#the healy part is in the... chest?

[wreckedandpolemic]

fighting with my sheets - matty healy

(mdni) in which you discover your boyfriend’s dirty little secret and bring him to his knees. part of the white and gold universe. 3600 words.

warnings: daddy kink, praise, degradation, masturbation, sex toys, sub!matty, oral (f and m receiving)

Matty’s at work when you find it, tucked innocently away under his bed. You’re getting ready for your date and you drop an earring, sending it skittering into darkness. Groaning, you kneel, feeling blindly for it, and your hand bumps against a shoebox. Curious, you tug it into the light; it’s innocuous, plain black and not matching any of the shoes you know he owns, the tape loosely holding it shut practically inviting you to nose through its contents.

Peeling the lid off, you flush siren-red, staring down at the box in disbelief. Your boyfriend’s hidden sex toy collection sits in your lap, cock rings and vibrators and even a fucking fleshlight staring back up at you. Flustered, you shove the box back under the bed, filthy fantasies playing so vividly in your head that you can practically hear his sweet, syrupy moans as he fucks into the toy. He’d be flushed, sweating, taking out his frustrations on the plastic the way he uses you after a long day.

Head swimming, your thighs clench, kicking off your panties and collapsing back against the pillows. Your own collection of toys lives in one of Matty’s bedside drawers, and you retrieve one of your vibrators, pressing it intently to your clit. A buzz of sharp, delicious pleasure rockets up your spine, a moan of his name falling from your lips as you grind down against the toy. You don’t hear Matty until he announces his presence, too distracted by the liquid heat pooling between your thighs. 

“Hi, princess,” he says, and you jolt, heart racing. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” you snap, bucking your hips and moaning theatrically. “C’mere.”

Matty laughs softly, slowly crossing the room to kneel at the foot of the bed. “Don’t be a brat,” he scolds. “What’s got you all needy, darling?” Oh, if only he knew.

What’s left of your brainpower goes on holding your cards close to your chest. “Want you,” you murmur, and Matty clicks his tongue fondly, his hand covering yours at the base of the toy.

“Here, baby, let me,” he urges, leaning down to kiss you as your hand falls from between your legs to your side. He picks up a familiar rhythm, your vision blurring with pleasure as Matty rolls the toy over your swollen clit. “So, so pretty, baby,” he praises. “My gorgeous girl. Fuckin’ dripping for me, yeah? Always so wet for your Daddy. Pretty little slut.”

You squirm, his words swirling together with the dizzying pleasure pulsing under your skin. “Only for you, Daddy,” you promise, pouting up at him until he kisses you again, slowly running the vibrator along your inner thigh as you tremble in anticipation. Matty dials the vibration up a notch, a scream tearing from your throat as he brings it back to your sensitive clit, intense pleasure-pain arcing up your spine.

Heat pools low in your belly, blood pounding in your ears as your heartbeat thrums in your cunt. “That’s right, pretty baby,” he smirks against your lips. “You’re all mine.” Breathing hard against Matty’s mouth, you writhe against the toy, desperate little whines slipping from your lips as your orgasm builds at the base of your spine. “Are you close, darling?”

“Mhmm,” you moan, head hazy. “Please, Daddy. Wanna cum f’you,” you slur out, deliriated and almost drunk on his touch.

Matty clicks his tongue. “We have reservations, baby,” he smirks, pulling the vibrator away from your clit. The loss feels like a physical ache, your body thrashing in protest as Matty kisses you softly and pulls away, wandering off to clean the toy as your chest heaves. “Come on, darling,” he says, emerging from the bathroom and watching you trying to catch your breath. “We’re gonna be late.”

Seething and unsatisfied, you pick yourself up and dress for dinner. It is really lovely, a secluded table at one of your favourite restaurants, candlelight sparkling between you with Matty gazing adoringly over your food, but you can’t help the tightness in your limbs, your short responses. You mull over the events of the afternoon, your thoughts circling around that little box under his bed as a revenge plan forms in your mind.

And you never found that fucking earring.

The ice in your veins thaws the longer you scheme, trading in your folded arms and monosyllabic answers for coy smiles and teasing murmurs of yes, Daddy. You let him lead you home and into the bedroom, trading lazy kisses and grinding in his lap. Matty’s hand trails up your thigh, electricity sparking under your skin under his touch. He still thinks he’s in control, you think with a smirk, pinching gently at your thigh as you put on your best performance of being his good little girl.

“Found something earlier, Daddy,” you say, pulling back and tracing your hand down his chest, slowly popping the buttons of his shirt.

Matty chuckles indulgently, still blissfully unaware of what you have in store. “What’d you find, princess?”

You hop to your feet and pull the box free, opening the lid with a smirk. Swallowing thickly, Matty avoids your eyes, shifting nervously as you settle back in his lap. “Do you use all this stuff, Daddy?” you tease, crooking two fingers under his jaw to force his gaze back to yours. 

“I- I used to,” he stammers, and you thumb gently over one of the spots of red on his cheeks.

“S’okay, Daddy,” you murmur, the power he’s handing you thick in your veins. Something about using the sobriquet while he melts under you feels illicit, delicious as it falls easily from your lips. “Don’t have to be embarrassed. Did they make you feel good?” He only nods, seemingly rooted to the spot as you palm over the growing tent in his slacks. “Can I use them on you? Wanna make you feel good, too.” Shuddering, Matty nods again, and you pout down at him, shaking your head. “Words, Daddy. You should know by now,” you tut, dizzy as you use his words on him this time.

“Fuck, yes, I want that,” he gasps, rocking his hips up against your hand.

You giggle, the subtle shine in his eyes familiar, jaw slack in an expression you’ve seen countless times on your own face. “Can you say please, Daddy? S’polite, if I’m giving you what you want.”

“Fuck, please, angel,” Matty almost whimpers, helplessly needy under your touch. You raise an eyebrow in response, an expression you learned from him. “Want you to… use my toys. On me. Please,” he chokes out, hanging his head.

You smile fondly, pressing a kiss against his slack lips. “Good boy. Was that so hard?” Matty moans softly, shuddering as you pop the button of his trousers. “You like when I call you a good boy, Daddy?” you murmur breathily, the dichotomous epithets tangling together in the air between you, thick with lust and promise. “Can you strip for me, baby?”

Obediently, Matty tugs off his shirt and kicks off his slacks, laying against the pillows in just his boxers. You’ll never get over the sight of him like this, chest heaving and cock hard and heavy between his legs; a pulse of arousal washes over you and drips into your panties. A wet patch spreads near his waistband and you grin as you strip to your underwear and straddle him, grinding against his clothed cock and leaning down to kiss him. Matty tangles his hands in your hair, licking desperately into your mouth and rocking his hips against yours. “You need to relax, Daddy,” you say, smiling softly against his mouth and peppering soft kisses over his jaw. “It’ll be more fun that way.”

“Fuck, princess, I’m–” Matty cuts himself off with a gasp as you slide your hand under his waistband and squeeze him gently, cock twitching under your touch. You ease him out of his boxers, a shuddering groan escaping him as his cock thuds against his belly, flushed and dripping precum. 

“Oh, you want this really bad, don’t you, Daddy?” you coo, pumping him slowly, slick desire dripping from your words. “Always callin’ me a slut, but you were just waiting for your turn to be ruined, huh?” You barely recognise your voice, low and dark and dominating, reducing your boyfriend, your smart, suave, older boyfriend into a whining, pathetic mess with a few scant touches. “Are you a slut too, Daddy?” You’ve played with the power dynamic before; Matty needs to give up his control sometimes, when the stress of his day-to-day gets too much for him, but never like this, never turning his filthy, degrading words back on him. The feeling is addictive.

This time, you don’t even have to prompt him. “Yeah, ‘m… ‘M a slut, baby,” Matty whimpers, your cunt clenching at his words. In reward, you dig your nail into his slit, the tip of your finger coming up sticky and coated with the evidence of his desire.

“Such a good boy, Daddy. You ready?”

You climb off him, retrieving the fleshlight and turning back to him. He sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of your hands wrapped around the toy, hips shifting needily as he gasps out, “Yeah. Yeah, ‘m ready, baby. Please.”

You come back to him slowly, teasingly, but he’s been so good that you don’t want to torture him any longer. Uncapping a bottle of lube, you coat the toy in it, fingers sticky and dripping as you slowly slide it down his length. A shuddering moan escapes him, his eyes glued to the sight of you, whining and bucking his hips into the toy. “God, look so fuckin’ pretty like that,” you moan, grinding your hips down against the bed, bursts of hot pleasure rolling under your skin. “Can’t believe you own all this stuff, Daddy,” you giggle breathily, pinching a nipple through your bra as you stroke him. “So naughty. Did you have to settle for all these toys before you had me?”

“Yeah, I did, princess. Had to fuck a plastic pussy before I found the perfect girl to fuckin’ ruin.” Matty chokes out, his words sending a gush of arousal flooding between your legs. “Fuck, feels s’much better when you do it, baby. My best girl, always takin’ such good care of me,” he moans, hips rolling up into your hand.

One of your hands dips into your panties, arousal dripping against your fingers as you rub slow circles into your clit. Whining, you stroke him faster, his rhythmic gasps and whines speeding. Your gaze is fixated on his cock as it disappears into the toy, slick, wet sounds mixing with your moans in the sex-thick air between you. “God, I fuckin’ love seeing you like this. Love when you get all needy f’me, Daddy,” you moan, grinding down against your hand.

Matty’s whines pitch up, pathetically desperate as he chases his release. “‘M gettin’ close, princess, fuck,” he gasps, his thighs trembling. He looks more gorgeous than you’ve ever seen him, flushed red and shaking, sweat-damp curls sticking to his forehead. He’s a fucking vision, and you can’t resist torturing him a little longer.

“Hold it for me, just a little while longer, ‘kay, Daddy?” He whimpers in protest, hips rolling wantonly, all pretence of rhythm long abandoned. “Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me? ‘M always so good for you.” He musters up a scoff, and you fix him with a glare that makes him press his lips together, subdued. “I deserve it, don’t I?”

“Yeah, princess. You do. ‘M gonna be good, promise,” Matty says, face scrunching with effort as you pump his cock at an almost punishing pace. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps, near-pained.

You tease him a little longer, his sweet, desperate moans falling straight to your core. Matty practically fucking pouts when you pull the toy off, and you scoff disparagingly. “Don’t be a brat. Was gonna let you finish in my mouth, but you can have this fuckin’ plastic back, if you prefer.”

“F-fuck, nonono, ‘m sorry, baby. Wanna cum in your pretty mouth.”

“You wanna, huh?” You click your tongue as he nods, whining and grasping at you. “How bad?”

“So fuckin’ bad, princess. God, I fuckin’ need it, fuck! Please, baby. Let me cum, wanna cum f’you,” Matty gasps, knuckles turning white as his hands fist in the sheets.

You frown, toying with the idea of denying him, revenging yourself for earlier, but he’s trying so hard to be good that you can’t bring yourself to. “Such a slut, Daddy,” you pout. “Gettin’ all dumb for me, huh?” He nods, another whimpered please falling unconsciously from his lips. “C’mon, say it. Say it, and I’ll let you cum, okay?” 

Leaning down, you press a kiss to his tip, licking the salt of him off your lips. “‘M a slut f’you, baby,” he slurs out. “Only you. My fucking girl.”

“Good boy,” you praise softly, taking Matty’s cock in your mouth and swallowing around him. He fists a hand in your hair, gasping and babbling praise as you bob your head, moaning around him. His choked gasp is the only warning you get before he’s spilling in your mouth, pulsing down your throat as you swallow greedily. Pulling off him with a groan, you sit back on your heels. “Taste so fucking good, Daddy,” you murmur, trailing your hand down his cheek with a smile. He grasps at you, taking greedy handfuls of your skin as he tugs you to him. Settling next to him, you grab his jaw and pull him into a slow, indulgent kiss, pressing the taste of him into his mouth as his lips press insistently against yours.

“Felt so fucking good, princess. Thank you s’much,” Matty murmurs, pressing close to you, his skin hot and sweat-slick against yours.

You laugh, carding a hand through his damp, messy curls, Matty unconsciously stretching up into the touch. “Oh, baby,” you croon. “I’m not done with you yet,” you smirk, and he shudders. “C’mon, lay back for me, Daddy. Want your mouth.”

He obeys, laying back as you straddle his face unashamedly. You’re soaked, dripping on his tongue, grinding down with a low whine. Pleasure licks up your spine as Matty devours you, nails digging into your thighs with eagerness. Your cunt clenches, already close to the edge just from the state of him, moaning helplessly between your thighs. “God,” you say, whining when Matty curls his tongue perfectly, heat throbbing in your core. “Love havin’ you as my fucktoy for a change.” His cock twitches at your words, and you chuckle softly. “Oh, you like that, Daddy? You like hearing what’s good little toy you are for me?” He sucks on your clit and you swallow a scream, blinding ecstasy spiralling through your limbs.

You lose your grip on reality the longer Matty tongue-fucks you, lapping at your soaked cunt with fervour. The burn in your thighs aches deliciously, mixing with the pleasure buzzing insistently in the base of your skull. His name tumbles from your lips, over and over as your awareness of anything else slips away. Your head is hazy, swimming in desire, Matty’s tongue swirling gloriously over your clit. “God, ‘m so fuckin’ close, Daddy,” you gasp, circling your hips faster as Matty dips his tongue back inside you. “Oh, my God,” you whine, pleasure coiled tight in your belly. He curls his tongue, mind-wiping pleasure sending you spiralling. You scream, ecstasy pooling in your belly and flooding out over Matty’s lips and chin as you moan and writhe helplessly on top of him. Molten pleasure hammers in your veins, your body loose on your bones as your hands tangle in the sheets.

“God, felt good,” you praise, climbing off him with a grin. “Love that pretty mouth of yours so much better when you’re not fuckin’ running it.” You pull him in for a kiss, greedily licking the taste of you out of his mouth. Indulgently, lazily, you kiss him for several long, blissful moments, Matty’s hands roaming over your body, electricity arcing under your skin to meet him.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmurs against your lips.  “Took such good care of me,” he smiles, flushing slightly and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. Gently, you scrape your nails over his scalp, Matty practically purring under your touch.

“Can you take a little more, Daddy? For me?” you murmur.

He lets out a shuddering breath. “Yeah. F’you,” he gasps, hips shifting against the bed. Lust and trepidation war on his face as you rifle through the box again.

“Good boy,” you praise, slicking up his cock and sliding the toy you’ve chosen down his cock until the ring sits at his base, the little vibrator snug against his length. “Have you ever used this with another girl, Daddy?” you tease, an echo of Matty’s usual words when you try something new.

“N-no,” he stammers, trembling with anticipation. “Only you, baby,” he promises.

You smirk, reaching down to switch on the vibrator. Matty gasps sharply, whining and whimpering pathetically as he shifts his hips against the stimulation. “Good answer,” you grin, lining up his cock and sinking down slowly. A long, low moan falls from your lips, the sensation unlike anything you’ve ever felt, pure pleasure rolling over you in waves. “God, s’like you’re my personal rabbit,” you gasp, grinding your clit against the vibrator and whining.

Matty’s nails dig into your hips, heat rolling up your spine. “Feels s’fucking good, baby, fuck,” he murmurs, bucking his hips against yours, the sweet jolt of pleasure intense as it rockets through your body. “God, s’so much, I can’t–” he gasps.

“Shh,” you whisper, condescendingly pressing a finger to his lips. “I’m gonna use you to get off, and you’re gonna lay there and take it like a good boy, okay, Daddy?” He gives a low, shuddering moan, nodding up at you with wide eyes and a slackened jaw. Slowly, you lift yourself almost all the way off him and slam your hips down, hot pleasure swallowing you whole. Your head tips back, chest heaving as you clench your cunt around him. Matty’s hips buck involuntarily, the sudden change in angle sending pleasure crashing over you.

Your head spins, the vibrations in your cunt working you into a frenzy, hips rolling against him. Obscene moans and slick, wet noises fill the room, your thighs burning gloriously as you bounce on him, heat welling between your legs and flooding your veins. Your body feels like a livewire, anchored to reality by Matty’s hands on your hips, dizzying ecstasy surging through every nerve at once.

Fire coils under your skin, your cunt soaked and dripping over him, your swollen, sensitive clit pressed against the vibrator as Matty gasps under you. “God, you feel so fucking good, princess,” he whines. “Drivin’ me crazy. Fucking– shit!” he hisses, fucking impossibly deep into you, stars shattering behind your lids and euphoria blooming under your skin.

“Fuck, Daddy, m’gonna–” you gasp, rocking your hips as liquid ecstasy drips down your spine. Matty thrusts into you one final time, the coil of heat between your thighs finally snapping. Your legs shake, your body caving in on itself, collapsing into pure bliss. Your vision whites out, whines and moans falling uncontrollably from your lips. A gush of arousal floods out of you, soaking Matty and pooling under you, sticky and hot against your skin.

“Fuck, shit, wanna cum s’bad, need it, baby, please,” Matty babbles, nails digging sharply into your hips as he shudders and bucks against you, whining incoherently. “Please, angel, it hurts,” he begs, eyes wide and pleading.

You croon softly, cunt fluttering with the aftershocks. “Yeah, go on, Daddy. Been such a good boy. Cum for me, okay?” Your words are all it takes, another achingly familiar reversal as he cums, a sound that’s half a cry of your name and half a keening moan tearing from his throat as he spills inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, thank you,” he gasps, cock pulsing, hips meeting yours in aborted little thrusts.

Slowly, carefully, you climb off him and discard the toy, your body falling limp against the pillows. You pull Matty in for a soft, gentle kiss, pouring every ounce of the feeling in your chest against his mouth. “How… how was that?” you murmur as you pull back. “Are you feeling good?”

Matty gives a glowing smile, your chest warming at the sight. “I feel fucking amazing, princess,” he says, swollen lips meeting yours over and over, like he can’t resist. “Thank you, baby, really. I’ve never, uh… never done anything like that, um, with a girl, before. Felt really fucking good,” he grins dopily, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

You giggle breathlessly. “Now you know how I feel all the fucking time.” You curl into him, savouring the warmth of his skin against yours. “Always take such good care of me after, too. S’my turn now,” you promise, kissing gently at the corner of his mouth and sitting up. “Gonna get you some water, ‘kay? Run us a bath, maybe light some candles, make it nice for you, yeah?”

Matty gazes at you adoringly from the bed as you stand. “Such a sweet girl,” he says, more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, still and sated and happy, the buzz of energy that perpetually emanates from him finally quieted.

“Only for you.”

#goddd this is FILTH #i’m obsessed kinda #that subby sleazy old man WILL save you btw #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic #writing #smut #white and gold

[abiiors]

birthday wish - matty x reader

part 1 of matty's birthday weekend a/n: this is scheduled. by the time this goes up, i will (hopefully🤞🏼) be on a beach somewhere, day drunk 😌 cw: very vague and brief descriptions of a panic attack, alcohol and drinking, mayhem is still with matty here because that's how it should be. also...a smidge of angst, idiots friends to lovers wc: 3.1k

“matty you fucking dick!”

her screech echoes throughout the lower floor of his house and matty bursts out laughing. george stirs on the nearby sofa, huffs something unintelligible and goes back to sleep. 

it’s 9 in the morning the day after they’ve had a late night out, no one should be awake at such an ungodly hour… least of all him. but matty has a mission to accomplish, the fucking childish prank he’s been planning for weeks to see through. 

and this scream—her calling him a “fucking dick”—is the precise reaction he’s been hoping for. 

seconds later she stomps out of his room and matty damn near pisses himself at the sight of her—dripping in water like a wet, angry cat, her t-shirt clinging to her body in all the damp spots and hair as green as an oompa-loompa's. even like this she’s a vision.

“what the fuck did you do?!” she yells again, absolutely fuming. 

between peals of laughter, he somehow manages three words. “happy april fool’s.”

“oh don’t you fucking dare. watch your back healy, i swear to god…”

and then all the yelling wakes george up who takes one look at her and flinches back. he actually flinches back letting out a string of curses in the process until his butt hits the floor. 

matty doubles over, clutching his sides, and wolf-whistles at her just to piss her off a little more. 

“hair dye in a shampoo bottle, how clever,” she huffs, crossing her arms in front of her until the damp  t-shirt sticks to her boobs and the wind gets knocked out of matty’s chest. 

suddenly, nothing is funny—not the green-tinged puddle of water near her feet, not the way her nostrils flare in anger. 

matty’s breath hitches in his throat, and perhaps for the first time he looks at her properly. the damp t-shirt ends halfway down her thighs, bunched up on one side so he can almost see the little group of freckles on the apex of her thigh. the anger makes her eyebrows furrow, makes a small crease appear right between them and matty wishes so desperately he could smooth it with his thumb. his hands tremble at his sides and he tightens them into a fist. 

finally, after what feels like an eternity, george bursts out laughing. 

matty startles—he’d honestly forgotten george was even there, still waking up from sleep and now that he is fully awake, george bursts into a fit of obnoxious cackles. 

“what the fuck happened to you,” he teases to which she just lifts one finger and points it straight at matty. 

matty, despite everything, blushes to the roots of his hair. now that he’s started thinking all these thoughts about her he can’t fucking stop—can’t stop when she bunches the towel in her hands and throws it at him so quick that it makes the t-shirt ride up a bit more. can’t stop when she places her hands on her hips so that the contours of her chest stand out under the damp t-shirt.

he has half a thought to tackle george so he won’t be able to look at her anymore but matty suppresses the urge. barely. 

“i’ll get you back, healy,” she threatens and storms back to his room. 

sure matty was the one who offered to let her have a shower in his bathroom—one, so she could stay over with the rest of their friends for the night, and two, so he could execute the prank. but now he can’t stop imagining it—her under the shower (does she sing?) using his shampoo, his body wash. 

does she smell like him now? he’d die if he got close enough to find out. 

“alright, mate?” george jerks him out of his thoughts. matty turns around to see his friend stretching sleepily, but george’s eyes are still very much trained on matty. his lips are very much pressed into a thin line. 

“you both are insufferable, don’t get why you won’t just tell her,” he mumbles on the way to the kitchen pulling out a mug for himself. 

“don’t know what you’re talking about,” matty shrugs, perhaps a bit too quick and gets another mug out. he puts the kettle on boil, gets the coffee and sugar out.

the whole time george stays quiet but matty can feel his burning stare on the back of his head. 

only when the coffees are done and george takes the first sip does he speak. 

“sure you don’t,” he mutters in a dry tone and takes his phone out (definitely to text charli and gossip about matty’s love life. or the lack thereof.)

in his head he guesses the texts that are being exchanged between them.

he’s chickened out again. 

really? i fucking knew it, he’s never gonna get to it. 

right? she might as well date someone else. 

i should set her up with a friend…

and then shakes his head like that would get rid of the frankly ridiculous thoughts. his friends would never do that to him. they've already meddled and invested too much in his love life by now to give up so easily. besides, he’ll get to it. someday. eventually. 

he’ll get to it when his insides don’t feel like jelly around her. 

he’ll get to it when he feels a bit more brave.

matty’s birthday wish has stayed consistent for the last two years. he wishes he could make a move. he wishes she were single—well, one of those things is true now. he’s no longer pathetic enough to yearn for a girl who’s already with someone else. 

he’ll never admit it to anyone but he did feel a bit of joy when she broke up with her boyfriend earlier that year—okay maybe a lot of joy when he saw how quickly she moved on. 

“we’d been growing distant for some time anyway,” she’d confessed when he checked up on her after the break up. “it was inevitable.”

and now that matty’s birthday gets closer and closer, he thinks of all ways to amend that wish. 

please fucking please give me the courage to just kiss her. 

he doesn’t know who he’s making the wish to. god?? he highly doubts it. the universe?? he scarcely believes in all that new age spirituality crap. the fucking candle company and the cake maker then. 

oh great vanilla bean who sacrificed itself for my cake… give me the courage to finally kiss her. 

he's got like a week still… if he wished every single day starting today, maybe it will come true. cake and candles or not. he's a grown fucking man, he can make a wish before blowing on a fag.

sometime around 5 pm he wakes up to an empty apartment, lingering taste of the sweet vanilla cake that she’d baked for him last year still so fresh on his tongue. 

there’s something else too… there’s the Moment that he’s not quite sure counts as a Moment even though he remembers it vividly—her fingers brushing against his lips while she was wiping away a bit of the frosting, nails grazing against his lips. just a touch too long. all of it—the intense stare, the looking away right after, the refusal to look him in the eye for the rest of the night—all of it feels like a Moment. but the rational part of his brain steers him away from that thought. 

she had a boyfriend at the time. she wouldn’t pine after someone else. least of all him. 

a somewhat humiliating memory resurfaces too—his own lyrics coming to bite him back in the ass—the speaker blaring “she’s got a boyfriend anyway” over and over again while he tries not to punch the dj. 

matty stretches and gets out of bed.

the utter silence feels nice for a change—nicer when half the house is bathed in golden light and he can just stroll through the house in search of some weed and crisps and pop. maybe call his brother and demand that mario kart rematch that’s so so long overdue. 

maybe he should let mayhem out into the backyard first. 

mayhem…

matty freezes in his tracks and slowly turns around, almost like he’s in a horror movie. 

he has not heard the dog bark once! usually mayhem is up and running at him the moment he senses him within a ten feet radius. today however, there’s no patter of paws on the floor. 

matty runs to check the little outdoor area where mayhem usually sits. even before he opens the door though, matty knows what he will find—an empty dog bed, possibly an empty food bowl. 

he lets out a low whistle and twists the door open. there’s an uncharacteristic, loud clatter and a second later he stands at the threshold, doused in hot pink glitter, dog-less, in the middle of his house. 

i’ll get you back, healy!

matty giggles to himself and takes his phone out of his pocket, trying not to get the glitter everywhere. (although by now it’s pretty much settled into his dna, he’s sure of it) 

she picks up on the second ring, followed by a very fake clearing of her throat. 

“did you steal my dog, darling?” matty launches straight into it, trying to hide the smile in his voice.

“no!” and then there’s a faint little yip in the background that sounds suspiciously like the one he hears daily. 

“right…”

“right. that all?”

as gently as he can, matty dusts off the glitter in place and walks back inside in search of a mop or something. he needs to contain the carnage somehow, but on the phone she clears her throat again. 

“did anything else happen?” 

the little giggle in her voice is so obvious to him. matty imagines what she looks like on the other side—on her bed maybe, cuddled up with mayhem who secretly seems to prefer her so much more than matty. on her bed in just a t-shirt maybe… he reigns it in before the thoughts can progress any forward. 

“mayhem seems to have ran away.”

“oh?” then there’s a little silence, which instantly fills with the sound of paws on hard wood. “maybe he’ll come back,” she hedges, “maybe…once the dye in my hair goes away, who knows.”

“is that so?”

“yeah, just a hunch.”

the silence stretches on, none of them willing to hang up first. matty wonders if she’s sat there biting her lip, trying to stifle a laugh. matty wonders what it would be like if he were to bite her lip instead.

“still green?” he tries to tease, voice slightly breathy.

“still sparkly?” she quips back. and well…yes, he is. he’s sure he’s going to be for the rest of time.

“the day’s not over yet, sweetheart.”

sweetheart. where the fuck did that come from? matty runs a shaky hand through his hair and grimaces when it come away hot pink and sparkly. it’s all over his hair too… great.

“is that a threat, darling?” matty almost chokes at the word, his face heats up. fuckin’ hell… if this is what he’s like after one word…

“we’ll see about that tonight.” 

and then like a coward he hangs up before she can shake his composure any further. he closes his eyes and focuses on the birthday wish one more time—it might as well be today, he’s faux-celebrating his birthday later with a few people who can’t be there on the actual day. he just needs to get his shit together and…not fuck up.

he fucks up almost instantly. 

when he walks into the dimly lit pub, he can spot the green-head right from the door. she’s in a flowery blouse and jeans and pulling the hair off so well that he wonders if he should have done this months ago. but matty shakes off his jitters and walks up to his friends. 

several of them are already pretty tipsy, singing and dancing along to the tunes. he is fashionably late after all. they greet him, slapping him on the shoulder as he passes by, drunkenly yelling “happy birthday” even though it’s a week away. graciously, he thanks them all, laughing and joking with his friends before making his way to her. 

turns out the list of tipsy people also includes her.

she beams when she sees him, hurrying to put her cocktail away so she can throw her arms around him. a second later her perfume invades all his senses. matty closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of it. 

“i was waiting for you,” she declares, a few words coming out slurred. “i’ve decided i like the green.”

“yeah? it looks beautiful on you.”

quickly she wrinkles her nose, stepping away from him. “you’re making fun of me!”

“‘m not!” he vehemently defends himself but in the end it’s all in good fun. fondly, she rolls her eyes and grabs his hand, pulling him to the bar. 

“i asked them to set aside this one bottle of wine for you. feel like you’d like it.”

a strange warmth spreads through him—it’s not the most special thing someone’s done for him, it’s just a bottle of wine. but then again nothing is just something when it comes to her. 

she thought about him. she’d been thinking about him. however briefly. 

matty almost leans across and kisses her then but thinks better of it. a crowded pub is no place to do it. 

turns out his first mistake of the night is drinking the wine. well… drinking too much and too fast anyway. 

what starts off as slow sips and savouring the red quickly turns into glasses of wine in a corner while they joke around and giggle uncontrollably. she’s flushed, twinkly-eyed and a bit more than tipsy now. 

matty, on the other hand, might very well be drunk. 

he feels the effects of it—the feeling of his blood being replaced by wine, the buzz in his head, the lack of filter in his words. oh, his head is going to kill him tomorrow.

he doesn’t mind though, anything to be sat here across from her, giggling over an overpriced (but delicious) bottle of wine. matty leans forward, chin on the palm of his hand and watches her laugh at his silly joke. 

“you’re gorgeous, did i tell you that?” for a moment he doesn’t recognise the voice. it’s slurred and deeper than usual and that’s not something he’d ever admit to her so casually. but then she giggles and ruffles his hair, laughing harder when her fingers come back, coated in a bit of glitter. 

“you’re so drunk. but i appreciate it, thank you.”

“no no, i’m not! i mean i am but— i mean it i—” he’s wide-eyed and failing to explain just how much he means it. matty just wants her to understand. this is not some frivolous confession of a wine-addled brain, this is serious. he is serious. 

desperation overrides any sane instinct in his brain. which is his second mistake of the night. 

the words come out faster than he can process them, faster than he can filter them and make them digestible. 

“you– you don’t know how long i’ve waited to say this. every time i get enough courage there’s either a boyfriend or something else. there’s always— fuck, forget all that. that doesn’t matter—”

“matty—”

“no, no listen to me, listen to what i’m trying to tell you.” 

the more he speaks (rambles) the more the smile slips from her face, replaced by something he can’t quite place. she’s not… disgusted by him, is she? he hopes not. that really would be the final nail in the coffin. 

“i’ve been trying—” he chokes, deeply swallowing more wine, “—been trying to tell you, i love you! i love you, i love you, i love you. i have for so long!”

and that’s when she pulls back entirely, leaning back into her chair as if she can’t put enough distance between them. her face shutters into an unreadable mask and matty feels panic bubbling up deep inside his stomach. 

shit shit shit. 

what has he done. 

oh god, he clearly wasn’t thinking straight. this wasn’t how it was meant to go. this wasn’t how any of it wasn’t meant to go. it was meant to be followed by a kiss and maybe more. it was meant to be followed by an “i love you too”. 

not… indifference. 

or worse… disgust. 

which is when he makes his third (and perhaps the worst) mistake of the night. 

matty laughs. it’s hysterical and sharp and verging on cruel. he laughs until he can feel the tears in his eyes and he can only hope they don’t spill down his cheeks. and then he says the words he can never take back. 

“oh god, look at your face. i was joking!”

“what…”

“it’s still the first of april, did you forget?”

each word is like a nail being hammered into his heart. but matty hopes it would be enough. in two seconds she’d roll her eyes and laugh at herself for falling for it. in a minute they will go back to drinking and joking. matty can pretend. he’s become quite good at it. 

instead, she gets up so fast that her chair almost clatters to the ground. 

in the dim lightning of the pub, matty can’t see the tears gathered in her eyes. although that might be because his eyes are still blurry from his own tears. 

“love—”

“you’re a cunt, matty.” she says the words with an eerie calmness, mechanically gathers her bag and phone and walks away. only then does he register the extent of what’s happening. 

the wine bottle falls to the floor and shatters when he drunkenly bumps into the table. red spills everywhere, soaking his shoes, the leg of his jeans. he hurries after her, tripping and falling as the full force of the alcohol hits him once again, calling out her name again and again. the music drowns it out. 

she’s out the door before matty’s even halfway across the pub. 

fuck… how did it go so wrong so quick. 

how did he mess it up so bad… 

he almost retches right there on the floor, grabbing a passer-by to steady himself. he needs to do something, he needs to make this right. he needs to…

he doesn't know what. his heart pounds in his chest and his throat feels so dry and tight he can barely speak, barely even breathe. matty sinks to his knees right there in the middle of the pub, gasping for breath. 

he doesn’t know what happens next, doesn’t remember much after that. all he remembers is the feeling of doom and the loud, odd rhythm of his heart. 

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[sugar-coat-it]

Body piercer! Matty

Part 2 

May I present my pride and joy (and first AU), body piercer Matty <3, based on the 2020 NOACF mohawk era

Fem! reader

****CW! Needles, pain****

Contains: Matty piercing reader’s nipples*, lustful fantasies, praise, Matty has a tongue piercing, HELLA tension and pining, Matty being a sweetheart through the whole thing

*note, I don’t have nipple piercings lol, apologies if any of this is inaccurate.

Word count: 5313

—------------------------------------------

PART ONE- Fate lands you in Matty Healy’s capable hands when looking to get your nipples pierced. Tension ensues.

—-----------------------------------------

The thought of getting your nipples pierced had been in the back of your mind for what felt like years. It nagged at you every time you saw a pretty girl with barbells poking out under her tank top, you wanted to be her. You’d done all the research, article after article on the healing period, the pain level, and the kinds of jewelry you can get. You also knew fairly well how they enhance sexual encounters, which had a whole draw of its own. You’d done everything except actually make the appointment. That is, up until a few days ago. Fresh off of a breakup and tired of feeling sorry for yourself, you’d called your local tattoo parlor and scheduled a slot with a body piercer named Maddie, then hung up feeling rather pleased with yourself for finally getting it done. The anticipation of the leadup to the appointment had you biting your lips raw. You’d gotten other piercings before, but never in a place so intimate. Never one that required taking your top off, that’s for certain. But friends had been encouraging you nonstop, telling you what a “hot girl” move it was, and who were you to argue? 

Finally, the day comes, and you’re swinging open the parlor door a little too hard, evidently very tense. The bell that jangles when the door opens clanks against the wall, making the man behind the counter startle. Wide-eyed and wincing, you shoot him an apologetic look, embarrassed that you’d practically ripped their front door off the hinge. Great start!

Slowly, after making sure the door is safely shut, you approach the counter, absentmindedly toying with the rings that adorn your fingers, twisting them between your thumb and your forefinger. The man at the counter is exactly who you’d expect to be working at a tattoo and piercing parlor, but an even more stunning rendition if you were being honest. His slightly sleepy-looking eyes brighten a little at the sight of you, a fluffy mohawk of chocolatey waves sitting atop his head. He’s adorned with inked patterns along his skin, a patchwork of symbols across his arms that you restrict yourself to only glancing at for a moment. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he greets you with a warm smile, offering a little wave before you start to explain why you’re here, your voice uncharacteristically high-pitched.

“Hi, I’ve got a 1:00 appointment?” you explain before providing your name, trying your hardest to stop fidgeting.

Your mind is in about 20 places, and it doesn’t help that your heart just fluttered at the eye contact he’s holding with you. The man nods at you, a low hum rumbling in his chest as he picks up the scheduling book, sifting through the pages with black polished nails. When he turns his head, you catch a glimpse of the single silver hoop earring that he’s sporting quite well. Curiosity creeps up like a slinking cat, making you wonder what other modifications he might have. His narrowed eyes scan the book, toffee-colored irises flicking over names until he finds yours penciled in, jabbing his nail against the page.

“Yeah I see you, you’re with me then. And, you did your paperwork and payment stuff, it looks like,” he says, snapping the schedule closed definitively.

“Oh, no I don’t think…” you start to correct, tilting your head at him with confusion until you trail off into quiet.

 That’s when it catches your eye, the nametag on his white tank top reads “Matty”. Then it clicks. Matty. Not Maddie. You’d scheduled your appointment to get your tits pierced with a guy. A very attractive guy that was now going to watch you squirm like a child. Your jaw drops slightly, a sinking feeling in your gut starting to fester as you realize your mistake.

“Everything alright there? Second thoughts, perhaps?” Matty prompts, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at you. 

“No… no second thoughts. To be honest, I thought I had an appointment with a female piercer,” you answer, preemptively grimacing before you’d even finished your sentence.

“Oh, shit. Well, that’s not ideal. Listen, we can get you in here another day then, no problem. Tell me what works for you,” he says, already scrambling for a pencil to put your name elsewhere in the book. 

“Actually, I think it’s fine. I’m already here, right?” you offer, shrugging to try and appear more nonchalant about the whole thing (your palms are sweating).

“Are you sure? Seriously, I don’t want you uncomfortable on my watch. It’s not a big deal to get you a different appointment,” he frowns, absentmindedly twirling the pencil between his fingers. 

His eyes are strangely soft for someone with such an intimidating job, you can only describe the feeling they give you as melting. You can’t quite place why, but his presence alone is somehow quelling your nerves, even if it’s just a bit. Your hands start to still, dropping to rest at your sides as you decide to let him do it anyway. He looks trustworthy, right? 

“Yeah, I’m sure. But thank you, truly,” you say, a soft smile pulling at your lips at how keen he seems on making you comfortable. 

Matty nods slowly, rising from the chair while eyeing you like he’s not sure if you’re going to turn on your heel and run out the door if he looks away. He asks you to follow him to the back, you’re trailing close behind as he pulls his baggy camo pants further up his hips by his belt. The room he leads you to is small and fairly chilly, but only in temperature. The space itself feels homey, plastered with stickers and posters of various punk bands, it doesn’t feel like some sterile hospital room. 

“Stay standin’ for me, just need to get some things,” he instructs, turning to reach for his supplies, including the jewelry you’d selected over the phone, “and, whenever you’re ready you can take your top off, okay?” 

Without the pressure of his eyes on you, it takes a moment before you slowly ease your shirt up and over your shoulders, setting it beside you. You take a slightly uneven breath as you reach to fumble with the clasp of your bra, suddenly forgetting the muscle memory from doing it for so many years. The moment it’s off, the rush of cold air instantly sends a shiver licking up your spine. You lean back against the counter, trying to appear as casual as you can as you eye the piercer. Your eyebrows slope with admiration, softening your expression as you realize that he’s now aimlessly fishing through a drawer, trying to give you time to ease into undressing while he’s still turned around. He stays with his back to you until you clear your throat, signaling that you’ve finished. His expression is unphased as he turns around on the heels of his platformed lace-up boots. God, he really is beyond cool, isn’t he? 

“Right, I’m gonna put these on, and then I’ll mark the placement,” Matty explains, holding up a pair of latex gloves. 

Matty pulls the gloves over his sizeable hands, the bulging veins catching your eye as he flexes his fingers to test that they’re taught. He’s taking a few steps closer to you, now only about an arm's length away as he explains that he’s not going to touch you without the gloves, though of course, your first unfiltered thought is that you wish he would. His eyes hadn’t strayed from your face for even a second this whole time, being remarkably neutral despite the fact that you were topless. Though, you suppose that sort of thing must not phase him since he’s probably pierced tons of nipples. That doesn’t stop the odd tinge of disappointment that he hadn’t even glanced at your body. You swallow the feeling like it’s bile, knowing that it’s totally unreasonable to want him to gaze at you with anything but professionalism. 

“Is it okay if I put my hands on you? Need to clean the area,” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, it’s making you slightly weak in the knees, he’s just so fucking gentle. 

You nod, rolling your shoulders back in preparation for him to touch you while he pours solvent on a cotton pad. His disciplined, gloved hands reach out, and only now does he allow his gaze to dip down to your chest. You could swear his breath hitches just a little, the quiet room allowing for the smallest sounds to be heard. Maybe he is just a man after all. The thought makes pride simmer in your chest, but you’re not dwelling on it for long, your mind going blank the moment he starts to swiftly swipe the pad along your nipples, sanitizing your skin and also effectively making them harden from the stimulation. You tense up, standing straighter than before as you bite back any semblance of a reaction. Matty throws you a glance to assess your discomfort, soft brown irises following the slopes of your features. He places the sanitizing supplies to the side, now uncapping a purple skin marker. This was going to be a long process if he kept looking at you that way.

“Nothing's happening yet, okay? Just gonna draw on where they’re gonna go,” he says, holding it up while raising his eyebrows as if to say “Look, it’s harmless”. 

Matty leans in again, his eyes narrowing with concentration, gloved knuckles brushing the side of your breast as he marks a dot on the side of your nipple. Watching Matty stare at your tits with such laser focus has your cheeks flushing just slightly, heat prickling at the bridge of your nose. He runs the tip of the marker from one side of the hardened bud to the other, marking a symmetrical dot. Tingles spread under your skin like wildfire, he’s barely touched you and yet you can feel yourself buzzing at the slightest sensations. His pretty brown eyes meet yours and he just smiles at you sympathetically, knowing how hyperfocused on his every movement you must be.

“You’re not breathing,” he whispers, playfully jabbing the capped end of the pen against your arm. 

Your eyes widen as you realize that he’s absolutely right, you’d been holding your breath this whole time. You release your bated breath, your chest heaving slightly as Matty keeps looking down at you, giving you a moment to regain your senses. You swear the eye contact while being inches away from him is making you more lightheaded than the lack of oxygen. With a satisfied nod, he resumes, repeating the same process of drawing the dots at the peak of your other breast. Then, he takes a step back, biting the cap of the marker between his canines while he evaluates his work. This allows you another moment to admire him as he eyeballs the symmetricalness of his markings. Your mind is wandering, perhaps trying to distract you from how intently this man is studying your breasts. You’re wondering what it would be like if he wasn’t so gentle with you. What if he touched you instead with greed, the need to satiate himself? In your head, you imagine the warm, honey tones of his eyes darkening like tinted glass as he drinks you in not as his client, but as something to desire, to want to feel flush beneath his calloused fingertips. This version of Matty doesn’t try to limit every graze of his working hands, he’s starving; groping, and mapping every part of your skin that he can reach. You’re jumping the gun now, the image flashes through your mind like a ricocheting bullet: Matty’s got you pressed up against the wall, his hands are mean as he grabs a handful of one of your tits, his thigh is hitched between your legs, keeping your thighs parted. His head dips down, his shaggy mohawk tickling at your neck as he tugs on the silver barbell through your nipple with his teeth, pain melding with pleasure till they’re impossible to separate. And, oh, fuck, does he have a tongue piercing? Your eyes flick down to his mouth now, mind reeling as you spot the silver stud on his tongue revealed by the way he’s chewing on the cap of the marker. You are losing yourself, and fast, but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Alright, looks just about even. Would you go ahead and lie down there, darlin’?” he asks, cocking his head towards the reclined padded chair next to him. 

Now is where the nerves are starting to kick in, it’s all fun and fantasizing about your body piercer until you actually have to sit in the chair. You were hardly able to mentally fawn over the pet name as you took unsure strides to situate yourself in the cold, plastic parlor recliner. Matty busies himself with preparing various metal objects while you stare up at the ceiling, squinting at the fluorescent lights and wondering why you wanted your tits pierced so badly in the first place. Then, his unreasonably darling face is in your field of vision, peering down at you with a consoling smile.

“Comfy?” he prompts, a needle in one hand and a small pair of forceps in the other.

It’s not a comforting sight, no matter how lovely the man holding them is. 

“Sorta. I’m actually kind of a chicken about these things,” you admit with a wobbly smile in return.

“No… really?” he grins boyishly, clearly being sarcastic with you. 

You shoot him a look for that, but it melts away into a little laugh, you can’t seem to even fake a cold stare around him, it’s sort of pitiful. Standing over you, Matty raises the forceps close to your breasts but doesn’t touch you with them just yet. You bite your lip, lifting your head to get a better look at what’s happening, even though you’re not entirely sure you even want to watch. 

“Now, this is just going to feel like a little pinch, shouldn’t hurt,” he says, his voice lowering a little before he slips in a: “You’re doing really good.”

The praise tears your gaze away from his hands and onto his face, blinking in disbelief at the way he’d caused a fizzling pang of desire inside you so effortlessly. That feeling doesn’t get any weaker the moment you feel the cool metal clamp around your nipple, your lips parting with a soft gasp, hands tensing with the urge to hold onto something, to hold onto him. Matty’s pierced tongue darts out past his lips in concentration, soothing over his bottom lip as he lines the needle up next to the hardened bud. You jolt at the sharp tip of the object against your sensitive skin, your hand shooting out to grab onto Matty’s bicep in a moment of pure reaction. Both of you seem equally shocked that you’d suddenly clutched his arm, your nails slightly biting into his skin amongst the spattering of pretty freckles that mark him. There’s a moment of the loudest silence you’ve ever heard, his stare feels like it’s searing you. You’re about to rush into apologizing, but then he’s placing his tools back down onto his tray of supplies, tentatively reaching to rest his larger hand over yours, enveloping it in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I’m just lining up my shot. I’m gonna tell you when it’s time, okay? Just breathe with me for a moment,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing tenderly over the back of your hand. 

He takes an exaggerated breath, encouraging you to do the same, his chest rising beneath his white tank top. You mirror Matty, taking a deep breath in of, well… him. He smells like a dizzying combination of Marlboros and woody aftershave because of course, he does.

“That’s it, much better. It’ll be a whole fuckin’ ordeal if you pass out on me, so stay with me here. Can you do that?” he questions, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Yeah… yeah, I can. Thank you,” you say softly, trying to disregard the sparks radiating under Matty’s palm. 

You stay like this for a few breaths longer, Matty doesn’t look away from you and you’re not so sure that it’s only because he doesn’t want you to conk out. His gloved hand gives yours an encouraging squeeze before letting go slowly. The heat still lingers as he retrieves his tools a second time, the flexing of his bicep under your grasp reminds you that you should probably let go of him now. But, the moment you start to retract your hand, he glances at you and speaks in that silky tone of his.

“You don’t have to let go, s’okay. You can use me like a stress toy, or something. I don’t really care,” he shrugs, winking at you. 

You just nod dumbly, your eyes going a little wider as you settle your hand over his bare arm again, right over the top of his Newcastle United seahorse tattoo. You’d like to use him in other ways too, but that’s not very appropriate, now is it? 

You let out a sigh as you come to the same point in the process again, Matty lining up the needle diligently while keeping your nipple clamped with the metal forceps, but this time, you get to cling to his arm. You don’t want to distract him, because it would be your loss in the end, but there is a sense of satisfaction when you feel his bicep flex slightly as you trace your thumb along the symbol inked on his skin, following the curve of the seahorses mane with your nail. 

“Okay, love. Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m going to do it on three, and when I say three, I need you to take a sharp breath in for me, like this,” he instructs, making a lot of gestures with his hands while he talks, then shows you what he means with a harsh inhale through his nose. 

You breathe out a weak “okay”, already gripping his arm harder from the anticipation building up to a high. You decide it’s best not to watch, especially since you’d promised you wouldn’t pass out. You let your head rest back against the chair, your nose scrunching as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Matty begins to count down, increasing the pressure of the clamp. 1. 2. 3. You inhale sharply through your nose at the same time that an unprecedented amount of burning pain reverberates through your chest, your eyes snapping open. You’re clawing at his arm, a cry ripping past your lips while tears well up and blur your vision. It’s a feeling so intense that it’s seeping through you to your stomach, crawling like the meanest sunburn. Of all the piercings you’ve gotten, you can say without a doubt that this takes first prize for the most painful.

“Oh, fuck!” you sob, the sound being embarrassingly close to a full-bodied moan. 

Matty slides the jewelry through while swiftly retracting the needle, trying to stifle the way the sound you’d made was affecting him, echoing in his skull in a way he knows it shouldn’t. He doesn’t even flinch despite the way your nails are leaving angry, red crescents marred on his skin. He quickly screws the barbell together before completely retracting his hands from you, taking one more glance at his handiwork before consoling you, his heart seemingly aching for the pretty girl in his chair.

“I know, I know. Hurts like a bitch, but you’re halfway done. Doing so good, you’re alright,” he murmurs, reaching the gloved back of his hand to your face to wipe some of the stray tears on your cheeks.

You just whine, the radiating pain only now starting to subside as you keep your hold on his arm, now smoothing over the marks you’d left with your fingertips as if you’re kissing them better. His thumb grazes along your cheek for a little too long for it to be accidental. Matty’s praise while he wipes away your tears is making your mind fuzzy, it’s like he’s numbing the pain; the sweetest morphine. 

Your gasps for breath are slowing, the pain like a dull pulse, easing its grip on you. But now, mortification is starting to sink in now that you’re not reeling from shooting pain. One of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen just watched you in one of your most vulnerable moments, and there’s still one piercing to go, much to your dismay. 

“Fuck, this is embarrassing,” you admit with a breathy laugh at your own expense. 

“Nah, don’t be embarrassed. You could’ve done much worse, probably,” he says, looking amused as he shakes his head at you.

“Like what?” “I dunno… like, socked me in the face as a fight or flight response.”

You laugh at that, a bright sound filling the room that makes Matty’s smile grow fonder as he gazes down at you with those pretty, sparkly eyes. The moment lingers on for a few beats, tension blooming between you that almost makes you forget about the throbbing ache of your left breast (almost). 

“You do know I have to do the other one right? Unless you’re a bit odd and like the one-piercing look,” he reminds cautiously over the clinking metallic sound of him picking up his tools. 

“I know,” you sigh, “can you do it fast?” 

“Erm… I’ll do it as quickly as I can without making it cockeyed, but I reckon you’ll be fine. Besides, the second one’s always easier from what I’ve seen.”

He doesn’t seem like the type that would elude you for the sake of false security, so you take his word as gospel, settling in to prepare yourself for what’s hopefully a more tolerable experience. His next words have your heart thrumming against your ribs.

“Can you handle it?” he asks, more of a challenge than a question.

You nod at him quietly, absentmindedly drawing little feather-light swirls on his bicep. The incentive of his praise is becoming all too tempting. You want to handle it, you want to show him that you can do it. There’s a new, honeyed kind of heat seeping into your bones. 

“Good girl. You’re a strong one, love,” he praises, sensing just how eager you are.

The next pulse you feel doesn’t come from your chest. Good girl? He has to be fucking with you. Jesus, does he talk to all of his customers like this? Does he wipe all of their tears too? Something in you wants to believe he doesn’t. He watches as your lips part slowly, your lashes fluttering as you look up at him. You have to know.

“Do you call all your customers that?” you whisper, blinking up at him coyly.

“Not really, no. Only the pretty ones who deserve it.”

Your breath comes out as a shudder, it’s unfair how easily he leaves you stunned. He clicks his tongue casually before getting back to work, all too pleased by the look on your face. You know the routine by now, Matty makes quick work of clamping your nipple and arranging the prodding tip of the needle just so. You’re still clinging to his arm, or your personal stress toy, something you’ve grown very familiar to the feel of throughout your time here. The countdown starts, he’s not giving you as much time to prepare. 1. 2. 3. What was more like a shriek from earlier comes out as a whine this time, a high-pitched, whimpery noise spilling from you. You don’t curse or practically maul his arm this time, but it’s still painful, you can’t say you’re fond of how vividly you can feel the needle go in and out amidst the burning sting. 

“Beautiful, atta girl,” he whispers, screwing the end of the barbell on before leaning back to admire his work, his eyes unabashedly glued to how the jewelry sits prettily on your breasts.

You have no clue if he’s talking about you, your tits, or the job he’d done, but it makes your skin warm all the same. 

Finally, you allow yourself to look at your chest, gently sliding your hand off of his bicep to prop yourself up on your arms and get a good look at the two new adornments. Shit, they look good on you, better than you’d hoped, and perfectly symmetrical thanks to him. He smirks when he notices the way you’re gawking at the piercings, knowing that the pain is barely a thought in your mind now, too distracted by how newly desirable you must feel. Matty likes knowing that one, he’s good at his job, and two, that he’s just helped you feel sexier. He’s really enjoying watching you admire yourself and in turn, his work. There’s a slight stir beneath his baggy pants, which he knows should never happen while he’s with a client, but you might just be the sweetest thing that’s ever been in his chair. He’s allowing himself a pass.

“Shit, Matty, they’re really nice,” you gape, your stomach swooping when you glance up to see the smug look playing on his lips.

“Yeah, they came out mint. Suit you nicely, don’t they?” he says, daring to dance along the line of being unprofessional as he then glances down at your tits and whistles. 

What a boy.

“Thank you… for everything I mean,” 

“Don’t mention it, you were great,” Matty smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he waves off your gushing.

Butterflies are rampaging in your stomach, god, why does he have to be so lovely? He looks like he has something he wants to say, but it goes unspoken, rattling around in his head instead. His expression is hard to read, but would you be deluding yourself to say there’s a tinge of longing? A few beats of quiet tick by, and you’re now becoming acutely aware of the fact that you no longer have a reason to be topless, awkwardly crossing your arms. Always so attentive, Matty suddenly straightens up and reaches over your body, his chain dangling in front of your face as he grabs your shirt and bra from the counter. He places them on your lap and politely turns away as if he’s never seen you undressed, clearing his throat like that will clear the thick tension in the air. 

You wince as soon as the cups of your bra meet your immensely tender breasts, sucking in a sharp breath through your teeth as you power through clasping it. The sensitivity is something you’d been warned about, and now you get to joyfully experience it firsthand for the next however many weeks. Your eyes are on Matty’s back as you slip your shirt over your head, taking note of how rigid he seems as he gathers the after-piercing care papers for you. But maybe it’s in your head. You haven’t known him very long at all, it’s a dangerous game to assume any of the tension of this afternoon was real when you were freaking out for more than half of it.

“Right, any questions for me?” he asks, striding over to hand you the pages.

Are you single?Can we go out?Should we make out right now?How are you real?

“No, I think I’m alright.”

“Okay, well, if you’re not woozy, you can go ahead and stand up when you’re ready,” he says, clasping his hands together as if he’s wrapping up his job well done. 

With the care pamphlet in one hand, you start to slowly swing your legs over to the side, noticing the way Matty stands at attention like he’s ready to catch you if your legs give out. But they don’t, you’re able to stand with minimal wobbles, shaking out your hands to try and relax your poor, recovering body. 

The walk back to the front of the parlor is quiet, the both of you trying to grapple with the tension you couldn’t quite leave behind in the chair. There’s not much else to say, is there? You’re both standing next to the door now, and Matty retracts one of his hands from within his pockets to hold it out to you. Nothing says “I just blurred the lines of professionality while piercing your tits and now this is goodbye” like a good old handshake, does it? You try to keep your expression neutral even though this all feels quite bittersweet, grasping his hand with a firm shake. It’s the first time you’ve felt his hand without the latex glove between you, they’re soft, but you can tell he works with his hands, the callouses on his fingertips grazing your skin.

“Lovely to meet you, sorry I wasn’t a chick,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, you too. And don’t worry about that, I’m glad it was you,” you reply, perhaps being a little too sincere, but it feels right to say. 

“... well, listen, get home safe, alright? Take care of yourself, call if you have any problems,” he says, once again seeming like he’s biting his tongue, keeping himself from saying something to you. 

You reach for the handle of the door, but you don’t open it. You look back at him like you’re giving him one more chance to tell you what you’re hoping to hear, but he doesn’t, he just offers a nod with an unreadable expression on his face. Heartache.

“See you, Matty,” you nod in return, opening the door and shutting it behind you.

You evaluate your situation on the walk back to your car. You’ve rid yourself of the urge to get your tits pierced, and they look fantastic, but your new problem is that you have a massive crush on your body piercer that you’re likely never going to see again unless you get another piercing. It’d be a rather expensive hobby to get a piercing just to see his face, so scratch that. Your only option is to be reminded of him every time you take your shirt off, how miserable is that?

Little do you know, the moment the shop door closed behind you, Matty groaned with his face in his hands, mentally kicking himself for not asking you out, or at least getting your number. Sure, you were a client, he had to be careful, but shit, you weren’t just any client, now were you? What was wrong with him? Something about you left the body piercer stiff and tongue-tied, replaying every moment of your encounter back in his mind. Never in his life had Matty Healy felt anything for a customer.

—---One month later—----

After a hellish month of healing, scabbing, and getting your piercings caught on things, you’ve decided that there’s no real point in having nipple piercings if no one gets to see them but you. You’d like to tell yourself that you don’t think about Matty as much anymore, but that would be laughably dishonest. Dating apps are just about one of the most aggravating wastes of time ever, and you’ve had no luck meeting people naturally, so here comes the next best thing: blind dates. Your close friend fancies herself to be somewhat of a matchmaker, she’s been talking up this guy to you for days now, telling you how funny and totally your type he is, and nothing could possibly go wrong if she set you up. You have your doubts, but still, you find yourself in a cafe waiting for your mystery man to sweep you off your feet with his supposed punchy one-liners. What you don’t expect, however, is to watch a very familiar mohawked man stride into the place, the eyes that have patronized your dreams every night scanning across the cafe until they lock onto you. 

—----------------------------------------------

Don’t you worry, I won’t leave you hanging with just tension, ofc there’s going to be a smutty part two <3

Thank you very much for reading, I hope it wasn’t underwhelming! And thank you to any other writers that I reached out to to consult about my ideas, ily, mwah!

#oh god I’m nervous about this one #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #the 1975 smut #the 1975 x reader #matty healy fic #body piercer!Matty

[wrestletotheground]

you get me closer to god - matty healy x reader (part one)

boss!matty

cw: ! minors dni ! smut, age gap (20/34), power imbalance, cheating, f!reader, dom/sub, male masturbation, spit, cumplay, voyeurism, semi-public, office work affair, general filth and nasty behaviour

wc: 2.1k

8:30am

you're sat on the sofa across from matty in his office, basking in the slanted rays of sunlight that peep through the blinds. the office is warm, the air filled with a faint musky scent that's recently become a comfort to you.

he called you in early supposedly to discuss your 'behaviour in the workplace', but so far it's just been him making small talk about work and typing away, deliberately acting oblivious towards the tension in the room. he throws you the occasional glance over his computer screen, but they never linger long enough to satisfy you. you're practically twiddling your thumbs in conversation, vying for his attention any way you can by throwing in little jokes and references or tapping your fingers on the chair, but he won't budge.

his breaking point is when you clear your throat obnoxiously loudly, spreading your legs and crossing them again in your skimpy little skirt just to taunt him. and oh, it works. this time it's more than a short glance. his jaw clenches as he watches you, knuckles turning white as he balls his hands into fists. it takes everything in him not to pounce on you, as if you'd mind. you smile sweetly, a glint in your eyes as you relax into the chair.

he mutters something under his breath before shutting off his laptop and clearing away the stacks of papers that litter the space in front of him. a few pens clatter to the floor as he carelessly throws everything aside. all the while you can't stop staring at him, trying to figure out the almost unreadable expression on his face.

he taps the desk in front of him twice, gesturing with his head and looking at you expectantly. the fiery look in his eyes tells you you're in for it today. he stares intently, hungrily, as you stand up and walk around as slowly as possible, just to push his buttons. before you have the chance to get up onto the desk, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into him, making your entire face heat up.

'you know exactly what you're doing, don't you? been walking around all week in these little skirts,' he says, giving it a tug to emphasise his point. you bite the tip of your crimson painted nail and shake your head, acting naive and failing miserably. 'they leave nothing to the imagination baby, we can't be having that. nono,' he tuts, shaking his head and looking up at you disapprovingly. 'all those filthy boys in the office gawking at my girl, save it for the real man, the boss, yeah?' you feel yourself flush at his words, and all you can do is mumble out a vague 'yes' sound as your gaze wanders from his eyes to his lips and back again, almost like you're trying to memorise every detail in case he disappears.

'be good for me, darling,' he whispers, staring up at you like you're the messiah. 'mm, whatever you want,' you reply, tilting your head back as he starts running his hands up and down your body, squeezing your hips. you feel so small under his touch, acutely aware of how easy and effortless it is for him to hold so much power over you. he pulls at the fabric around your waist and you help him out by shoving the flimsy skirt down and kicking it off to the side somewhere, making his breath hitch in his throat.

without another word he lifts you up onto the desk. the cool wood touching your thighs sends a shiver up your spine, quickly being replaced by the warmth of his hands on your knees, spreading them apart without breaking eye contact. he's standing now, towering above your face and making you feel smaller than ever. 'you gonna help me out angel?'

you nod quickly, heart hammering in your chest and heat pulsing elsewhere. your thighs clamp around him, hips pushing towards the obvious bulge in his suit trousers. a condescending laugh echoes through the room. 'oh already? haven't even touched you yet and already you're fucking desperate for me,' he says, pulling your knees out from his waist. 'no, please, im just-' he cuts you off by grabbing the collar of your shirt and pushing his lips onto yours, unable to refrain from the way your voice wavers as you fall into subspace for him yet again.

the faint taste of your cherry lip balm makes him impossibly more turned on and his tongue presses into your mouth like he could just swallow you whole.

he unzips his trousers and you immediately reach out to touch him, desperate to help him, to feel him, regain some of that power, but as soon as your fingertips graze his stomach he swats your hand away and steps backwards. 'did I say you could touch me?' your head shakes of its own accord, and you whine in protest when he sits back down onto the office chair, leaving you exposed and helpless.

'you don't get to touch me or yourself. eyes on me, legs apart and keep them pretty hands behind your back unless I say, okay?' you sigh and breathe out a shaky 'okay', your head swimming at the thought of being there solely for his pleasure.

he grabs at his dick through the tight trousers and grunts at the relief. your eyes are trained on his hand, the way the veins push out as his fingers tighten around the clear outline. the way the silver band on his ring finger shines in the morning light.

you notice how his face is directly facing your cunt, drops of arousal spilling out and seeping into the baby pink cotton the longer he stares. it's getting harder and harder not to touch yourself, or him for that matter. especially when he lifts his hips and pulls down his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles. especially when he strokes along his length tantalisingly slowly, teasing the both of you. you're utterly fixated on the mouth-watering shape under the fabric, straining to be released.

he pushes his thumb under the waistband, momentarily denting the perfect shape of his rose tattoo. he moves them down, but only enough to free his cock. it's leaking already, red and angry and desperate and he groans at the feeling of the air hitting it.

'fuck, look what you do to me, love,' he says as he finally lets his hand wrap around his erection. your thighs twitch at his words.

he starts off slowly as usual. long, languid strokes as he drinks in your body in front of him, especially enraptured by the wet patch between your legs. you want nothing more than to wrap your mouth, your hand even, around him, help him feel good, but you're not in the mood of being punished today. instead you just let the coil in your stomach tighten with every little movement and sound that comes from him; let him render you an embarrassingly wet mess in front of his eyes.

you try your hardest not to squirm, not to give in and have him watch you disappointedly as you fuck yourself with your fingers selfishly, but good girls don't do that. you need to be everything he wants.

'lift up your shirt,' he huffs, teeth baring for a second as he pumps himself desperately. you oblige, gently hiking up the hem of your perfectly ironed white shirt and turning it into a vulgar sight as it touches your neck, revealing your chest to him, framed in pretty black lace that you always wear just for him.

'shit, my pretty little girl, fucking love those tits, all for me, aren't they?'

'all for you, no one else,' you reply, pushing them together and rubbing your fingers over your nipples in an attempt to ease some of the pressure inside you. you're so worked up that the simple action sends a jolt of electricity through you, making your back arch.

'what did I fucking say, leave your shirt up there, hands behind your back,' he spits. you inadvertently whimper as you obey him once again, catching the shirt under your armpits to keep it up above your tits as you place your hands back onto the hard wood behind you.

waves of humiliation crash over you at how bare you feel before him, and you have to look away for a second to regain composure.

your eyes flick to the gold rimmed photo on the wall and you can't help but wonder how long he's needed this. his appetite for you is seemingly insatiable at all times, despite the woman in white pictured next to him outside the chapel.

you're snapped out of your thoughts as a strangled groan leaves his chest. you look down and see his thumb swiping precum over the head of his cock. his hips start to buck upwards and he continues stroking up and down, faster now. you make a show of grinding up into the air as he stares at you with eyes clouded in lust. your pussy is throbbing, begging for anything, even a gust of wind, to soothe the ache that's worsening and worsening the longer you watch him getting himself off.

suddenly he stands up and comes towards you, eyebrows scrunched up in desire. he taps your jaw with one hand, the other continuing his unrelenting pace. you know the signal by now, and you open your mouth obligingly and let out a theatrical moan as he spits onto your tongue. seeing you swallow and grin devilishly up at him is what tips him over the edge.

'fuck- baby- come here,' a series of grunts falls from his lips as his chest heaves, fucking his fist hard and fast. he hooks a finger under the waistband of your underwear and pulls it outward, leaning forward so his tip is practically touching your abdomen. 'what...' you trail off, catching on to his plan as soon as spurts of cum start to dribble into your underwear, soaking and mixing into your slick.

'fucking hell,' he moans through shaky breaths. your breath catches in your throat, releasing a groan of pleasure as some of the warmth drips down and lands on your burning skin. he whimpers, eyes focused on your core and then rolling back into his head as he milks the last few drops out.

you can't help how quickly your hand goes to your aching bundle of nerves, desperate for more, hard contact, but he grabs a hold of your wrist before you get the chance. the glare he gives you makes you retract instantly, remembering his earlier orders. you lean back on your hands again reluctantly like a good girl, to please him.

he gives a satisfactory hum before gripping your neck, making you gasp and splutter with the force. even though he's a bit dazed and out of breath, the only thing that falters is his voice as he orders you around like his little plaything. 'you're gonna walk around with this pretty little cunt covered in me all day, right? come back to me at the end of the day and if you've been good I'll reward you,' as he speaks, he lets the elastic snap back against your hot skin and palms at your core through the soaked fabric. you nod and whine at the feeling of the warmth being pushed against you, the sticky mess spreading and mixing in an obscene concoction of lust, your head rolling back in ecstasy. it's wrong - so wrong - but you can't get enough.

'thank you sir,' you reply, your face burning up at the shame gnawing at the back of your mind. he rolls his eyes at how needy you look, not even 9am and you're already grinding against his hand, begging for anything he's willing to give you. 'pathetic,' he whispers, giving your cunt a light slap and dragging another sound from your lips. he slides his middle finger up his slit, collecting the milky remainder and shoves it in your mouth. he watches you moan in contentment as you lap it up, relishing in the salty taste and eventually releasing it with a pop.

without warning, all contact is lost and he's ordering you down off his desk to go back out to yours. you look up at the clock. fuck. 8:51. you scramble to get your skirt back on and fix yourself up as he pulls up his jeans with a smug look plastered on his face, throwing you a wink as he does up the zipper.

'enjoy your day sweetheart,' he smirks, grabbing your ass and pushing you out the door just before the first of your coworkers start to file into their respective cubicles. you check your reflection in a nearby computer screen to make sure you don't look as flustered as you feel, before sitting down. it's going to be a long day.

~

#boss!matty au #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfic #matty healy imagine #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #matty healy #the 1975 #trumanblack #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann

[imagine-that-100]

Chicken Shop Date | Part 7 |

By @imagine-that-100​​ and @alovesreading​​

Description: Matty Healy x Reader (Female) | You and your best friend Amelia came up with a very simple idea of taking celebrities on awkward chicken shop dates, and somehow, it’s managed to become both of your jobs. In the past, you’ve found sitting across from some of the biggest stars on the planet and eating chicken nuggets easy. But then Amelia manages to score you a date with the man who you’ve been obsessed with since you were nineteen; Matty Healy.

Word Count: 36.9k

A/N: Bestiesssss, we’re back with a monster of a chapter. Hope you’re ready for smut, angst, and fluff. This brings it allllllllll! Honestly can’t wait to see what you all think of this one, please give us all of your reactions as we love to see it and it keeps us motivated to write. We have a little cameo in this chapter, she was already going to be in it before anything happened irl so yeah, funny how things turn out hahaha. Thank you for being patient and sticking with us, we really hope you enjoy!  x

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |

| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |

~*~*~*~ January 1st 2023 ~*~*~*~

Waking up in his arms feels like something out of a dream.

You feel warm inside and out, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips feeling his slow breaths hitting the back of your neck. You faintly remember coming back to his and the concrete walls surrounding you confirm that your hazy memory isn’t betraying you.

The light peeking through the windows burns harshly even through your closed eyes but it isn’t enough to bother you when you’re in such bliss to be waking up next to Matty. Or rather, in front of him, since he’s got his chest pressed against your back with an arm wrapped around your waist which has you flush against him.

A hum of content falls from your lips as you relish and shuffle impossibly closer to him, your movement making him stir in his sleep and open his eyes a few seconds later.

Matty smiles seeing the back of your head the second he opens his eyes, nuzzling his face on the back of your neck and pressing soft kisses on your skin to let you know he’s awake.

A string of giggles leaves you when feeling his curls tickling your neck and his plush lips on your skin causing an eruption of butterflies in your belly.

“Good morning baby,” Matty greets with a smile on his face, one that you can feel in the crook of your neck where he finds a place to hide and continues to drop kisses.

His raspy morning voice makes something inside you shift, and combined with the feeling of his fingers clutching you tighter, you start letting thoughts run around your head that you know you shouldn’t be having this early in the morning.

It gets worse when his fingers let go of your waist and start to wander, at the same time as his mouth lazily leaves a trail of kisses down to your shoulders. You feel his fingertips tracing to the side of your stomach and lowering until it reaches your hip, the smile on your face growing when the faint touch seems to electrify your body awake.

And then his mouth goes retracing its path from your shoulders up your neck whilst his fingers teasingly ghost from your hip to the middle of your belly, falling down until it reaches your lower stomach and your breath hitches in your throat rather loudly in the silence you’ve fallen inside his room.

Still hiding on your neck, you can feel him smirking, not to mention his hot and heavy breath getting closer to your ear where he whispers, “How are you feeling?” as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

Humming, you let yourself get lost in his presence. The pads of his fingers rubbing circles on your lower stomach which have your body reacting at the growing desperation of feeling him everywhere else. Like the rest of your skin is jealous he’s concentrating solely on that spot.

“Good,” You eventually reply, but knowing that if you need anything, and that he’ll most likely give it to you if you ask. So you add, “A bit horny though.”

Matty chuckles into your neck. A bit, an understatement. He had felt your hips writhe just before he had asked you, his dick twitching in his Calvins at your noticeable response to him.

“Right,” He hums and starts pressing his lips on your neck again, only this time they are more wet and open mouthed kisses than just simple pecks, “Only a bit?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip to not make any sound when you feel him start sucking on a certain spot in your neck which he had taken a mental note yesterday that you enjoyed.

He grows more intently at bruising your neck in that spot in particular, making you take a deep breath so you don’t give into making noises just yet. But he knows exactly what you’re doing so in a swift movement, he gets a hold of your leg and lifts it up enough for him to fit one of his legs in between yours, pushing his hips forwards so you feel him growing harder. And he can’t help but silently congratulate himself when you finally let out a gasp that turns into a mewl that satisfies him for a few seconds.

Matty’s fingers have a grip on the plush flesh of your inner thigh, the pressure is delicious combined with the rolling of your hips as you’re both looking to keep the friction going, and his mouth continuing its attack on the skin of your neck has your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

You’re about to complain when his fingers let go of your leg, letting it fall over his leg in between yours, but then you feel the running up your inner thigh until it grazes the edge of your underwear. You just can’t help but let out a high pitched moan which is pleading for him to touch you right where you need him.

It’s lucky Matty has grown to read your mind, your sounds, your body language, because he gives you just what you want by pushing the fabric of your underwear aside and runs his fingers up and down your slick.

“F-fuck,” You let out a strangled curse at the slight pressure he applies when he finds your clit, his fingers moving agile and easily since you’re already wet for him.

Feeling him growing harder, pressed against your arse makes you even more turned on, and the groan he lets out in your ear goes straight down to your core too.

After biting your earlobe, he teases you further by asking, “What do you need, baby?” as if your throbbing cunt wasn’t clearly clenching around nothing.

“Your fingers.” You answer breathlessly, half lidded eyes from the pleasure he was giving you.

You hear him hum, pleased with your answer before his fingers curl to go inside you. Easily getting two in, knuckles deep, to stretch you out heavenly.

The noise of his fingers pumping in and out of you mixed with your breathless moans and gasps and his groans made for a pornographic scene but after a minute, you need more of him. You can feel his hips bucking into your arse in search of relief and the tease of his dick pressed against you was driving you insane.

So in between your ragged breaths, you let him know, “Baby- I need you. Need you to fuck me.”

The request unravels something inside him, a guttural groan leaving his throat and his fingers leaving you in a haste.

You whine at the loss of him, but your noise is hushed by his fingers coming up to your mouth for you to suck clean. You do as you’re silently instructed, Matty watching you over your shoulder as you sink your mouth onto his slick wet fingers with his mouth falling agape. You make a show of how much you enjoy tasting yourself on his fingers, which ends up with him using his other hand to grab a fistful of your hair and pull on it so your head is thrown back at an angle good enough for his lips to crash against yours.

You swallow a loud moan that falls from his lips when your tongues meet and he tastes you on your tongue, his hand tracing down your front, pulling his borrowed top up exposing more of your skin until he once again finds your hips. Then he completely removes his hand from your body so he can pull down his boxers and free his hard on, you’re pushing your underwear down your hips and quickly pulling it down your legs and shedding yourself off it.

He breaks the kiss to let out a hiss of pleasure, finally feeling the soft skin of your arse freely pressed against his hard cock.

Helping him a little, you lift your leg up so he can position himself better in between your legs. Your cheeks pressed together as he guides his hard dick up and down your folds, gathering your arousal and mixing it with the precum already dripping from his angry red head.

He giggles when he taunts you by rubbing the head of his cock on your clit, making you shiver and squirm from the desperate need to have him fill you up.

“Matty-” You choke out in a beg, feeling yourself clenching around nothing again and growing impatient.

The need he has to feel you wrapped tight around him again interrupts his thoughts of even continuing to tease you, so he properly lines himself up with your entrance and pushes forward to stretch you out and allow himself in again.

Cries of pleasure fall from both of you, creating a gorgeous harmony to your ears. The angle is something else, you can feel him so deep inside you and he feels like you’re trying to swallow him whole with how tight you are around him.

He pulls his hips back slightly, cautious of going too further back since it feels like with the tightness of your walls you could push him out, and pushes back in again until his hips are pressed flush against your arse.

The pace is set after a few more thrusts, intently and not too fast, hard enough for you to feel him press against that spot that drives you mad with each movement of his hips, drawing loud moans from you.

Praising you for how good you feel, he keeps going. The bed starts moving with you, your arousal wetting where you met and showing through the noises it causes every time your skin meets.

A thin coat of sweat appears on your skin as you keep going, your hand coming to fist the sheets next to you in an attempt to keep you grounded as you feel like the more the knot tightening in your lower belly, the more you lose grasp of reality.

Matty’s hand came behind your leg to push it up so he had more range of movement to push his hips forward and that is the thing which makes you both grow even louder. You have to press your face on the pillow to drown your moans, eventually having to turn your head so you can catch some air.

You’re clenching so hard around him, it’s driving him insane and the messy moans and groans he lets out he doesn’t even have the mind to think about. It makes everything for you so much better, not only is he making your head spin, knowing he’s feeling just as much pleasure makes your skin grow hotter.

In between choked out moans, you let him know you are about to tip over the edge, “Baby, I’m so close- F-feels so good!”

Your praise makes him grow even more intently to make you cum, so snaking his arm over your leg, he reaches down until he finds your clit and starts rubbing it, adding enough pressure to have you seeing stars.

“Oh fuck!” You let out loudly right before you cum, legs trembling as he continues to rub on your swollen clit and thrusting in and out of your slick cunt.

You’re clenching so hard around him, he can’t hold back any longer and cums hard, thrusts going sloppy as your tight walls milk him out through his orgasm.

He continues to ride your highs out, both of you coming back to your senses and it’s only when he pulls out of you that he realises a mistake you both hadn’t noticed.

“Fuck…” Matty curses under his breath when he notices he’s not got to shed himself of a condom because he forgot to even put one on.

For a few seconds you remain blissfully unaware, still tingling with adrenaline and excitement, you just think he’s cursing after the wave of pleasure and you giggle to yourself. But then he’s pulling his boxers up and running off the bed to the bathroom like he’s been shocked back to life and it leaves you confused.

That is until you feel it. You feel his cum slowly dripping out of you.

And when he walks through his bedroom door again, with a damp small towel in hand, you narrow your eyes at him like you’ve caught him red handed.

“Matthew.” You scorn with a low voice and he gives you a childish side smile like he’s trying to act innocent.

He lifts the sheets up from your body, showing you still wearing his shirt but your bottom half bare and sprawled on top of the bed.

“Sorry,” He apologises lightheartedly, kneeling on the bed until he’s hovering above you and leans down to press a kiss on your lips, “I didn’t realise.”

All you can do is giggle, because you hadn’t either, it’s not a surprise it felt so good. Thankfully you’re on birth control and you knew you had only been with each other so this wasn’t a matter to absolutely go insane about.

“It’s okay.” You mumble against his lips, stealing another kiss before he could get to cleaning you up like he was intending to.

Cupping his jaw, you break the kiss but leave him with a few pecks before you pat his cheek and instruct him to, “Go on.”

He steals one last cheeky kiss before looking down and doing what he was meant to do, which ends up being delayed as he seems entranced by the way he sees his seed spilling out of you slowly.

You’re watching him intently, biting your bottom lip not to laugh at the way he’s staring, but then a fair few more seconds go by and he’s completely frozen in his place so you have to snap him out of it.

“Matty!” You exclaim with the hint of a laugh behind it, which ends up spilling from your lips when his eyes shoot up to look at you and then back down and he ends up clearing his throat to nod.

“Sorry.” He apologises again, finally bringing the damp cloth down to clean you up. You hiss at the feeling of it brushing against your sensitive clit and his jaw falls when you swallow a moan.

Concentrating particularly hard, he finishes his task a minute later, once again leaving for the bathroom not without kissing you once more but this time reminding you, “You’re so hot baby.”

That draws another string of laughter from you, entirely amused by his behaviour. You can’t stop the loopy smile that breaks on your face when you watch him hurriedly leave the room like he has no time to waste when you’re around him.

Your heart doubles in size in your chest and as you gather the energy to get up to head to the bathroom yourself. You guess that the next few days with him will look just like this and you must admit, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

~*~*~*~*~*~

You were correct. Making the most of the beginning of January with Matty really did involve a lot of what happened after your date and the morning after. It was rare you ever left each other alone.

In fact, when you weren’t getting better acquainted with each other's bodies, you still didn’t leave each other alone. The first few days you spent solely at Matty’s house, and you both just relaxed into each other's company, but there wasn’t ever really a second you left each other unaccompanied.

If anyone else was in your presence, they would have thought you were both being embarrassingly clingy. Something which in private you absolutely can’t get enough of.

It was just the simple things about being in his presence that made you so happy. When he would lift your legs over his lap and trace soft patterns on your thigh, or him raising his arm so you would cuddle into him as you practically shared one seat on his three seater settee.

You cooked together, watched TV together, showered together, and just chilled out together doing your own things but you were always connected in one way or another. If Matty wanted to go on his PlayStation, your legs would be on his lap and you either watched him play and chatted as he did, or you read one of his books.

Not to mention the way he would lay down and put his head in your lap, or if you were in bed he would cuddle up to you refusing to let you go. You also found that Matty left kisses on you every chance he could. Whether that was a peck on the lips, or a random few placed on your arm or your knee or your stomach. He would basically kiss you any chance he could and then proceed to cuddle you.

One of the things you personally thought was the cutest thing about him, is that when you were getting ready to go to sleep each night, Matty would always interrupt you doing your skincare. At first he was just being a dick, squeezing or scooping more product out than you needed and then smearing it on your face to mess with you. But then you would start to use the excess on him so it wasn’t going to waste and that was how every night you started doing each other's skincare. Something which always had the both of you smiling goofily at each other and giggling until it hurt your stomach.

Everything was just so mundane and domestic. You let yourself indulge the thought of this being something more and you secretly really loved it. But you weren’t going to let yourself get too in your head about that. You’re enjoying yourself and you’re certain that Matty is too so you’ll wait for the conversation to be brought up, you’re in no rush to label anything. You’re just happy you’re along for the ride.

On the 3rd, Matty had his friend Sam drop Mayhem and Allen round for the day and you got to meet them both and they were the goodest boys. Despite Mayhem being fucking huge, he’s the softest boy and was so cute. Allen is just as good and it was a real shame when Matty got Sam to pick the both of them up the day after.

You’re sure he only did it so he could get you back into bed because whenever either of you would start something, one of the dogs would interrupt wanting attention. After the fifth time of it happening, you could see Matty slowly losing his patience so it wasn’t a shock that after the dogs left, you very quickly found yourself being undressed in his kitchen. And after bruising your knees for him, the both of you let desperation get the best of you, neither of you even attempted trying to make it to bed or even his settee in the next room.

On the 5th, George and Charli invited the both of you to their house, in the day this time, and you got to see it free of people socialising. You had a really nice day with them, Charli once again teasing you about Matty, just as much as Matty does himself, but you know she’s coming from a good place and seeing her and George together in their home filled your heart with so much joy.

A relationship like theirs is what you’ve been striving for. Their happiness is unmatched and the way they look at each other when they think no one else is looking is beyond heartwarming. You love them together and you can see just how much they adore each other.

The day after that was slightly different from the rest. You went for a walk around the area where he lives, and went out and bought yourselves some lunch at a cafe before heading back. It had been a really lovely day, but later on when you were lying down together and you were holding hands, your fingers intertwined, and you noticed a small scar on his knuckle. And when you asked about it, you almost regretted doing so immediately, but only because it looked like it hurt so much for him to tell you the story behind it.

Matty on the other hand, once he got through telling you, was happy that you finally knew about him and about his past. He hates the story, knowing all the consequences of what happened back when he got the scar, but he’s just happy you finally know pretty much everything about his past, relationship wise.

Throughout the time it took for him to tell you, he was apologising for getting emotional about it, as if he wasn’t explaining personal things that weren’t easy to get off his chest. You would hate to think that he would ever feel the need to apologise for crying about something so upsetting that happened to him. You kept assuring him that it was okay and you wiped away his tears when he didn’t do it himself sometimes and you were there to listen, and it just made you believe that you got to know him on a deeper, more intimate level.

You understand why he told you, you think he mostly wanted to warn you that he sometimes still had nightmares about it. And he told you that sometimes they wrecked him so badly that he had to call Flo to make sure that she was alright to calm his tears and erratic heartbeat before he could even try to go back to sleep. He explained that thankfully they were infrequent now but it was another reason that made it more difficult for him to sleep which is why he stayed up late a lot of the time.

It made you want to wrap him in bubble wrap and protect him at all costs. You could definitely tell that there was some factor of worry with him telling you, as if his trauma would somehow put you off him which it didn’t in the slightest. It just made you closer and that night you fell asleep with Matty cuddling you possibly the tightest he ever had before.

By the 7th, it felt bittersweet that a week had passed already and you were leaving for LA tomorrow and Matty was about to head off on tour. But you made the most of it. Matty made a show of making you cum on his tongue twice, leaving you aching to be filled and fucked, before he gave into your wishes and buried himself deep inside you over and over until you both came undone together.

After that glorious morning, the both of you reluctantly left the sanctuary of his bedroom and his house to go back to your flat and pack your things ready for LA. It didn’t take you long, you were there no longer than an hour and a half between Matty stopping you from completing your tasks with various make out sessions that he tried to turn into more but you only stopped him from letting it go any further because you knew if you didn’t pack everything and check it over twice you would be panicking later.

Thankfully Matty understood and he helped you pack rather excessively for a two day trip but regardless he found you endearing. Once you were done, Matty persuaded you to go back to his, which you agreed to so on route back both of you grabbed a take out.

After eating like kings and queens, you helped Matty pack for his tour. Like with your outfits for the carpet, your stylists were taking them for you, so you just helped him pack his normal clothes along with things he wanted to take. It took a similar amount of time as it did for you to pack as he was only away for 3 days before he was back in London and he would be staying at home for those days instead of on the bus. He would repack before they headed back on the road.

That night, the both of you fucked again until you were breathlessly clutching each other, entirely blissed out. And you tried your best to stay awake as long as you could afterwards just to extend the time you had with him, but, being the grandma you are, were a bit pathetic and fell asleep around midnight.

Time really felt like it had gotten away from you, it didn’t feel like a week had passed at all. For Matty especially, it felt like maybe two days had passed. He wasn’t ready to let you go yet, he wanted to have you cuddled into his chest like you were that last night forever. For a good hour he jut kept looking down at you and kissing the top of your head wondering how fucking lucky he must be for you to want to be wrapped up in bed with him.

It was nights like that where Matty didn’t mind his insomnia. He got to savour the moment for that bit longer which he would be forever grateful for because he truly can’t get enough of you. As you sleep in his arms, he reads a little from the book he could just about reach without disturbing you, but ultimately he ends up on his phone.

It may come back to bite him but he can’t stop himself from taking a selfie of the both of you lying together like that. He takes a few, one he knows you’ll hate because it’s mostly of your sleeping face with his head poking out above it, but then he raises the phone to take some from above, and the last few he kisses your head again.

After getting lost scrolling through twitter and laughing at the various memes the fans have been posting recently, Matty remembers his account that he deactivated almost a month ago now and curses himself for letting it go for so long. He reactivates it and pisses about on it for a while, tweeting a few things and giving it about half an hour before he deactivates once again.

Once he’s bored of that, he decides to make the most of you cuddling up into him again. He puts his phone on charge and turns off the bedside lamp before wrapping both his arms around you and hugging you tighter. The cute little noise you release, which sounds like a content hum, has Matty’s heart aching even more for you. He’s never been so happy to fall asleep beside someone before.

Waking up the next morning is blissful. Matty’s arm is loosely wrapped around your waist and your senses are completely overcome by him. It was difficult to accept that this would be the last time for a while after waking up to him every day the past week. So you savour it, you don’t get out of bed or even try to move, you just reach for your phone and check your notifications.

When you do, you want to elbow the man beside you awake because the twat had been back on Twitter after you fell asleep. Something which you loved but also slightly hated because you felt like you missed out on him reactivating and seeing something potentially funny, as if you were in bed next to the man himself and have been by his side all week.

When you went onto your phone, you saw screenshots from The 1975 update accounts you follow on there on your anonymous account, and saw that Matty had tweeted.

ok I reactivated so I didn’t loose this, honestly, culturally important account I’ll see you after UK tour gunna be mysterious

The spelling mistake made you chuckle, but it’s the next tweet that has you smiling like a fool before you’re even fully awake.

oh and I’ve got myself a missus so there can't be any kissin, cya losers

Seeing them leaves you with a gooey feeling in your stomach despite reminding yourself not to get ahead of yourself. But because it's your last morning you don’t want to just waste it. You twist yourself around and start kissing the man beside you awake. It may be a little selfish of you but you don't want to miss a second and Matty seems more than happy to wake up when he catches sight of you.

That morning, you spent a fair amount of time in bed, both busy and just cuddling, not wanting it to be over so soon. But when midday arrives you know Matty has to start getting ready to go. He’s meeting everyone at 3pm and on the way he said he wanted to drop you off at Amelia's.

When the time came to say goodbye, it felt bittersweet. You were both excited, you for the Golden Globes and Matty for the start of tour, but you didn’t want to say goodbye. There was a lot of hesitation and it was lucky the both of you set off early because it ended up being so drawn out.

You laughed because you were both only going away for a few days and you would be back for their first night in London. After lots of stolen kisses and an incredibly long hug you finally said goodbye to each other and you made your way into your best friend's flat but not before turning back and blowing a kiss to the cute curly haired brunette who wouldn’t take his eyes off you.

The whole afternoon you were texting each other, and it only stopped when they were soundchecking. But even then he sent you a selfie of himself on the stage which was adorable.

Time ends up escaping you though and knowing they go on stage at 8:30 you decide to send him your last message of the evening because you know that by the time he gets off stage you’ll be on the plane.

Hope your first show back goes amazing, can’t wait to watch all the videos x

Matty’s heart goes all mushy reading that and he doesn’t hesitate for a second to reply.

Thank you baby, have a safe flight xx

Please let me know when you’ve arrived safe xxx

And before you knew it you were on the way to LA.

~*~*~*~

When you land in LA after your 11 hour flight, it was around 1am on the 9th. In normal circumstances, this would be fine and you would be off to sleep easily when you got to your hotel by 2am. But no, you slept for 6 hours on the plane so you weren’t even tired when you got in bed.

So it was at that point you went on Twitter and devoured the content from Matty’s first show back on the road. Nothing about it disappointed and it all made you so excited for the London shows in a few days time.

After you caught up on the previous night's events, Matty must have woken up because he texted you back (you messaged him when you landed to tell him you made it safely) and that sparked a conversation. He told you how amazing the show was and how he wished you were there to see some of the stuff he witnessed.

The conversation moves back to your flight over and he wasn’t surprised at all to hear you slept for a while on the plane. And then he realises that it’s almost 5:30 for you and he forces you off the phone to try and get some more sleep.

It’s something which you reluctantly agreed to, and it was a pointless exercise for a few hours because you just ended up reading the book that you bought in dutyfree that you hoped to read on the plane but only managed a chapter. That being said, you did manage to get another hour or so of sleep around 8am, but you were woken up by Amelia at 9am for you both to go down to breakfast and to start your busy day.

Despite your lack of sleep, you and Amelia headed out to spend your only free day sightseeing. You’ve never been to LA before so you were cramming everything tourist wise in you could think of.

You went and found your favourite people on the walk of fame, before heading into the illusion museum where you both took some hilarious pictures. It made you feel like you were teenagers pissing about again on a day off school, it was so much fun.

Next you went to all the landmarks but thankfully you did this on a tour bus so you weren’t wandering around aimlessly for hours. You had the best time pointing things out from various films you'd seen over the years, it got you all giddy, you felt like a child being given free sweets.

A mistake on your and your best friends' part would be that you went and did the long walk up to the Hollywood sign at the hottest hour of the day. The climate in this part of the world is fucking weird when you’re used to constant dreary weather, and you also realised you’re not as fit as you think you are because your muscles burnt once you were finished. That being said, your and Amelia’s pictures with the sign in the background made it totally worth it.

It was your favourite picture that you took all day. The both of you looked so happy in it and your spirits are so high as it really feels like all of your dreams are coming true. You don’t think you’ve ever been so content in your life, and it really shows in your smile. The first thing you did when you got back to a place with signal was send it to Matty.

Speaking of, Matty’s been texting you most of the day and every time your phone went off and caught a glimpse of his name you felt your cheeks heat up a little as a smile took over your face. It seems like a conditioned reaction for you now, even when he’s not flirting, seeing his name light up your phone just makes you happy. All other notifications seem pretty dull in comparison.

Amelia noticed quite a few times in the day and whilst it warmed her heart to see you happy, there was that feeling bubbling inside her that wanted to protect you from things that could be too good to be true. Yes, you and Matty have a lot of chemistry and you seem to get on like a house on fire. But the last thing she wants is for you to get hurt, so she decides that she needs to talk to you about it.

But when she does that evening, she blindsides you with it.

Currently, you’re in Amelia’s hotel room with her beside you in bed and you’re watching a film. It’s no surprise that your eyes are growing heavy now though as you’ve only had 7 hours sleep in the past 48 hours, and you’ve been awake close to 30 hours and doing a lot in your day.

Crashing feels like an understatement but you’re here beside Amelia now as the both of you are trying to keep each other awake so you’re not horrendously jetlagged for your rehearsal day tomorrow or for the awards themselves the night after. Thankfully she’s been good at keeping you awake but nothing will prepare you for the wake up call she’s about to drop on you.

Your eyes close and it’s like your emotions heighten as you get lost in the feeling of your current situation. You’re in Hollywood with your best friend, about to be a host at the red carpet of one of the most prestigious award events, you’ve just had the best room service food you’ve ever had, laying in a cosy and soft bed as the closing credits score to one of your favourite films is playing in the background.

Nothing could ever top this is all you can think, even everything back home seems to be going wonderfully and you’re about to look for some wood to touch so you don’t jinx it for yourself when you hear Amelia’s soft voice call out to you.

“Hey Y/N/N.”

You hum at first but it turns into a, “Yeah?” and you open your eyes slowly with a blissed look on your face as you turn to look at her.

At first you’re thankful she woke you again because it’s only early still, you definitely needed to not fall asleep just yet. But when you see your best friend turn to face you too, tucking her hand under her cheek to get comfortable over the plush pillows on her bed, you realise she wants to chat.

Amelia sighs softly and her face gets serious, and if that wasn’t enough to scare you a bit, it’s the way her tone changes as she starts saying, “I know you don’t want to hear it and I don’t mean it in the way it’s going to sound but if I don’t say it and you get hurt, I won’t forgive myself.”

Instantly, all the joy in your system disappears, dread seeping in for whatever it is she’s about to say. There’s nothing you’re actually expecting but the weight at the pit of your stomach is getting heavier the more time she takes to continue, “What is it Ames?”

“I know you’re having a lot of fun with Matty and I'm really happy for you.” You almost tune out at the mention of his name, but seeing how serious she is you know it’s another one of those times you need to listen to her, “I truly, honestly am.” She reassures with a slight raise of her eyebrows and a nod as if to emphasise her point.

Yet you’re left waiting for the inevitable but, and sure enough, it comes after a fair few seconds, “But I just want you to be careful… I don’t want you to get feelings, or more feelings, when it could just end up being a friends with benefits thing.”

You’re truly at a loss for words as the wheel inside your brain starts to spin and the more seconds pass, the faster it spins.

Amelia has been your best friend for years and whilst she’s had your back unconditionally for what seems like forever now, she’s also always been honest with you. Whether it was you making a stupid mistake that you were too stubborn to admit fault to, an outfit that just didn’t look good, pushing you to say sorry when you had to or you pining over someone who didn’t deserve you at all. She’s always been the one to say it like it was and kindly enough to have you snap out of so many trances.

Never have you ever gotten angry at her, because you’ve learned that she always wants the best for you and even when the truth hurts, at the end of the day you realised she was right and she was watching out for you.

So the first thing you feel deep in your chest isn’t anger, it’s just that pinch of hurt when you know someone says what you don’t want to hear but it’s not something that’s necessarily wrong. But that doesn’t make it any less painful to hear.

“I'm not saying stop,” She continues in slight panic at the change in your facial expression, “I can see how happy he makes you and how happy you seem to make him. And I don’t think he would have had you around for a full week if he was just going to fuck and dump you, but maybe when you go back you could get some clarity on it? Ask him about it maybe? Because the last thing I want is for him to hurt you.”

Her suggestions are thrown in the air as a way to alleviate the growing tension around you now, hanging over you like a dark cloud that tells you it’s about to storm. But even seeing her soft awkward grin as she finishes her thoughts, you can’t seem to properly muster any logical sentences.

Your words get tangled on the tip of your tongue and you stutter for a few seconds before you let out a loud sigh and chuckle meekly, slightly shaking your head in disbelief, “Thanks Ames.”

Amelia winces at your response and the words leave her before you can continue saying anything else, “I don’t want you to hate me for saying it, Y/N/N.”

You know she doesn’t mean it like that so you quickly reassure her that your reaction doesn’t mean that you hate her for saying it, “I don’t. I-,”

Inhaling deeply through your nose before you can give her a deeper insight into what’s been going on between the singer and you. “He’s told me things that I don’t think you’d tell a fuck buddy. Things about his past that he got upset about. I don’t think you cry to your fuck buddies Ames.”

It’s not that you mind her being worried about you, but it wasn’t as if Matty is all you’ve been going on about today. It wasn’t like your world has just stopped and it now solely focuses on him, because it really doesn’t. You’ve maybe mentioned the singer a handful of times today, most of the time telling her that he said hello to her or that he hoped that the both of you were having a nice time.

Nodding slowly, she takes in what you're saying but she recoils into herself a bit when you continue to say, “And I'm not stupid, I'm not getting my hopes up for anything more just yet, I just want to enjoy what it is for now.”

Because Amelia of all people knows that you haven't had anything like this in a long time. You’ve been on your own for probably too long and you feel like some of the joy from the past week has just been invalidated when you weren’t even trying to make it into something it wasn’t.

“I understand. But it’s worth having the conversation.” Amelia explains herself again and you nod taking in every word she says, “I don’t want you to be a placeholder for him. I don’t want you to be someone who’s willing to fuck him and then he fucks you off after the London dates on his tour.”

That has you sighing again, that last half feeling like a gut punch. But you somehow manage to nod, “I know, and I do mean the thank you I said, but I don’t wanna be thinking about that whilst we’re out here okay?”

You were just having such a lovely moment of peace and appreciation for everything turning out better than you could’ve ever expected and now all you can taste is bitterness coating the back of your throat. “It’s not really something you can ask over the phone. And I want this to be a good experience. I don’t wanna be worrying about Matty whilst I’m out here.”

You mean that and even though you have been texting him here and there throughout the day, you’ve made sure to be mindful and enjoy every second you can with your best friend in this amazing opportunity you’ve got.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t really know when to talk to you about it.” Her eyes show you just how much she didn’t mean to upset you, and they soften when she looks at you still sporting a blank face.

And despite knowing that, it unfortunately doesn’t make that sinking feeling in your chest go away. You feel like the mere mention of it has cracked open a can of worms that can’t be sealed again. The seeds of doubt that you’ve been ignoring to spare yourself the worry are now fixed and prominent. It all feels a little too much when you just wanted to have some fun with a man you’ve always found horrendously attractive.

“I’m only a week into it all Ames.” You remind her and then you also refresh her memories of her and a certain rapper by saying, “I at least gave you a good few weeks with Harry before I told you to watch out.”

She nods remembering then how that had gone, “And whilst I love you for that, I know that you’ve liked Matty for a lot longer than I liked him. A year to a decade… I just don’t want him to hurt you or ruin his music for you.”

She’s so serious it half makes you want to laugh, your best friend regarding the value of the band’s music as much as your heart being mistreated is the tiniest bit amusing to you.

“It won’t. Nothing could ruin his music for me. Not even him.” You promise, staring right into her eyes and then you plead, “I understand but for now I just want it out of my mind please. I appreciate you but please don’t bring this back up whilst we’re here. I want your support back.”

Reaching out for her hand, she meets you in the middle intertwining your fingers and then giving you a firm squeeze. A silent love you, one that you reciprocate by squeezing her hand back.

“Okay. You’ve got it. I am really really happy you’re happy, you know?” Her lips curl up in a cute shy smile, seeing as the matter is still a bit tender but trying to help you relax again.

Not that you can find it in yourself to do it after that but you try to match her smile, failing apparently because you see Amelia’s face falling as she watches you say, “I know.”

So Amelia is soon shuffling closer to you, cradling your head with her hand so you can cuddle against her chest. She leaves a kiss atop of your head and you hum softly as a thank you, which you truly mean - she’s the one person you know you wouldn’t be able to live without and her opinions are not ones you wave off or take lightly.

However, it feels like the night just turned sour, because 5 minutes ago if your best friend cuddled you like she is doing now, you would be entirely content with it. Now, all you want to do is disappear off into your own room and release the sob that’s causing the ball in your throat.

You can’t do that though, because the last thing you need is to let your best friend see that she’s upset you. The first reason being is that you don’t want to make her feel guilty for upsetting you when she’s got your best interests at heart, but mostly because you don’t want her to think that your tears are proof of her being correct. So you hold it in, not letting her think she’s affected you at all.

Sleep has escaped you now entirely, the few minutes of her cuddling you are not peaceful like she probably intended. Instead, you’ve started to overthink what she’s just said, her words repeating in your head like a broken record. It makes your throat tighten even more despite knowing she’s right, but you hate the sour taste in your mouth.

There’s only so long you can last before you get up and go to your room under the false pretence that you’re really tired. Amelia hugs you one more time and again you pretend like you’re fine, but your best friend knows you well enough and can see you’re faking. She regrets bringing it up before the awards, thinking it’s not fair to have added that to your plate along with the stress you’re both feeling.

All she can do so she doesn’t bring it up again is grab your hand and remind you that she loves you. Something which you say back to her and she’s beyond grateful you said it back.

Finding yourself back in bed, now in your hotel room, unfortunately your mind goes back to your conversation and begins replaying every word she’s said.

Like a broken record, spinning over and over, until you lose track of time and when your phone pings from where it’s charging on top of the nightstand, you softly gasp at it being 7pm when the last time you saw the time it was 4pm and you and Amelia were complaining about jetlag betraying you and making you look like even worse grandmas that you already were.

When you get your phone, you see Matty’s messages flash on the screen. Another one coming through as you unlock your phone.

How’s jetlag treating you baby? x is the first one he’s sent, followed by, You better not be asleep yet cos I will laugh if you are, you gilf x

You giggle to yourself at the use of the term, thinking back to how the term came to be used for you and how insane it is that the week of holidays you spent texting and facetime feels so long ago now.

Deciding to be fully honest and give into the distraction from your thoughts, you type, It’s kicking my arse 🙁 and as soon that has sent, you send a second text that reads, How’d you even do it? Tour must be so exhausting x

You get used to it x reads the almost instant text he sends but then you’re waiting for what he’s gonna say next as the bubble appears and you’re watching the three dots flicker with anticipation.

A few seconds later it comes through and you’re giggling when you read, You learn to find how to keep yourself distracted more like, to forget you’re tired in the first place x

Cheekily, you ask, Is that code for something? x and to tease him a bit, you add, If so I have to add it to the list under ‘socialising’ as Ross gave us the meaning to that one x

A chesty laugh falls from your lips when his next text comes through and it plainly says, Let’s actually ban the topic of Ross from conversation x

And it’s impossible for you to hold back from using that to provoke him a bit, Ooo is someone jealous? x

His answer isn’t quite what you expected and it earns a gasp out of you when you read he’s said, You, still, of that kiss I gave him x and the memory of you posting that to your instagram comes to bite you on the arse.

The only thing you can think of replying is with a sarcastic, You think you’re funny x

Which he refutes effortlessly with, I know I’m fucking hilarious baby x

Biting your lip and feeling your cheeks heat up, your fingers type an earnest confession that you hope he reciprocates, I miss you xx

But your blood goes cold when his response comes through and it’s just, Oh you miss me? Yeah well, you haven’t had anyone to fuck you good all week so I was expecting that x

Reading that text sinks your heart, and it shouldn’t because you know in any other moment you would’ve found it hilarious and chatted back almost automatically but after having Amelia’s words engraved in the walls of your brain after replaying them so much, you’re left with the awful feeling that she might be right.

You try not to cry when you’re unable to stop yourself from overthinking. Oh you miss me? Yeah well, you haven’t had anyone to fuck you good all week so I was expecting that x. You had just said you missed him and that being the response leaves you gutted.

What if that’s actually all that it is for him? What if everything had just been to ease you into bed with him and now that he had you in the palm of his hand, he was reaching out to you to get some sort of release?

After all it was 3am for him, which other reason would there be for him to be texting this late when he should’ve been tired enough to be out the second he got in his bunk. The ghost of the conversation about his nightmares pokes at your racing mind and whilst your logical side is screaming at you about that being a reason for his texts this late in the evening, you’re far too gone to even try and change your mind.

You’re so stupid. And all you want to do is cry into your pillow.

But you still have got makeup on and, if it was any other day, you’d let the sadness push you to fall asleep with it on but tomorrow you start prepping for the bloody Golden Globes. Rehearsals start early in the morning, and the last thing you want the day after when you’re on the red carpet is a surprise spot appearing on your skin when you’re about to be photographed left, right and centre.

Your feet lazily take you up to the bathroom and you’re languidly getting a makeup wipe when your ringtone startles you. You’re slightly faster in getting your phone because the noise is threatening to push you further into getting a headache.

And then you see it, Matty on the screen, wanting to facetime you and there’s that sinking feeling getting heavier inside you. You know you’ve left him on read, and it’s now that you realise that was half an hour ago and you feel bad.

You consider not answering, blaming it on falling asleep but deep inside you want some sort of comfort, a sign of an answer that maybe Amelia is wrong - that maybe this time she has misread the situation.

So you swipe on your screen as you go back to the bathroom, taking the makeup off your face and looking at your reflection in the mirror rather than at him on your phone.

“Hi baby.” Matty says with a smile, you can catch it faintly from the way the brightness of his screen is lighting up his face.

“Hi.” You reply sheepishly, and that tone is enough for him to know something’s not right.

“What’s wrong?” He asks with a pout, then he backtracks trying to think of what’s gotten you upset and he quickly adds, “You know I was joking right?” He’s silently hoping that isn’t it though, the last thing he wanted was to get you upset but he knows how sometimes jokes don’t land right through text.

You panic as though he’s just been able to read your mind and your mouth is faster than you spilling something else out so he doesn’t think it is exactly that which has you like this. Well that and Amelia’s worries. So putting the now used makeup wipe down by the sink, you shake your head.

“It’s not-” You try to deny but everything is sitting heavy on your chest and your eyes begin to well up on their own accord.

You still can’t look at your phone and you think you’re even more pathetic about letting this get to you. And you know it’s only affecting you so much because you’ve been awake well over 24 hours to try and get your body clock in order for tomorrow, but it’s completely taken away your composure. So you just end up blaming everything on that.

“I- I’m so nervous and overwhelmed, and this jetlag is actually making me want to fucking cry.” At the end you actually let out a pathetic little sob which breaks his heart, you’re holding onto the marble top where the sink is and hang your head so your hair covers your face while you silently cry.

“Oh no babyyy,” You hear him say through the phone, perhaps a bit louder than he should in a bus filled with his sleeping bandmates, “You should’ve said you were upset, I wouldn’t have been an absolute dick then.”

You shake your head and sniffle but when you’re about to put your head up to look at him on the screen, another cry bursts through you and you let your head fall down once more.

“Baby don’t cry, I’m sorry.” His heart hurts in his chest, “Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

He could feel something was wrong as soon as his message went from sent to read and there was no sign of the three dots. Somehow he just knew and the sinking feeling in his stomach made him FaceTime you, and now he's beyond thankful he did.

“No,” You sniffle loudly and force yourself to look up.

Your throat is so choked up, it’s difficult to get anything out at all. You have to look away from him for a second and you cover your mouth with your fist for a few seconds.

Matty’s heart hurts seeing the shine of your eyes as they well up again, and he wants to say something but you look like you need to work through it for a second so he waits until you’ve taken a few deep breaths and look back at him. “Can you podcast me baby… Please?” You just about get out.

You wipe your tears quickly and you look at him, giving him a soft smile and getting a new wipe to continue taking your makeup off. After swallowing the lump in your throat, you say, “Tell me how the show was tonight.”

Matty makes sure to be the most dramatic to get a smile out of you, even a laugh if he’s lucky enough, “Well obviously brilliant ‘cause it’s us.” He rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue, shaking his head a bit and his curls bounce at the movement.

Your short snort makes him grin harder, and you reply with a blunt, “Right.” as if you don’t believe that statement.

He lets his jaw fall like he’s deeply offended and then points an accusing finger at you as he calls you out by saying, “Don’t act like you don’t agree baby, you’ve been here for almost a decade and that means something.”

You finish removing your makeup then, so you raise your hands up to feign innocence, “I was agreeing.”

The curly headed brunette narrows his eyes at you and keeps quiet for a mere few seconds, acting like he’s debating whether he believes you or not, until he decides, “Good, because I also wore leather tonight in your honour.”

A little smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, “Ooooo” you mutter teasingly while you try to picture in your head what exactly he’s worn tonight. You curse yourself for being in your head so much and forgetting to check twitter for your daily dose of tour content.

Before you can say anything else, though, he adds, “Because I miss you. A lot.” and you didn’t know how much you wanted to hear that until then.

It’s like the simple reassurance that he indeed does miss you too, quiets down the storm in your head. You can breathe a little better, all the while you can also feel your heart swell up inside your chest and you can’t not reciprocate the feeling, “Miss you too.”

The singer pouts at the fact that he has to tell you this through the phone and can’t give you a cuddle so he gets an idea that makes him inquire, “Where’s Amelia? I want her to hug you for me.”

That question shouldn’t be something to bring up suspicion but Matty doesn’t miss the way your face falls at the mention of your best friend and right then he gets this gut feeling that maybe something happened between you two that also has you upset.

Somehow, your awkward, “Erm, she’s in her room.” gives it away even more and though he wants nothing more than to ask you about it, he’d rather not have you upset and crying again when he knows you can be laughing and smiling when talking about something else.

So taking a bit of a pause, he thinks and ends up asking you, “Have you gone to see the Hollywood sign yet?”

You go off frame as you go to throw the makeup wipes to the bin and then splash your face with some water to wash your face. “Yes, a fucking awful hike but t’was pretty.” Is what you reply, remembering just how much you were sweating earlier but also shivering a bit at the stark contrast when you went back to the car.

Matty watches as you pour something in the palm of your hand and rub it together between your hands before rubbing it on your face until it becomes foamy. “It isn’t hot though is it?” It’s just the second week of January and he has a faint memory of being in the west coast during that time of the year and it not being hot at all, “At least you weren’t fucking cooking while going up there.”

You quickly wash the cleanser off and whilst you’re patting your face dry, you continue giving him the details, “Wind was cold but the sun was out so we were cooking in our jackets. The desert weather is confusing.”

“More confusing than ours?” His tone is almost teasing, making you smile a bit to yourself under his gaze.

“A bit yeah.” You nod, opening your little moisturiser tub and getting some to apply onto your face.

The second you dot it around your face and neck, he’s asking, “Is that the cream I like you’re putting on?”

The massive grin that appears on your face is impossible to hold back, not when the memories of you having to do the same you’re doing to yourself on him the whole past week when he watched you through the mirror getting ready for bed.

“Yeah. You’ve made me go through half my bottle already though, you little shit.” In slow soft motions, you’re rubbing it on your skin and you relish in the cooling feeling of the gel like cream on your face.

He clicks his tongue like that’s not even an issue, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll get you more when you come back.”

Humming, you warn him, “I’ll remind you of that.”

“Yeah ‘cause I’m in actual need to relax like when you put all those things on my face.” Matty admits and it makes you want to giggle.

A snort escapes your lips, “You mean when I do your skin care?”

“Mhm, I love it.”

Rolling your eyes, you call him out, “I know you do, you’re so needy.”

But he then reminds you, “I told you I was.” and you two share loopy grins through the screen as you see the memories of your first date showing in the forefront of your minds.

“That you did.” You nod, agreeing with him and tapping some eye cream over your eye bags. Covering your mouth when you yawn, you look at the time and ask him with a frown, “Isn’t it almost 4am for you?”

Matty pauses for a second, glancing up to see the time in the corner of his phone screen and is rather surprised, “Oh yeah, I guess so.” And trying to get you laughing again, he continues with, “Quick maths baby, that’s impressive.”

But the lack of sleep he’s currently having has you worried enough to inquire, “Is everything alright?” You don’t want to explicitly ask if he’s gotten any nightmares, especially since he’s sleeping in a moving vehicle but from the look in his eyes, you know he knows exactly what you mean by that.

His chest tightens at how cute you are so he calms your worries by explaining, “Yes, nothing’s wrong, just a bit of insomnia ‘cause I’m still feeling the energy from the gig.”

“Okay, if you say so.” Your trust that he’d tell you if he was having nightmares has faltered slightly after what was said earlier. You feel so stupid being hung up on it, but just the thought of opening up to each other only being so you could get something physical out of each other makes you start to spiral again.

You’re cut short, not even being able to lose it again when he continues saying, “Wish I could have you here though, I wanna cuddle you so badly.”

A bit apprehensive, you sigh, “Me too.” but then you can’t keep from being honest with him, “I’m too nervous about tomorrow, and that’s only rehearsals, I don’t know if I’m even gonna be able to sleep tomorrow night.”

“Baby you’re gonna do amazing.” He assures you with sweet conviction, “You and Amelia. You always do.”

Your insides flood with warmth and you try to ignore it so he can’t catch how flustered you are by the compliment. “You’re being nice.”

“No, I mean it. You learned all that information about everyone attending so easily, I don’t think I’ve known more about the current film and TV culture than now after you’ve told me everything you know when you were practising.”

You’re chuckling then, leave it to him to not keep up to date to the most current media to be consumed. Getting your phone and exiting the bathroom after turning off the lights, you leave your phone on the floor by your case while you look for your pyjamas, “You’re an old man. Absolute grandpa.” You rub it in like it’s gonna offend him but you should’ve expected the opposite.

“And you’re my gilf, remember?” You hear the smirk before you can see it, but you don’t give him the pleasure of a reply as you just start stripping down to your underwear and put on your cute pyjama set that consists of a button up shirt and some matching shorts.

“Those pyjamas are cute.” Matty compliments, catching the chicken nuggets and the little ketchup packets all over them.

“Right!” You reply all excited, taking the moment to appreciate the clothes again, “Our manager gave them to us for Christmas, has my name right here.” You show him the embroidered Y/N that rests over your left breast with a cute smile on your face.

He smiles right back, “That’s cute. You look better in my clothes though.” He quips back, and you’re about to taunt him by arguing the pyjamas are better than his shirts when he just sighs longingly and says, “You’re so stunning baby.”

You’d just set up your phone against the lamp on the nightstand so you can talk to him as you get in bed but you freeze in your spot, sitting on the edge of the bed, lips pressing together so a big smile doesn’t break on your face.

“Stop,” You warn and then cup your cheeks with your cold hands, “You’re making me flustered.”

Matty knows you’re flustered so he grins proudly at you and admits, “I know, that’s what I’m aiming for.”

“Well you’re not allowed.” You chat back like that’s enough of an argument against him.

Trying not to giggle, he asks, “Why?”

“Because no.” You reply through your teeth, avoiding much eye contact because you know that’ll get you even worse and you don’t need that now.

“Oh but why,” His grin is huge, “Look at that smile!”

He’s impossible not to react to, so you hide behind your hands and whine, “You’re so annoying.” a bit louder than you anticipated.

“Say that again.” He suggests with a smirk on his face, once again, one that you can hear before you see it.

Your hands fall from your face, your smile stuck on your face even when you try to act menacing as you narrow your eyes and says a quick, “Fuck you.”

You can never win, not when he chuckles and quips back with, “You wish you were.” and all you can do is shriek and tell him he’s insufferable again.

Both of you giggle until a comfortable silence falls between you and you end up silently smiling at one another. That is until you rub your eyes a little, getting tired once again, but Matty just needs to know, so he asks softly, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You nod, giving him a small smile, “Everythings just-” You pause for a second not wanting to get emotional again, so you release a long breath and continue, “A lot.”

Matty sees your eyes get a little glossy again, but not nearly as fast as last time. So he quickly intervenes and tries to make you laugh.

“I can’t believe the first time you’re upset in front of me is when I'm over five thousand miles away from you.” Matty says loudly and dramatically, and he moves the camera closer so he can tell you off. “You’re not allowed to do that in future. If you’re upset you have to just come and cuddle me, yeah? No messing about, I just hug you until you start to feel better okay, like you did for me.”

Your chest aches at the mere thought. That is all you want right now. You don’t know how he could get any cuter.

Matty’s smile is huge when he promises, “I’ll do whatever you need.”

All you want to do is give him a hug, so you just curl up in bed and hug your pillow and prop him up against the lamp on the bedside table so you can still talk. Once you’re settled and you’re smiling at him, you say, “Should have brought my blanket with me so I can pretend I’ve got you cuddling me.”

Matty chuckles at that, loving seeing the smile on your face. He doesn’t hesitate to say, “If I wasn’t on tour I would have flown out with you.”

You almost snort at that despite the fact you know he’s being genuine and serious, you just elect to tease him, “Such a flirt with those big gestures of yours.”

“Well, you know me.” Matty chuckles, “I don’t do half-hearted.”

After that you make him go to his bunk and at least try to get some sleep. You end up whispering to each other as you watch the other slowly fall asleep. Thankfully you see Matty dose off first so there’s a content smile on your face as your eyes slowly close and you let sleep take you.

~*~*~*~*~*~

You wake up the next morning with a smile on your face. One entirely brought by your conversation with Matty having settled down your doubts, one that lasted all throughout the time you were getting ready to leave for rehearsals, breakfast and on the way to the venue.

When you hit the red carpet, nerves overcame you but joy filled every corner of your body along with the intense impostor syndrome that you were starting to get acquainted with. It all was eliciting a massive smile from you which hurt your cheekbones, you just couldn’t quite believe you were there. And Amelia was feeling just the same.

Rehearsals are almost done, you and Amelia had been there for hours by then and it was mental to see the various interviewers there with their respective crews rehearsing for the very next day. Your crew tells you you’re almost done, only having to go over the last bit which was basically the send off once you’d wrap your section up the next day, and after that you were good to go back to the hotel.

But before you can finish that up, the crew give you a five minute break whilst they figure out some things behind the scenes.

Once you two finally have a moment to finally breathe, that’s when your best friend comes up to you and brings back the chat you’d rather keep buried.

“Y/N/N, I’m sorry,” Amelia starts saying, lowering her microphone and cue cards until they’re pressed beside her thigh and the grin she had on her face is replaced by her furrowed brows and lips pressed together in sorrow when looking back, “About last night, I shouldn’t have said what I said. I know better than that and there’s only so much I know about what you have with Matty, and even though it seems-”

“Ames.” You cut her off before she can say more because your heart was already sinking and you felt yourself start going cold since you had no idea what to expect now. “Don’t. I know what you meant last night and I appreciate your concern, you know I do, but please let’s not do this right now.”

“But-,” Amelia tried to get her words out again but you wouldn’t budge.

“Not here Ames.” You pleaded once more, the last thing you wanted was to get upset in the middle of rehearsals and in front of the crew. Dryly adding, “We can do this back at the hotel, if you insist on continuing the conversation.”

Thankfully Amelia accepts your bargain, not wanting to have you upset again at the venue, so she just presses her lips together and nods.

“Right.” She agrees and coming closer to you, she throws her arm around your shoulder and hugs you into her side, “Love you, Y/N/N.”

You smile back, thankful for her understanding, leaning into her and reciprocating the feeling, “Love you too, Ames.”

After that, you had used the few minutes left of your rest to openly marvel about the whole thing to each other, pinching each other’s arms at the same time and exploding in giggles when you realised you really weren’t dreaming.

The rest of the rehearsal went smoothly and once you wrapped up, the crew congratulated you on a brilliant rehearsal and let you go.

As soon as you get to the hotel, you order room service and do a repeat of the previous night, watching a film as you eat but this time the film is completely forgotten because once you remember just how big the ceremony is, you two frantically look for you flash cards with information so you can go over it all to ensure you don’t fuck up the next day.

Thankfully, that had been why you both forgot to speak about your situation with Matty. So by the time you’re doing your skin care and getting ready to head to bed, texting Matty until he stopped replying because he definitely fell asleep, you have a massive grin on your face and your anticipation for the following day is doing nothing but bubble up your chest and make your stomach flutter.

~*~*~*~

The next morning was even more nerve-racking. You had taken longer having breakfast because the nerves weren’t helping with your ability to swallow your food without feeling like it could come right back up the next second.

But when your team got to the hotel and everyone was gathered in Amelia’s room to do a little speech of encouragement and congratulate everyone for such a big achievement, you and Amelia settled a bit.

You’re just coming out of taking a shower, being ushered by your manager who had just come back from hurrying Amelia up since she had taken a long time in the shower too, when you hear your phone ringing with what you know it’s a facetime call.

And it’s not hard to guess who it is.

The smirk on your manager’s face is enough for you to know you guessed right and when she hands you your phone, you answer Matty’s call with a bright smile.

“Hiya baby.” He greets loudly, making everyone in the room turn to look at you with a teasing smirk.

That detail being unbeknownst to him has him thinking that you’re blushing over his mere use of the pet name so he playfully calls you out by saying, “Blushing already? I haven’t even said anything yet, baby.”

Before he can even think of opening his mouth again, you’re calling out loud, “Right, someone get me my airpods please.”

Once he heard that, he realised what had happened and the situation only elicited a loud cackle from him. He found out after New Years that he enjoyed a lot when you got flustered at the things he’d say in public, your bright red cheeks making you seem all innocent as if you wouldn’t love to hear the things he said in private, as if you wouldn’t reply with something even worse.

It gets worse for you when he cheekily adds, “Please do get her AirPods, things are about to get raunchy.”

“Shut up!” You hiss through your teeth, making everyone in the room laugh at your embarrassed state. And when your stylist finally finds your airpods inside your bag and hands them to you, you thank her almost impatiently.

Clearing your throat, you put your airpods in your ears and only then is that you greet him back, “Hello, you menace.”

“Oh, please, you love me.” He quips back, rolling his eyes as he brushes his hair back and you’re so beyond happy to see his curls free of any product.

Still, you don’t let it show as you sigh and give him a meek, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” in response.

“You’re in denial baby,” He tuts, clicking his tongue as he shakes his head but he doesn’t let you say anything back because then he lets his sweet smile back on his face and he genuinely asks, “How’s your morning going?”

“I’m shitting bricks.” You admit quite honestly, stifling a laugh by biting your bottom lip.

Matty actually lets his amusement show with another loud string of giggles, the sound hitting your ears warm you up inside and has your chest feeling tight from how much you miss him.

“You’re gonna do amazing, baby. Nothing to be nervous about.”

His tone is so nonchalant, it has you scoffing. You know it is because he has faith in you and how good you are at your job, but you decide joking about it rather than accepting the compliment will help you a bit more.

So you reply with, “Of course you’d say that, nepo baby. That’s your crowd.”

“Oi!” He calls out by pointing a finger at you through the screen but eventually lets his expression change from scornful to smug, “You’re just jealous.”

You’re so glad your makeup artist decides to come up to you and start your skin prep then because, as she delicately rubs a moisturiser on your skin, you can look even more unbothered when you reply, “Sure I am.”

You fall silent as you’re getting pampered, your eyes closing involuntarily at the soft touches on your face, but Matty stays silent too, just fully admiring the view of your pretty and relaxed face.

He breaks the silence when a sweet, “Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” falls from his lips, making a big grin tug at the corner of your lips and you let your eyes open again to see your screen, only to find him staring at you with the most adoring look on his face.

“Thank you baby.” You reply wholeheartedly, making his heart rate stutter when you use the pet name on him.

Rather impatiently, he asks right away, “Can I see your dress yet?”

“Not yet.” You had purposely kept that to yourself, fully wanting his anticipation for it to build up for as long as it could. “Patience is a virtue.”

“It’s overrated.” Matty counters your words with his eyebrows raised and a look of defiance as if he’s challenging you to show him the dress. But you shake your head and all he does is sigh and change his question to, “Am I getting pictures?”

Yet, you aren’t giving in that easily, not when you can taunt him a bit more. “If I’m feeling generous…”

Something inside him ignites and how he wishes he could have you next to him in that very moment so he could kiss you until you break. “You better.”

“Or what?” You push further, biting your bottom lip withholding a smirk that wants to break on your face.

But it seems the singer has got no taste for explicitness any more, for he just shakes his head at you for being trouble and settles for saying, “You’ll see when you come back.”

You let your voice drop a little, mischief making your eyes gleam as you look at him, “Is that a threat or a promise?”

Matty smirks at your advances and lets you have this moment, winking at you when he says, “Whichever you want it to be, baby.” That spark you ignite within him comes alive and makes him desperate to have you back, so he asks somewhat breathlessly, “When’s your flight leaving?”

You have a think about your tight schedule for the day and recall, “10pm tonight so I should be at Heathrow by 5pm tomorrow.”

That sounds like the most amazing news to him and he shows you a massive grin when he realises you’re arriving, “Right after soundcheck…” meaning he can go get you.

You’re only teasing when you say, “Are you coming to pick me up?” Silently wishing he does though, because if there’s anything you’re dying to do once you get back home is hugging him again.

“‘Course I am, baby.” He clicks his tongue like he can’t believe you’re asking him about that, “D’you really think I won’t want you beside me the second we’re in the same city?”

You have to press your lips together not to show just how fucking happy his words make you, you cheeks heating up slightly and a squeaky, “Aren’t you cute!” escapes your lips.

But Matty seems too smug when he hears that and agrees with a quick, “I know, I know.”

So you snort to yourself and playfully roll your eyes, “It’s gonna be an issue with everything getting to your head.”

“Is it? Thought you loved it. It’s always been me, you wouldn’t be here now if you didn’t love it.” He loves calling you out on how long you’ve been a fan when you try to act like he’s being annoying, because there’s really nothing you can argue back with.

With a sigh, you state, “See, I’m not answering that in the slightest because you’ll find a way to have it feed your ego.”

Playing with you, he scoffs and complains, “People will hear you and think I’m a narcissist.”

His faux offended state makes you giggled, “Where did all your self awareness go? You are one.”

“Am I?” His curls bounce in his head when he looks up and to the sides as if he’s thinking about it and somehow comes to the conclusion that, “Sometimes it’s a compliment you know.”

You roll your eyes again and chat back by calling him, “Okay Mr. Big Head.” but you’re so happy on the inside that you’ve got him like this on the phone again. It feels just like the first week of the year and all those times you’ve texted before. Everything Amelia said two days before has been swept right out of your brain and you’re so fucking grateful.

You’re brought back to reality when you hear him cheekily say, “You’ve never once complained about my big head.” And with an even more suggestive tone, he adds, “Think you actually quite enjoy it, baby.”

Jaw dropped, you gasp and whisper-shout, “Shush!” at him.

Which elicits uncontrollable giggles from him that have you almost breaking and laughing along with him, “What?!” He says aloud like he’s not just said what he has said, “You’ve got your airpods in!”

And even though he’s right, you don’t let him be and scorn him, “Still!”

“Oh come on baby,” He calls your bluff act out,  “I know you’re dying to say something back to that. I can see it in your face.”

Before you can even think of a response, you’re having two gold patches pressed over your under eyes as another step on your skin prep and Matty is suddenly envious of the pampering.

He also is reminiscing of you doing his skin care and he misses your touch on his skin, however innocent it could be. Like a little kid asking for a new toy, he gasps and demands, “I want those!”

And you have his jaw falling agape when you glance at him and nod, “You need them. Look at those eyebags.”

He’s fully offended, his jaw fallen and eyes empty as he can’t believe you’ve just said that, and the visual makes you laugh so hard that your patches are falling off your face so you cackles turn into a noise of subtle panic which has your makeup artist turning and scorn you for not staying still.

“S’not my fault! He’s making me laugh!” You excused yourself in between chuckles and Matty laughed even harder in your ear, making your chuckles turn into cackles again and the patches to fall down again.

You manage to catch one of the patches on the palm of your free hand, the other one hitting your thigh which was covered by your white robe.

And once again you get scorned, for which you pout trying to put the blame on Matty. That somehow ends with you being convinced to put him on speaker and you swear you have never had a funnier day getting ready for a massive event in your life.

The whole time, everyone has been laughing at Matty’s and your antics, multiple times your makeup artist has had to stop herself from starting the next step in your eye makeup because of how hard she was laughing and she was trying not to fuck up.

Eventually, when you’re miraculously ready to go and they’re waiting for you to head downstairs to leave for the red carpet, you have to say goodbye to your curly headed boy who wishes you the best of luck and admits out loud just how excited he is to have you back beside him.

You smile so hard looking at your phone and saying you feel just the same, blowing him a kiss and giving him a quick wave you hang up and when you lift your head up is that you realise the whole thing has been recorded.

“Oh right, we were filming a get ready with me.” You bite your bottom lip as your cheeks heat up and you pray at least Amelia got proper footage because you were excited to edit and post that as soon as you could.

Your manager laughs, handing you the camera so you can film yourself walking out but she shrugs, “T’was cute.”

You’re so glad you’re quickly ushered out of your room, your manager quickly following behind and there you meet Amelia to take pictures in the hallway.

That is when your nerves start hitting again, making your hands shake as you hold each other and pose for the camera. You both are mumbling pure gibberish, just trying to let it all out, doing a little Sharpay Evans looking at each other and mentally preparing yourselves for what is going to be a wonderful evening.

~*~*~*~

That red carpet had been an absolute dream.

You had managed to do the Wednesday dance with henry Winkler, have Guillermo del Toro rub your lucky egg, ask Anya Taylor-Joy and Daisy Edgar Jones for dating advice, find out Letitia Wright’s favourite tube line, meet Paul Dano, and witness Andrew flirting with Amelia like they were the only ones in the room.

Both of you are buzzing with energy by the time the carpet starts emptying out, everyone going inside the venue for it gets closer to the ceremony starting time, and you get even more of a rush when you remember this means you’re closer to setting off for the airport so you can go back to London.

You’re practically counting down the minutes when security starts letting the people into the area to start cleaning up, your gaze going over every member of the crew looking for a sign of them finally calling it up as wrapped, and this all doesn’t go unnoticed by your best friend.

Amelia knows exactly why you’re so happy and it warms her heart. After experiencing this together, seeing you doing good in other areas of your life is just what she wants but there’s that nagging feeling in the back of her head that tells her she needs to let her thoughts out before it’s too late and the damage is done.

Now, she is praying that not a single thing goes wrong and that this is where everything starts making sense for you, but she’d hate it if she let you go without advising you to be careful one last time.

So she waits a little, after you’re both congratulated and thanked by the crew for doing such a great job, so when you’re off with your manager and waiting to get picked up, Amelia grabs you by your hand and makes you turn to her.

“Y/N,” She starts with a tone of her voice that has you just knowing exactly what this is so you clearly tense up in front of her. “We didn’t really have the time to continue speaking about it yesterday but I wanted to tell you just before you leave: please be careful.”

Before you are even able to tell her that you know, she continues with a worried face, “I know this is going good for you, and god do I really want this to work out for you but please, talk about it with him. Don’t let it pass any longer because that’ll only make it worse if something happens.”

Your brows furrow and you purse your lips trying to fight the upsetting feeling rising up your throat. You haven’t got a clue about what to say back, your thoughts now going back to your situation and turning everything to look for bad things about it and you hate that you do.

Just because you don’t want to show her how much her words have affected you again, you nod and squeeze her hand as a silent thank you, “I know and I will.” You say the calmest you can and just so she doesn’t get the chance to ask about it, you hug her and press a kiss on her cheek before saying, “I’ll text you when I land.”

The “Alright.” she gives you as a response is faint as it reaches your ears in between the loud noise of the city, and you’re so grateful that the cab taking you arrives right as you are handed your suitcase, your bag and another bag with clothes for you to change into in the backseat of the car.

You turn back and wave Amelia goodbye, feeling your heart get heavier when you see her face and all you can hear is her words on an excruciating loop that feels like daggers to your chest.

Once you get your case in the boot of the car and you go inside it rather hastily, you change into a pair of jeans and a shirt, throwing your precious Drive Like I Do hoodie on top and putting your gown inside the bag it had come in, your manager helping you delicately store it inside it and promising to give it back to your stylist once she gets back to the hotel after dropping you off at the airport.

You knew you were going to cut it really close with how much of a short time you had between leaving the red carpet and going to the airport, so you’re finally breathing in relief when you get to your gate only ten minutes before you start boarding.

But once your mind is free from the stress of making it in time to catch your flight, all you can seem to focus on is every word that Amelia has said about you and Matty.

And unfortunately, you overthink every sentence she uttered for the first few hours of your flight. Fully giving into your insecurities has you spiralling so much that you end up falling asleep for a max of 3 hours, only waking up when the flight attendant gently taps your shoulder to ask you which meal they had for breakfast you’d like to choose.

And after that you just can’t go back to sleep. You’re left wondering which is the best way to bring the conversation up or if you even should, scared of completely ruining things by seeming too intense about it but also, deep down, wanting to know the answer yourself.

Sighing, you go on your camera roll and pray time goes faster as you edit your pictures and prepare drafts about the Golden Globes to post on your social media as soon as you land.

~*~*~*~

Getting off the plane and being back on home soil makes you feel so much better.

It’s like seeing the gloomy weather again and the cars having the steering wheels on the correct side engulf you in a hug and the familiarity of it all settles helps the weight on your chest feel a little lighter.

As soon as you landed you texted Matty telling him you just landed and that you’d be out as soon as possible. He replied not two minutes later telling you not to rush and that he would see you at the arrivals door.

God must be looking out for you when you get off the plane because you get through security without a hitch and your suitcase is one of the first 50 to come out. You’ve never been so excited to get off a plane and back home. Usually you’re mourning your holiday but now there’s nothing more that you want to do than to get to the O2 to see the gig you’ve been waiting months for.

Walking out into the room of people waiting to pick up their loved ones, and you think it would be difficult to spot Matty but he’s sticking out like a sore thumb, and you adore him for it. He’s standing there in his jeans and Chicken Shop Date hoodie with sunglasses on a white and green cap on his head.

But when he catches sight of you, he takes your breath away when he holds up a handmade sign with ‘Baby’ written on it with a small heart next to it. He’s grinning like you’re delivering him a birthday present, and you really hold yourself back from running towards him.

You walk straight towards him, and immediately you’re brought into quite possibly the best hug you’ve ever received.

“Hi Baby.” Matty whispers in your ear after he hugs you into him tightly.

You’re been held with such a strong hold that you think Matty must believe you’ll disappear if he lets you the tiniest bit loose. But you’re not complaining, you absolutely love it.

“Hi.” You whisper back, and you feel like you could cry.

You’re sure you’ve never been held so tightly and after everything going around your head over the last few days it feels so nice for it all to go quiet and you focus on him. Being back in his arms feels heavenly, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so content hugging someone, so much that it makes your eyes well up a little.

Your heart skips a beat when he tells you, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You say back, without any hesitation, but it comes out a little bit hoarse as the ball in your throat persists.

This makes Matty abandon his disguise though, he releases you from the hug, keeping close though, but he takes off his hat and sunglasses. Immediately his eyebrows are furrowed and he needs to make sure, “You okay?”

However, he can see that your eyes are a little glazed over. Not to mention you look really tired, but he still thinks you look just as gorgeous as you did last night, even if you are just in your jeans and an oversized Drive Like I Do hoodie.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just really jetlagged.” You nod, and Matty watches you, cupping your face as if he’s checking if you’re being honest or not. And you truly are so you smile, trying to convince him, “I’m fine, I promise.”

Matty thankfully believes you, and he gently strokes his thumb across your cheek as he tells you, “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Stop it,” You tell him, despite it really meaning a lot to hear. “I don’t want to get upset again.”

Matty chuckles at that but he looks straight into your eyes and repeats, “I really am though, you did amazing. I’m soproud of you.”

And you can’t stop yourself from leaning in to kiss him then, because you don’t have the words to express just how much that means to you without you breaking down. Jetlag messing with your sleep really has your emotions fucked, so you just pour everything you’re feeling into a kiss.

It feels like an age since your lips have been against his, and you certainly take your time to savour it now. It’s sweet, extremely sincere and the perfect way to round off your greeting back home. Matty can certainly feel you pouring your emotions into the kiss and he loves the way your arms loop around his neck to make sure he can’t escape from it.

Not that he wants to. He would die a happy man if he were to fall here and now. He has you back and that’s all he needs. He lets the kiss arrive at its natural ending and when you pull away the both of you are grinning like fools before Matty grabs your case and says, “Let’s go baby.”

You smile and follow him, not blaming him at all when he puts the cap and sunglasses back on because you understand that he doesn’t want to be recognised and mobbed when he has a show to get to. As soon as they are on he grabs your hand and you walk in step with each other as you head to his car.

It gives you a chance to take in his hat though and you’re sure it’s the Land Rover logo but with letters missing so it just says Lover. It makes you grin as it reminds you of one of your favourite songs and it turns out it's one of Matty’s too. What makes you giggle though is when you said you liked it because of that reason he took it off himself and put it on your head.

After that you thank Matty for coming to get you as you find his car and he assures you that it’s perfectly fine. And thankfully, the both of you make it back to London's best arena with plenty of time to spare.

Getting into the O2, Matty takes you straight to their green room where the rest of the band are and you greet them all with hugs and they congratulate you on last night's success. You thank them all and you love the hug that Charli gives you.

Here is where you meet Carly, and she’s just as wonderful as you expected her to be and really welcoming. And you really had to hold back your emotions when you were introduced to baby Hann by Uncle Matty. Seeing that man with a child is not something your brain can handle today so you were almost thankful when you were all interrupted by food being delivered.

It’s calm in there while you all eat, and you love that they are having a cheeky Nandos before they go out on stage. About half an hour later though, the room starts getting busier, people coming and going and you’re greeting a few new people you’ve not met before.

Matty has to leave the room for a few minutes, as he was called away by someone in the crew and he gave your thigh a quick squeeze before smiling, telling you he would be back soon. You’re left talking to Charli who is on the settee across from yours and you’re both giggling about how there’s definitely a connection between Amelia and Andrew Garfield before your attention is pulled back to the curly haired brunette.

“Hey baby?” Matty calls you from the door he’s just slipped back through.

You turn to look at him and smile, “Yeah?”

He looks all mischievous for some reason, as he’s grinning like a lunatic. But it makes sense when he explains, “I got you another date.”

“Okay…” You trail off, waiting for the grand reveal.

And to be perfectly honest, you’re expecting the fabulous Denise Welsh to walk through the door or the wonderful Tim Healy. But no.

Instead, Matty grins and pushes the door open all the way to reveal Taylor Swift standing in the doorway.

“Fuck off.” You gasp, your eyes instantly going wide and your hand comes up to almost shield your face. You don’t know why, but they do, and your now half shaking hands come up to cover your mouth as you watch Taylor walk further into the room giggling at your reaction. You bring your hands up to cover your whole face this time when the words slip from your lips again, “No, fuck off.”

At that, all you can do is let yourself fall into the back of the settee you’re on hoping it would swallow you whole. In your head, all that’s whirring around is, this isn't happening, this isn't real.

But it really is. And everyone in the room is laughing at how shocked you are. But it's George that chuckles, “I think you broke her, Matty.”

And he certainly has. The next thing you do is peek through your fingers to see she is still very much there now standing beside Matty, both of them grinning at you. But you tell the curly haired brunette, “You can’t just present Taylor Swift to me and expect me to be alright.”

Matty just laughs loudly before gesturing for you to, “Come here.”

And you do as you’re told. More adrenaline pumping through your system right now than you think the whole of last night.

Your hands are shaking a little, but nothing you clenching your fists can’t hide when you stop in front of Taylor and smile a shy, “Hi.”

Her grin is still bright, clearly used to absurd reactions like what you’ve just done. Her american accent rings out in her, “Hi.” and she smiles like you’ve not just made a massive tit of yourself.

“Y/N, Taylor.” Matty introduces you with a big grin looking from you to the singer, but then he goes on to say, “Taylor, this is Y/N, my…” But you watch his smile falter and he hesitates. A beat passes before he ends up saying, “Girlfriend.”

Hearing that should fill you with an insane amount of joy and happiness. But from the pause he did, it felt like it was almost bitter and he was reluctant to say the word out loud.

You’re aware that you havent talked about anything and that’s more than likely why he hesitated because you don’t just introduce someone to Taylor Swift as a fuck buddy. But that hesitation you saw brings back every single doubt that Amelia filled your mind with.

Swallowing that pill, you give your attention back to the popstar, not wanting a moment like this to be ruined at all by any relationship. You’re meeting Taylor fucking Swift, the last thing you need is to be worrying over a man.

You’re about to splurt out everything under the sun about how you’ve loved her music since you discovered her, and that she soundtracked your life before The 1975 took over. But you don’t get a chance to, instead you’re left shocked to your core.

“I love your dates, they are so damn funny.” Taylor grins, and you can see she genuinely means it.

This has you entirely gobsmacked though. You deadpan, “You know who I am?”

“Yes, of course I do.” Taylor nods with a toothy grin now, “I’ve seen so many of yours and Amelia’s dates, not to mention the golden globes last night, hello. You were amazing.”

You fully gasp, beyond yourself about being in her presence and her knowing who you are on top of that, “I can’t believe you know who I am.” You’re in complete disbelief, turning to glare at Matty for a second before your gaze is back on Taylor as if you looked away from her for too long, she’d disappear. “I’ve been listening to your music since I was sixteen, and you know who I am! What fucking world am I living in?”

Taylor’s eyebrows raise and her face shows amusement like this is the funniest thing she’s seen all day so you recoil into yourself with the feeling of your cheeks heating up, “Sorry, I'm so embarrassing,” You scorn yourself catching just how over the top your reaction must be before explaining, “The last however many days feel like a fever dream.”

She clicks her tongue, waving your apology off, “Don’t apologise, you’re fine.”

So in an attempt of making less of a fool of yourself, you try your hardest to get into your Date character when you say, “Anyway, when’s 1989 Taylor’s Verison?”

The shriek of laughter that leaves Taylor’s red lips has you feeling fuzzy inside. The next few minutes you’re just going on and on about her music and in return you get some random details and stories from her that you’d never think of finding out in your life.

Taylor had just asked you which songs you’d say are a must on the set list, and after the long response you gave her, you add, “You know I was so ready to plan a trip over to the States so I could go to your tour but Ticketmaster absolutely fucked me over and I’m still on the wait list.”

“Oh yeah, sorry, that was a horrible mess.” She cringes to herself and you feel so bad when she continues with a sorrowful tone in her voice, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Of course! But you’re the Taylor Swift, it was to be expected.” You reply, matter-of-factly because you had been expecting it to be a hassle but not that much of a mess.

“Awh you’re too kind.” Taylor coos at you and reaches her hand out to give your forearm a soft squeeze before her hand comes back to her side and she sighs in forlorn, “I mean, I get that but also this new system… I really thought it would be so helpful to avoid scammers but it didn’t and on top of it all, it just made it so much worse didn’t it?”

“It really did.” You say honestly, with a soft pout. “And here I thought getting my Harry tickets had been hell enough.”

The pop star gives you a sad smile hearing that but she backtracks to what you said first, “So you still haven’t got tickets?”

You shake your head, “Unfortunately not.”

Being the absolute best, Taylor grins brightly at you and offers, “Well you’re so welcome to come over whenever you want once the tour starts.”

“Are you serious?” You can’t help your hand flying over your mouth in shock.

Taylor finds your reactions so adorable, she giggles before agreeing, “Absolutely! You can come with Matty, I’m sure he’d be down to go. Right?”

Up until that moment, Matty had stood watching you two interact and melting over how ecstatic you were to have one of your favourite artists in front of you. You were practically gleaming with happiness and that made him feel elated.

You had fully forgotten he was there, completely taken by the situation you were in and when you turned to see him as he said, “‘Course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” with a wink aimed at Taylor, you felt your stomach flip inside you.

You scorn yourself mentally, feeling so stupid to subconsciously react that way but Taylor playfully adds, “Plus, there’s nothing better than crashing one of your friend’s gigs is there?” with a smirk took you back to the moment you were in.

The three of you laugh, you know she’s clearly referring to herself and what she’s doing there but then Matty corrects her by saying she wasn’t crashing the gig, but making it even better, earning giggles from Taylor and a sweet thank you.  

“So I’ll expect you sometime later this year.” Taylor says, looking at you expectantly.

And despite not knowing if attending with Matty would even be possible in the future, you still give her the biggest smile and the most heartfelt, “Thank you for that.”

“My pleasure, Y/N.” The blonde says and it feels like the end of the conversation so you turn to Matty in slight panic and he saves you by starting another conversation up.

Though this time, it feels more like they’re talking with each other and you’re just merely a spectator. Laughing when they laugh is all you get in, and watching them avidly exchange words has your insecurities rising back up. You thought your imposter syndrome couldn’t get any higher than it did last night but it certainly feels just as prominent again now.

In your head, they start to make sense the more minutes pass. They get each other in so many ways. They make music, they get what it’s like growing up famous, the aches of not having privacy, the torturous cycle of record, drop an album and tour, and repeat.

And as they go on and on, you find yourself comparing your life to Taylor’s and how you’ll never truly be able to understand what it’s like for him. You’re new to all of this in general, and you already feel imposter syndrome at all the events you're invited to, but this makes you feel like a fish out of water. Your mind jumps to the ultimate conclusion that Matty would be much better off with someone like her. Someone on his level, someone in his league.

You’re silently suffering every second that goes by and it gets harder to laugh at Matty’s jokes with the growing knot in your throat. So, trying your hardest to sound normal, you excuse yourself to go get yourself a drink and you barely wait for their responses when you’re off.

Water is what you stick to, not wanting to add alcohol into the whirlwind of emotions you’re currently feeling just in case it would worsen it up. And you definitely didn’t need that when it’s your supposed official first outing as Matty’s girlfriend.

You down a full cup of cold water like you’d been stuck in the desert for a whole week and you’re pouring yourself another one when you feel a pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind. Those familiar curls come to tickle your skin when Matty hides his face in your neck and presses kisses to your skin there.

A smile breaks on your face slowly, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment but then you raise your head back up, hold your water filled cup, and you catch a glimpse of Ross talking to Taylor this time, people orbiting around subtly waiting for their turn to get a minute of the pop star’s attention and your insecurities can’t be held back any longer.

“Girlfriend?” You ask Matty, and the word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, like you’re waiting for him to inevitably try to softly take it back.

He giggles, loving hearing that word tied to you, and he pecks your neck once more before nonchalantly replying, “Yeah, well, If you want to be?” He only words it like that just so you don’t feel suffocated if it’s not what you want, but god does he want to call you that every chance he gets from now on.

The fluttery feeling it gives him disappears completely when you let your voice drop almost entirely and he can barely hear you when you mumble, “I think it’s more do you want to settle for me?”

“Woah,” Matty’s grip on you loosens immediately and he moves to the side to see your face. And when he sees that you’re deadly serious he grabs your hand and instructs, “Come here.”

The curly haired man pulls you in the direction of the hallway, out of the big green room and into the next room which is also theirs but has only a few members of their crew chatting together and writing some stuff down.

Matty knocks on the halfway open door and asks, “Can we have the room please?” his worry entirely written on his face so everyone nods eagerly and they quickly get their things to leave. “Thanks.”

As you’re both waiting for people to clear the room, you can feel his thumb stroking the back of your hand as he holds it and you wish that helped everything you were currently feeling. But it doesn’t. It just makes you think that you’re about to lose it, lose this, and that after this conversation you probably won’t ever experience it again.

The second the last person is out and they’ve closed the door behind them, Matty steps around you to face you and grabs your hands, “What do you mean ‘settle’ for you? Do you really think being with you is settling?”

He hopes that his touch is enough to help you feel better but it’s clear this is much more than a small concern when you shrug and admit, “Yeah. To be entirely honest, yeah, because you could do so much better.”

His jaw drops slightly, his heart sinking to the pits of his stomach and his hold becomes stronger as he almost begs for you to be joking, “Please, please tell me you’re winding me up because that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

The knot in your throat tightens and you know if you even try to open your mouth, all that will come up is a stupid cry so you stay silent, letting your eyes drop from his in embarrassment. You feel even worse when he dips his head, trying to get you to look at him and his voice goes quiet when he asks, “Do you not want this?”

His words were laced with such sorrow that it kicks you in the gut and makes you look up, shaking your head eagerly to deny that, “I- no, I do,” You clear up the quickest you can but you think it’s best if you just say your thoughts aloud so you let your insecurities fall from your lips, “But you could be with someone like Ta-”

“Don’t say that.” Matty stops you hastily. He pulls you in by your hands, letting them drop so his hold is now on your waist and he stares right into your eyes to tell you, “Don’t compare yourself to other people when we’re talking about us.”

You’re about to tell him that you can’t help yourself, not when even your best friend can see it being possible, but he beats you to it as he reassures you further, “I want to be with you, okay? I’m the one massively punching here and I can’t believe you think that being with you is anywhere near settling because it’s not.”

Your brows furrow and the corners of your lips drop when you fight his argument with a sad tone in your voice, “You are not the one punching.”

But Matty won’t let that thought continue to be a thing inside your mind because it couldn't be further from the truth, “I am.” He reassures you again and brings one of his hands up to cup your jaw.

“Baby, you’re breaking my heart.” His eyes are looking straight into yours, begging for you to drop all of it, for you to stop believing yourself and start abiding by what he’s telling you to be the truth.

It’s hard though, when all that you can think of is him regretting his decision of ever having something with you because he realises he could have anyone he could’ve ever wanted. You don’t want to be a waste of time for him.

There’s no way you could embarrass yourself any further now so you let your thoughts freely fall out of your mouth, “I just don’t want you to feel like you've wasted your time ever being with me when you could have someone so much better.”

You can barely get the last word out before a sob rips through you and all he can think of doing is crush you into a hug, because his words don’t seem to be helping at all. His heart breaks feeling you shake in his arms, the collar of his shirt getting wet from your tears and they burn his skin like cigarettes being put out on him.

Matty just lets you cry it out, dropping kisses on top of your head as you do, rubbing one of his hands up and down your back and telling you that, “You’re fine.”

There’s a small moment of clarity when you realise just what you’re doing and you pull back to aggressively wipe your tears as you curse under your breath, “For fucks sake, I’m sick of crying. Jet lag is doing me so dirty.”

Something clicks when you say that, his hands slowly going down your sides until they settle on your hips again and, pouting, he asks you for confirmation, “This is why you were upset when you were away too, isn’t it?”

But your quick, “No.” is not convincing to him, despite it being the truth so he says, “Baby.” sternly under his breath because he just wants you to continue being open with him, so you can work it out.

And you give him just that, sighing and retelling what had happened, “Amelia said something and it just got to me because I’d been awake like thirty hours. I didn’t-,” You cut your own rambling before your voice breaks again and inhale deeply to continue, “I didn’t want to think about what this was when I was meant to be hosting the fucking Golden Globes, but then you hesitated before and it brought it all back.”

The way your chest heaves as you’re trying to swallow a sob has Matty holding back from becoming visibly upset himself, forcing himself not to tear up because he wants to remain calm for you.

Softly, he starts explaining just what happened before, “I only hesitated because I don’t know if that’s what you even wanted.” He stops, trying to think of a better way to put it because he didn’t want to sound like an arsehole, “I know I asked you at that party and I was serious about it but I didn’t know if you remembered because we hadn’t talked about it since. I didn’t know whether you just wanted to fuck for a while and then leave it as friends.”

Your chin wobbles after hearing him and all you can think of doing is admitting, “I don’t want to be your friend.”

Taking the chance to make a joke so he lightens up your mood, he flashes you a sad smile as he finishes the lyric, “You want me to kiss your neck?”

And thankfully that has you snorting, “You’re a dickhead.” You tell him, fighting a smile entirely a product of amusement, and recoil into yourself when you proceed to admit, “But yeah I do.”

He lets you breathe, seeing you start to calm down. Your incessant tears and heart wrenching sobs are exchanged for bloodshot eyes and sniffling, and it’s when he feels you relax under his touch that he pleads, “Can we make this official then please?”

“You actually want that?” You know you’re being quite annoying with your lack of confidence but after having had all of those thoughts spinning around your head for such a long time, you feel like you need every bit of reassurance you can get.

His wholehearted faith in himself when he nods and says, “More than anything.” make you want to cry all over again, and the feeling only gets stronger when he continues on praising you, “I’ve told you I’m obsessed with you. I don’t wanna let you go. Struggled for the last few days baby, it’s been awful.”

You can’t help your eyes filling up with tears again, seeing Matty all blurry in front of you through them, your pout reappearing on your face.

Matty swears seeing you upset is one of the worst aches he’s felt, so he almost begs you to reply with a yes when he says, “Those better be happy tears.”

“They are.” You nod, pursing your lips when a few stubborn tears fall down your cheeks, and you repeat, “They are.” just to assure him you’re feeling fine now, “Sorry you know when you sometimes just need a cry.”

That he truly understands, but god does it hurt watching you get so upset over something you really shouldn’t. And he knows it’s all in your head, so there isn’t anything else he’d rather do than help you overcome moments like it.

“Come here.” Matty pulls you in again, his arms around your waist and yours snaking around his middle. He feels you nuzzling into his neck, completely melting in his embrace, and it feels so fucking nice to have you like this again.

The distance these few days have brought between you has been enough for him to know for certain that he wants something with you, so he can’t let more time go by without asking again, “So you’ll be my girlfriend?”

Perhaps is rather fucked up of your brain to bring on more obstacles that you can think of but you try to lighten it up by turning your brand new aching thought into a bit of a joke, so you lean back and look him in the eye before you carefully ask, “You won't get upset about me having to flirt with people for a living?”

Yet, Matty is so sure in his answer that he doesn’t even take another second to say, “Nope. Can talk about it more later if you want. I know it’s early on but you know when you can feel something is right? And I don’t want to waste any time with you, I’m all in. I really want to see where this could go.”

You feel every atom in your body melt at his words, a gleam in his eyes as he takes in every inch of your face and his heart starts beating faster in his chest when you smile brightly at him and give him a hint of a nod, “I want that too.”

Right then, he knows deep down that it’s a moment he’d live to remember. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but he hopes that the feelings bottled up inside the both of you meant that this between you would go on for far longer than the two of you could ever expect.

“Then it's settled, girlfriend.” That smirk you love so much makes an appearance and it somehow settles it all for you.

Now feeling more playful, you can’t pass on the opportunity to egg him on so you try your luck, “If I'm your girlfriend can you do something for me?”

His curiosity has him nodding almost instantly, “‘Course.”

But you watch him clearly deflate and give you a sarcastic roll of his eyes when your petition is for him to, “Play Antichrist.”

Narrowing his eyes at you, he leans in until you feel his lips brushing yours and he teases you by saying, “Some things not even girlfriends get the privilege of.”

“Then please put out the ubiquitass version of The 1975. Please.” You bargain this time, pulling back slightly so he doesn’t have the chance to avoid answering by sealing your lips together.

You’re actually surprised when he tilts his head to the side and smiles widely at you, “We might have another version of Being Funny somewhere.” He trails off mysteriously and your jaw drops.

“Is it coming soon? Are you actually putting it out? Are there more songs?” Your questions spill past your lips in a rush, eyes wide in intrigue.

But Matty leans into you and his lips brush against yours again when he lowers his voice to say, “I can’t say.” His eyes dropping from yours to look down at your lips, lets you know he’s about to kiss you so you don’t have the chance to dig for more information.

Not giving in, you lean backwards ever so slightly, creating a bit of distance between you before you just state, “Rude.”

And he fights that back by reminding you, “I just got you a date with Taylor Swift.”

Your eyes go wide when you remember that has happened only a few minutes before and you giggle in disbelief, words failing you entirely then.

So Matty softly chuckles at you and wraps his right arm around your waist to pull you impossibly close to him and he mutters, “Come here.” before cupping your jaw and pressing his lips on yours.

His hold on you is tight yet delicate, strong enough for you to know that he wants you as close as he can have you and his mouth moving on yours so passionately, you’re willing to give up oxygen entirely and forever if it meant feeling the way you do when he kisses you like this.

You reciprocate, arms going around his shoulders and one of your hands going up his neck until your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of it. Pulling on it, he moans softly and you happily swallow that sound.

Both of you smile so hard into the kiss then, that it’s fully broken and, breathlessly, he pulls back just enough to watch your face and use his words to say what he was trying to express with that kiss, “I’m obsessed with you baby. You’re not allowed to forget.”

Entirely driven by your emotional state, your brows furrow again and you’re starting to pout when he lets a breathy laugh out that hits your lips and he reminds you, “No more crying.”

Using your nails to scratch lightly at his scalp where your fingers are, you let your pout turn into an attempt of a playful smile, “Well you better not do half your set then because I will be crying in the pit.”

The thought of you being upset again, even if it just was because of his music, has Matty needing to comfort you and to tell you how much he means it when he says he adores you, but he knows that if he keeps talking, you’ll cry again so his solution is to kiss you one more time.

His lips are plush against yours, moving so sweetly and patiently with yours like he’s just signed a lifetime away to dedicate merely to kissing you. Like he now has all the time in the world to feel you like this so he won’t rush it anymore, he’s now entirely focused on enjoying every second he gets you this way.

His fingers on your waist clutch you tighter, his fingers pressing into your skin make for a new familiarity brewing that makes you sigh in content into the kiss. Your lips open and he takes the silent invitation for his tongue to come into your mouth.

Humming in bliss, you both take your time taking each other in, breathing heavily through your noses and willing this to last as long as you can until there’s a moment when you remember everything that has happened these past few days and you have to break the kiss since you start feeling emotional again.

You’re not going to cry anymore or at least that’s what you’re trying not to do, closing your eyes for a fair few seconds with your forehead pressed to his and noses bumping in such proximity.

You sigh but smile, opening your eyes to look into his and whispering right against his lips, “I’m obsessed with you too.”

His nose rubs against yours in a eskimo kiss and you see the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiles and whispers back, “Are you okay?”

You nod, grinning to yourself when you feel his unruly curls brushing your forehead, tickling you in a way you’re growing to love, “Yeah, I think I just need a super long sleep to get me back in working order.”

Matty playfully snorts and rolls his eyes, “Absolute Grandma.” and he has you back to giggling with him how he’s used to.

“Know me so well.” You laugh, nodding in confirmation.

The singer kisses you once more before he pulls you into another big hug, and it lasts a long time. You only now realise how just how much you need it, everything feels like it did before, like all is at peace when you’re being held against him so tight.

Your curly haired brunette can’t stop himself from reiterating, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” You hum, closing your eyes and squeezing him that bit tighter.

You just spend a solid few minutes hugging each other and gently talking, Matty making sure to rub up and down your back and do anything to make you that little bit less emotional. He can’t believe his lucky stars though.

You’re his girlfriend. Even when he thinks about you officially having that title a smile comes to his lips. He’s so enamoured by you, he’s so happy you even want to be with him in the first place, he can’t wait to let himself get a little more romantic with you.

Another minute passes by before your little conversation is interrupted by a knock on the door followed by someone calling, “Matty?”

“Give us a minute.” Matty calls back, not wanting this moment with you to end just yet.

But unfortunately the singer hears his guitar tech inform him, “Your Mum’s here mate, she’s currently got Taylor Swift in about five pictures.”

Hearing that makes you giggle in his arms, picturing it with ease and you can practically feel Matty cringing at the thought. But he doesn’t break your moment, he just shouts back, “Be there in a sec.”

You feel a kiss on the top of your head and he releases a content sigh as he rubs up and down your back. And you give him another tight squeeze before you release your hold on him and pull back a little so you can look up at him.

He softly smiles at you, seeing that your eyes are still a little puffy from you getting upset. But you just look so damn cute to him. Looking all smiley with his merch on and you’re in his arms and you’re his girlfriend. He’s never been so happy.

“Are you okay?” Matty asks as he cups your face again, and he smiles when you lean into his palm a little as he gently strokes your cheek, “Do you wanna wait here for a minute?”

The singer is in no rush to go and see his Mum. Especially now because he’s nervous to introduce you to her. Not because you wouldn’t like each other but because he knows his Mum is very full on.

“No, it’s okay.” You shake your head, you’re feeling very composed again now thankfully. But you do need to ask, “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

“A little bit, yeah.” Matty tells you honestly as he moves a loose strand of hair out of your face.

You pout and sigh, “Shit.”

He’s softly smiling at you though and he laughs at you scorning yourself before he shushes you when he continues, “Still very pretty though, so don’t worry.”

Your tip twitches at that and it takes a lot in you not to call him out on it and deny his compliment. Instead, you bite your tongue and appreciate what he’s said with a smile, but you do chuckle anxiously, “Your Mum’s going to think I’m a headcase.”

“My Mum already loves you.” Matty assures you.

Because the amount of times after your date first aired that he heard Denise say things like, ‘You should ask her out properly Matt… Someone like that would be good for you... You need to put yourself out there again and a girl like her would be lovely.’

Not to mention when you released the ‘Spicy Edition’ of your date a few weeks later, Matty got a FaceTime from her then quite seriously demanding, ‘You need to get a grip and hurry up and ask that chicken shop date girl out before someone else finds out how wonderful she is… I just replied to her story saying how amazing she looked at those GQ Awards and bless her, she replied saying ‘Just trying to look as good as you do on Loose Women’... I love her Matt. Ask her out before you come round for dinner one day and she's already sat at our table.’

Little did Denise know that he already had full intentions to go on another date with you. But her incessant pestering just meant that he wanted to keep you out of her mind so she didn’t put you off.

You chuckle but shake your head, “You’re too nice.”

“Just telling you the truth.” Matty assures you, “She’s going to be over the moon.”

That makes your heart swell and you can only hope she does like you. You’ve looked up to her for years, even before you knew about Matty.

“Lets not keep the UK’s Kris Jenner waiting.” You grin and slip your hand into his so you can encourage him to find his Mum and say hello.

Matty kisses you once more before you both leave the room and you can’t help but notice the stark contrast to how you felt entering the room to now leaving it. You can’t believe you’re somebody’s girlfriend again, Matty’s especially. If you think about it for too long though, you’ll get too emotional again so you try not to think about just how lucky you are just yet. You’ve got inlaws to meet.

You both hear her before you see her, she was asking the guy who must have been the one to knock on the door a little earlier asking, “You said he was this way?... Lincoln, come on, he’s this way. Let's go say hello to my son who can’t be bothered to greet me.”

Matty makes you chuckle when he groans about his Mum, “I don’t know how he puts up with her.”

“Leave her alone.” You shake your head, knowing he’s just being dramatic over it, more than likely because he’s nervous to introduce you.

But Matty persists, “You’ll be begging her to do that to you after tonight.”

You’re about to tell him that you really won’t when Denise comes around the corner and all of you stop to greet each other. It seems the Loose Woman hasn’t seen you just yet because she just reaches out to her son to embrace him, “Oh Matty, there you are.”

“Hiya Mum.” Matty says, and you let his hand slip from yours so he can return her big hug.

“Hi darling,” Denise gives her son a squeeze but when she sees from over his shoulder that you are just behind him, her eyes go wide and she exclaims, “Oh, it's you!” and Matty is let free from the hug and all of her attention moves to you as she excitedly grins, “You’re his chicken nugget date girl!”

This makes you laugh instantly, loving that she remembers you from your date with her son, but the mis-titling of it is hilarious. Gosh, you already love Denise Welsh so much, and you have a feeling once you get to know her, you’ll love her even more.

“How many times have I told you that she has a name and it’s Y/N?” Matty scolds her, shaking his head, but you’ve taken no offence to it at all.

She can call you Matty’s chicken nugget girl for the rest of time and you’d be happy with it. Not to mention, forever entertained.

“Sorry pet, I didn’t mean to be rude.” She smiles and she offers you a hug which of course you accept.

“It’s okay.” You assure her, giving her a squeeze before taking a step back and Matty slips his arm around you.

“Mum,” Matty says as he rubs his hand up and down your side comfortingly, and he looks at you as he introduces you properly, “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

Matty looks so proud to say it, and to say it confidently. He wishes he would have said it confidently earlier and avoided your upset but it’s a conversation that needed to happen and he has no doubt he’d be talking to Taylor with you again. He will be sure to state it louder and prouder then.

“Oh thank god you asked her out.” Relief can be heard in the actress’ voice and you’re listening to her as she starts to say, “I’ve been going on at him since your date telling him to-”

But then she clearly looks at you a little bit closer and she interrupts herself, wanting to make sure you’re alright, “Oh love, are you okay? Why’d you look all upset?”

You’re about to tell her about your travels and your lack of sleep dramatically affecting how you regulate your emotions, but Denise assumes before you can tell her.

She looks at her son, almost giving him a death glare as she accuses, “What have you said Matthew?” and before either you can defend him or him himself, she looks to you and asks, “Has he upset you being all gobby?”

“Me?” Matty asks, wide eyed and offended, “Woman, you’re the gobshite of the family, I’m not the Loose Woman.”

At that Denise rolls her eyes scorningly before her expression softens and she looks back at you full of concern. But you make a point to assure her and get Matty out of the doghouse.

“No, nothing, he’s fine,” You promise her, smiling as you say, “I’m just really jet lagged and it’s making me unusually emotional.”

Matty raises his eyebrows, “See, eat your words now Mum.”

“Shut up Matthew.” Denise scolds him, waving him off before looking at you, still concerned and repeats herself, “Are you sure you’re okay, pet?”

“Yeah, my head’s just everywhere tonight.” You nod, giving her a smile, “I promise, I’m really happy.”

Matty pulls you into his side a little more at that and you let yourself indulge in it and lean in. And you can’t help your smile getting bigger when you feel him kiss the top of your head again, and his actions have his Mum’s heart aching seeing her son so happy again.

“Awe look at you both, such a gorgeous couple.” She coos, grinning at the scene in front of her, but when your smile gets bigger she can't help but add looking straight at you, “And you’re really pretty.”

“God, don’t make me cry again.” You say, feeling your eyes well up again, and you fan your eyes with the one that isn’t wrapped around your boyfriend.

Denise steps forward to gently grab your hand, “No, hunny.”

“Sorry,” You smile, blinking to try and make the tears dissipate, “A lack of sleep really doesn’t agree with me.”

“Don’t we know it.” Matty grins.

You fake a glare and nudge him, “Shut up you.” but this has Denise in stitches.

“Oh, you’re going to fit in the family so well.” The actress grins, and she can tell just from the small interactions she’s seen between you that you really mean a lot to him and that he really likes you. She’s so happy he’s made the effort with you, she knows how badly he needs someone like you in his life, so she grins, “Someone to keep him in check.”

After chatting a little more, you get introduced to her husband Lincoln and his little brother Louis and you’re pleased that they all seem to like you. All of you end up back in the green room where you find new but familiar faces. And you’re grinning once more when you watch Denise hug Flo before both you and Matty get your turn with her.

Matty gets to her first though and grins, “Heya Wheels.”

She smiles back at him, greeting him with a tight hug, “Hey Curly, where’s Y/N/N?”

Her question reaches your ears just as you reach her side and you greet her with an enthusiastic, “Hi Flo.”

She turns around to hug you this time but he smile entirely falls when she sees you face and before you could even open your arms to embrace her, she’s whipping her head back to face Matty and almost hisses through her teeth when she says, “What the fuck have you done?”

“I’ve not done anything.” Your boyfriend raises his hands up in sign of innocence but Flo doesn’t buy it one bit.

“Has he done something to make you upset?” She grabs your hands as she asks with a frown on her face.

You can’t help but giggle, heart warming at her concern for your state but you shake your head and smile at her to settle down her worries, “No no, I'm just really jetlagged and I keep crying. I promise everythings fine.”

You watch as her face softens and her hand rests on her chest while she lets out a long exhale, “Oh thank god,” she starts, turning back to Matty with an accusing finger pointing at him, “Because I was gonna fight you, making the most gorgeous woman in the world cry. You’re lucky I didn't instantly slap you.”

You pout at her words, not accepting the compliment at all, “You’re too kind.”

But she doesn’t allow you to do that, she reiterates her point by saying, “No, just telling the truth, gorgeous.” and winking at you, which has you giggling as your cheeks heat up.

“Florence Turner, you can’t flirt with George and my girlfriend, pick one.” Matty scoffs, but then changes his words for a better scolding, “Better yet, pick your husband and baby daddy.”

Never has Flo been happier than to hear that the curly haired brunette has finally secured his girl. If she wasn’t in the mood to tease, she would be jumping up and down congratulating them.

“Baby daddy’s back on tour.” Flo smirks before wrapping her arm around your waist and telling Matty, “So I'm going to do more than just flirt with your girlfriend, don't you worry.”

You feel yourself get flustered by that sentence alone, but when she brings her other hand up to shield her lips from Matty as she whispers into your ear, you feel your mouth go dry. All Matty can do is watch as his best friend whispers something that makes you look away from him and start getting more flustered.

Flo drops her hand and moves back a little, enough to look at you knowingly and ask loud enough for Matty to hear this time, “How about it?”

“Sounds like fun.” You just about manage to force yourself to say and your lack of composure has Flo smirking.

She looks from you to Matty, and your boyfriend’s face being concerned yet desperate to know what was said makes it all the more rewarding.

Flo makes her exit then, turning around in the direction of her cousin to steal baby Hann’s attention for a bit, giving you two a little wave, accompanied by a mischievous grin on her face.

Taking your hand again, Matty asks, “What was that then?”

And despite how much what Flo told you has left you speechless, you try your best to change your expression for a taunting smirk and tut at your boyfriend, “That’s for me and Mrs Turner to know.”

“I’ll tell Alex.” Matty threatens loosely, with his eyebrows raising and eyes going wide as if he was entirely serious.

So you fully dare him to do it, intentionally making it seem like something else was said, “Tell him, I think he’d enjoy what she has planned.”

That bluff leaves him speechless and of course because he cannot live with being left with some intrigue, he’s trying to get it out of you the whole time until he and the lads are called up to go on stage.

At this point you get told to stick with Flo and you’re both given O2 wristbands and you both follow Jamie down to the floor where you see that glorious bat signal that reads ‘The 1975’. It makes you emotional, it hitting you again just how long you’ve waited to see this show, and before you even get to the sound desk where Flo is going to be staying, you tell her that you’re just going to head into the pit.

She offers to join you but you don’t think it would be wise for her in a place where all of the fans in here will know who she is, especially when she’s also carrying precious cargo. So after her telling you to meet you back at the desk before the last song ends, you disappear off into the sea of people.

You’re pathetically emotional throughout the whole set, mostly the first half of it though. You were tearing up as Matty started playing the piano and when each of the boys walked out on stage, as if you’re not shagging the man singing and have been with all of them for hours.

But suddenly it’s not anyone you know personally up on stage anymore. It's your favourite band, your boys, The 1975. And you get lost in the music.

It’s all a little much for you. Sincerity Is Scary, Fallingforyou, and all of the slower songs off the new album have you in tears. And when they reach About You and Carly comes out you’re absolutely done for. You’re crying the whole way through and your throat hurts with the way you shout Carly's lines back at her.

But then Taylor comes out and you lose it again even though you were half expecting the intrusion with the way they were talking earlier. Hearing Anti-Hero’s live debut was amazing and hearing her sing The City, which is still one of your favourites, has you crying again.

You dance and cry your way through the At Their Very Best section of the show, again losing your composure during Robbers. Although, Matty does make you laugh when he says, “I’m not kissing anyone in front of Taylor Swift. In front of the queen? Have some respect.”

He chuckles to himself after that, and he adds after a beat, “And I've got myself a missus remember? No more kisses for you lot.”

Everyone starts screaming hearing that, and it has you chuckling to yourself. Watching Matty you see him looking at the people near the barrier and he moves back to the microphone to correct them, “No, you're not about to get The Birthday Party.”

There’s a mumble of defeated chatter then, until Matty grins and tells the room of 20,000 people, “I’m just getting laid.”

Screams fill the room, but you just elect to die from the embarrassment despite only a handful knowing it's you. Your cheeks go stupidly hot and you genuinely hide into your hands for a second silently screaming, not believing he said that.

He moves on, telling everyone, “Now back to something a little more depressing.” and Somebody Else is queued in.

The rest of the set seems to fly by after that, and before you know it Give Yourself A Try is about to finish and you’re watching in awe as the band waves to everyone who came to see them and it hits you square in the chest when you see just how happy Matty is as he’s waving to everyone.

When they turn off the power at the lamppost and the room erupts once more, you get lost in the sea of people. You just give yourself a second in your spot, taking everything in, thrilled to bits with the show and it was everything you wanted and more.

Turns out this was a bad thing to do, because you get a few people recognising you, which turns into a lot of people recognising you. You don’t mind taking pictures or saying hello to anyone but after the 25th one, you don't really see a way out of your predicament.

You should have gone back to the sound desk a song early like Flo said. But no, you got caught up in the moment seeing your favourite band. You’re in a lot more videos and selfies over the next few minutes until thankfully a security guard recognises you and comes over to help and the crowd around you starts dissipating, finally leaving the floor.

The room is practically empty when you look around it now, most of the people have already vacated and the sound desk is empty and you’re a little bit stuck for what to do until you’re escorted by that steward to the thankfully another security guard that you recognise and you ask him to radio Mark or someone who can confirm who you are.

When you finally get back to the green room, the room is buzzing, and it’s Flo who finds you and hugs you first apologising that she left the room without you as she couldn’t spot you. Denise then gets to you and you chat about how good the show was until your eyes land on a freshly showered Matty entering the room again.

He’s in joggers and his chicken shop date hoodie now and he looks so adorable you could cry again. But it’s just when his lips find yours again and his arms find home around your waist, you feel so overwhelmed by everything you just wish you could escape from everyone and it be just the two of you again.

After telling him how proud you are of him and how amazing the set was, he can clearly see you’ve been crying and asks how you are. Once he’s certain you’re alright you end up congratulating the other boys and you have another longer chat with Taylor.

She’s certainly everything you hoped for and more. She promises you a chicken shop date and tickets to the eras tour and you think January 12th 2023 might just be the best day of your life.

The excitement to watch the gig tonight had clearly been all that was fueling you so a little later when Ross asks Matty if you and him are coming to the after party, you decline straight away.

You tell your boyfriend that you’ll be alright going back home alone because you are dying to shower and get in bed, but Matty refuses to leave your side so he tells Ross he’s skipping tonight and that you two will be seeing him tomorrow.

The bassist smirks when that happens, biting his tongue not to call Matty a simp because it was certainly weird of him to skip an after gig party.

You make sure to hug everyone goodbye, feeling so incredibly happy to be in the presence of all these people yet so sad to see the day ending already. For a second you consider if you could go a bit further, maybe a couple hours at the after party but when you’re hugging Carly goodbye and your eyes struggle to stay open, you know you can’t.

Going home with Matty was making you giddy though. You’re buzzing inside even though your eyes are half lidded and your steps are clumsy. Matty has his fingers intertwined with yours and he guides you with giggles through the venue and out to get into one of the many private cars Jamie had organised.

It’s no surprise you fall asleep with your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder on the drive back to what you realise it’s his house when he softly wakes you. When he unlocks his door and lets you go in first, you smile brightly to yourself at the memories that come when you see his concrete walls.

“Is it weird I’ve missed your concrete bunker?” You ask with a loopy tone in your voice, eliciting a string of giggles out of him that make your heart swell in your chest.

Thankfully, you had left a copious amount of clothes at his place before you left for LA because he had gone a bit overboard about how much clothes you needed to take back to his during that first week of the month.

So you shower as quickly as you can, already dreaming of resting your head in the plush pillows and letting your eyes close, and once you get out, he watches as you languidly try your best to quickly get in one of his big tops and dry your hair before finally getting in bed.

“I missed you so much baby.” Matty whispers into your neck as he kisses your skin softly and pulls you closer to him.

You hum in utter bliss, feeling so complete being cuddled into him and hearing him reiterate that he missed you makes your insides flip.

“I missed you too.” You reply yet again but not any less honestly.

But you’re drifting off rapidly so you don’t get to hear what he says next which is, “I adore you.” and before you fully let yourself fall into slumber, you reply with a mumble of gibberish that has him giggling before he falls silent and just watches you drift away in well needed rest.

~*~*~*~

Matty allows himself to sleep in the next morning, knowing he doesn’t have anywhere to attend to until past noon so he can spend the whole morning clutching you and getting the sleep you two so desperately need.

But that backfires when you’re both woken up to Matty’s phone going off incessantly and when he groggily answers, he curses under his breath and apologises quickly, promising he’ll be there as soon as he can and when you reach out for your phone, you see the time and it all makes sense.

It’s only about an hour and a half until soundcheck and you are still in bed.

Despite his freshly made promise, Matty doesn’t make the effort to actually get out of bed, instead he lets his phone drop on his night table and scoots closer to you, nuzzling his face in the back of your neck and kissing every inch of your skin there.

“Baby, we need to go.” You remind him as you struggle to turn around in his hold.

Matty groans into your neck, like he’s refusing to listen to you but you tangle your fingers into his curls and pull on his hair so he can see you but the reiteration of your words die in your throat when he lets out a low moan at your action.

Your jaw falls a bit at the sound and he giggles in response, dipping his head to kiss you feverishly, moaning again when you let your lips part and your tongues meet.

Before it can go further, because you can feel his hands starting to roam, you take the role of being the responsible one and break the kiss, standing up from bed and forcing him to follow suit.

The wave of incoming messages that flood Matty’s phone the more minutes go by are what rush you two getting ready for the day and after a bit over an hour and a half, because Matty forced you to have breakfast calmly with him, you’re standing right in the middle of the barricade, watching your favourite band - or better said, your boyfriend’s band - soundchecking for a second sold out show at the O2.

It’s mesmerising seeing them work their magic on stage even if it’s just a soundcheck. Them playing around and laughing aloud but also being meticulous of every little detail sounding just how they want it to, has you leaning into the barrier with your forearms and stare at them all with an incredible sense of pride.

And, of course, you’re stuck staring at every move Matty makes. From the way his fingers run up and down the neck of his guitar, to the way he nods slowly as he hears the bass and the guitar in his in-ears, how he mumbles to himself as they go along and the winks he gives you whenever he turns to look at you.

Matty is also making sure to explain at the best of his ability just how he wants the interludes to go today, because he wants a different thing to happen at this show and you’re fully invested in every direction he gives everyone and how he’s laying it all to be. You can’t wait to see it on the actual show.

You had thought it was impossible, but you find yourself growing more and more entranced by him as the day goes by and in the greenroom, where you all are now after soundcheck had finished, you realise how most of the time you’re stuck mindlessly glancing at him as he engages in conversation with the lads.

That’s until your phone vibrates with a message. One from Amelia that says, On my way to the arena! Can’t wait to see you! xx that somehow gets you nervous.

It’s not that you feel like she’s going to take this in a negative way but you fear that she sees something you can’t and it once again pops the bubble you are in.

So you’re shifting in your seat and fiddling with your fingers the whole time after that text. Matty notices and he rests his hand on your knee, tracing circles on your skin and he leans in to whisper, “Are you okay?”

You could only nod and because you know he’ll get why you feel this way, you tell him, “Amelia is on her way.”

And just like you thought he would, he gives you a sweet smile before leaving a string of  chaste pecks on your lips before he softly promises you, “It’s gonna be okay.”

You feel a bit foolish when your best friend arrives and she traps you in a tight hug as she says loudly, “Why’d you leave me early, I missed you on the plane next to me bitch!”

And when Matty chats back to that with, “Play nice, that’s my girlfriend you’re talking to Dimz.” the loud screech Amelia lets out makes you wince and laugh loudly.

Her face is priceless, a wave of surprise, disbelief and pure happiness for you as she leans back to see you in a way of silently asking for confirmation and when you nod, she screeches again and pulls you in for an even tighter embrace.

“Your Tumblr dreams came true!” Amelia yells as if that was a good way to congratulate you and you hear the room breaking out in laughter behind you.

Amelia greets everyone in the room after that and the night continues but you’re so relieved when she takes a minute to pull you aside and wholeheartedly say she’s so beyond happy for you, that it was about damn time someone wasn’t blind to how amazing you were and cheekily adding that she knows Matty is the one for you.

Emphasising heavily on ‘the one’ which she knows you get exactly what she’s playing at but you’re quickly glaring at her and hissing through your teeth at her to keep her mouth shut. Because you’re not about to get your boyfriend scared off over a fanfic you wrote years ago about him coincidentally called, ‘The One’.

When you both go back into the conversation everyone’s having, Matty making you sit on his lap and wrapping his arm around your waist, you feel so warm inside because it feels like you’re part of this little family and you truly don’t know when it was that you got so damn lucky.

And in a further rush of luck, you and Amelia get a message on the group chat you two have with your manager that intriguingly just reads, Need you two in a call with me urgently in two minutes x

You look at each other with a frown and you show the message to your boyfriend so he can loosen up his hold on you as you excuse yourself out of the room, at the same time as Amelia does.

Out of everything that you were expecting, which wasn’t much, you weren’t expecting the fucking insane proposition you got to which you both said yes instantly.

Coming back into the room ten minutes later was weirdly grounding after the fever-dream-like situation that had just happened, and it shows in both your faces just how insane that call had been.

The whole room goes silent as they see you walk in, clutching Amelia’s hands for dear life and your faces are twisted in the most amusing expression of surprise.

“What happened?” Matty asks almost desperately, Amelia and you are moving like sloths and your eyes are so wide they look about to pop out of your heads.

Amelia stutters when she tries to speak first, making everyone even more confused but then in a rush of adrenaline, you manage to interrupt her gibberish by announcing, “We’ve just been asked to host the Oscars after party for Vanity Fair.”

It doesn’t feel real you saying it, but what is real are the gasps and cheers you hear in the room. It’s only a mere second before every sense of yours is taken over by Matty running to hug you and Amelia, almost throwing the three of you on the ground in the process.

“Congratulations!” is all you hear around for the next ten minutes, everyone asking about how that had happened and it’s when you and Amelia start narrating how the call had gone that it hits you and you get a bit emotional.

But your tears are stopped when Charli comes over to crush you two in a hug and saying, “I got invited to it and was gonna say no, ‘cause like I don’t like anyone there but now that you’re going then… Might as well party together.”

Amelia squeals just at the same time as you do to the news and the three of you hug again, already fucking buzzing for what that night will be like. George being the best, brings shots to celebrate and it feels like the party has started even before the show has gone.

You hug your best friend when you get her alone for a bit and you tell her that you love her with your whole heart, leaving a loud kiss on her cheeks and squeezing her so tight in a hug she’s giggling uncontrollably.

All that you feel at the moment is like your dreams have ultimately come true and that makes you feel completely unstoppable.

So when the guys eventually go on stage, and you and Amelia run for your life to get to your seats, you’re living every second of the gig like it’s the last you’ll ever attend.

There’s a different feeling brewing inside you as the songs go and you see Matty doing his usual antics on stage, but your mind short circuits when Amelia leans in just as the band is doing their synchronised side step dance at the end of I’m In Love With You - which had melted you completely at how fucking happy Matty looked on stage - and she says, “That’s literally your boyfriend on stage.”

You understand the reference so quickly and you cackle out loud, making some people turn to look at you for laughing in that moment but you pay them no attention because you turn to your best friend and gasp shortly, “It actually is!”

Every emotion you feel during the gig is amped by a thousand percent and that’s why by the end of it, you let yourself desperately run back to the greenroom and crash Matty into a dizzying needy kiss when you find him right outside the room.

“Take it, it was a good set then?” Matty lets out a breathy laugh as he rhetorically asks, that feels warm against your parted lips when he breaks the kiss.

And you don’t even have it in your heart to be embarrassed so you nod eagerly, your fingers running through his curls and your eyes are taking every detail of his face. “As usual, baby.” You reply breathlessly, you just can’t believe your luck and it all wants to come pouring out of you so you pounce on his lips again and he responds with a soft groan and wraps his arms around your waist to hold you closer to him.

The kiss is broken early this time by your lovely best friend finally making it back, since you made the run alone a few minutes ago and left her behind, and calling you out when she sees you getting off with your boyfriend.

“Oi! There’s a kid present, you animals.”

You know she’s referring to Ross’s niece who’s inside the greenroom with everyone else, but the girl can’t see you and Matty outside so you flip Amelia off before she enters the room and she cackles as she reciprocates the action.

Matty giggles and kisses your cheek and then lets his kisses wander downwards until he’s leaving a wet kiss on your collarbone and you bite your lip to silence a soft moan.

“What’s gotten into you baby?” He asks with a smirk, but before you can answer, he adds, “Not that I don’t love it, I really fucking do. All of this. But I’m surprised, what did I do?”

Your teeth still have your bottom lip trapped so when the corners of your lips lift into a smirk, you look rather mischievous and something inside him flips. The feeling only gets stronger when you whisper, “Be my boyfriend.” and steal one last kiss out of him.

You could stay the whole night just kissing him then, but this time you’re both not missing the after party so once everyone is ready to leave, you’re walking out of the venue and getting crammed into a private car with Matty, Amelia, George, Charli, and Jamie en route to The Standard Hotel.

When you get there, you’re surprised by a little crowd of paparazzi that blind you with their intense flashes even from outside the cars, but it’s when you see those flashes that you realise that for yours and Matty’s privacy’s sake, you can’t be seen going in with him at all. Even if he does have more people in the entourage in the cars behind you, you can’t risk it.

So it’s decided at that point, The main four of them who would be expected in a car together would be getting out and you and your best friend would be looping around the block to come in with other less important people.

Matty quickly kisses and apologises before getting out but he tells you that he will wait for you just further into the reception of the building. Away from any prying eyes or camera lenses.

It takes 10 minutes waiting in the queue of cars to get back to the drop off point, and when you step out Amelia and you hold hands as thankfully less flashes go off, capturing you and your best friend. You know then that you’re going to have to leave with your best friend later as well just so the nosey bunch couldn’t ruin the novelty of your fresh relationship with Matty.

“Fucking hate them.” Your curly haired brunette mutters when he finally can wrap his arm around your waist and pull you to him when you’re all inside the lift.

You hum in agreement, “I know.” and you smile when he quickly leans in to peck your lips.

When the lift doors open and you walk into the big suite, where the music is already making the walls shake and the people inside talk louder than normal, you’re so relieved you don’t really have to hold back in there.

“We don’t have to hide here though.” You say into his ear, your arms wrapped around his neck and he looks at you with a smirk.

His eyes fall to your mouth and you tease him by running your tongue over your bottom lip, you hear him groan deeply before he’s attacking your lips hungrily, just like you wanted him to. You’re cupping his jaw, keeping him in the kiss and when you deepen it, all your inhibitions are out of the window. Your mouth opens to greet his tongue and you let out a loud moan when it presses against yours.

You’re kissing so hard, you both grow breathless rather quickly. “Baby, if you keep kissing me like that we’re not going to make it fifteen minutes in here.” Matty warns you, and it makes you giggle.

You lean up to him, letting your lips rest against his ear before you say, “Maybe that's what I’m hoping for.” and your jaw drops the tiniest bit to bite that slutty hoop of his, giving it a gentle tug before you pull away, letting your lust filled eyes linger on your curly haired brunette before you make you leave him in his place and make your way over to the bar to get yourself a drink.

Matty groans seeing you walk away from him after just doing that. You’re arse looking so good in that tight leather mini skirt you changed into before his set. No one backstage would have to bet that you were all Matty was thinking about during the consumption interlude tonight.

Little do they know he thinks about you every night he does it, and he has done for months. Ever since the first day he first let his hand slip into his boxers at the thought of you on the American tour, all he can think about is you.

Matty’s on you like a rash for the rest of the night. His hands linger on you every chance he can when someone's eyes aren’t on the two of you. His best opportunity is when you’re dancing with him, and when he turns you around and pulls you back against him, his hands are on your thighs running up and down until he lets his touch go further inside your thighs and you welcome it by pressing your hands over his and guiding him to continue.

His hot breath is on your neck, right below your ear and it makes you sway your hips even more intently so your arse is purposely rubbing on his cock, which you feel hardening the longer you dance.

It gets to a point his breathing grows erratic, from how hard he is and how badly he just wants to take you in the middle of the room if you wanted it, so his right hand comes up to wrap around your neck and turn your face towards him so he can seal the moment with a feverish kiss.

Your lips clashing as you continue to grind on him make you both go insane and you smile so hard to yourself when his chest is heaving against your back as he pulls back and with a husky voice, he suggests into your ear, “Let’s find somewhere to go.”

Matty turns you around by your waist, groaning at the loss of friction when your arse isn’t pressed against him anymore, and intertwines your fingers to look for a place you can sneak away to so you can freely continue what you had started.

You stumble into the bar first though and a drink sounds tempting after your activities on the dancefloor have left your mouth dry. There’s a wide selection to choose from and your mind is still so dizzy from every touch and every movement of your bodies that you’re unable to choose something to drink.

Ribbons decorate the complimentary bottles of champagne that the hotel has put out for everyone, and when Matty pulls you over to crack open another bottle, you giggle when it starts bubbling over and he lifts it to neck it straight from the bottle. Matty giggles too, and he pulls you by your waist so you're pressed against him and he leans the bottle up so he can pour some into your mouth. You do this with ease, swallowing the first few mouthfuls of it before the bubbles get too much and it overflows and the liquid trickles down from your mouth to your neck and chest.

The shine it gives your skin accentuates the way the corset you're wearing is holding you in. And Matty can’t help but dip his head and clean up the line of alcohol that has ran right down your breast bone and disappeared between your cleavage. You have to hold in a moan when he licks the stripe up from your boobs to your neck, and when he pulls back with the biggest grin ever, he loves seeing that spark of lust in your eyes again.

Matty just gets more ideas though because when he puts the bottle back down, he spots the ribbon tied around it again, and he can’t help himself. He takes the material off the bottle, and he guides it around the back of your neck, both ends on the front which he ties delicately into a little bow.

But you’re having too much fun watching him react to your teasing, so you lean into his ear to softly ask for it to be “A bit tighter please,” batting your eyelashes at him when you stand back straight and you have to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from smirking.

You definitely fail because Matty looks at you entirely overcome by lust but also a certain sternness from knowing that you know exactly what you’re doing.

“Is that tight enough baby?” He asks you after he’s pulled on the bow to tighten the ribbon around your neck a bit and you nod, your bottom still caught in your teeth, so your answer is a hum which sounds almost like a whine.

Matty is done for after that, clutching your hand tight as he goes to find the nearest place you can both hide into so you can carry on what you’re doing, and the first door he’s able to find open to show a massive bathroom that looks just well enough to try and alleviate the tension that you’re both feeling.

He pulls you inside as he turns on the light and quickly closes the door, crashing his lips against yours and pushing you right against the door. One of his legs goes in between yours, making you open them up for him as he attacks your lips, the hand he’s not using to cup your jaw goes down until it’s brushing against your thigh and it starts an agonising path until it disappears under your skirt.

He is the one teasing you now, his fingers tracing the edges of your underwear and missing your centre just to make you beg for it. You have to stop kissing him, mouth agape as your breath leaves you and you’re holding back a moan when the ghost of his touch brushes over your aching clit.

You’re wet and he knows it even if he had barely grazed you and he’s about to run a teasing finger over your clothed cunt to make you more desperate when someone starts knocking incessantly on the door, making you jolt in Matty’s arms.

Holding your breath as if that would make the person leave, you stand there frozen in his arms, waiting for the knocking to stop so he can finally touch you but whoever is behind the door is very adamant on going in the bathroom because they keep knocking without a break until you and Matty are sighing in utter defeat and you have to turn around, turn off the light and open the door for the person to come in.

They must’ve been in a rush because they don’t even acknowledge you two and the door slams shut after you’re out.

You feel hot everywhere, your heart racing in your chest and your clothes feeling too constrictive already, lips plump and you suppose, your lipstick gone. Matty is sweating slightly, curls starting to stick to his forehead, lips swollen and wet and his heart also hammering in his chest.

Being the one to lead the way this time, you turn a corner into an area you hadn’t bothered to check yet and you find a room just by the end of a small hallway. Instantly, excitement rises up your stomach and trying to be quick, you open the door and fully drag Matty inside with you.

The room is spacious and it has a massive king size bed in the middle but it’s weirdly covered in a bunch of different coats and bags thrown over. You don’t even give it a second to mind because there’s some free space on the bed and you’re walking to sit on it as fast as you can, pulling Matty to stand in front of you.

Your boyfriend gets flashbacks to the night after your date, when you asked him to fuck your mouth and from the sparkle in your eye, he knows you’re thinking the same as him. He gets impossibly harder when you palm him through his trousers, looking up at him through your lashes and letting your mouth hang open as he moans at your touch.

His belt is the first thing you take care of after he lets a shaky moan like he’s going to cum in his boxers if you keep that up and you’re too horny to let a drop of him go to waste so with agile fingers you’re undoing his belt and the button of his trousers is next.

You’re halfway done pulling the zip down, catching a glimpse of the white waistband of his Calvins when the doorknob starts rattling, startling you both. You can hear people attempting to get inside the room, a muffled loud conversation and more rattling that’s soon replaced with knocking that just about drives you insane.

Giving your boyfriend an apologetic look, you let your hands fall to your sides and push yourself up from the bed. Leaving a sweet short kiss on his lips as his hands are getting him decent again.

There’s a pained expression on his face when he’s tucking himself behind the waistband of the Calvins so his hard on isn’t obvious and you feel so bad for him but you can’t help find the situation a bit comedic. A giggle falls from your lips and when he glares at you for it, you press your lips together and raise your hands up acting like that wasn’t you.

His senses are in overdrive. He’s painfully hard, he’s too hot in his clothes, his throat is dry and his head is threatening to start hurting from how the people outside the room won’t stop fucking knocking on the door.

Matty huffs when he’s done, stepping forward until he can grab your hand and you are once again taking the lead.

When you open the door, you’re greeted by a group of four people whose frowns drop when they see you and one of them asks, “They told us we could leave our stuff here?”

You have no idea if that’s true, you’re guessing it is from the amount of things over the bed so you just shrug and open the door further for them to walk in, and thankfully, they’re so distracted to just leave their stuff as quickly as they can so they can go out into the party that they don’t even notice a miserable Matty right behind you.

There’s not a sight of another room after you leave that one so you’re both left to resign your mission and just keep to enjoying the party.

“Why don’t we just get a room?” He suggests with an air of defeat looming around him that you can’t help but find amusing.

“I actually do wanna party tonight.” You’re chatting back easily, trying to see for the first time how much you can push his buttons.

And when his face falls in despair, as he tries to fight back, “But-” you know you want to keep this up for as long as you can just to see at which point he could break.

“Plus there’s paparazzi outside,” You add a second excuse, “Don’t you think the receptionist would love a good tip off for the information of you and I getting a separate room?”

It wasn’t like you didn’t want it to continue, you really fucking did, but seeing this frustrated side of him was rather interesting and what was better than finding out more about your boyfriend.

Therefore all throughout the night you’re trying to steer him closer and closer to the point where he can’t have it any more. Either by dancing suggestively with Amelia and Charli as you stare right at him or making a show of ‘accidentally’ spilling some of your drink so you can wipe it with your thumb and sucking it clean.

It’s almost 3 in the morning when you pout at the sight of your boyfriend perched on a loveseat with a frown on his face and a drink in his hand. You go up to him with feign innocence, trying to act like you’re feeling bad for him and ask what’s going on as if you don’t know you’re the one orchestrating it all.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him, pout still comically dragging the corners of your lips down and popping your bottom lip for him to stare at.

With a hand coming to brush the curls falling on his forehead back, you wait until your touch relaxes him enough to offer you a hum in return and that’s when you purposely tug on his hair, shifting on his lap at the same time so he jolts at the friction lighting up a spark he had let die an hour ago.

His arm wraps around your waist instantly, not allowing you to move in the slightest and you find him glaring up at you with dark eyes. A giggle manages to escape your lips, followed by a not at all heartfelt, “Whoops.” that he doesn’t find amusing at all.

Matty doesn’t let his gaze falter on you, and you’re growing hot under it so in a further attempt to make it worse for him, you try to shift on his lap again but his hold gets tighter when he anticipates your action.

“Come on, let's go home.” Matty whispers in your ear, his sense of urgency showing when he subtly lifts his hips up as he straightens in his seat, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist that shows in between your skirt and your top.

“Okay.” You smile and spring up from his lap almost childishly, your feet already moving away from him and in the direction of your best friend.

Your boyfriend reaches out for your hand, clutching your wrist so he stops you in your tracks, “Where you going?”

“I’m going to have to go out with Amelia.” You explain quickly, your brows raising as if to remind him of the situation outside with the paparazzi.

He finally stands up, his chest coming to press against your arm as he leans in to say in your ear, “Didn’t know you were embarrassed to be seen with me baby.”

You fully roll your eyes at him and scoff, “Yeah so embarrassed, like you haven't been glued to my side all night.”

Quickly, Matty finds the words to bite back, “Like you’ve not been trying to suck my dick all night.”

But you know you have the last word when you quip back, “Like you’ve not been begging me to. Such a shame for you baby.” and he’s completely silent. You shrug and sigh victoriously and continue with your explanation, “Anyway, you know we have to go separate or we’ll never get a second's peace.”

Bless him though, he knows just how shit it is that you’re put in this type of situation so he pecks your cheek and you feel his heavy sigh against your skin, “I know baby, I just don't wanna leave you to get hounded by them.”

“I’ve got Ames, I’ll be okay.” You reassure him, cupping his jaw to leave a quick chaste kiss on his lips.

But before you can leave his side to get your best friend, he’s flashing you a smile and asking “You wanna get some food before we go?” as a tempting little bargain.

And that is how you, Matty, Amelia, Charli, and George find yourselves in Leader Chicken which is a 5 minute car journey away. You and Amelia left first, having that chicken shop in mind to go to and you ordered yourself a chicken burger meal and Amelia a chicken nugget meal.

5 minutes later the shop door opens again and your boyfriend, Charli, and George walk in and it turns a little rowdy. Matty tries to steal some of your burger which you elbow him away from you for doing. He asks, “Thought you exclusively ate nuggets in these places? Give me a bite.”

“I eat nuggets on dates because it doesn’t scream fuck me when I’m shoving a burger in my mouth, does it?” You frown at him, thinking that was a silly thing to suggest and a very invalid reason to give him some of your food.

Matty cocks his head a little to the side and tells you, “It didn’t scream that when you were eating nuggets to be honest.”

You frown properly at him hearing that, and you're more offended by that considering you thought he looked great on your first date. “Well, why did it when you were eating them then, you slut.”

“Don’t call me a slut with company around baby.” Matty whispers in your ear.

“Don't get your hopes up for anything now after that comment big boy.” You pat his arse twice before you move to stand with your best mate and Charli, taking a bite of your burger as you go.

George laughs at the way Matty’s face drops hearing that and the drummer wraps his arm around his best mate's neck and both of them start pissing about and laughing as they wait for the food. Once the other 3 have their food, the both of you split into different cars this time.

You and Matty drop Amelia off at her flat where Zoe comes out to collect her drunk sister and the food you ordered for her. After hugging your best friend goodbye, you spend the drive back to Matty’s house laughing and talking about the gig and the night but it’s something of a relief when you make it back inside Matty’s home.

The moment you’re inside you slip your shoes off and the concrete beneath your feet is a lovely cool sensation after you’ve been on your feet all day. Matty does the same before he picks you and you tell him to go and sit down and that you will get the both of you a drink.

When you walk into the lounge after getting the both of you a glass of water and you smile when you see your curly haired brunette. Matty has sat himself down on the settee, head backwards resting on the back of it, his eyes closed enjoying the silence around him. His legs are open and his arms come to rest down by his side, telling you that he really just plopped down on the settee with absolutely no intention of moving just yet.

Coming around to see him, you put your drinks down as you ask him, “Are you alright?” and you take a seat on him, straddling his lap, and bringing your hands up to his face so your touch can sooth him.

“Just tired.” Matty tells you, his eyes opening again so he can smile at you looking all stunning on his lap.

How the hell he’s managed to get you to be his is unreal. Never has he had better luck in his life.

And he makes sure he will never take that for granted. Your sweetness radiates when you smile so genuinely at him as you say, “You did great today, I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you darling.” Matty smiles, feeling so beyond happy and thankful he gets to call you his girlfriend now for however long you’ll have him. “Proud of you too.”

“What for?” You frown, not quite understanding. You’ve done nothing with your day but be by his side.

Matty chuckles a little at your lapse in memory, “You’re going to be hosting the Oscars after party. I’m beyond proud of you.”

“Oh shit,” You gasp, then laugh as you say, “How the fuck did I forget?”

“Big night for you, you saw your boyfriend on stage.” Matty plays a little, “Easily done.”

Of course you play along, “That’s it. Thank you for reminding me.”

You lean down then, only intending to peck his lips but as soon as they make contact you remember how good he’s been, and how much he’s probably aching for some relief even if his hard on has dissipated somewhat now. So you let your lips linger on his, pulling away to graze his before kissing him sweetly again.

All the while, your hands run slowly up his chest until you find the buttons of his shirt and once the first comes undone, the rest easily follow. Matty accepts all of your kisses as he tries his best not to smirk against your lips, but when you get more than halfway done undoing his shirt he can’t help but ask to tease, “What you doing baby?”

You kiss him again until you’re finished and pull the sides of it open, exposing his chest to you where you see your favourite tattoos. Your hands come to cup both of his cheeks, deepening the kiss this time and making your boyfriend moan against your lips, and you let your hands fall to his neck and slowly down his chest.

Only breaking your kiss to explain, “You always do this yourself,” You’re looking into Matty’s eyes as your one of your hands slip down his lower stomach, the other running back up to cup the back of his neck and when you continue in a sultry tone, “Think it’s about time someone else did it for you.”

As you pull him back into another searing kiss, you let your hand fully descend between both of your bodies and grab his crotch which has him moaning into your kiss.

Your fingers clutch tight around his hardening cock as you palm him over his trousers, and he’s a mess of whimpers and moans the more you continue until you decide he feels heavy enough under your fingers to go on. Swallowing a loud moan that slips past his lips by messily kissing him, you find yourself growing impatient to make him feel good so it’s you the one who breaks the kiss, but leaving him with a teasing tug of his bottom lip that you briefly catch between your teeth.

“Fuck.” Matty groans loudly at that, and he can feel your smirk on his skin as you kiss down his jaw and down to his neck.

You leave wet open mouthed kisses to his skin as you move up to his ear and smugly tell him, “If you ask nicely, I might.” and before he can backchat, you bite and tug on that slutty hoop earring of his which has his dick twitching and sharply inhaling.

He grasps your thighs tighter, “Baby, please.” and this time his fingers move higher up your skirt until they can dig into the flesh of your arse and make you hum in pleasure at the clear sign of his need for anything at this point.

Tugging at the zip of your skirt, you can tell he’s being completely driven by lust and it makes you chuckle in excitement, but you push his hands away in a silent instruction not to do what he’s not been told. Having this much power over him right now makes you feel giddy. “Want me to make you feel good baby?” You ask, moving back up so you can kiss his lips again.

“Yes.” He pleads, the desperation clear in his voice now because not being able to touch you adds so much more to it and it slightly pains him.

You smile at him, giving his dick one final squeeze as you lift yourself up from him entirely. His hands feel entirely lost without holding you now, but the feeling is clouded by the need of your touch on him again.

As soon as you grab a pillow from just beside him and put it on the floor by your feet, Matty’s heart rate goes through the roof. He can’t fucking wait, he’s been dreaming about having your lips wrapped around his cock again, you always look so heavenly when you do and christ the way you take him is so good. He can’t wait, his hips buck upwards as if he’s already imagining it all.

Still standing, you lean down over him, doing nothing to hide your smirk when you notice him glancing longingly at the way your cleavage is on full display for him. But his eyes close when your lips take up his again, and when he comes to cup the back of your neck, you don’t let him get too attached.

Instead you start your descent, kissing down his jaw, neck, and chest slowly. You’re dragging it out entirely but you want to kiss every last inch of him, and with his chest rising and falling faster than normal you know you’re working him up for what you have planned.

When you reach the waistband of his trousers, you have to really hold yourself back from shedding him off them and follow up with his boxers. Hunger is all that’s written in your eyes, a shadow of lust covering them in the way your pupils have dilated and almost made the colour of them disappear.

But ever since you saw that interlude tonight and the night before, you’ve got this train of thought that has been going round and round the back of your head and pushing its way to the forefront of your mind tonight. You want him to freely touch himself in front of you, moan as he fucks his own fist as a personal show for you, hear the things he says as he does so, let him run his mouth about what goes through his head whenever he does this.

In the best and briefest way you can, you tell him to do what you’re dying to see, “Tease yourself for me, give me the best view.” You sit back on your knees, giving him a look that he would be nervous to even dare defy, so he slowly lets his hands trail down his chest until it reaches the top of his trousers.

You watch as he shivers when his fingers ghost over his happy trail, letting out a shaky breath as he makes his best effort to keep his eyes on you while he does what you’ve asked him to, yet it’s hard when the look you give him makes him squirm on his seat even more.

There’s a bit of hesitation when his fingers hover over the button of his trousers, slowly undoing it but he pauses before he can get to the zip and looks at you like he’s asking for permission.

“Take them off.” You nod, not wanting the show that everyone else gets, you want the real thing and all of it.

Matty does as he’s told, unzipping his trousers almost instantly and pulling them down enough for you to take over and you let them pool at his ankles. Matty groans as he palms himself over his underwear until you look back up at him and watch as he takes his cock out.

You’re transfixed as you watch as he pumps himself a few times, spreading what precum is there before he spits into his palm so he’s not fucking a dry fist. Wet mouth falling open as he goes, soft gasps slipping past his pink lips and turning into full moans the tighter he squeezed himself.

“Good boy.” You smirk, watching as he fucks his fist, and you can’t help but press a kiss to his thigh before you lean your head on him entirely, continuing to watch.

But the simple feel of your lips on him, your touch anywhere on his body right now lights up a fire that he needs you to put out. Your fingers lightly trailing up and down his calf is even making him whimper, all he wants is your touch where he desperately needs you. He can’t find the pleasure he wants by giving it to himself as if it was just another lonely night on the road when he has you right in front of him.

He uses his breathless words to plead with you, “Y/N, please.” but his touch is still tight around himself, unable to stop when it feels so good after the whole night had gone incredibly wrong whenever you tried anything. “You’re so pretty when you’re moaning my name baby.” You praise your boyfriend, eliciting a whimper out of him. His brows furrow and he presses his lips together as he continues, heavy exhales out his nose this time, his cheeks turning a subtle shade of pink.

“Aw,” You pout, “You getting all shy on me now Matty?” but the tone in which you asked is mocking instead of pitiful, which earns you a pained cry of pleasure on his part.

“Why are you huffing like that?” You scorn him softly, “Thought this was what you wanted.”

Shaking his head profusely, he corrects you, “Want you baby, please.” but his hand doesn’t stop and you just laugh at how needy he is.

For a minute you give in, licking your hand before coming to replace his and your jaw falls slightly when he moans loudly at the feeling of your nimble fingers wrapping around him and stroking him up and down at almost the same pace he had set for himself.

You’re fighting yourself in your head when you quicken your movements, causing him to grow louder and squirm more under you, hips bucking to meet your fist more often as the seconds go by.

But just when his breaths shorten and turn into gasps for air, you leave him swollen, red and leaking, so close to his high that it being stolen so suddenly manages to get you a surprised whimper that turns into a funny cry in despair.

“Baby why?!” He demands an answer, his hand coming to take over for you again but you pin his hands down on the settee before he can and you chuckle at him.

“Thought you liked edging.” You tease him as an answer, and it works when his eyes open wide to glare down at you.

“I like edging you.” Your boyfriend corrects, entirely unamused by your actions.

Any other complaint dies in his throat when you push yourself up from your knees to stand in front of him and lean down over him to whisper into his ear, “And I like hearing you all pathetic, begging for me to touch you.”

Something inside Matty flips when you say that, perhaps it’s the surprise mixed with the dizzying after effect of his stolen orgasm, but he’s so willing to just let you have your way with him tonight.

He wants to see more of you like this. The prospect of you being in complete control drives him mad, that’s why he cooperates instantly when you add, “And we’re going to go to your room now to continue.”

Without even a kiss to pacify him, you push yourself back to stand properly and without a look back at him, you walk away and up to his bedroom. You’re biting your lip trying to hold your smirk and laugh when you hear him seething and scrambling to get up somewhere behind you.

When you get to his room, you find it just how you both left it. The duvet is not quite neat but it's not the messiest you’ve both left it, but before you even make it to the bed, you feel arms go around you and messy kisses being left on your shoulder, leading up to your neck.

You let him have his fun for a minute, even letting his hand run down to the bottom of your skirt and when his fingers trail up the inside of your thigh you let him start teasing your clit through your already soaked underwear. Matty gets you all breathless for him, teasing you exactly where you’re throbbing for him until your head falls back onto his shoulder, giving him more skin for him to kiss.

You almost lose yourself, succumbing to the pleasure he’s instilling in you. But when he mumbles, “So wet for me baby.” you push his hand away from you.

Turning around to him, you can see the lust clear as day in those dark eyes, especially when his eyes fall to your chest. It makes you smirk again, and you make him take your clothes off. But when he steps closer, his lips connecting to your collarbone as he goes to undo your skirt, you stop his lips from touching you. You give him a silent instruction not to touch you as he takes your clothes off, and you can see it pains him to be denied the luxury.

His hands reach for the zip on your skirt first, and that falls to the floor within seconds. He looks like a man starved as he takes you in, but you turn around so he can get the clasps that are holding your corset together.

You almost laugh at how impatient he is when it doesn’t come off easily and he has to pull it together part by part as more come undone and you’re sure he’s never been happier to throw a piece of material across a room. And once he has you in just your thong, he moves to stand in front of you, eyes fixed to your body as he pulls the last of your clothing off.

You don’t let him gawk at your naked figure for too long, bossing him around has you feeling impatient and his reactions are only travelling down south to get you wetter. Your hands are on his shoulders then and you push him back so he sits at the edge of the bed. And you know it is cruel when you go down to your knees and look up at him through your lashes evidently hinting at what your next move will be but there’s no intention within you to actually let him cum this time either.

Matty gasps in slight relief when your hand wraps around him again, your finger coming up to his leaking tip to smear down his arousal and you pump him. Once, twice, three times until he whimpers and lifts his hips up to help you give him pleasure.

But as soon as you’re there, you’re gone. Hand coming to press on his thigh but he doesn’t have time to complain when, instead, you lean in and run your tongue flat up his cock from base to tip. There’s not even a chance for him to prepare himself when you just sink your mouth into him completely. You moan when he hits the back of your throat and still there, fingers clutching harshly on his thigh when you try not to gag.

Your poor boyfriend set his expectations too high after that, because he fully thinks you’ll finally let him coat your throat as he cums but you won’t and he realises that when you pull off him and you lean back onto your heels with a smirk.

“Why- Baby, please.” His hips writhe on the bed, his cock so hard its moves as he does and his muscles contract in frustration.

You raise an eyebrow at him and ask, “What? You liked that?” as if you didn’t feel him twitch in your mouth when you did so.

And you become so much more amused when his reaction is an effervescent nod, a heavy breath slipping past his parted lips and pupils dilating even more through half lidded eyes.

Your mind is purely focused on teasing him so you go again, letting him hit the back of your throat once again and this time you look up at him, bobbing your head once and rolling your eyes in pleasure as you moan around him.

Under your hand, you can feel his leg shaking slightly and by the way he throws his head back, you know he’s so close to coming undone so you let him have it one last time. One more bob of your head and you’re off him, rising to your feet and just staring down at him as he pathetically cries out in frustration.

“Y/N why?!” He calls out with his eyes closed, a deep sigh coming from him. He’d been so close, with the way your throat clenched around him when you moaned, the wetness of your mouth enveloping him and making him delirious.

Matty can’t do it anymore, so he brings his hand to wrap around himself and finish what you didn’t but your hold comes quickly around his wrist and forces him to let go because you’re not allowing him to.

“No.” You say easily, satisfied entirely when he huffs again but listens. “You’re such a cry baby, aren’t you?” Your hand cups his jaw, making him look up at you and he does with a glare that excites you because all it says is that you’re in trouble. But this time you’re in charge so you give him a pout and offer, “Do you want me?”

There’s not a split of a second where he doubts, Matty is just instantly nodding but when your fingers dig on his face, he lets out a breathless, “Yes.”

Your tongue runs over your bottom lip as a smirk grows on your face. “Good boy,” you praise with a wink and then you lean into him, until your lips are just hovering over his and finish your demands, “If you want me, then you’ll make me cum first.”

His head is spinning from the whiplash of your behaviour still, so he has a hard time trying to figure out what is it that you want him to do but when you continue to run that filthy mouth of yours, he gathers what’s on your mind.

“You love to have that tongue of yours out all the time, don’t you? Why don’t you put it to good use and make me cum all over it.”

There’s no further instruction needed, Matty just shuffles himself up the bed until his head is resting on the pillow and he’s staring at you, impatiently waiting for you to move on top of him.

“Looking a little impatient there.” His hands are unable to stay still, they struggle to find a place to rest when he’s watching you slowly kneel on the bed and crawl up to him. When you reach just beside him, you make a show of straddling him and purposely let your slick, wet cunt graze the tip of his hard cock.

Anticipating his actions, you move forward and leave him more frustrated when he pushes his hips upwards to properly feel your wetness on him. You laugh, your knees coming right beside his shoulders and not calling him out when his hands come to clutch at your thighs.

He takes a look at you and he squirms underneath you when he catches a glimpse of how drenched you are, his throat going dry at the thought of your taste. It’s written all over his face, and it makes you want to laugh even louder.

Your right hand brushes his curls back, some of them stubbornly striking to his forehead from how he’s sweating, and the feeling of your fingers is delicate compared to your continuous attempt to make him suffer but it turns when your fingers tangle in his curls and you pull harshly on his hair. He groans loudly, hips bucking up once again, and you just can’t not call him out for it.

“Eager little slut.” Is what you say before letting yourself come down and his gasp leaves him at the perfect time for he has his lips parted instantly to allow his tongue to meet your core.

The wetness of his tongue meeting your throbbing clit has you seeing stars, and when he flicks it up and down at a relentless pace, you have to hold onto the headboard with the hand that’s not tangled in his hair.

“F-fuck!” You moan out loud when he switches to wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it harshly, your legs trembling in pleasure as that familiar heat envelopes you completely.

The vibrations of a hum he lets out as he’s still sucking make your head hang to look down at him and you smirk with a hazy mind when you find him already staring up at you. He lets your clit go and kisses it quickly before flattening his tongue again and starts lapping at you, until he points it out and pokes into you with it.

You’re mewling as he continues doing that, jaw dropped and fingers in his hair making sure to keep him right there. Not that he wants to move, no. Matty wants you to cum all over his tongue, your taste making him get impossibly harder and if he thinks too much about how it would feel to have you clenching around his cock and not his tongue, he could cum right then and there.

As his tongue fucks into you, his nose rubs on your clit deliciously causing your hips come alive and start rocking against his face. Your orgasm fastly growing and you feel that knot tightening more the faster he goes and you love the feeling of how strongly his fingers are digging into your arse and thigh.

“So good for me.” Your hips are moving erratically as the friction becomes dizzying, your words slipping past your lips easily driven by pleasure, “A good whore for me, my whore.”

Those words make him go insane, and he only thinks he has to prove to you that he indeed is your good whore, only for you. So he goes back to lapping all over you to take in all that you’re giving him until your arousal and his saliva is dripping down his chin, and then switches between sucking and flicking your clit.

This time though, he surprises you when he takes one of his hands and dips two fingers easily inside you, making you curse out loud, “Oh fuck! Matty!” when his fingers curl and press on that spot you love so much.

When he adds a third finger, you’re done for. The stretch is already making you think of how much you want to feel all of him inside you and in pure desperation for that to happen, you let yourself go.

You throw your head back and shut your eyes when a loud moan rips through you as you cum all over him. Legs shaking beside his head when he doesn't let on until you’re the one to move away from his mouth and forcing his fingers to leave you.

On wobbly knees, you let go of the headboard and his hair and manage to move down until you hover over his chest. But before you can think of what you’re doing next, you bring up his slick coated fingers up to your mouth.

A loud moan bounces off the walls when you wrap your lips around his fingers and you taste yourself. You bob your head up and down sucking them clean with your lustful eyes on him, you can barely see the brown of his eyes anymore from how blown his pupils are.

Matty should’ve anticipated your next move, mischief clear in your eyes when you let go of his digits and lean into him, and with your right hand you harshly cup his jaw enough for him to know that you're silently prompting him to open up.

He lets his tongue out, anticipation running straight down to his dick a heavy breath hitting your lips before you spit in his mouth and instruct him to, “Swallow.”

Without a hint of doubt, he follows and you smirk down at him, very pleased at his lack of backchat or complaint. You let him know just how much you’re enjoying this by praising him with a, “Good fucking slut.”

There’s a sparkle in his eye, one that invites you to have some mercy on him so lacing your word with a bit of honey, you sweetly ask him, “You like making me feel good Matty?” still breathless and mind clouded from your orgasm. But moving back down his body you can tell just how much he’s struggling now.

He desperately nods at you, “Love it baby.” and you can’t help but lean down and kiss him. You moan, tasting yourself on his tongue and Matty groans against your lips when you let yourself straddle him properly again.

He can feel how wet you are from what he’d just done to you and you start grinding yourself against him, running yourself up and down the underneath of his cock. You part from the kiss by biting and tugging hard on his lip, and both of your actions make him loudly moan.

But your words definitely have him audibly groaning when you ask him, “Want me to make the ache in your cock go away?” You let your nose brush against his in an eskimo kiss before softly asking him, “Wanna cum inside me baby?”

“Yeah.” He pleads, his hands grasping your hips encouraging you to keep moving, because he can’t take getting nothing anymore.

But you don’t let him continue moving you, instead you stop and pull back a little to ask, “Yes what?”

“Please, baby,” Sounding utterly destroyed he begs, “Please make me cum.”

Smirking, you tilt your head to the side enjoying seeing him so desperate and ask, “You think you’ve been good enough?”

“Please Y/N,” Your boyfriend almost cries, “I have, I have, please.”

“Sit up.” You instruct, pushing yourself up with a hand on his chest and only when his chest once again meets yours, do you raise yourself up to line his aching cock up with your throbbing cunt.

You’re sure Matty’s hands have never gripped you so tightly as you sink down on him, welcoming that pleasurable stretch of feeling his cock inside you again. It feels like an age since he’d been inside you, it doesn’t feel like it had only been 5 days.

Your boyfriend is considerably louder as he moans at the feeling of you wrapped around him. Just to tease, as if you didn’t moan yourself, you praise him, “You make the prettiest sounds moaning in my ear baby.” and you kiss up from his collarbone to his jaw and then a long searing kiss on his lips when you start gently rolling your hips.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, giving you the support you need to start fucking him properly. Lifting your hips enough to drop back down on his cock and the feeling is delightful for both you and him.

Your tits bounce as you go, pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest and the feeling brings shocks of electricity to every end of your body. Your knees start to get tired, already weak after you came on his face, so you sink down completely on him and switch to rolling your hips on him.

Matty watches you intently as your face scrunches up in pleasure when you start moving that way, your clit rubs against his skin with every roll of your hips which leaves you breathless and a moaning mess.

He can feel you clenching hard around him every time he hits that spot as you move which, added to the coincidental friction on your clit, makes the furrow of his brows become deeper as he wills himself to not cum yet - he finds purchase on holding tight onto your hips just to ground himself.

“No one makes you feel this good, do they baby?” You ask through half closed eyes, the feeling of utter bliss coursing through you as you carry on moving, “I’m the only one who makes you feel this fucking good.”

Your movements are erratic now, getting lost in the motion of him hitting that spot inside you over and over and the way he’s gripping you like you might disappear. There’s no doubt in your mind that there will be bruises on your hips from the way his fingers are digging into you so tightly, and you fucking love the possessive nature to it, even though it’s still you in control.

“Just you, god just you baby.” Matty admits, his eyes closed as he tries the hardest to grasp onto the last bit of restraint he has, “Y/N please.”

“You wanna cum Matty?” You ask, and he nods and pleads pathetically, mumbling things you can’t even make out so you tell him, “Beg for it.”

“Please, baby please.” He gives in without a second thought, “Need you. You feel so good. I can’t-” He chokes out, trying his best to wait for your command, but he’s so on edge that he can’t even manage to look at you for more than a second, his head hanging as he tries to hold on.

Your hand comes to cup his jaw, guiding him so you can see him properly, “Let me see those cute little faces you make.” And just to make it a bit harder for him, you’re bouncing on his cock again.

Using your pelvic floor, you clench purposefully when you rise up off him which has Matty choking on the hot air between you. You smirk, loving seeing him like this and you continue, until you tell he can’t take it anymore, he’s holding off and you know it.

So you finally give in and tell him, “Cum for me Matty.” and you keep a steady pace and watch as he falls apart beneath you. The long, guttural moan that leaves his lips has your jaw dropping, the noise alone turning you on more than you thought was possible.

You ride out his orgasm while continuing to chase yours and it takes just a bit of attention on your clit for you to cum around him. He whimpers when your cunt flutters around him, overly sensitive after the elongated edging.

“Did so good for me baby.” You grin with hazy eyes, breathless as you come down from your high, and you cup his jaw and softly kiss him.

He kisses you back sweetly, and he prolongs it not wanting it to be over at all. His heart feels like twice its size in his chest, he wonders how he aches for you even when you’re right there in his arms, kissing him.

It seems like time slows for the kiss, but even then Matty doesn’t think it’s long enough. You’re both grinning like drunk fools in love when your noses brush over each other’s in a cute eskimo kiss before you both decide that a shower is needed.

Under the warm water, both of you don’t really let each other go. Mumbles of, “Obsessed with you.” are uttered against the others skin and it makes Matty’s heartache.

How he’s managed to get you to agree to be his girlfriend is something beyond his comprehension. Your presence in his life has changed so many of his desires in a matter of a few months, and that is still a big revelation that he continues to uncover as the days go by. Matty realises that he’s never felt this way about anyone before. No one compares to you, and he’s sure no one ever will.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: HOPE BOTH HANDS REMAINED FIRMLY ON YOUR PHONES READING THIS CHAPTER! 😂😂😂😂😂 Lolllllllllllll 💀 Yeah I think me and @-alovesreading​ should probably repent again for writing this lmfao. Really hope you enjoyed it! Tour comes next and its going to be interestingggggggg, what do you think is going to happen? Thanks again for reading, see you for the next one xx

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[bloodisonurtongue]

BABY / MATTY HEALY X READER

a/n: these photos make a giggle I won’t lie, anyways this was cute to write even tho it’s rlly shit. I love stories where they find out they’re having a baby I think they’re so cute. I’d like to do a part where they tell the guys as well

this was slightly proofread but I got lazy at the end as well 😔 ALSO FIRST (posted) STORY WOO

c/w: vomiting, pregnancy, pregnancy tests, brief mentions of sex??

Y/N hadn't felt quite right all day, for the last week actually. She chalked it up to eating too much food, pushing her limits and not getting enough rest or hydration as well. But when she woke up in the middle of the night, she knew it was something more than indigestion. She rushed herself to the bathroom and barely made it before she was down on her hands and knees, heaving uncontrollably into the toilet.

When she was finished, she felt thoroughly exhausted. She sat back against the bathroom wall and closed her eyes. she heard the soft rustle of her bed sheets and sighed knowing she had woken Matty up.

she heard the whisper of his voice as he walked towards their shared bathroom “darling are you okay?” she could hear the concern and tiredness as he spoke, she felt bad for waking him up, knowing he needed the sleep considering this was one of the very few days he had off tour.

y/n looked at the door as he walked in, way to exhausted from throwing up to answer him at the moment, she just looked at him and groaned

Matty walked over to her and sat next to her on the cold bathroom tiles as he wrapped her in his arms, y/n dug her face into his chest and let out a soft cry. Matty had asked her how she felt, after she explained her symptoms to him, he began to suspect the same thing she had been afraid to think of. he gently grabbed her chin, making her look at him before he asked softly “do you think you could be pregnant darlin” she looked as if she was about to cry, what if she was pregnant? would he happy? she knows she would be even if it was unplanned. would the guys be happy? what if they all felt like she’d be interrupting their tour by having a baby?

matty could practically hear her overthinking in her head, so trying to knock her out of her thoughts he spoke again “darling, it’s okay” he gently rubbed her back before asking “Do you want me to get a pregnancy test?”

Y/N, too tired to speak, simply nodded. Matty gave her a squeeze and kissed her on the crown of her head “do you wanna go lay in bed for a bit or do you wanna sit here?” y/n slowly shook her head before saying she wanted to be back in bed

matty slowly helped her up and got her back into bed, covering her with the blankets and making sure she was comfortable before giving her a soft kiss on the lips and again on the crown of her head before telling her he’d be back in 10 minutes.

not even 10 minutes later, y/n heard the front door open and gently shut before hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, she was tired but was far too scared to take the pregnancy test she knew matty was about to give her to fall asleep in the few minutes he was gone.

the bedroom door opened and closed again quickly, her eyes were still shut as she felt mattys hand on her side, rubbing softly “are you awake darling?” he said, adoration dripping from his voice as he looked at y/n who looked all too peaceful laying comfortably on their bed, he knew she was scared of taking the test, but they needed to know the answer to what they were thinking.

slowly opening her eyes y/n looked up at matty, eyes still half closed, she watched as his smile grew even bigger as her eyes opened “do you wanna take it now baby? we can wait a bit if you’d like” matty softly whispered, reaching up slightly to tuck the loose hair hanging in her face behind her ears.

y/n sighed “I think it’s better we do it now so we know” she spoke softly as she closed her eyes again before opening them again. Matty gently took her hand to help her get out of bed before they headed to their bathroom.

Matty took the box out of the bag he had in his hand, opening the box and taking out the test and the instructions before sliding them onto the counter in-front of y/n. he gently placed a hand on her back before rubbing it gently as she quickly read all the instructions “do you want me to go outside while you do it darling?” he softly questioned her, not wanting to make her feel like she had to have him in the room with her as she did the test.

she looked at him, he could practically see the nerves in her eyes “yeah just while I pee on it, you can come in right after” she said, voice wavering as she spoke. Matty nodded and smiled softly at her before giving her a kiss on the head “I’ll be just outside” she nodded back at him and watched slightly as he walked out, closing the door softly.

she used the test, and placed it back onto the counter, face down, so her and matty couldn’t see when the results were shown, she thought that he wanted to share the moment together. she opened the door for matty to come in before looking at herself in the mirror, feeling her eyes sting slightly as tears began to form on her lower lash line.

Matty gently wrapped his arms around her waist before settling his head on her shoulder, and whispering softly into her ear that everything would be okay.

she sniffled a few times before she spoke “what if I am pregnant matty, what are we gonna do?” she looked down at the tiled floor as tears started to fall gently, a few of them falling onto mattys arms around her waist.

matty kissed her head gently “if you are pregnant, it’s gunna be okay darling, I’m going to be here for every step of the way no matter what and so will the guys. we’ll do whatever you want to do. if you wanna keep it we’ll keep it and if you don’t you dont need to feel like you have too okay baby?” He softly whispered to her, leaning his chin on her shoulder again and leaving a few kisses there.

y/n slowly turned around in mattys hold, looking up at him making eye contact, a few tears continue to slowly go down her cheeks as she speaks “if I am pregnant, even if now isn’t a good time to have a baby, I want to keep it” her voice breaking a bit as she brings her hands up to cup mattys face gently.

she swears she’s never seen matty smile bigger then he is now as he leans down to catch her lips in a loving but intimate kiss before matty slowly moved his hands down and picked her up before placing her on the bathroom counter, continuing with the kiss until they eventually ran out of breath and had to pull away from each other

once their breathing got back to normal they both smiled brightly at each other before remembering the test next to them, and that they should check it now.

“you know the test is probably done by now” y/n chuckled at him as she placed a quick kiss to his lips again “let’s look then shall we?” he said smiling even wider at her as she quickly got down off of the counter and stood infront of where the pregnancy test lied. Matty placed his hand on the back of hers so they could pick up the test together as he stood behind her, giving her a peck on the shoulder before asking her if she was ready to look at it.

y/n nodded slowly, the nerves from before coming back again, she was about to find out if she was pregnant, she was terrified but elated to find out. She looked back at matty for confirmation to pick up the test, he nodded immediately and she could see the tears slightly welling up in his eyes, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he slightly wrapped his hand around hers, her fingers began to shakily pick up the test turning it around

two red lines.

she was pregnant.

y/n felt a happy sob about to come out of her mouth. feeling mattys tears continuously fall and lightly land on her shoulder, a few rolling down and going down her shirt. She quickly turned around and looked at his face as tears began to flow out of her eyes too “matty baby we’re gunna be having a baby” she laughs lightly as she puts the test down again before reaching up and running her fingers through his hair as he leaned forward to place his head on her chest.

He muttered into her skin, she could barely hear what he was saying but somehow made it out “we’re having a baby, a fucking baby can you believe that?” He quickly picked his head off of her chest, looking at her with wide eyes “there’s a baby in you, a mini me or you, in you.” his mouth dropped in shock “I put a baby in you, oh my god” y/n let out a laugh at his antics “yes you did darling”

later that night as y/n slowly drifted to sleep, she could feel matty rubbing her stomach softly, and speaking to it as if the small baby growing inside her could hear him yet “I’m gunna spoil you so much, more then I already spoil your mommy. I already love you so much, you’re gunna have so much fun with all your aunts and uncles, and we’re gunna be one big happy family.”

In that moment, Y/N knew that she was truly happy. Matty made her feel safe, secure, and loved - and she was exactly where she belonged.

#matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 #matty 1975 #matty healy imagine #matty healy 1975 #the 1975 imagine #the 1975 fic #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fanfic

[hrryshoney]

soon you will be mine, but i want you now

matty healy x reader

A/N: the picture? i’m just a sleaze, sorry! yeah this is part 2 to my previous matty fic! again, i apologize for any switching perspectives. lmk if i’m bad at writing smut.. honest reviews pls!

warnings: smut, literally sex lmao. idiots in love, are they gonna fuck while he’s sick? …sorry, but it wasn’t that bad in the first place! the drama queen likes to play it up. very wordy. bad writing..?😕

You and Matty were friends. Best friends. Well, maybe more than that now. Because you didn’t know any friends who did this with each other, best or not.

Matty’s lips were on yours. Moving firmly against one another. You were in a daze, it seems, because you don’t know how or when you began straddling his lap. Or maybe he put you there? Either way.

He was kissing you with such fervor that it made your whole body hot. He bit down on your lip, and you let out a truly pathetic gasp. This gave him an opening, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. You could feel his smile against your lips.

Matty Healy was going to drive you insane, if he hadn’t already.

You pulled back and put your hands on his chest, breathing heavily. “Need air, Matty. Jesus, you got the lungs of a swimmer or some shit?” You move your neck back farther.

His lips chase yours. He pants, “Just got a lot of practice.” He attaches his lips to your neck. “Wanna practice on you, now.” You feel his teeth sink in, a little above your collarbone. His mouth sucks on the spot.

“You’re- you’re gonna leave a mark.” Your sentence is finished off with a half whimper/half pant. He’s really affecting you. Who knew suppressing emotions for your best friend would lead to tension filled foreplay?

“Mhm, good. Show ‘em all.” He licks over the spot he just sucked. “Can’t wait to see the mark, been wanting you like this for too long.” This is a Matty you’ve never seen before. Eyes dark, ravenous. His hair is messy atop his head, his chest is rising and falling rapidly. You think you want to become accustomed to this Matty.

“You have?” It’s a genuine question, although a stupid one. He just gave you a hickey and you’re asking if he wants you? Maybe it’s an ego thing, but you just want confirmation. You’ve been pining after him for far too long, and now that you have him.. it’s safe to say you want to keep him.

“You’re an oblivious little thing. I’ve always fancied you. Thought for sure ya noticed. Doesn’t matter, though. Have ya now.” Matty continues his assault on your neck, moving lower and lower now. The neck of his your oversized tee is moving lower with each kiss. “Can I take this off you, darling?” His eyes search yours for consent.

You barely get to finish your nod as he yanks the shirt over your head. You had forgone a bra today. Thinking you were only taking care of Matty, and that the tee covered your nipples, you didn’t see the point. Now though, on Matty’s lap, you feel all too exposed.

His eyes are glued to your chest, hands resting on your waist and squeezing the skin every so often. That look in his eyes is going to kill you. But what really does it is the small fuck me that’s whispered under his breath. Your hips give an involuntary roll against his own.

Your whimper makes him look up, you roll your hips again. Matty’s groan sounds too good coming out of his mouth. He tightens his hold on your hips. “Stop moving, yeah? Gonna be a good girl tonight and listen to me?”

Now that, you were not expecting. The moan that rips from your chest is something new. That was uncharted territory, something your old flings had never dabbled into. You didn’t think you were getting dirty talk with Matty. Oh, you were terribly wrong.

“Matty, shit. Please, yes, I’m good.” You didn’t know you had a big submissive side inside of you, but Matty is definitely bringing it out. He rolls his hips up into yours, but his hands restrain you from doing the same.

“Awe, you’re adorable, aren’t you? Just wanna be my good girl? That’s alright, love. You will be.” The snicker that comes along with his smirk is another thing you’re not accustomed to. The condescending tone. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

He picks you up from his lap and lays you back on the bed, into his previous spot. Matty had forgone a shirt, something about how hot he was with the ‘fever’. He was only in some sweats, and he looked good. You were aware of your best friends body, but seeing it this way was something else. His muscles and tattoos made your mouth water.

“Eyes are up here, babe.” He laughs at your awed state. His fingers are gilding up and down your leg, toying with the hem of your shorts. “I can take these off?” He asks for confirmation again, ever the gentleman. You nod.

“No, words. Use your words, please.” He smiles, he really is sick, you think.

“Yes, Matty, please.” Your hips buck up as he fiddles with the hem. Goosebumps have risen on your thigh from his touch.

“Good manners too, aren’t you sweet?” He grabs the waistband of your shorts and begins to pull them down. Slowly. Hauntingly slow. He knows what he’s doing, and you hate it.

You’re left in just your light blue underwear, you think it’s only fair if he strips too. “Can you take your pants off, please? Then we’ll be even.”

He simply does as he’s told, and tugs the gray sweatpants down his leg. He kicks them off to somewhere in the room, but your eyes are glued to his briefs.

Without giving you too much time to ogle, his mouth is glued to your chest. Kissing and touching your breasts. “Feel what you do to me?”

He pushed his bulge into your leg as he continues kissing your chest. “Got me so fuckin’ hard from nothing, like a bloody teenager. You always make me this hard.” He groans into your breast.

“Oh, Matty.” Your response is weak, but it’s the only coherent thing that will come out of your mouth.

“Yeah, love when you say my name. Would fuck my fist and think about ya. Moaning, making those pretty noises for me.” You gasp at that, you didn’t think he thought about you in that way.

You knew you’d done it before, but you would never tell. Those nights where you were aching, and desperately needed relief. Where you would slide your hand between your thighs and pretend it was Matty’s. You never knew the feeling was reciprocated.

“Taste so fucking good. Need a real taste. Can I, love? Can I eat ya?” You knew what he was asking, but you were apprehensive. Every time a guy went down on you, you never came. It was nothing personal, you guessed it just wasn’t your cup of tea.

“Yeah, you- you can, Matty. But if I don’t come, don’t feel some way. Never come when guys eat me out.” You shrugged, though you feel your body ignite from the way he looked at you.

“Shame. Guess they weren’t doin’ it right, darling.” He moves down your body and plants kisses on your stomach as he does so. He keeps going when he reaches the waistband of your panties. He kisses you over them.

Matty sits back on his knees and sees the prominent wet spot on your underwear. He puts his thumb atop it and pushes. You gasp, “Fuck, Matty!” clearly not ready for the stimulation.

“All that for me?” And though it’s a rhetorical question, you still nod. “So nice and wet, perfect for me.” He gives you mercy and slides your panties down your legs.

He’s at the edge of the bed now, just laying and staring at your pussy. You almost close your legs out of humiliation, but his strong hands rest on your thighs to pry them open. “Don’t run from me, darling. It’s really a sin to hide this pretty cunt. Really a shame no one’s taken care of her properly.” He runs his finger up your slit, collecting your wetness and pressing on your clit.

Your face heats from his vulgar words, and you let out a whine. Your hands cover your face. “Matty… please.”

“Aw, c’mon. Don’t be shy, ‘m just being honest.” His face gets close to your pussy and you feel his breath against it. The whine you let out is music to his ears. Matty licks a thick stripe, and you let out a guttural moan.

His tongue is all over in the best way possible. He’s sucking on your clit and it’s making you see stars. Your hands fly to his hair and you tug. “Mm, sorry. Don’t wanna hurt ya, just feels good.” You rub his head after your apology.

He speaks, and the vibrations against your cunt are sending you over the edge. “Tug all you want, don’t mind.” You let out a loud moan, and he laughs.

He moves his hand from holding your thigh and sticks one finger in your hole, continuing to suck your clit. Your hips buck from the internal stimulation. His finger moving in and out of you, and his lips around your clit is.. very pleasant, to say the least. Even more so when he adds a second finger.

You let out a sigh of pleasure. Matty curls his fingers. His are so big, yours just don’t compare. 2 of his feels like 3 of yours. He detached his lips from your clit and lays his tongue flat on it. You feel a jolt through your body, the pressure is building.

“Oh! Hm, Matty, I’m-‘m gonna…” You pant out and close your eyes tight, preparing for your orgasm. But it doesn’t come. You don’t cum. That’s because Matty has ceased all movements, moved away from your pussy entirely and is staring at you with a smile on his face.

“Matty! What the fuck, I was just about to cum. Are you serious?” You’re looking at him and pouting, a crease in your brow. He thinks you look positively adorable.

“Terribly sorry, darling.” He pouts back in faux sympathy. “But if you’re gonna cum, it’ll be ‘round my cock, yeah?” He moves to slide his briefs down his legs.

I feel myself nodding absentmindedly. Agreeing, or ready to agree with him. Ready to be compliant for him. And when he takes off his briefs… it really is a sight to see.

Matty’s cock is pretty. Of course it is, just like everything else about Matty. And right now, the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. He’s hard, long and thick. You can see veins popping out, it looks like it hurts.

Your mouth moves before you have chance to think about what your saying, “Want me to suck you off?” and your eyes widen as the words spill out.

“Jesus, what am I gonna do with you?” He asks, and smiles as he looks down at you. Kneeling on the bed, now. Slotted between your thighs. Almost where you need him. “Not today, darling. But thank you for the offer, ‘m sure your mouth feels amazing.”

‘Not today’, the phrase gives you even more hope that this is not a one off thing. That you and your best friend will progress together, and this isn’t just a hookup that will be brushed under the rug.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay? Tell me what you like and what you don’t.” He grabs onto your hands, and it all feels so tender. You’re glad Matty’s in your life.

When he thrusts in, you can’t hold the moan. He can’t hold his either. Matty’s noises are heaven sent. He sounds so good. Gravelly and whiny, but domineering. And with your whining in the back, it all sounds like the perfect soundtrack.

“You- you’re so big, Matty. Don’t know how it fits.” If you were in your right mindset, you would never inflate his ego like this. You know it’s big enough as it is. Oh, well. At least he’s endowed enough to back it up.

His smirk says enough. “Yeah? Filling you up good? This tight cunt? So good f’me. Perfect, like you were made for me.” He continues to pull in and out of you at an unrelenting pattern.

“Oh, God! Mhm, right there, please.” You can’t do much of anything else than cry out for him.

“Not God, just me.” He grins as he keeps thrusting into you, the sound of skin slapping fills the room. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” His mouth is right by your ear, you feel feral.

You clench around him. Hearing him pant your name is just the cherry on top. You feel the pressure building again. “Matty, so so close. Please.” Your whimpers and pleas don’t fall on deaf ears. Especially not when Matty brings his thumb around to press on your clit.

“Oh, Matty! Yes, yes please!”

“That’s right. My fucking girl. C’mon, be good for me. Cum. Cum all over my cock, angel. You can do it.”

All you can do is yell Matty’s name. You finally feel that release. Your vision goes white and Matty brings his hand to rest loosely on your neck. He’s still pounding into you, and you’re getting very overstimulated very fast.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot. So good for me, whole time. My good little girl, I’m close, shit.” Matty is groaning and panting in your ear, his pace never wavering. You think he has too much stamina. Then, you think that’s a good thing, a really good thing.

“Matty, please. Cum for me, please.” And you don’t care how pathetic you sound, begging for him to finish. You need him that bad.

“Where- where do ya want it?”

You don’t even have to think, “In-inside me, on the pill. Please, cum inside me?”

And Matty’s guttural groan is worth it. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me. Cum inside ya, fill you up real nice. That’s what you want, right babe?”

You nod your head so much that it could fall off your shoulders, and Matty’s thrusts are slowing down. You feel his dick twitch inside of you. You feel his cum dripping down your thighs. Matty pulls out, and you know you’re gonna be sore tomorrow morning.

He’s just staring between your legs, and then, “So pretty, should keep you like this all the time.” he takes two fingers and shoves them inside of you, pushing his cum back in.

Your back arches off the bed, “Fuck me, Matty.”

He collapses into the spot next to me, and pulls me into his chest. “Already did that one, love.” We both let out a giggle.

You two lay there in comfortable silence for a couple moments. His arm is around your body, fingers drawing circles on your bicep. Your hand falls to his chest, tracing his tattoos.

You figure you have to break the silence first. “So… can I be incredibly cliche with the ‘what are we?’ line, or do I need new material?”

Matty let’s out a loud laugh at that. He plants a kiss to the top of your forehead. “Y/N, honestly I’ve liked you for the better half of 8 years. If you want to be my girlfriend, then I’d be happy to be your boyfriend.” The words boyfriend and girlfriend make you giddy. You feel like a schoolgirl on her first date.

“‘Course I’d be your girlfriend, Matty. Don’t know if you could tell, but I’ve liked you too. Obviously.” You giggle a little. There’s a light and airy feeling in your chest. This is good.

“Mhm, take you out on a proper date after this. Dinner, movie, wherever you want to go. Whatever you want to do. Suppose I did it out of order. Fucked ya first, then wooing you on a date, yeah?” Matty chuckles a little, rubbing your arm. You laugh, too.

“You woo me everyday, Matty.”

“Careful, flattery gets you everywhere with me. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You smile. Matty smiles. You’re both glowing with happiness. This time, you lean in.

#divider cred: @cafekitsune #matty healy smut #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty healy blurb #matty healy fic #matty healy x you #matty healy oneshot #the 1975 smut

[lottiecrabie]

you know how lorde brought jack out at one of her shows and he played the guitar while she sang and they were very touchy feely and just gazing at each other the entire time? imagine a blurb like that on gto readers tour when her and matty are just friends now but there is still definitely underlying tension the entire time

i Know where this blurb idea came from I see you🫵

the screams rain over you, a torrential wave of love that you can’t help grinning at. you sit there, legs hanging off the stage, gripping your mic in silent awe. the world ripples in front of you, bodies of people — real, tangible, knowledgeable of your lyrics better than you sometimes — face you. the room seems larger, like entire cities could fit between these walls, like everyone you’ve ever known could be smiling back at you.

you use the energy like fuel. pretend your heart isn’t racing up your throat as you tilt up the mic. ‘i have a surprise for you guys,’ you say, teasing, confessional. another wave of screams, delighted in just being special. you laugh. ‘there’s a really special person here tonight. the producer of this album, my dear friend—‘ you barely need to let the name out, high-pitched cries already drowning it out, but still; ‘matty healy!’

he comes from backstage and he cracks the world open. stagelight transforms in soft sun rays, shining over your head until sweat pearls your forehead. strawberry ice cream lingers on your tongue. the faint smell of cigarette comes through, burning in the heat. he’s summer, even in the thick of this december month. you have to blink away, blind.

there’s a part of you way that will always be in august, and it throbs when he’s around you.

matty sits down beside you, offered a guitar by some worker. he waves to the crowd, working his charm easily. you have no sun to blame this flush on. you hope the stage makeup hides it, stop yourself from pressing the cold microphone to your cheeks and draw attention to it.

‘hello,’ you say. ‘not too tired?’

‘never,’ he answers, though it’s lost to the ears of the crowd, micless that he is.

‘i warmed the crowd up for you.’

‘you’re—‘ you aim the mic his way, graciously allowing the public into this moment, ‘—too sweet.’ you want to laugh. your chest tightens, in the habitual ways it still hasn’t learned not to.

something in you is angry that he’d dare say it here, in front of anyone, in front of everyone. not because he’s sharing anything personal, anything momental; because he’s not. to him, too sweet is any other phrase, and you’re left reeling from the slap he doesn’t know he gave.

‘we made pygmalion two summers ago, in this very city,’ you say conversationally, addressing the crowd. ‘i lived here for four months and so, forever, london will be the intrinsic pygmalion city. i don’t think i can walk any street without being washed with it.’

‘i live here and there’s still places i can’t visit without being reminded of pygmalion,’ matty says in the cadence of a joke. you chuckle for him, ever gracious.

‘there’s still wines i can’t drink,’ you attempt to volley back, but it starts feeling a little too raw, a little too real. you get the uncomfortable impression of being under a microscope, and you clutch the microphone with the need to swallow it all back.

matty steals the mic from your hands, eyes wrinkling with mirth. ‘this one used to say she didn’t like red wine.’

you roll your eyes, taking it back. ‘yes, well, i just—‘

again, matty’s fingers brush yours, angling the mic back to him. ‘—never drank the correct sort, yes, i told you so.’

‘stop taking my mic!’ you laugh, giving a look to the public as you gesture to him. ‘it’s a wonder we finished any song with all of this.’ you sit up straighter, attempting to put the show back on track. ‘and yet we did. you might know this one, it’s called galatea.’

again, a new wave of excited screams wash you. galatea is always a highlight of the night. the broken lyrics that come back to you, sung and cried, tears filling the eyes of the first row until you have to look away. this time, you don’t even attempt to watch them, instead turning to face matty, crossed-legged.

his fingers strum the chords familiarly; you croon the first words. you get projected on a sofa, red lights drenching the two of you, the stars shining just for you. he’s so known you might choke up. you have moved on, you promise yourself you have, but what can you do with all the knowledge you gain of someone? where do the memories go when you’ve stopped needing to play them back every night just to fall asleep. they can’t cease to exist, yet they can’t fit in the palms of your hands either.

his eyebrows tilt as he concentrates, bobbing his head. a curl strikes his forehead and you stop yourself from reaching up and brushing it away. parts of you wake up, called to attention. the need to wish and hope and yearn; to exist in the possible, nearly-not but just enough that it’s exquisitely painful. you think of new lyrics, you hate yourself for it.

the chorus cries out of you. you scoot closer, sing it to him. you’re back in a booth, angry eyes pinning him down vengefully. matty glances up and there must be something in you that has quietened, that has folded over and surrendered. he doesn’t look away from your stare. he doesn’t get overwhelmed with the weight of it.

your hand flies to his knee, as if to make sure he’s real. he is; flesh and muscle and that stubborn heart of his, beating somewhere far away from you.

for all the sun he represents, he doesn’t burn anymore. it’s a soft sting, like another memory buzzing in you. your fingers retreat. mournfully, you sing the next lyric.

you whisper the last words out, smiling faintly. his fingers halt. he stops suddenly; he’s there and then he’s not, per usual. the cries roar back to you. for all the worlds that exist in this very room, they always seem to cease when he’s beside you. a summery cocoon you craft out of nothings, one that’s off somewhere in a london apartment.

you turn back to the crowd, remind yourself of everything that is real too. ‘thank you,’ you whisper to them, a hand to your chest, vaguely bowing. thank you for being there when the ground doesn’t seem to hold you up anymore. you look at him. and then, a grin, waving an arm to him. ‘matty healy, everyone!’

#this is Barely flirty and mostly just rly angsty Sorry😭 #angst #blurb #galatea take one #ask #matty healy x reader

[wreckedandpolemic]

okay first your writing is AMAZING!! second - for a request, white and gold with #5 and #144 please?

sleepy - matty healy

(mdni) in which you just let your boyfriend take care of you. part of the white and gold universe. 964 words.

You’re exhausted when you finally make it to Matty’s place, the long drive back from your university stressful and overwhelming. It’s worth it, though, to be back in Matty’s arms, his heart thudding steady and familiar where his chest presses against yours. “So happy you’re here, angel,” Matty murmurs into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. “So glad I get you all to myself.”

“All yours,” you mumble, teetering precariously on the edge of sleep, swaying unsteadily on your feet when he pulls back.

Matty laughs fondly, steadying you with a hand at your waist. “Go sit down, darling. Dinner’s almost ready,” he promises. You yawn all the way through dinner, dozing off on his shoulder when you curl up to watch a movie. “D’you wanna go to bed, love?” Matty asks softly, and you nod, letting him carry you bridal style up the stairs and set you gently on the bed. “Don’t fall asleep just yet, angel. Won’t be comfy like that.”

He undresses you tenderly, analogous from the usual frantic, lust-filled way he takes your clothes off, but he can’t hold back his choked-off little gasp at the sight of your red lace underwear. “D’you like it?” you murmur, faint traces of heat flickering to life in your belly at the way his gaze roves over your body. “Dressed up all pretty for you. M’sorry I’m too tired to let you enjoy it,” you pout.

“Oh, princess, I’m enjoying it plenty, trust me,” he chuckles, fingers skating adoringly over your skin. “So pretty, baby.” You squirm needily under his touch, hips rocking unconsciously upwards. “Oh, not too tired, hm, angel?”

You giggle. “S’okay, I don’t need it. It’ll be better in the morning, anyway. Can get you off too.” Matty presses a finger to your lips, shushing you gently.

“Don’t need you to, baby. Just wanna get you all fucked-out and happy for be before you go to sleep, okay? Lay back and let me take care of you, yeah? I’ll do the work. Let Daddy make you feel good.”

You nod, letting your eyes flutter closed as Matty drags your panties down your legs, throwing them over his shoulder to the floor. Your legs jolt as his lips meet your core, heat coiling in your belly. He laps at you slowly, indulgently, the slow pace exactly what your body needs. “Thank you for letting me do this. Missed this sweet cunt so much, baby. Couldn’t wait to get my hands on you again,” he murmurs, kissing your thighs softly, reverently.

“I love you,” you whimper, threading a hand loosely into Matty’s curls as he buries his tongue in your cunt. You clench around him, his fingers digging into your thighs as he moans into your cunt, the vibration buzzing gloriously up your spine. Pleasure drips slowly down your insides, thick and sticky in your lungs. Your hips grind down against his face, soft moans tumbling from your lips.

“Love you too, princess,” Matty promises, licking broad, flat stripes over your cunt. Your head is hazy, stuffed with cotton wool, your thoughts silenced by tiredness that has your eyelids drooping and bliss that soaks deep into your bones. Matty brings his fingers up to circle over your clit, pleasure sparking under your skin and kissing its way up your body, winding up your spine and buzzing at the base of your skull. “My sweet girl,” he praises, kissing your clit and sliding two fingers into you, your cunt full so fast you choke on a gasp. “So fucking pretty. Such a good girl.”

The praise slides gorgeously around your brain, sickly-sweet in the back of your throat as Matty thrusts his fingers in and out of you, slow and deep and fucking delicious. You don’t think you’ve ever been so relaxed, practically melting into a puddle that drips out over Matty’s lips and chin. “Feels s’good, Daddy,” you slur out, body limp with ecstasy. “Always make me feel so good.”

Matty smirks up at you, curling his fingers to hit that perfect spot inside you, sucking on your clit in the same moment. Your body wracks with shudders, your orgasm taking you by surprise as you writhe against his tongue. He covers your thighs and cunt in soft, sweet kisses, worshipping your skin and letting you ride out the aftershocks before he slides his fingers out of you. “My pretty baby,” he murmurs, wiping his fingers on his sheets and crawling up the bed to lay next to you, still fully dressed. He pulls you in for a kiss, the taste of you sweet on his tongue. Carefully, he unhooks your bra and pulls one of his seemingly ubiquitous band tees over your head, smoothing your hair and kissing your forehead softly. “There you go, darling. Can go to sleep now. Thank you for lettin’ me make you feel good, angel.”

“B-But what about you?” you murmur, reaching down to palm his hardness through his jeans.

“We can worry about me later. It’s all about you right now,” Matty promises, pulling his own shirt off and kicking out of his jeans. He curls up next to you on the bed, tracing idle patterns in your skin as you mull over the words. “Go to sleep, darling. I can see you thinkin’, stop it. Don’t have to think if you don’t wanna when you’re with me, remember?”

You tuck yourself into his arms, resting your head against his chest as sleep threatens to overwhelm you. “Can fuck me in the morning if you want,” you murmur sleepily. “Even if m’still asleep. Wanna be good f’you.”

Matty rubs slow, soothing circles into your hip with one thumb, lulling you into dreams. “Always good for me, baby. Always my sweet girl. I love you, angel.”

#i want this sooo bad im literally the sleepiest girl alive #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #the 1975 #matty healy #writing #smut #smut prompt fills #request #white and gold

[abiiors]

red lines - pt. 2 ║// matty healy x reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a late christmas/new year's gift for you lot but oh well, consider this an early valentine's day gift now lol. this is sad but also smutty which seems to be my favourite thing to write so enjoy ♡ cw: angst, crying (so much of it my god) (seriously, matty cries after sex like a loser) and arguments, a briefly sick baby (she has a cold) fucked up relationships in general, typos, probably cringe idk. wc: 6.5k here's part 1

matty’s red rimmed eyes stare back at you. 

if it weren’t for your baby’s soft babbling grounding you, you would have slammed the door in his face the second you opened it. before he even had the chance to get a word in. not like he’s said anything yet—he’s busy looking from mia to you and back to mia who’s strapped to your chest, face away from him. 

his daughter. he doesn’t even know what his daughter looks like. 

your heart hammers in your chest as you look at him, take him in properly. he looks like he’s been frozen in time—the same man you left almost a year ago, maybe with a few more greys on his head now. but everything about him harshly pulls you back in time. 

looking at him after all this time is like having the last piece of a puzzle click in place. 

“hi,” he says, and looks at the back of mia’s head for a moment. his hands twitch at his sides and matty shoves them in his pockets quickly. 

you clear your throat. “hi.”

the silence that lingers is so awkward that even the baby senses it. she fusses and lets out a soft whine and you know you only have a few moments before the whine turns into a full cry. 

“come in,” you offer and he nods. 

the door shuts behind him with a deafening creek and the silence returns with a vengeance. 

you watch matty as he looks around him. you wonder how it all looks through his eyes—a house that’s neither too clean, nor too messy, mia’s toys on the sofa, her bottle on the kitchen table, half finished. the half cooked pancake in the pan. and then he looks at the baby. 

you watch him carefully, look at the way his eyes shine so brightly and the subtle tremble of his lips. matty takes his hand out of his pocket and reaches out. about to touch her blanket. but you step back on instinct and his hand lingers in the air before falling at his side, limp and useless. 

“what do you want, matty?” you ask, your voice more steady than you expected.

he swallows harshly. “i wanted–i thought i’d…”

“you thought…?”

he squares his shoulder and straightens his spine, gathering courage just like you’ve seen him do so many times in the past. 

“i wanted to see her. mia. it’s a beautiful name…”

“who told you her name?”

you don’t know where the snapping, harsh tone comes from but matty flinches regardless. you don’t give him a chance to answer though. you know who told him her name. 

“it was adam, wasn’t it?”

“please don’t be mad at him,” matty tries hastily and takes a step forward before coming to an abrupt stop. “i begged until… yeah, i begged him to tell me.”

“look i…” he continues, “i messed up, okay? i messed up big time. i've spent every day regretting it. i miss both of you, and i can't—”

“you miss her?” your voice rings out around the room. 

mia in your arms is the only thing stopping you from yelling as your entire body shakes with so much rage. you try to keep the tears at bay, you really do but they fall one after the other. land softly on her head. 

“you miss her, do you, matty? do you even know what she looks like?”

he shakes his head and looks down in shame. 

“no? you didn’t beg your best friend for a photo?” your voice has taken a mocking quality—ugly and cruel. words meant to hurt him, to damage him. words that might give him a taste of a fraction of what you went through. 

“please, i—”

“get out.”

“no, listen to me! please, just—”

“leave!”

matty stumbles back and mia breaks into a cry. whatever possessed you to yell like that leaves instantly, zapping away every ounce of strength in your body. your knees shake with the effort of standing upright. your arms tighten around the baby. 

matty wipes his eyes quickly and makes his way out the door. 

it’s the thud that breaks the last of your restraint. quietly, you sit on the floor, soothing her for what feels like hours. trying to calm yourself by breathing in her scent. she’s safe. you’re both safe. 

you don’t need a third. 

you only need her. 

matty doesn’t give up. 

although he doesn’t show up again in person, a box shows up at the door—one addressed to both you and mia. it feels heavy in your hands and something rattles inside. 

as curious as you are, you set it on the dining table and go about your day. 

you don’t need any of this, whatever he’s sent is probably useless. it’s silly and meant to break down your defenses. you’re sure of it. 

still, every time you pass by it, the box seems to wink at you. so you chuck it in a random drawer—one where you keep the extra nappies, the backup-backup-backup ones—and breathe a sigh of relief.

relief that’s almost comically short-lived.

the days pass, and life falls back into its routine—diapers, bottles, and the sweet sound of mia's coos and giggles. the box from matty remains tucked away in the drawer, almost forgotten. you convince yourself that whatever he sent doesn't matter; you've built a new life for you and mia, and that's all that matters.

it's a rainy afternoon when mia decides to unleash chaos upon her last clean onesie. a cosmic fucking joke really that she should need her backup-backup-backups when you’ve almost managed to forget about the box. but there it is, sitting atop the neatly stacked diapers—a plain cardboard box, tied with a simple piece of twine.

you take it out and set it on the kitchen table. then you brew yourself an extra strong cup of coffee and sit in front of it, almost like it’s a staring match…

who’s going to break first?

but obviously it’s a cardboard box, it stays fucking still no matter how hard you wish for it to burst into flames. so you take a sip of coffee and begin undoing the twine. your hands tremble as you lift the lid. your heartbeat quickens. 

first you see a layer of tissue papers covering something and then under it, a plain envelope with your name written on it in matty’s handwriting. 

inside it is a piece of paper, slightly torn at the edges. folded and refolded a million times. 

hi, my love please come home i’m so sorry i don't expect you to forgive me. i messed up. horribly. there’s no other way to put it. and there's no excuse for the pain i've caused. i understand if you never want to see me again, but please, i’m begging you to let me see her just once. just to let her get to know her father. so that i can get to know my daughter.  i know what i did is unforgivable but it’s like half a piece of my heart has been missing since you walked out i let you walk out.  i don’t expect you to let me back into your lives but please let me hold her just once.  i would also like to set up a small trust fund in her name if you give me permission. i won’t have any control over it, but i want her to have something from me for anything she might want in the future.  i’m leaving that decision up to you.  there are post cards in here that i wrote for you and for her when things got really really bad. it’s not an excuse for how i behaved but some day i hope we could be together friends again.  till then just know that not a moment goes by when i don’t wish i could go back in time and stop myself from till then i hope you know how incredibly sorry i am. i hope you know that i will always have nothing but love and respect for you. and for mia.  love,  matty

the weight of the emotions threatens to suffocate you. the scratched-out bits from the letter are just slightly visible. not really enough for you to make it out properly but whatever it says has to be too personal, right? 

you sink further into the chair, and tears blur your vision. the postcards are right there under the letter—a hundred or so—his heart bared to you. all of the best and worst parts. all the ugly ones too. 

and then there’s the trust fund that he wants to set up. 

you know it’s the smart thing to do. you can’t have emotions clouding your judgement when it comes to securing her future. and he said he won’t have any control over it so that’s good, right…?

and yet a part of you hesitates to pick up the cards and read his words. 

everything feels too raw, too vulnerable and honest. 

everything feels too much.

you think and you think and you think for the next few days. 

all you do is think about him and the postcards and the trustfund. you even have a little spat with your mum when she says it’s a good idea. you accuse her of playing the devil’s advocate but ultimately she’s right. 

this is not about you. this is about your daughter. 

so you let her bathe mia and get her ready for bed, and then you pick up your phone and open the old text thread. 

have an amazing night, babe. break a leg.

the text sits there innocently. the words are still the same—casual and loving and normal and almost like they were written in a foreign language. you quickly wipe up your tears and delete the old thread before there’s time to second-guess it. 

gone. winked out of existence just like that. 

and then you open a fresh new thread. 

hi matty, hope you’re well.  got your letters hello matty hey. i got the box. can we talk?

it amazes you how much back and forth you have to do for a simple message. how many times you talk yourself out of sending it. but once it’s gone. it’s gone. 

half a minute later, three dots dance in response. 

hey, would love to. next sunday?

sunday works. that’s exactly a week from now. enough time for you to prepare mentally. it’s also a day after your mum gets back from her mini holiday so you can just leave mia with her without having to worry about bringing her with you. 

sunday works. see you then. 

and that’s the end of that. you switch your phone off and vow to not think about him till then. if only it were that easy…

three days later you wake up to a shrill cry coming from the nursery. 

hastily you check the time, 2:37 am, and run to check up on mia, heart thudding in your chest. she’s usually such a calm baby. she sleeps so well through the night and yet the closer you get the louder her cries get. 

the more you feel fear grip your chest. 

“oh my love, what’s wrong? what’s wrong, baby?”

she continues to wail even after you check her diapers and feel her cot for any wetness. it’s only when you gently touch her cheek do you realise how warm she feels. heat radiates from her little body and panic sets in as you rush to the kitchen to grab the thermometer. the digital display confirms your fear—a fever.

not very high but still, she’s sick for the first time in her life. 

“you’ve got a fever sweet girl,” you coo and clear your dry throat. 

fuck! calling your mum’s not an option. calling the gp’s also not an option. 

her loud cries make your heart squeeze in pain. rocking doesn’t help. strapping her to your naked chest helps only for about ten minutes until she’s screaming once again. 

you try a bath, hoping the vapour would clear her cold a little but all it does it give you a headache. 

your head feels like it’s about to burst open, blood splattering on the walls and everywhere else as mia continues to cry until her whole body is pink and red from the effort. how does a tiny baby have this much strength in her lungs? you feel her forehead for the tenth time—warm, and you wipe away her runny nose. but no amount of cooing and rocking her helps. 

“calm down, darling,” you try to shush her, a note of begging in your voice. your temples throb and mia wails right next to your ears.

you think maybe singing to her would calm her down but any more exertion and the black dots in your vision continue to swim around. 

fuck. 

you need help. and your mum is not an option. absolutely no one you can call at 3:30 in the morning. 

absolutely no one who will even answer. 

but that’s not true is it…

with shaky hands you pick up your phone and dial his number. you’d promised yourself never to go crawling to him for help. but the universe has a funny way of forcing your hand. 

desperation for your daughter's well-being overrides any pride or resentment. the phone rings, each tone louder than the last. just as you’re sure it’s about to go unanswered, his groggy, sleepy voice comes through from the other side. 

“hello?”

you barely give him the chance to speak before launching into your panic-filled pleas. “matty, it’s mia. she’s sick–she won’t–she’s so warm and my mum’s not here and i don’t–nothing's working—”

“hey, hey, love calm down,” he shushes from the other side and then there's rustling in the background. “i’m coming over.”

matty doesn’t even take fifteen minutes to get to your house, eyes widening the second he takes a look at you and your daughter. she’s been attached to you like an extra limb ever since you woke up to her crying. not that you’ve had the heart to set her down for any longer than necessary but you’re aware how deranged you must look with your hair all over the place and red eyes, exhaustion embedded so deep down in your bones that no amount of sleep will get rid of it. 

“she won’t stop crying,” you launch into it the second he steps inside. every two words you hiccup, trying and failing to keep the sobs at bay. “she has a cold, matty. i’ve tried everything. we had a warm bath, i gave her some calpol. i’ve tried rocking her and singing to her and i’m so fucking tired but she’s just–she won’t stop—”

“hey…” it only takes one gentle touch from him to make you forget every single feeling of apprehension. matty’s frown deepens.

“are you sure?” his voice has suddenly gone quiet, so quiet that you barely hear it over the baby’s cries. 

you look at him in confusion. “didn’t you listen to me? yes i’m fucking sure, she’s ill, matty. look at her!” your voice rises another octave, more and more panicked as another moment passes by and she refuses to settle down.

“no i…” he steps closer and extends his hand. almost afraid to touch her or you. maybe afraid that you might step away like last time. but you stay in place and matty touches the back of her head. it's featherlight at first as if she might break if he puts too much force into it. one touch and she’d crumble away like she was never here at all. 

as if this was all his dream. 

“no, i meant…” he swallows harshly and clears his throat. “are you sure you want me to take her?”

the hold you have on her loosens ever so slightly. 

you called matty here. it’s not like he showed up, unannounced and drunk, no! he showed up at an ungodly hour to help you. if anything… that earns him a tiny, miniscule brownie point. 

“do you know how to—”

“hold a baby?” he quips and you notice the way his face brightens almost imperceptibly, barely even noticeable. “i do, i’ve uh… yeah. i do.”

he doesn’t elaborate further, he only stands there patiently until you find your hold on her loosening. you will your heart to calm down, will your body to not be so rigid. then you take a deep breath and extend her to him.

she looks almost different in his arms. smaller somehow, so much more like him than you realised. and matty’s face holds an expression you’ve never seen before. 

something about it makes your heart stutter. 

he’s enamoured by her, so much so that he barely even reacts when she sneezes in his face and keeps crying even though it’s a bit softer now. maybe she’s just as distracted trying to process him, maybe she feels something too—a bond that’s somehow always been there, hidden and battered and hanging on by a thread. 

in a heartbeat, his face changes and he holds her to his chest. 

in a tentative voice, matty shushes her, bounces her a bit just like you had been. you wring your hands nervously waiting for something to happen. maybe he’d realise he still doesn’t want her, that he was wrong to think he did. maybe he’d give her back and leave you again quietly. 

your chest hurts at the thought, but you will it away and watch matty cuddle her closer. 

he holds her as tightly as possible without hurting her. matty closes his eyes and presses his face into her head, he swallows harshly and for a moment his whole body shudders. when he opens them again, they’re tinged pink, and he quickly looks away. 

“can you—” he clears his throat and tries again. “can you show me where the nursery is?”

you nod and gesture for him to follow. mia’s cries slow a little when matty starts walking. he continues shushing her and attempting baby talk which is slightly amusing despite everything. he gives up in a few seconds though and goes back to talking to her normally. 

“just a cold, my love,” you hear him faintly, “they’re really annoying though, aren’t they?”

in spite of yourself, you smile and stop in front of the nursery. 

“she usually likes the chair.”

matty looks to the corner of the room where you’re pointing and nods. then he clears his throat. 

“should i… uh, does she have a favourite blanket?”

the fact he thought of it is impressive. and she does, but you know it’s just been washed and folded. to get it for her, you’d have to leave them alone. for the first time ever. 

the rational part of your brain knows it won’t be a big deal. it’s two minutes at most and it’s not like matty’s gonna run away with her. your heart pounds regardless, and your feet feel leaden. 

“sure, it’s–yeah, let me just…” and then you leave before you have the chance to overthink it. 

by the time you’re get back to the nursery, soft blanket in hand, matty’s already settled in the rocking chair, mia in his arms with her cheek squished against his chest. 

he’s unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt so he’s not entirely shirtless but just enough to feel her against his skin—to get a second chance at the skin-to-skin he missed. 

“that’s it, darling,” he speaks softly and strokes her cheek. “settle down for me. daddy’s gonna take care of you, okay?”

with every word he speaks, her eyes get droopier, her sniffles turn to quiet breaths until matty takes a deep breath and starts singing a quiet song. 

it’s unfamiliar at first, and he starts off unsure and off-kilter. his voice cracks, but mia babbles something and presses further into his chest. it’s then that he really smiles—wide and breath-taking and so incredibly happy that the air whooshes out of your lungs just at the sight of it. 

daddy’s gonna take care of you, okay?

and that’s exactly what he does. he pats on her back softly, presses small kisses to her head until your eyes sting and a sob almost escapes. 

quickly, you back away, still clutching the blanket. still holding back tears until you’re far, far away from him and somehow in the empty kitchen. the sky is only just turning pink, even then, the darkness lingers. and that’s when the dam breaks. 

great, heaving sobs spill out of you—ugly and wretched and loud enough that it’s a miracle matty doesn’t come running. your legs give out from under you and you slide against the counter, leaning against it and praying for any amount of strength. your chest aches and your body trembles. a distatant memory flashes across your mind—of the last time you cried like this. when you accidentally called adam instead of your mum. 

when adam did show up even if you tried to get him to leave.

the cool surface of the countertop offers a small comfort. with trembling hands, you clutch the soft blanket, and bury your face in it. it still holds the scent of baby oils and powders, of her fluffy little head that you adore so much. the same head that’s full of his curls. 

you gasp for a breath and stifle another sob. the blanket helps too—it’s grounding and comforting. it’s familiar. you force yourself to take another deep breath, and this time it comes a bit easier. the weight on your chest eases just a bit. the grief that felt so overwhelming all these months loosens its grip around your heart and in the stillness of dawn, matty’s voice floats into the kitchen. 

you stay there on the floor, counting one breath after the other, listening to his lullaby until the whole kitchen is bathed in the orange light of dawn.

then you wipe away the snot and the tears and make yourself stand up.

you hold your head in your hands, hoping the dull ache would go away soon, along with all the memories of the last 24 hours. at this point, you’d settle for the complete erasure of the last thirty minutes. 

you just want to go back to before—back to your happy cheerful baby, back to being busy enough that you have no time to think about him. 

you desperately crave the before where the crack in his voice doesn’t haunt every thought. where the song doesn’t echo in the crevices of your brain and mia’s cries don’t grow quieter with every word he sings. in fact, you crave an alternate world where she doesn’t cry at all. she sleeps through the night like always and you video call your mum when she wakes up. 

that’s what was supposed to happen. not…this. 

not matty being in your house with your—his—daughter, watching her with that devastated look on his face. 

a soft thud of the door jerks you out of your thoughts but the house remains devoid of baby cries. the only thing you can hear really is matty’s footsteps growing louder until you can see him at the door to the kitchen from the corner of your eye. 

he hesitates and lingers like he’s trapped in a limbo. 

“you can come in, you know?” you straighten and roll your neck to get rid of some of the pain. there’s a momentary relief before the ache comes flooding back. 

“she’s asleep…”

“yeah, i thought she would be.”

“she feels a bit cooler to the touch,” he reports and relief floods your chest. 

for a moment the kitchen stays silent. the birds outside chirp once in a while and you hear the occasional sounds of a car but everything else feels like it’s come to a standstill. quiet. the universe holding its breath in anticipation. 

“i should go—”

“coffee—”

you both speak at the same time and shut your mouth again. another pang of pain lances through your body and this time you barely hold back the wince. 

he wants to leave, of course, he does. just because he came through in a time of need doesn’t mean he’s ready to be a father. it doesn’t mean you’re ready to let him be her father. 

“coffee sounds nice,” he speaks so softly that you barely hear it at first. there’s trepidation in his voice; a slight tremor that he might be pushed away again but a rock lodges itself in your throat and all you can manage is a slight nod. 

you can feel his stare burning into the back of your head when you turn. the coffee pot is still full of yesterday’s grounds—something you haven’t had the chance to tidy up yet. now that you look around, the whole kitchen is a bit of a mess. you scoff to yourself. your mum’s been gone for three whole days and your life is already falling apart trying to be a single mother. 

the gurgling of water fills the kitchen as the kettle starts boiling and you look around for a spare mug. yours is right by the coffee machine but an extra one should be high up in the cupboard. 

matty’s shoes squeak on the floor but he doesn’t come any closer. 

“need any he—”

“no. i’m fine!”

and just to drive the point home, you yank the door to the top shelf open and stretch extra high to reach the spare mug. cool air brushes the exposed sliver of skin and just for a moment you’re tempted to see  if he’s looking, just for a tiny second, until pain lances through your neck and shoulder and this time the loud wince slips out. 

before you know it, matty’s behind you, steading you with a hand against the small of your back—warm palm pressed against warm, exposed skin. somewhere deep down you would have recognised him through smell alone—the same warm spicy smelled laced with just a hint of cigarette smoke that you’ve thought about on many lonely nights. 

sometimes when you’re deep asleep, it sneaks up on you, envelopes you so thoroughly that you wake up surrounded by it, suffocating almost and still desperately trying to get lungfulls of it. 

the same smell surrounds you now and matty’s body presses close to yours. 

“careful there,” he breathes and the warmth of it spreads goosebumps all over your body.

“you alright?”

you know he’s referring to your wince from two seconds ago but your brain takes an eternity to form a coherent sentence. 

“fine,” you manage. “i was rocking mia all night, think i pulled something.”

instantly, warm, rough fingers touch your shoulder and the space between you comes alive with electricity. 

“trust me,” he murmurs and somehow you find yourself nodding and closing your eyes, sighing when his fingers press into your skin. the wood the counter digs into your pelvis, almost like a tether to this world, something to stop you from floating away and giving in to his touch. heat simmers in your blood just as the water in the kettle comes to a full boil. 

“this feel good, love?”

distant thoughts remind you to say no, to move away and shut hm off again. he has no business touching you again, but your body seems disconnected from your brain. instead of walking away, you lean back, into his chest and away from the wood of the counter. 

the tether snaps but matty’s there to hold you down. his hand snakes around your waist and you spin. spin till you’re facing him and pressed flush against his chest. until his scent is all around, finally enough to settle into your lungs and not dissipate into the cloying scent of nightmares. 

“we s-shouldn’t…” you try to sound firm but the word makes you choke. matty’s eyes dip to your mouth. 

“we shouldn’t,” he agrees and presses his lip against yours. 

the kiss takes you back to the last time—to the before, in that cosy hotel room by the sea. you think of the two people tangled up in the bedsheets, naked and sweaty and happy. one of them looks remarkably like you—the same hair and eyes, the same smile, slightly fuller cheeks though. she laughs and whispers something in matty’s ear. then he nips at her lips just like he nips at yours now. 

it’s a kiss teeming with longing and desire and everything in between. 

your teeth knock against each other and matty takes advantage of your gasp to slide his tongue in, to let it run over your lip and against your tongue until you’re panting and leaning against him for support. 

“m-matty,”

“tell me you don’t wan’t me,” he says all of a sudden but his eyes are so full of so much hope that your heart might shatter into a million pieces to see it die away slowly. 

“i want you…”

and that’s the only permission he needs before his mouth is on yours again, hungry and hot, your lips between his teeth until they’re red and swollen, and only then does he move to your jaw. 

his stubble leaves a faint burn on your skin and the fire in your blood burns hotter. 

“please,” he chokes out and swallows roughly, “need to taste you, please.”

you don’t trust your voice enough to speak, instead you give him a light push on his shoulders. instantly, matty kneels between your legs and pulls your shorts down until they fall to your ankles, along with the underwear. 

silently, you curse for not bothering to shave or wear decent underwear. not like you knew this would be happening. but he’s like a man starved and every ounce of hesitation leaves when your fingers tangle in his hair. 

the tresses slip between your fingers, soft and curly and exactly how they used to feel a year ago, the greys stand out against your hand and a whine escapes you the moment his tongue connects to your clit. your breath hitches at the sight of him—eyes half-lidded, dark enough that they are almost black, lips swollen to the point they are wet and red. for a moment, you consider pulling him up just to kiss him again, to taste him again. but then matty’s tongue plunges inside you and your mind goes blank. 

his rough hand is against your thigh, fingers digging into soft flesh, another against your ass, holding you up and squeezing the flesh at the same time. your legs tremble and almost give up but he pushes you back and traps against the counter. 

you shouldn’t. you shouldn’t. you shoudn’t. you try telling that to yourself over and over again and yet your belly erupts in butterflies that just won’t go away. your hands move of their own accord, guiding his head, pushing his mouth right against your clit, and matty takes it all. 

“fuck–” he chokes out and goes back to licking another broad strip, “missed you, missed your taste, fucking missed you so much!”

tears sting your eyes and your body trembles for a different reason this time but you push it back and rut your hips against his face. 

despite the thoughts in your head, this feels good. this feels familiar and fantastic and as much as you don’t want to admit it, this feels right. 

matty moans against your clit and swipes a finger through your folds. euphoria makes your vision go white and you let yourself cry out his name. perhaps for the first time. the sound echoes around the kitchen, confined within the four walls of this room somehow even before you stifle the second scream. there’s a sleeping baby in the house after all, the last thing you need is for her to wake up and put an end to whatever this is until the awkwardness would push matty out of the house and possibly out of your life again—

your eyes scrunch shut as another lick makes your head spin. 

“fa-faster,” you moan out and shamelessly throw a leg over his shoulder, holding onto his head so tight now that he surely feels the tug. if anything, his efforts double, and his tongue plunges deeper into you than before.

the world goes hazy and soft around the edges as your eyes roll back into your head. 

fuck! he’s good… he’s always been good. he’s always known your body better than you have. besides, no one’s made you feel half as good in a year, no one besides your vibrator on occasional lonely nights. 

“fuck, darling you’re perfect…” he breathes and the word echoes around in your head. 

you were perfect. together. even after everything, nothing and no one can erase the that. 

you swallow another cry and hold onto him tighter. your head buzzes and pleasure floods through your entire body until you’re chanting his name over and over again. somewhere through it all, you’re aware of grinding against his face like a wild animal in heat but his mouth keeps up with it. if anything, his thumb joins in, pressing on your clit, pinching it just so till you jerk and let go all over his tongue. 

ecstasy replaces the blood in your veins, runs at lightning speeds and you feel as if you’re floating up, up and away if not for matty standing up, holding onto you, kissing you till you can taste yourself on his tongue—taste so much more that heat pools in your stomach again and you push your hands inside his t-shirt. 

his whole body tenses, muscles taut against your hand until he’s practically vibrating and rigid. 

“you really w-want this? me?”

the hope in his voice is barely controlled but you refuse to open your eyes. one look at him and you know your resolve will crumble and the tears will come. instead you push your face into the crook of his neck and nod. 

“i’ve never been more sure of something…”

for a moment, his breathing stops completely and matty goes still—you can almost feel his heart stop too, almost feel the stuttering beat pounding right under the palm of your hand. then the spell breaks and the clinking of his belt buckle fills the room. 

his lips press against the hollow of your throat, leaving wild, reckless marks behind before he moves over to where your pulse thrums wildly. his mouth finds the spot, sucks on it gently, and you find yourself losing in him once again. 

you feel the hardness of his cock through the boxers and before you have the chance to touch him properly, matty pulls away slightly, making you look at him in confusion. it’s only when his hand reaches for his wallet do you realise that he’s pulling out a condom.

good. there should be some barrier between you. some semblance of a boundary even though it laughably flimsy and pathetic. and well, that lack of barrier is really what landed you here in the first place. 

“i need—”

“yes,” he interrupts and goes in for another sloppy kiss. 

your hands wander until you’re pulling his hard cock out, feeling him moan into the kiss and he reluctantly pulls away to put the condom on. the moment stretches on and suddenly this whole thing feels juvenile, like he’s your high school crush. like this is your first time. excitement bubbles up in your chest—dull but unmistakably there. maybe just this once, you let it surge. 

as if in a daze, matty slides the stray hair off your shoulder, brushing away the strands until your shoulder is bared to him and kisses the exposed skin. goosebumps erupt in its wake.

the whole affair is silent—just moans and sighs and the sound of his shuddering breath before he’s slipping into you, deeper and deeper until all you feel is him and his heartbeat.

“fucking perfect, so fucking perfect…” he chants and thrusts again. and again. and again till your breathing becomes ragged and your head loses every thought once again, and then he’s the only person to matter in the world. 

you’d die if he were to let go of you now. 

his grip on you tightens and his pace becomes faster, hips slamming into yours until you’re both moaning and panting, until your face in in the crook of his neck, mouth against his neck. the kisses excite him more, make him shiver in delight, and somehow you feel him grow harder inside you—streching you out till you’re nearly in tears and crying out from pleasure that is almost overwhelming. 

“matty, you’re—i’m—”

“can’t wait to feel you drenching my cock,” his voice turns into an unexpected growl and pleasure coils in your belly. his hand inches between your legs, fingers circling your clit until his thumb is pressing down on it once again and you mewl. his chest barely even stifles it. 

“please…” you beg and get swept away by another feverish kiss. your head spins and matty’s saying something, he’s fucking into you so hard that you can barely hear a word over the obscene, wet sounds. or maybe it’s the blood rushing through your whole body that drowns it out. 

none of it matters though, not when you feel white hot pleasure swirl through you and then you clench around him, hard enough that he cries out too. hard enough that you feel him cum despite the condom. and that’s what tips you over the edge. 

matty keeps going through it, slamming into you until he eventually slows down, until he eventually stills but doesn’t pull out. you keep your eyes closed, chest heaving, breath mixing with his, bodies pressed together so tightly that you can practically feel the rush of his blood under his skin. 

some pathetic part of your brain makes tears prick at your eyes and you finally open your eyes, taking just a second to look at his face. there are lines etches into his forehead now—deep grooves that used to be much softer. a reminder of all the time that’s passed. his sweaty curls stick to his forehead, much more grey than before. much messier. still, he's as beautiful as ever, as beautiful as a forbidden fruit. 

then he opens his eyes too and the breath truly gets knocked out of you. 

after all this time, his eyes are the same warm hazel. the same eyes you look into every day. mia’s eyes. matty’s eyes. 

for a moment, the room feels colder. the orange hue feels odd and unnatural but it’s just a trick of the light, just a trick of an overthinking mind.  

“we—”

“don’t,” you interrupt quickly. “please, just… let me stay like this. let me have this memory.”

matty hmms, then moves his hand to the back of your head, fingers in your hair until you feel something wet on your cheeks, on your shoulders. until you feel his body shaking. you don’t look up. you don’t try to console him either. you just stay like that, breathe him in until your lungs feel full enough to burst. 

you know how this ends. deep down, you’ve always known it. 

still, letting go of him feels like plunging a knife in your chest. 

there will be a part 3, this was getting too long.

lemme know what you think <33

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#read the cws pls!!! #the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy fic #matty healy angst #the 1975 fic #angst #minors do not interact #matty x reader #matty x you #matty healy smut #smut

[justanamesstuff]

Take my breath away - Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: Really nervous about everything today!! I hope you guys like it! Let me know :)) This fic is based on this request, and works as another part for this fic i've posted (now that he's talking about reparations...) 🤭♥

Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI (please stay away), angst, jealousy, smut, fluff, typos.

Word count: 4.1 k

Blog Masterlist

At home

“How do I look?” Y/n came into the shared room of their house, and asked him. 

Matty was fighting with his tie around his neck, when his girlfriend came in. He had been staring at his reflection for a few minutes, trying to get the knot right. When his eyes fell on her, the air got stucked inside his throat. 

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, under Y/n’s attentive sight. She chewed on her lower lip waiting for him to say something, one word at least. If he didn’t like the dress, she would probably cry because her closet wasn’t full of options for Charli XCX’s massive birthday party. Y/n was convinced that the one she was sporting was the only good option.

Matty’s eyes travelled from Y/n’s hair do –messy and simple, she spent almost one hour making it look like it took five minutes and not that long–; make-up helping to show her factions perfectly, the dress straps assist his sight trail down towards her chest being adorned with a lacy pattern mixed with an almost transparent type of fabric. The right side of the dress opened from the middle of her thigh, ending closer to the floor. Her private parts hiding from prying eyes. Matty’s followed the route from her hips, down her legs, until his eyes fell upon her feet styled by high heels. Matty felt like a teenager, feeling a wave of heat around his neck and a painful need between his legs.

“Do you hate it?” she asked, snapping him from his daydreaming.

“Hate it?” his voice struggled to came out from his dry throat. Matty tried to cleanse it, detaching his hands from his tie. “Hate it?” the singer repeated once more, feeling his dick twitch inside his boxers. 

Y/n tried to smooth her dress even though it was perfectly steamed, “You haven’t answered my question.” she didn’t dare to look at him.

Matty felt bad seeing her look so unsure of her beauty when all he wanted to do is skip the party and spent the night in bed worshipping her body and her.

He moved a few steps closer, moving slowly to not startle her. “My love…” Matty started slowly. “You always, but specially tonight…” he breathed in, the sound making Y/n look into his eyes. “You look breathtaking.” Matty held the sides of her face, keeping Y/n from looking away.

“Really?”

“Are you kidding, Y/n?” Matty moved her head a little, trying to wake her to acknowledge her appearance. Y/n brushed her shoulders. “Baby, I- I don’t know where to start.” Matty chuckled and she followed, copying him. “This dress is going to kill me.” 

“You look pretty handsome yourself, Healy.” Y/n tried to divert the attention, but her boyfriend wasn’t having it.

“What if I text George saying I’m sick or something…and we spend the night here…” Matty let his hands moved down her neck, slowly, making Y/n shiver by his hot touch. 

“No, we can’t do that.” Y/n threw her head back a little, giving Matty space to lean forward to kiss the exposed skin. 

“Why?” he asked, innocently, as if he wasn’t proposing skipping one of the most iconic and important parties of the year. 

Y/n tried to focus on the words she wanted to say, but his hands settled on her hips for a moment, meanwhile his lips attacked her neck, moaning when her perfume reached his nose. Her knees almost failing her.

“Because…” she pronounced. “It’s Charli’s birthday.” Y/n tried to push him away by his shoulders, even though she didn’t really want to stop him. 

He didn’t answer right away, his attention entirely on her body reacting to his touch. Matty felt the fabric under his digits when he trailed up to his favourite part of his girlfriend's body. His veins pumping with ecstasy when her nipples hardened, finally getting his attention. Y/n pushed, unconsciously, her chest further into his palms. 

“I don’t care…” Matty’s teeth brushed hard upwards against the soft skin of Y/n neck. “I don’t care if it’s the King’s birthday, and we’re invited.” he said breathless. “If I want my girl, if I need my girl-” that was when she felt him, heavy, against her belly. “Nothing more matters.” Y/n moaned, closing her eyes, feeling his soft lips attack her sweet spot under her jaw. 

Matty squeezed her right boob, trying to get rid of the dress strap at the other side. Both action brought Y/n back to reality. “No, Matty.” she said, and he stopped instantly. 

“Please.” he begged without moving further, just keeping his hands still.

“Later.” 

Matty groaned when Y/n moved backwards, far from him. She moved the strap back in place. 

“You’re killing me, baby.” Matty tried to sort himself inside his pants so his hard on wasn’t visible.

“‘m not.” she fought back, feeling her thong damp while she tried to get to the door.

Matty contained a moaned, looking her move her hips from side to side. The night was going to be long.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charli’s birthday party

Matty gripped his glass of whiskey, meanwhile Ross was talking his ear off even though he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were upon a pair at the other side of the room. 

Ross kept talking about his nephew and penguins, or something similar –Matty couldn’t care less–, when Matty almost let go of his cup. 

“Wow!” Ross interfered, placing his hand under in. “Watcha doin’, mate.” 

“What?” Matty spat.

Ross stared at his face for a second. Matty was frowning hard. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” it was the second time he asked the singer about it. They were at a party, they were supposed to have fun, although Matty wasn’t enjoying the evening. 

“‘m fine, Ross. Perfectly fine about a twat flirting with my girlfriend…touching her.” Matty drank the rest of his drink in one go, groaning when the liquid stung his throat.

“Edward?” Ross asked, looking between Matty and Y/n deep into conversation with the man in front of her. 

“Don’t give a fuck about his name.” 

“Alright, mate.” Ross didn’t move a muscle, knowing how Matty was, specially after a few drinks. “Isn’t he Y/n’s coworker or something?” 

“He’s one of her best friend’s brother, who has been in love with her for ages…she knows that. I can’t believe she’s letting him-”

“She’s not letting him anything, Matty. They’re talking.” Ross defended her. 

“He’s been touching her arms every two minutes.” Matty protested like a toddler.

“If it’s bothering you so much, why are you still here?” 

Matty looked at his friend, opening his mouth, “I-” he muttered, bringing a big smile to Ross’s face. “Fuck it.” Matty said. 

His feet conducted him fast to the corner of the big venue Charli chose for her party. Y/n’s laughter reached his ears and his stomach flipped, knowing he wasn’t the one entertaining her. 

Y/n got distracted from Edwards explanation, when a strong arm sneaked around her waist and pushing her back to came in contact with a hard chest. She recognized him by his cologned, rounding her. Y/n glanced down to his hand, possessively resting on her belly. She noticed he took off his blazer and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, showing the tattoos adoring his skin. 

She turned around inside his arms, letting her hands touch his chest. “Hi, handsome.” she greeted him, oblivious of Matty’s mood. “I missed you.”

“‘m sure.” he said, cryptic. 

Matty realized her eyes were glossy due to the alcohol the dumbass was providing her. On the other hand, Y/n acknowledge the frown on his forehead and how he pressed his lips close. Y/n crocked an eyebrow at him, silently asking.

“Come with me.” he commanded, not giving attention to the idiot standing behind them, expecting for Y/n to return to their previous conversation. Matty wasn’t going to allow him to steal her from him one more minute. 

Y/n’s boyfriend didn’t wait for her reply, taking her hand on his and dragging her around the sea of people. She tried to look back to Edward to gift him an apologetic wave, but Matty was moving fast, which made her inevitably look forward. 

The grip of his hand was hard, even though it wasn’t hurting her. The duality of her man send a shiver directly into her core. Y/n jumped forward, trying to get closer to Matty. The only response from him was to give her a side glance when she hugged his big, muscular, arm as if her life depended on it. His attention drifting away from her face didn’t hurt her feeling, the opposite in fact. Y/n wanted to know what got him so worked up, she wanted to be the centre of his attention as she was back home after they left the safety of their house.

—----------------------------------------------

After trying a few doors down the long hallway –all of them locked– Matty was starting to get hopeless. In any moment, he let go of her hand, dragging Y/n with him. His breathing was rapidly, and his girlfriend noticed the sweat starting to damp his shirt. An urge to lick it directly from the skin of his neck took over Y/n’s senses.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Matty tried another handle, same story. 

“Matty, what’s going on?” 

He turned around, his eyes falling on hers. His nostrils were three time bigger than usual, and his chest was moving up and down with a rhythm that entranced Y/n.

“Did you have fun with your little friend?” Matty snapped at her.

Y/n felt a little intimidated by him talking down at her, but her cunt thought otherwise. It wasn’t usual for him to bring this territorial side of him, usually it was a teasing remark and his proud self talking about another man wanting to have her, but he was all his. Rarely Matty let his possessive self took over. Y/n couldn’t lie, she was excited. 

She decided to play it dumb, “What are you talking about?” her Bambi eyes connecting with his. 

Y/n tried to touch him, even though Matty took a grasp of her wrist and, after one look to make sure no one was close, he pushed her towards the closest wall, pressing his body to hers. 

“No with me, sweetheart. You can act all innocent with the asshole out there, but…I know you, baby girl.” he whispered, without taking his eyes from hers.

“I wasn’t-”

“Oh, no…you weren’t doing anything. You didn’t stop him, either.” Matty pushed his chest an inch closer, feeling her nipples hard like diamonds through the fabric of his shirt and the lace on top of her perfect tits. “He was touching you…” Matty copied Edward’s actions, touching down the skin of her arms –still pinned to the wall at each side of her head–; while his nose brushed against hers and his lips lingered above Y/n’s lips, feeling his breading fanning over them.

“Matty.” Y/n breathed out, trying to push her body off the wall, even though she had little space between it and Matty’s chest. 

Matty pushed once more, “He was touching you, Y/n. And you didn’t stop him.” he said directly into her ear. 

The warmth he was irradiating was driving her senses insane. The mix of it with his cologne and the faint smell of his favourite brand of cigarettes wasn’t helping to ease her feeling either.

“Did you enjoy it?” Matty asked. Y/n opened her eyes again, trying to find his. 

“What?” 

“Did you enjoy him touching you?” he repeated through clenched teeth, searching any sign inside her delated pupils. 

“No, Matty- No, of course not.” Y/n pushed her arms away from his embrace, going to round his neck, bringing him impossibly closer. “You’re the only one I want, baby.”

“Am I? Because you looked really happy laughing with your secret admirer.” his voice dripping with poison.

“Are you jealous of him, Healy?” Y/n teased him to riled him up a little more, her hands sneaking around the back of his head, tugging on his curls. Matty moaned directly into her mouth, and Y/n never felt prouder of herself. “I am yours, Matty.” she declared, moving the left strap of her dress down until he could see her nipple. Matty’s mouth watering to the sight, and his mind focusing on her, nothing more.

“Fuck.” Matty muttered, resting his open palm on her left breast. “All mine?”

“Mhm, all.” Y/n threw her head back, trying to stay quiet, feeling his rough palm making circles on top of her skin. 

A loud sound, louder than the music making the walls around the venue vibrate, startled them. Matty quickly pushed her clothes all the way back up before someone could see his girlfriend just a tad naked. 

Charli showed up at the end of the hall. She cackled when she stopped a few meters away from them. 

“Well, well, well…hello guys, happy to see you’re enjoying my birthday party.” Charli was visibly drunk, almost tripping over her own feet. 

Y/n went to help her, “Okay, you need water, birthday girl.”

Matty groaned, realizing he wouldn’t be able to have his girlfriend just for himself at the moment. Y/n mimed a “sorry, later” walking far from him. The singer wasn’t going to stand alone, so he trailed down behind them.

“Poor, Matty…he wanted to get some.” Charli laughed about her words alone.

Y/n giggled, saying, “Let’s find G.”

“Yes! Please.” 

*********************

Y/n ended up loosing Matty. It was getting really late, and the craving wasn’t going away. After leaving Charli secured by G’s side, she tried to look after her man. Seeing what time it was, just a few groups lingered around the place, making it easier for Y/n to search. 

Matty was indeed a few meters far from her, talking with Adam, Carly, Ross, and a blond girl. Her heart dropped to her belly when she saw her twist her hair, looking at her boyfriend with suggestive eyes, biting her lip. ‘Oh, no’, Y/n feeling her blood boil. 

“Baby.” she said, standing between the girl and her man. 

“Hello, I’ve lost you.” Matty rounded her body, kissing the top of her head. The solo act made Y/n felt complete again.

“I’m ready to go home.” 

Matty understood every meaning behind her simple words. He was ready too.

“Perfect. Let’s go.”

After a quick goodbye to the group, not acknowledging the girl looking at them stunned, Y/n pulled Matty by his hand out of the venue. She was moving fast like never before.

“Hey, hey.” Matty pulled back, stopping. 

Y/n turned around to look at him with a puzzled look. “What?”

“Baby…” Matty chuckled.

“I want to get home.” Y/n accentuated every syllable.

“I know, I do too. What’s going on up here?” Matty tapped slowly on her forehead, looking at Y/n feeling his heart full.

“You, fucking me.” Matty took a sharp breath, trying to control himself. He knew her better than anyone. 

“Y/n.” he said in a warning tone.

“Who was the bitch?”

“Are you jealous, Y/l/n?” he asked, mimicking her question about Edward. 

“Whatever.” 

Y/n let go of his hand, making him feel cold all of a sudden. She started walking away, typing into the screen of her phone to get a car that could drive them home. Matty trotted to reach her. 

“My love.” he whispered into the back of her neck. Y/n wanted to prevent the quivering taking over her limbs, although it was hard to stop it when Matty was the cause of it. “He was Ross’s date.”

“Well, she was trying to fuck you. Ross deserves better.” he snorted, loving this side of her.

“I like it when you get territorial over me.” he left a chaste kiss on her shoulder, watching a car approach them.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Home sweet home

During all the way home, Matty didn’t try anything. Y/n moved on the seat beside Matty, feeling his hot hand resting on her knee, but doing nothing she wanted him to actually do. She was aware he noticed her little sounds protesting, trying to gain his attention, although Matty maintained the composure until the front door closed down with a big sound.

He was all over her when her feet were out of the high heels, the insufferable dress laughing at his eagerness. Without a word, Matty took Y/n by her hips, moving her backwards until her back was against the wall of the corridor. 

His eyes following hers glanced down at his lips, wetting hers in anticipation. 

“What do you want, princess?” his voice low and raspy, sending a ray of pleasure down towards her pulsing clit. Matty’s hands keeping her still.

“You.”

“What about me?” Y/n whined as a protest, moving her head from side to side. “Come on, you can do words.” 

“Please.”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Matty placed his right hand on her neck, pressing slightly to distract her even more. 

“Touch me.”

“I’m touching you.” 

“Jerk.”

Matty tightened his grip around her neck, “None of that.” Y/n glanced at his orbs, with hers tearful by frustration.

“Play with my tits, Matty.”

“Anything more?”

“Touch me down there, fuck me…please, anything…I just need you.” Y/n panted and cried out, chocking with her saliva, being unable to sound collected as she wanted. 

Matty took his hands far from her neck. Without waiting a second, he pushed the dress until the upper half pooled around her hips. He looked up, lowering his face to be in front of her chest. He found her eyes when his mouth opened and then closed down around her right nipple. Y/n felt a wave of relief, of pleasure taking over her. After so many hours waiting for him, his mouth on her tits was going to make her explode in her place. Her left hand went directly to the back of his head, pushing it further into her chest. 

“More, please.” 

Her boyfriend let her nipple go with a wet sound, going to give attention to the other. His eyes closing by the pleasure of finally having his girlfriend bare before him. His lips trailed down, leaving a wet trace all around her tit, meanwhile he stopped from time to time to nibble on the soft skin. 

Matty moved a little back, taking her boobs between his big hands, squeezing them together. He was obsessed with her boobs, always and forever. 

Y/n pushed her thighs together, giving some type of attention to her clit. “Baby.” she whimpered, tugging on his curls, making Matty moaned without caring since they were home. “Oh, yes…Matty-”

He was still too entranced about her tits to listened anything else. Matty stared at them, wetting his digits, so he could draw circles around her sensible nipples. His simple act was meet by a loud moan from Y/n, feeling her insides burn. 

“You’re so hot, my love.” Matty buried his face in her boobs, not escaping the thought of his dick between them. His groaning and his compliment made Y/n arch her back with pleasure.

“And you’re so good at this.”

“Tell me what you need.” Matty said before flattening his tongue, passing it through her nipples repeatedly. 

“I need to get out of this dress.” Y/n tried to push it down her hips, Matty helped her. 

Matty took a minute to admire his girlfriend, standing at the entrance of their shared house almost naked, with the thong covering almost nothing. 

“Up. Now.” Matty wasn’t playing any more, he needed to taste her as soon as possible.

He waited until he heard Y/n entering their room and proceed to follow her. Matty skipped a couple of steps, jumping upstairs. 

When he opened the door, Y/n was resting in all her glory in the middle of their bed; all naked, finally. Matty touched his hard dick through his trousers. 

“Such a good girl you are.” he stated.

The singer moved to the feet of the bed, taking off his shirt slowly at the same time his eyes found hers. She was waiting for him, ready to welcome the singer. Matty undid the belt and opened his zip slowly. 

“Matty.”

“Quiet, dove.”

He pushed his trousers all the way down, leaving them there without caring. Matty was still wearing his boxers when he lingered above Y/n body. His fingers founding her lower lip.

“Open.” so she did. 

Matty let two of his digits inside her mouth. Y/n made a big show about sucking his digits, enjoying how his pupils grew a side due to lust. 

“Enough.” he said, taking them out. 

The tip of his fingers traced all the way down towards where she needed him most, making a stop to touch her breasts again. Instinctively, Y/n opened her legs for him when his hand pressed her hip down towards the mattress. 

Matty lowered himself enough to be face to face with her pussy. The sight in front of him made his dick twitch, and his mouth watered. He left a few kissing on the soft skin of her thigh. “Were you this wet all night?” Y/n nodded, unable to talk when his mouth was so close and so far away. “Words, Y/n.” he bit down on her skin hard. 

“Yes!” she moaned.

“Poor thing.” Matty let his mouth fell on her slit without more interactions. 

She was his favourite flavour. He sucked slightly on her clit, making her yelp and push her hips slightly up, so Matty secured her legs with his arms around them, keeping her open before him. 

Y/n was feeling faster the knot on the lower part of her belly. Matty wasn’t having mercy with her, sucking on her clit or letting his tongue penetrate her. After an entire night, hours without end, for him to touch her and find release once and for all, Y/n played at the precipice of her high. 

“Oh, fuck! I’m-”

Matty pushed back before she could end her sentence, and Y/n protested in the absence of his mouth. His stubble shinning with her juices streaming down his chin. 

He smiled at her, wicked, “Sorry, were you about to cum, baby girl?” 

“Matty!” 

Y/n tried to push him down with her hands on top of his head, although Matty was sterned about it, “Keep your hands up, Y/n.” 

“Please, let me cum.” her mind was foggy, her eyes were closing down on their own. Y/n felt her body move without being able to help it, control was beyond her now.

“Beg for it.” Matty let his middle finger circle around her clit. 

“Please.”

“I can’t hear you.”

Y/n screamed louder, “Please, Matty!!” 

“So beautiful when you beg for me.” he let two digits inside her sweet cunt, falling further until his mouth was sucking again on her throbbing clit.

Y/n felt a tingling sensation starting on her feet and hands, moving closer and closer to the middle of herself. Matty was setting a delicious tempo, driving her even more insane. Y/n’s blood pumping all around her body, at the same time she sensed her hips move, trying to match Matty’s mouth. The feeling crept all the way towards her belly, sending her finally into a trance that erupted all around her, making her see all black and stars. 

Y/n’s moans were music to his ears. Matty helped her surf her high, trusting his fingers inside her while his eyes focused on her face contract with pleasure. The pleasure he was imparting on her. 

Once she was down again, he moved to be chest to chest with her again. He brushed her wet hair back, Y/n looked at him in awe.

“Hey.” he whispered.

“Hello.”

“You alright?”

Y/n blushed a little, “more than that.”

Matty let their lips connect on a sweet kiss, still touching the side of her face to calm her down. 

“I’ll go and find a cloth to clean you up, okay?” Matty moved backwards. 

“No.” she protested. 

“Yes, baby.”

“But you…” Y/n looked down to his boxers.

“I can wait for tomorrow.”

“I want-”

Matty interrupted her, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Matty.” Y/n insisted.

He came closer, reassuring her, “All I care is for you to be satisfied…it’s getting late, and I’ve tired you down. We have all tomorrow to continue, okay?” he gripped her neck, talking slowly to not overwhelmed her.

“I’m not happy about it, but okay. I love you.” she whispered.

“I love you so much, baby.”

Matty left a few more kisses around her face and neck, detaching himself from her body to walk out of the room. 

To be continue...

#matty healy #matty healy fic #the 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic rec #matty x reader #matty the 1975 #matty healy imagine

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Nineteen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: AH this newest update has been so fun and emotional to write I'm ngl, but I'm so excited to post it!! Thanks to @procrastinatinglikeapro for proof reading it and for being so lovely with all her ideas! Please read the warninggggs, I hope everyone enjoys it, it’s a long one 🩶

Warnings: smut, feelings over scars, talks of death/selfharm in the sense of not taking care of yourself (past tense), mention of drug use

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

There were much worse ways to wake up than to a head of messy curls between your legs.

I’d been dreaming about something, I knew that much. Though the thought of it was now hazy as I inhaled deeply and shifted against bedsheets, hand reaching out to feel for the body that had fallen asleep beside me. Only it wasn’t there.

My brow pinched itself into a small frown, confused, and I blinked blearily into the dim light of my bedroom. A faint chuckle echoed and I wrinkled my nose at it, tilting my head downwards to peer towards the end of the bed.

The duvet had been shoved away, pooling around my lower legs and over the grinning idiot settled between them. He pressed a soft kiss to my inner thigh, hands gripping my hips with a certain tenderness I wasn’t all that familiar with. 

Instinctively my fingers moved to work their way into his hair, taking root there and tucking a helpless strand up out of his face. “What you doin’?”

My sleep-filled question was only met with another chuckle, then two more gentle kisses. My hips lifted a fraction as my feet planted themselves more evenly on either side of him.

“Matty.” I breathed out airily, wanting a reply, trying my best to remove the remains of sleep which continued to cling to my mind.

“Keep talking.” Matty finally spoke after what felt like an eternity, his breath tickled the skin of my thighs and I fought to withhold a shudder. “You sound so pretty.”

Stupidly, I smiled, blinking down at him slowly and enjoying the feel of him; the pressure of his arms as they rested over the tops of my legs, crowding the outer muscle, and the how his nose nudged the curve of my thigh, sending a wave of goosebumps over the exposed flesh. “Should I always expect to be woken up this way?”

He nipped me then and I inhaled sharply at the abruptness of it, hands strengthening their hold in his hair. “Would you like that?”

I felt my eyes slip close, letting the rasp of his voice trail up the length of my torso and light a fire somewhere deep in my gut. I hummed in reply, a thumb brushing over his temple when he began to plant kisses up my right leg, getting sloppier and sloppier with each press of his mouth.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.” I breathed back to him, spreading my legs even further apart to give him room and shuffling ever so slightly down the bed. “Yeah, I would.”

I felt more than heard his next chuckle. 

My chest tightened, shoulder blades pressing deeper into the mattress. 

“Matty.” I nearly whined, fingers tightening once more.

He retreated completely then, and I wished I hadn’t even spoken when he asked, “What’s wrong?” with a barely there snicker. 

I didn’t pout but it was a near thing, and he must’ve known it too if the smirk he wore gave any implication. “Don’t be a dick, please.”

My hands shifted slightly as he crawled his way back up the bed, bracketing my head between his forearms so that he could lean in for a proper kiss, delving into my mouth without much care for morning breath or the fact that I must have looked a state. 

I grabbed aimlessly at the back of his neck, pressing up into him whilst simultaneously attempting to pull him even closer. I could feel the way he’d angled his knee on one side of my waist to hold himself up and the press of his fingers as they curled their way into my hair. 

Dragging my hands down and across his front, I explored the expanse of his torso, pleased to find that he had already rid himself of the tee he’d gone to sleep in. My thumb brushed over the jut of his hip, tracing the skin I knew was the home to his ‘we are kings' tattoo. I found myself wanting, desperate to explore every part of him.

He broke away to stare down at me.

“God, you don’t-” Matty shook his head and delved back in for another kiss, “Don’t even know,” then another, “What you fucking do to me.” He punctuated those last few words with a succession of quick pecks and when he leant back in to steal another I captured his bottom lip between my teeth, before slowly I let him go.

“Show me then.” I demanded, enjoying having the feel of this man’s full focus on me.

Matty wasted no time and hastily moved his hand downwards to pull at the hem of my top. I lifted myself up slightly from the mattress to help and released a stuttered sigh when he began to work his way down the length of my torso, littering my collar with wet kisses, nipping here and there but never for long. 

I didn’t think much about my scars in that moment, hands finding purchase amongst his hair and neck once more, before I felt his lips skim across the length of a larger one that jumped over my right shoulder. My breath stuttered at the feeling and my hold fell slack at the sudden reality that hit me. 

Matty paused, obviously having sensed my harsh change, and raised his head up towards me slowly, like a person would when they didn’t want to spook a wild horse. He waited, probably trying to decipher the expression I wore.

But my mind had ultimately stopped.

“Squeaks. You good?”

My eyes snapped up to meet his own, then wandered over the expanse of his face. I saw a plethora of emotions there but none were of pity or disgust, and I found myself swallowing at the realisation.

It wasn’t that I’d never shown my scars to anybody before, or purposely gone out of my way to keep them hidden during intimate moments like this- well, at least I hadn’t for a long time now. But before, I’d typically had time to wrap my head around it first, come to terms with the fact that I’d be bearing them to somebody else, or at the very least get to mention it to the other person beforehand. 

This, this wasn’t that. And this was Matty. Matty, who’d probably had countless models in his bed. Matty, a man who was both lusted after and fought over. Matty, who was currently looking down at me with eyes so kind and soft and patient.

I let go of a shaky breath. 

“I’m good.” I finally told him, thankful for the way my voice didn’t waver when I said it.

He smiled down at me, a mischievous thing that eased my lingering doubts and settled my mind, before he was disappearing again. Nose brushing along the bone of my collar and over the milky white scars that littered it, sucking hard and fast at the skin just below my ear and then again at the shell of my shoulder.

I arched up into him, chest rising and falling the lower he got, leaving his mark alongside the rest of them. Only, I found myself wishing his were the ones that always remained.

He looked up at me once he reached the hem of my sleep shorts, an older pair I favoured, striped cotton and rimmed with a narrow strip of lace. I nodded, already knowing what his silent ask would be, and raised my hips up to allow him to drag the material down the length of my legs. 

Matty paused once more after he’d discarded them, tossing them somewhere to the edge of the room. I heard them land with a dull thud I didn’t see, too busy watching him watch me.

–

She was gorgeous.

Had he told her that?

Had he said it enough?

He’d say it again now but his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth and he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from her long enough to get his mind to work properly again. Her name on a constant loop in his head.

“Fuck.” He heard himself mutter, hands already reaching out to touch, trailing up the length of her leg, up up up, until they danced between the crease of her thigh. 

Unable to help himself he delved downwards to press another hot open-mouthed kiss to the sweet skin there, smiling at the catch he heard in her breath. “So pretty for me.”

Those hands of hers returned to his hair and he couldn’t fault her for it, she’d seemed like the type to want for something to hold. 

“Matty.” She dragged out and God, did he want to record that sound solely for the purpose of listening to it over and over again whenever he was missing her and had his hand wrapped around himself.

It seemed that someone must’ve been listening to his inner workings of his mind because again she said it not a second later, the same pitch, same breathy exhale. Matty’s dick twitched and he suddenly felt rather restricted in his boxers, but he didn’t dare pull away, too content to just lie there between her thighs.

His kisses grew closer and closer, until she was writhing beneath his mouth, fingers clinging tightly onto his curls. She whimpered and he groaned at the very sound, she seemed to like that though, forcing his face further into her folds. 

Any other time he might have laughed at her sudden boldness, but he was a little preoccupied. The taste of her seemed to explode on his tongue, rich and heady, and he reached up, hands gripping at her hips to pull her more forcefully against his mouth. Four long licks and she outright moaned, loud and free, uncaring in truth, and it only spurred Matty on. 

Quite suddenly he wanted to devour her whole, to keep the taste of her on his tongue always. And so he began to trace his name on her clit. His own selfish need to put his brand on her somehow, his claim. She bucked up against his chin, and he forced her back down. Groaning as his fingers trailed up to join his mouth. 

“Oh, God, oh shit.” He heard her mutter when his tongue delved deeper, her hands twisting in his hair, holding him against her as she chanted. 

She came not long after and Matty continued to lick languidly whilst she shuddered beneath him, drawing harsh and laboured breaths into hollow lungs. He withdrew slightly to look up at her when her hands fell slack in his hair and ran his tongue along the length of his own lip, lapping up what was there. She made quite the picture. Laid out before him, cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling with each new breath she struggled to draw in.

Selfishly he gave one final brush of his thumb over the expanse of her overwhelmed nerves, before forcing himself up onto his knees. 

His chin was quite noticeably wet with the evidence of her pleasure and his tongue ached like fuck all else, but he felt as though he’d gone and started his day the best way he possibly could. 

So with that thought and a satisfied grin, Matty leaned over the edge of the bed to make a grab for the t-shirt he’d thrown there earlier and wiped his face with it, pressing the heel of his hand into his softening cock when he rose.

He felt like a kid, having jizzed in his pants, but he’d gotten off on that almost as much as she had. And although he’d definitely have to shower sooner rather than later, and would surely have to go commando once he was clean, Matty couldn’t find it in him to regret the way it had gone down. 

Fuck, she was maddening. Those sounds she’d made, how responsive she’d been. He only wished that he could scar the experience into his memory.

Tossing the shirt back to the floor, Matty crawled his way up the bed one more, throwing himself onto the chilled sheets beside her, admiring the way her chest continued to move with each deep inhale. His eyes latched onto everything she had to offer him, but mainly the scars she’d been so guarded about before. 

They weren’t as bad as she’d made them out to be. Though he was only drawing that conclusion from the small and quick quips she’d made about them since knowing her, and even those had been rare and few. 

He rather enjoyed the sight of them, weren’t all that different to the look of a tattoo in truth, though he’d never admit to that out loud- he wasn’t that much of a twat, nor insensitive. But still, he found himself wanting to reach out and trail over every jagged point and rounded curve of them. They were a part of her and he found them as equally beautiful as he did those soulful eyes of hers.

His index was grazing a faded pink line before he could think better of it. It rested just below the curve of her breast and looked to have been deep once upon a time, not as deep as a few of the others she bared but far enough for the skin to have raised itself in the shape of a small bump when it had scarred over. 

She didn’t stop his wandering hand. He noticed that after a few minutes had passed between them and the rise of her chest had evened out.

His eyes swept up her side to find her staring carefully back at him, he smiled and watched as she slowly copied the motion. Then witnessed the way her eyes darted downwards, shit. Matty almost went to cover up the wet patch that had seeped into his boxers with his hand but knew that there wasn’t much point. She’d seen it now. 

She wore an expression full of surprise when he looked back up at her again, as well as the beginnings of a smirk too. “Was gonna offer, but…”

Matty rolled his eyes and shoved her teasing smile away from him, she laughed giddily into her pillow.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” He retorted, and sprawled out further on the mattress, tilting his head back far enough to stretch as his eyes fell closed, “But you weren’t the one listening to you moan, babe. Fuck, it was-” He just ended up shaking his head, unable to compare the sound of her to anything right off the top of his head.

She buried her responding groan into the pillow and Matty tutted, grinning lazily up at the ceiling before he rolled on over to look at her.

“Nah, you’re doing it all wrong. It was more like-” And his mimicking whimpers were quickly cut short by the press of her hand against his mouth. Matty widened his eyes in exaggeration over the top of her thumb and mumbled something into her palm.

“Shut up.” Was all that she said to him before she was pulling away again.

Matty rolled his eyes once more. “Rude.” He huffed, forcing his weight onto the bend of his elbow so that he could properly look down at her, “You know, a thanks wouldn’t go amiss.”

She swatted him for that one before dissolving into a fit of giggles, tugging him in by the scruff of his neck to kiss him again. He wondered briefly if she could taste herself on his tongue and the thought forced a grunt to wind its way up out of his throat. 

She pulled back at that, but gave him one last peck before the pair of them then settled on their sides to share a pillow. 

Her thumb reached out to brush the edge of his mouth once they’d eased into a peaceful quiet. Matty kissed it, content to just lie there with her for as long as she’d let him.

A car rumbled outside her bedroom window not long later and then it was her whisper that broke the calm. “What time is it?” 

Matty wasn’t even sure. Just that the sun had been creeping its way slowly up into the sky when he’d first woken. He rolled over awkwardly to make a grab for the phone he’d left to charge on the side earlier, “Almost eight.” He told her. 

Squeaks blinked in surprise, eyebrows rising, “Teds should be up by now.”

Matty shrugged and pulled her close again, draping an arm over her waist and pressing his lips to the crown of her head. “Had a long day yesterday, can’t blame the kid for having a lie in.”

She snorted, “You’re the one who kept him up late.”

“He was learning!” Matty immediately defended, though he was grinning too. “And besides, I didn’t hear you complaining.”

He felt her shake her head beneath his chin, and could even picture the way she was most definitely rolling her eyes at him. “You tend to get away with everything, don’t you?”

Smirking, Matty couldn’t deny that. “Just the little things.” Was all that he replied with and she laughed into the column of his throat.

“Hm, don’t get used to it with me.” She hummed and he hoped that she was smiling still. “I won’t make things easy for you, let that be known.”

“Oh don’t I know it.” Matty teased, enjoying the way she’d wrapped her legs around his own, “Jaw fucking aches with how hard you made me work for it.”

She gasped and he barked out a loud laugh when she pinched his side, “Prick.”

Matty merely hummed, breathing in the scent of her and letting himself get swept up in the easy reality of it all. 

But then, “WAKE!”

They both seemed to freeze at the sudden interruption and Mouse was quick to pull away from out of his hold to make a grab for the tee he’d chucked onto the floor.

“Not that.” 

She grimaced at the sight of it in her hand and then shot him a begrudging look before kicking it towards a basket full of washing, pulling a larger shirt from the dresser and throwing it on.

Matty laid there on the bed, entranced by the way it fell so effortlessly off of her shoulder, exposing the scars she had there but also the marks he’d given her too. He grinned lazily and she narrowed her eyes at him when she caught it.

“What you smiling about?”

Lifting his arms up to cushion the back of his head, Matty shrugged, “No reason, baby.”

Her squint deepened, not buying a word of it, but before she could question him again, the bedroom door shot open to reveal a pouty toddler standing in a pair of pj bottoms and his superman cape. Matty raised a questioning brow.

“Save any lives yet today, Teds?”

Still grumpy with sleep, Teddy stomped his way further into the room whilst rubbing at his eyes. Matty was amused by the sight, but also the kid’s hair, which looked just as wild and untamed as his typically did.

“No. Sleepin’.” The boy grumbled to him before he seemed to realise that it was Matty he’d been talking to and his face brightened into something a little more sweeter. “Matty.” He acknowledged with a silly smile, eyes still puffy and blinking back the drowsiness he’d been suffering from.

“Teddy.” Matty mimicked, sitting up on the bed to poke his tongue out at the boy, who merely giggled in reply. “What cartoon’s on today then, mate?”

Teddy paused and it was like a light had switched itself on inside his head because one second he was staring back at Matty and the next he was barrelling his way down the hallway towards the tele set.

“Don’t drop the remote again, Teds!” Squeaks called out just before her son could disappear around the corner, she shook her head after and then turned towards Matty, “Every time it’s him that drops it, and every time it’s me that has to spend a good half hour down on my knees searching for the batteries that fucking escape.”

Matty smiled at the thought of her on her knees, and she must’ve sensed it too because she lobbed a thick hoodie his way, as well as a pair of joggers that looked to be his. He frowned down at the items and wondered when he’d left them here.

“They’re from that night I spent at yours, when I thought we’d-” She coughed then, an excuse to not finish that sentence, but Matty already knew what she’d been on about. Mind flashing back to that night he’d practically confessed all to her, and the next morning when she’d woken up in his bed and had a full blown panic attack. 

“Thanks.” He said, skipping over it all because it was in the past now and he didn’t want her stressing over shit they couldn’t well change, “Can I bum the first shower?”

She hummed, already moving around the room to tidy up a bit, “Yeah, I’ll get in after. Don’t wanna leave Teds on his own for too long.”

“I’ll be quick,” Matty assured her, already jumping up out of the bed to stumble his way on over to the door, “And don’t bother with breakfast, alright? I’ll make it.” 

A look of surprise passed over her face at the offer but Matty didn’t comment on it, having learnt long ago that him doing the most mundane tasks for her only continued to shock her.

“Five minutes!” He called out over his shoulder before he shut the bathroom door behind him. He stepped into the shower with a smile on his face when he heard her shout back a teasing taunt about timing him.

He figured that he could grow used to mornings like these.

…

It wasn’t long later when Matty shuffled his way out of the bathroom and further into the flat, ruffling his hair dry with a towel after having pulled on the clothes Mouse had thrown at him.

Having started down the hallway, he could hear the noise of the tele playing another episode of that show Teddy favoured and the kid’s faint chuckles whenever the characters said something mildly funny. He entered the front room to find the tyke settled on the floor before it, swaddled in a couple of blankets and still half dressed.

“Comfy, little man?” Matty questioned him with a smile, draping the towel he’d used over his shoulders when he’d come to pause by him.

Teddy peered up at him with an almost adoring expression, something Matty was still struggling to get used to. Because see it was one thing to have fans crying out to make a grab for his hand on stage, or asking for a photo in the street, he could deal with all that, had gotten used to it in fact, but this was something else. This was a tiny little bean of a person, so full of innocence and purity, looking up at him as though he was something to be admired, something special.

“Bluey ‘tending to be a bat, Matty.” Teddy grinned, pointing up at the screen towards where it looked like a cartoon dog was hanging out of a tree, “Up down.” 

Matty tilted his head at the picture and snorted, before he crouched down to run a hand through the kid’s unruly hair. “Upside down, hey?” He corrected with a smile, “Looks fun.”

Teddy nodded, eyes now trained back on the tv screen. “Wanna be bat.” He mumbled, unconsciously leaning further into Matty’s hand.

Matty chuckled to himself before he was hit with a thought, “Wanna be a bat, do you?” He smirked, hand already moving to wrap itself around Teddy’s tummy, “Alright then, Superman, get ready!”

With a squeal from Teddy, Matty swiftly jumped up and flipped the kid up into his arms, letting him dangle upside down. “Matty!”

Grinning, Matty jostled him about a bit, enough so that Teddy’s giggles started to echo around the room. “Yeah, Teddy?” He answered the boy, peering down at him from over the tops of his feet, “Did you want something?”

Teddy laughed again, harder, and then shook his head, positively delighted by the whole charade. “Down, Matty!”

“Down? What do you mean down? You said you wanted to be a bat!” Matty’s feigning of being completely unaware only made Teddy laugh louder.

“Down, Matty!” Teddy managed to giggle out again, wriggling in his hold now, enough so that Matty reckoned he ought to.

“Alright, alright.” He chuckled and pulled the little monster back up into his arms, sitting him the right way up, “Good?”

Teddy’s hair was a frizzy mess and his cheeks were all flushed, but he looked giddy with joy, grinning almost madly at Matty to the point where the corners of his mouth almost succeeded in their attempt at reaching his eyes.

“Good! ‘gain!”

Matty snorted, but dropped the kid back down again. This little passtime of theirs seemed to go on for a while before Mouse wandered out to see what all the fuss was about.

Both Matty and Teddy appeared to freeze upon noticing her standing in the doorway, a single brow quirked. “What’s going on in here then?” She laughed and Matty noticed the way her eyes darted between the two of them, “Hm?”

“Bats, mama!”

Her bewildered gaze wandered to Matty after hearing Teddy’s reply and so Matty pulled the kid up into his arms again so that he could settle him back on his mound of blankets. 

Matty jerked his chin towards the tele, “Blame the dog.”

Squeaks merely rolled her eyes, albeit fondly, before her attention was redirected towards the phone she held. Matty noted her slight frown.

“What’s up?” He asked her quietly once Teddy had grown enraptured by the kids show again. 

She sighed softly to herself but looked up at him as she did, pursuing her lips before she answered, “Just this work thing. Adi messaged me.”

Matty hummed and started to trail his way into the kitchen, recalling his earlier promise of breakfast. He could manage breakfast. “Right, anything bad?”

Squeaks shook her head, having followed, but was already staring back down at her phone again. “Apparently we somehow managed to score an hour with this one guest. Fucking notoriously hard to pin down and rarely ever available to work without it being in a moments notice, but their PR team just emailed us with an offer.”

Matty knew shit about the inner workings of a radio show, only that a guest like that could probably work wonders and bring in a whole new audience for them. “And this is a bad thing?”

She threw her head back and groaned unhappily, “Yes! It’s a bad thing, Matty! Because the only moments notice they’ve given us is a fucking hour! Apparently they’re only in London for the afternoon.”

Oh.

Things seemed to click for him then, “So you’ve got to get ready and be down at the studio as soon as?”

Another sigh and she nodded, Matty watched on as she dragged a tired hand across her face, “Or at least I would be if I had someone to watch Teddy. But Finn is on a flight back home, mum is too far away, and I can’t just turn up with Teddy to something like this- I’ll have to cancel.” And with that tangent she’s already skimming her thumbs across the screen of her phone.

Matty chewed on the inside of his lip, weighing out the pro’s and con’s, and what her reaction might just be to what he wanted to say, but then he thought fuck it. “I mean, I could watch him.”

Mouse’s head snapped up at that and Matty tried not to think too much about the weight of her gaze. “What?”

He shrugged, moving away from the counter to pick up a pan, “I could watch him, if you want.” He repeated, pausing to look her in the eye. 

Look, he wasn’t stupid, he knew this was a fucking big deal. Yeah, sure, he’d spent a lot of time with Teddy, but never the two of them alone. Him offering, was his way of helping her out, yes- but also? It was her entrusting her son to him. And that in itself was a big BIG fucking ask. “I’ve only got studio time today and that’s later, but if your thing goes on long enough then I’ll be alright to cancel.”

She was watching him like a hawk now, expression half bewildered- like she’d not even thought of this scenario playing out- and half apprehensive. He supposed he could understand. 

“Really?” She asked him and Matty noted how surprised her voice sounded, almost as though she couldn’t believe he’d offered. But he didn’t want to linger too much on that, he knew he had fucked up in the past and heard that same tone time and time before, but never with her.

Matty dipped his chin in silent acknowledgment, “Yeah, you’ll probably only be gone a couple hours, right?”

“Right.”

He swallowed, picking up the carton of eggs she kept in the cupboard and moving shit about to make it seem as though he wasn’t stressing about it either. “And me and Teds would just be here, I’ll make him food while you go get dressed, then maybe we’ll take a walk down to the park or the shops. Be back before you are,” He shrugged again, licking at his bottom lip before he continued on in his ramble, “Could even order a takeaway when you get in- A chinese or an indian, or something.”

When he chanced a glance back up, Matty found Mouse staring at him, her phone still clutched in the palm of her hand. He almost thought then that she’d turn him down, wave the offer off and cancel on the show’s guest, claiming it was too soon, that she was grateful but couldn’t make that jump just yet.

But then, “A takeaway sounds good.”

Matty startled and the spoon he’d been holding slipped out of his hand as he turned to better face her. “Yeah?” He asked, but they both knew this wasn’t about a takeaway.

He saw her throat bob around a swallow, before she took a breath and gave him a slow smile, “Yeah.” She answered softly, and Matty fucking beamed.

“Yeah?” He said again, eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he stepped his way on over the tiles to wrap his hands around her waist.

She laughed at the face he made, but he was excited. Could practically feel his heart hammering away in his chest. “Yeah, Matty.” Mouse murmured into the space between them, smiling up at him now, “If you’re sure.”

Matty laughed too and squeezed her hips, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

And as scary as it all seemed, he found that he was.

“I’m sure.”

–

Saying you could watch a kid, and then actually watching a kid, were two very different things as Matty quickly found out.

Teddy was rambunctious most of the time his mum was around, but once she’d given him a kiss, said her goodbyes and headed out the door, all that increased by tenfold.

“Teds, mate. Look, I love the cape, I do. But if you wanna go out you’re gonna have to put on a shirt.”

He was met with a stoney face and an evidently displeased pout. And that would’ve been fucking hilarious in itself, especially with the way the kid now had his arms crossed over his chest and chocolate from an earlier biscuit smeared across his chin, but that was only if Matty wasn’t the one standing on the other end of it.

“Please?”

See he wasn’t prone to begging for much of anything in life, he just wasn’t built that way, rebel and all that shite. But for Teddy? Matty reckoned he’d do an awful lot.

He crouched down to level the kid with his best melting look, one which had once gotten him through tsa with a couple ounces of coke in his back pocket, and simply prayed for the best.

At last, Teddy seemed to crumble! Or at least, almost. Because Matty did eventually manage to wrangle him into a decent outfit- only, the cape stayed.

Matty found that he could breathe a little easier once they’d made it out the front door, walking hand in hand with Teddy whilst the little monster splashed about in the slowly drying puddles yesterday’s rain had left. 

He’d thrown on his beanie, the one both Mouse, and now Teddy too, seemed to poke fun at him for, as well as a thick scarf to keep the biting chill at bay and cover up some of his face.

“Where’re we headed then?” Matty voiced once they’d walked a few streets with Teddy pointing out all the birds that he could see. “Park, or the shops?”

“Lego!”

Matty peered down at Teddy’s big grin and pleading eyes, guessing that the lad was after one of the few toy shops in town. He could do that, he supposed, and smiled down at Teddy to tell him so.

They ended up stumbling across an Argos further up the main road, the windows lined with ads of all sorts but Teddy spotted one showcasing all their Lego. And so they wandered in, Matty trying to recall the last time he’d ever been in an Argos whilst Teddy scrolled through the selection on one of their many reserve machines.

“Do they have Lego for everything?” He found himself asking the kid, who was propped up on his hip to better view the screen. Because it seemed it; flowers, cars, fucking aeroplanes- they even had a red telephone box that Matty couldn’t imagine any kid choosing.

Teddy managed to spot a set made up of parts for a Passenger Train that cost almost an arm and a leg, but Matty added it to his basket all the same, as well as the Pac-Man mini arcade they sold, which had been staring at him the entire time. 

What? It looked sick and he figured that he’d need something to do whilst Teddy messed about with his train.

So they paid and the bloke at the collection point seemed to sort of recognise Matty, going off of the faces he was making, but the guy only gave him a strained sort of smile and then a nod when he’d called out their number. 

He and Teddy were slow to set off again, Matty trying to wrangle the boxes of Lego he was now carrying whilst also keeping hold of the kid in his care, questioning when the hell Lego sets had gotten so fucking big. Didn’t they all used to come in plastic boxes or some shit?

He managed it anyway and they wandered about window shopping before Teddy finally spotted an ice cream shop up ahead. 

Matty was honest to God thankful for it, the bags were growing heavier as Teddy dragged him every which way and the chance to finally sit down gave him an opportunity to shoot off another text to Mouse. Although she hadn’t replied to his last, he knew that was mostly down to her being on air.

“Still can’t believe you got bubblegum.” Matty admonished once they’d sat down at a table, he wrinkled his nose at the blue monstrosity the kid seemed to be enjoying. 

“I like it!” Teddy giggled in kind, even though he was eyeing up the scoop of cookie dough Matty had picked for himself.

With a humoured smile, Matty gestured for him to pass over his spoon, one of those tiny little plastic ones that came in an assortment of five colours. Teddy eyed him suspiciously but did hand it over, resting his chin on the tops of the forearms he had crossed over the table.

Matty handed it back after taking a large chunk out of his cup and got to watch the way Teddy’s face brightened at the taste. “Like it?” He asked after the boy had licked the spoon clean and then chuckled when he got a hasty nod in reply. “Guess we can share then.”

Teddy seemed to like the idea, even more so once he’d given Matty a spoonful of his own and watched the way his face had screwed up at the horrific flavour.

“Grim.” Matty said around a cough, wanting to rid himself of the taste.

“G’im.” Teddy butchered the mimic, which only made Matty choke on his cough before spluttering into laughter.

“Yeah, mate. Exactly.”

They spent the next half an hour there, Teddy talking to Matty about the train set he’d gotten and then about how he really wanted to drive one when he was older. Which led them to, “What you do, Matty?”

Matty slumped further into his seat at the question and smiled over at the boy, “I’m in a band.”

Adorably, Teddy’s face scrunched up into a confused sort of frown at that, though it was made even sweeter by the array of ice cream he had littering the outside of his gob.

With a faint chuckle, Matty pulled out his phone and went onto YouTube, clicking the first video that popped up after typing in their name. He slid it across the table for Teddy to look at and got to see the way the kid’s eyes widened when he spotted Matty come up on the screen. 

Sure, his hair had been bleached to shit and he looked a hell of a lot younger, but it was still him. And Teds could see that.

“You.” Teddy breathed out, blinking down at the phone as TOOTIME started to play.

Matty snorted to himself and was merely thankful for the fact that the shop was loud enough to cover up the sound of his music playing. Because the last thing he wanted was to be spotted by a couple of fans asking for pictures when he was out and alone with Teddy.

“Singin’?” 

Matty blinked at the question, having lost himself in his previous thought, but then nodded. “Yeah, and see all those other people?” He mentioned, gesturing to the girl who cropped up next, “They’re like miming, pretending to sing it.” He added after Teddy had given him a puzzled tilt of his head. 

Teddy listened to the rest of the song play out after that, pointing to Matty everytime he was seen, as well as bouncing along. He made the decision to press play on the next music video before Matty could stop him, and he gasped when he recognised it.

Which cleared up that question on whether or not Mouse had actually been lying when she had claimed to like his music. He snorted at the thought. 

Matty let Teddy listen to it, grinning at the way he sang along to the chorus of Girls.

By the time they managed to escape the shop, having finished their ice cream long before, Teds had gotten to play a majority of their songs and was humming something vaguely recognisable to himself whilst they walked up the highstreet back the way they’d come. 

Looking back, Matty could see that he’d been distracted by it all. By the weight of the bags he carried and having to keep a constant hold of Teddy’s hand. Then by the way Teds was jumping along happily and singing up at Matty each chance he got. Too distracted that he didn’t seem to notice the oncomer until it was too late.

“Matty, mate!”

It was a reaction and a half the way his head shot up at the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in years, not too far from snapping his neck clean off in fact. 

His eyes darted to the man who had started to stumble his way over to them, the grin on his face clearly hit induced, before Matty’s gaze dropped down towards Teddy, who seemed to step back on instinct and crowd himself behind Matty’s legs.

“Been fucking too long, man! How you been!”

Matty tried not to wince at how brash the bloke was, as well as the way he got too close for comfort so that he could thump him heartily on the shoulder in greeting. 

“Yeah, too long.” He muttered, keeping a strong hold on Teddy’s hand and fighting the urge to look down at him, not wanting to draw any real attention to the boy. “Look, mate, I’m a bit busy-” He said and tried to gesture the hand holding the Argos bags out to show exactly that, but his words were trampled all over.

“What the hell you doin’ in these ends then? Thought you were livin’ up on the Heath.”

Matty gritted his teeth. “Moved a bit ago, man.”

“Ah, no shit! Bet it’s as nice as the old place was though, remember the time I fucked that posh girl in your hot tub.” 

For fucks sake.

“Look, man, I’ve really got to get going.” Matty attempted once more, and was already pivoting on his feet to try and get past the loudmouth twat. It had been too long since he’d last seen Ziggy and he’d have much preferred to have kept it that way. 

“Nah, come on, let’s catch up! I know I skipped out Luke’s funeral and that, but the kid wouldn’t have wanted us lot there at his send off.” Ziggy chuckled, showcasing the chipped front tooth he was widely known for. “Got a couple e’s on me, but you can call up your guy, have a party, yeah?”

In his life, Matty had come close to dying a couple of times. He had fucking overdosed, choked on his own sick, threatened to top himself, and done some incredibly stupid shit that had almost lost him his head. But never had he ever felt a feeling like this. His guts wanted to upend themselves onto the very pavement he stood on, along with all the rest of the blood and the bones his poor excuse for a body was made up of. 

“I’m clean.”

Ziggy laughed loudly at his croaked reply, drawing more attention to the three of them than he already had, and Matty didn’t know whether or not he’d crumble then and there, or if he’d just end up punching the fucker.

“Always been a funny kid, I told ‘em that!”

Matty steeled his jaw and forced down the lump of bile that wanted to escape. “I’m clean.” He repeated, stronger this time around, grinding down on his teeth so hard that it felt like they’d shatter in his mouth.

Ziggy stopped laughing then and kissed his teeth, “Another one down.” He shook his head, in actual disappointment, “And to think you were once sound. Just another one of them rich toffs, aintcha?” He scoffed and Matty had to bite his tongue. “Tryna act hard.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

Matty went to walk away then, shuffling Teddy along with him, who was very much clinging to the back of his jeans now. It was that motion which caught Ziggy’s attention. 

“Oh shit! Matt, you’ve got a kid!” His loud and brazen cackle rattled through Matty and forced the rest of the goers littering the street to glance their way. “What, you knock up some bird, is that it? Bet she’s rinsin’ you out of all that money you made, ey rockstar?”

It was thoughtless but Matty went for him then, catching the prick by the edge of his cheap jacket and trying not to gag at the stench that fell off him. “You’ve no fucking clue, alright? So take your loud mouth and your fucking e’s, and do one.”

He gave Ziggy a hard shove, desperate to get him away, and then swallowed thickly at the realisation of what he’d just done. But still, Matty held himself strong, picking up the bag he hadn’t realised he’d dropped whilst keeping his eyes fixed on the man. He recaptured Teddy’s hand all too quickly and started to walk away.

In the time it must’ve taken him to do that though, Ziggy had righted himself and dropped the surprise. Matty heard him spit at their retreating backs, missing, but only just, and then he called out, “Yeah, walk on, Healy! But I know your type. You’ll come back, they always fucking do!”

The sound of his laughter echoed down the street and it followed Matty most of their way home.

His body shook with raw tension, jaw clenched so tightly shut that it hurt when he thought about it. But he couldn’t think about it, not then, not with what had just gone down. Not with what Teddy had- God, what Teddy had seen. 

Mouse would skin him for this. 

That thought alone broke something deep inside of him. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Matty?”

The world seemed to stop at the call of his name.

Matty loosened his tight hold on Teddy’s hand and inhaled before he turned to look at him. 

“I’m sorry.” He heard himself say, wishing it had been more than just a cowardly fucking whisper. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Teddy only smiled up at him, it was careful and wary, but fuck it was genuine. And it made Matty want to cry all the same.

How. How had he fucked up this badly.

“It’s ‘kay, Matty.” Teddy tried to soothe him. 

And at his words, Matty got down on his knees to run a hand through the boy's hair. “It’s not, and I’m sorry.”

Matty shook his head, hating himself more and more.

But he tried to smile. He had to, for Teddy.

“We ‘kay, Matty.” Teddy murmured, reaching up a hand to touch the bone of Matty’s cheek. Matty wondered how strong his resolve truly was when he just about managed to bite back the sob that threatened to choke him. “We ‘kay. Just a bad man.”

“A bad man.” Matty sniffed, pulling Teddy in close to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, mate. Just a bad man.”

“Can’t tell mama.”

Matty froze at that, his mouth ghosting over the boy’s temple.

Slowly, he pulled away, hand falling to the back of Teddy’s head, cradling it carefully. “It’s okay, Teds. Nothing will happen.”

But Teddy shook his head adamantly, “No, can’t tell! Mama worry.”

Oh.

Matty smiled, it was fucking sorrowful and full of self-pity, but he managed it for this sweet boy. “It’ll be okay, Teds. I swear.”

Though he wondered truly if it would.

“Can’t, Matty. Can’t!” Teddy looked like he was about to start sobbing then and there, his bottom lip wobbling whilst his eyes filled with tears, “Don’t tell!”

“But why, Teddy?” 

It was all that Matty could think to ask, to say.

“No upset, for mama, for Matty.”

Christ, Matty had really fucked up this time.

“No tell.” Teddy repeated again, unaware of how his words made Matty’s heart break. “Matty. No tell.”

And then he was sobbing, aimlessly and hopelessly into Matty’s chest. 

Matty held him near, rubbing a hand up and down the boy’s back whilst simultaneously wishing he could take everything back. That he could go back to this morning and never leave the flat. Never make that fucking offer.

He just wasn’t cut out for this.

He wasn’t-

Teddy’s fingers clung to the hoodie he wore with a strength that scared Matty a little, chest heaving with his quiet cries. “Okay, Teddy.” Matty murmured brokenly, trying to lull his crying with a soft and stuttered hush, “It’s okay, Teddy. I won’t tell. It’s okay.”

#the 1975 #fic #matty healy #angst #radio host #reader #x reader #x you #george daniel #ross macdonald #the 1975 band #adam hann #fluff #humour #smut #matty healy fic #matty 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy x you #ao3 #fame #strangers to lovers #mum reader #kid fic #getting together #SLOWBURN #mutual pining #Warnings #aipoban

[werentwethestarsinheaven]

our hearts.

matty healy x female reader

a/n: here’s a small something i wrote as a little part 2 to at your back door as a thank you for giving it so much love!

You were hesitant at first. You were scared. Scared to lend him your heart again, not realising it was already permanently etched into his hands.

You and Matty soundtrack your seasons to the EP he wrote for you. He strums his guitar and hums softly, competing with the singing birds in the Spring and the icy rain spitting on the windows in the Winter. He’s told you now, of course. He's famous. He's an international rockstar who gets on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans desperately reaching out for him. But he’s also yours. Your sweet little Matty. Always there to kiss your heart so gently and hold you tenderly. You miss him while he’s gone. But you miss him even when he’s right next to you. Love simply isn’t enough for you and him.

When he’s gone, he still sends you postcards. ‘To My Darling’.

He still calls you. “Hello my beautiful Darling.”

That's your name.

You sit on your back steps waiting for him to come home from tour. Sometimes a thought poisons your mind and tells you he’s not coming home. Sometimes he doesn’t, and you fall asleep curled in the armchair by the door still waiting for him. You don’t worry though. You always wake to the smell of fresh coffee and cigarettes and you feel a warmth radiating from your heart. He’s home. He’s picked you up and carried you to bed. And you’re lying there in his arms, letting the sun soak into you and your soul.

“Darling, hurry up and come here, I already miss you,” Matty whines for you from the living room. You roll your eyes with affection, knowing you’ve only been apart for less than 10 minutes. Your feet pad down the hallway, hair still wet from your bath, leaving a trail of droplets on the hardwood floors. The day has slipped away into the evening and the sun has said it’s goodbyes. He came home a few hours ago, from New Zealand. Whenever he comes home to you it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time again. His gorgeous curls and his golden honey eyes and the stubbly jaw that’s etched into the softest parts of your body. There was exhaustion eating away at his cheeks as he smiled at you fondly, standing at your doorway with open arms. He’d come home at the perfect time for you to lounge together under the setting sun. He slept softly against your chest and you ran your fingers through his hair. Scraping over his scalp in circles and swirling patterns, reminding yourself he’s home and he’s here and he’s yours.

His curls are now damp too. He'd climbed out of your shared bath a few minutes before you, claiming the water was getting too cold for him and urged you to take your time, leaving with a kiss on your forehead. He’s standing there in the middle of your living room, cotton t-shirt on his fresh skin and vintage sweatpants hanging off his hips. He stands there with a smile glowing over his face, illuminated by the lamp in the corner and the small candles lit across the room. He belongs here. Just like the couch and the small television and the persian rug at his feet, like the pot plants that spread their vines and roots across the entire house. This is his home.

He pulls you into his arms, and you dig your face into the front of his chest. He smells like lemons and spring and nag champa.

“Mmm you already smell like me,” you muffle. He holds you so closely, chin resting on top of your damp hair.

“I missed you so much, so so much” he says, voice slightly shaking.

“Hey,” you look up at him. His eyes are welling but he’s smiling. He’s got that look of hope and unconditional love.

You’re worried he doesn’t know how much you miss him when he’s gone. How you always choose his mug from the cabinet on the days that are especially cold. The way you put off washing your sheets for weeks when he leaves, never washing his pillow until the day before he returns, making sure you can always smell his cigarettes and sandalwood cologne. The way you lay awake at night, panicking when you realise you’ve forgotten the lyrics for the second verse of the ‘Autumn’ song he wrote for you, desperately raking through your collection of memories with him to remember. The way you kiss and hold every postcard he sends, swearing you can still feel his electric touch through the thin cardboard. The way you stare at the ceiling and whisper to him goodnight every night before you fall asleep, wishing he was there next to you, wishing he could hear you, wishing that he’d appear in your dreams that night. The way you crawl up into a ball on the couch and sob until your eyes are raw once he’s hung up, clutching your phone to your chest and exhausted from trying to hide your anguished yearning for the past hour.

You don’t know that he goes almost mad without you too. The way he snaps at George on the tour bus in the mornings because you’re not there in the cramped kitchen to sweetly pass him his favourite mug and because the coffee tastes like shit. The way he doesn’t wash one of his shirts for the entire time he’s gone, keeping it safely in his suitcase and preserving the smell of your lavender body wash that seeped into the cotton as you wore it religiously to bed every night. The way he spends most of his nights writing song after song in his moleskin, so he has a miriad to sing to you once he returns home. The way he presses a soft kiss to each postcard he sends home to you, hoping his love will still reach you over the vast seas that keep you apart. The way he dreams of you in his sleep, of your giggles and naked skin in the glowing sun and groaning with frustration when he awakens in the morning to realise that you’re nowhere near the blinding sun that blares through the curtains of his tour bus bunk. The way he loses track of time after he forcefully hangs up on the phone to you, staring at his lockscreen of your smiling face, tears wetting his pillow as the thought of you being right there in the pixels of his phone comforts his racing mind.

“There’s not a minute that passes where I don’t think about you, probably not even a single second,” you reassure him, pressing kisses to his beautiful nose and cupid's bow.

“Me too darling, me too.”

You both stand there in silence, breathing each other in and absentmindedly nipping at each other’s faces. After the silence has sunken into you comfortably, he pulls away from you and asks if you’d press play on the record player while he grabs the bottle of wine he brought back for you from New Zealand.

He doesn’t even get to reach the cabinet for the wine glasses when he hears you gasp.

“Matty, what is this?” Tears sting your eyes.

It’s a physical record of his songs for you. You no longer have to wring your brain out of it’s every drop to remember exactly how he sings them for you. The cover is a picture of you both laying on your favourite sunlounger, your head in Matty’s lap and his hand pressed to your chest, right onto your heart. You gather Hann must’ve snapped it with his film camera the day after Matty officially moved in and you threw a party in the garden to celebrate. ‘For My Darling’s Lonely Heart’ is written in his handwriting across the bottom. He’s standing by your side now, hands holding your waist and he leans to kiss away the tears that roll down your cheeks. You flip the record and the back cover is a quadrant of pictures. One from each season, a simple picture of your willow tree. From the deep green flourishes of leaves in the Summer to the piles of orange leaves in the Autumn, its freezing branches covered in snow in the Winter and the wildflowers that welcome the newborn green in the Spring.

“It’s perfect.” You whisper, choking on tears. “I love it.”

The day after Matty comes home from tour is always your favourite. Time stretches out in front of you endlessly, you find comfort and security knowing there’s weeks if not months until he has to leave again. You slip back into your shared life. Two pairs of mugs in the dishwasher and two pairs of boots by the backdoor. Two toothbrushes lining the bathroom sink and two towels dripping, hanging up to dry. Walks down to the park, hand in hand and stolen kisses. Trips to the grocery store, arms overflowing with groceries and each other. Laughter and whispers and moans.

But there’s yelling too. Matty’s only been home for three weeks when he steps out into the garden to answer a phone call, Jamie Oborne’s name glowing urgently. You were both curled on the couch all afternoon watching a movie he had suggested you’d love. It had been paused for 20 minutes as you shredded apart the loose threads of the crochet blanket wrapped around you, watching anxiously as Matty grew more and more frustrated and was pacing aggressively on the patio. Until he hung up with anger and huffed back inside, head falling into his hands as he slumped back onto the couch. Your hand fell to his back and drew circles soothingly, lips kissing at his ear, the blood in his veins immediately cooling down.

“I have to leave for London tomorrow morning, some legal bullshit to do with the label,” he murmurs hesitantly, almost scared for what your reaction could bring.

“Okay,” you whisper into his neck.

He pulls away roughly, standing up to face you. “Okay???”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Okay.” You repeat again, more emphasis on the casualty of your tone, like he’s just told you he needs to head down to the shops for some more milk. His face is contorted with pain and betrayal.

“What do you mean okay? Do you want me to go or something? Want me to leave you?” His voice is raising, yelling and tears are pooling in his eyes.

“Oh so you want to get rid of me now? I thought you needed me? Won’t you miss me?” He blabbers on.

“Matty, baby stop,” you grab his hands and pull him back down to you.

“I meant okay as in I’m okay. We’re okay.” He grows silent.

“I’m okay with you gone because I’m used to it. My heart is used to waiting for you. And that’s okay and you’re okay and we’re always going to be okay.” You smile at him, continuing, voice shaking. “It’s okay because I love you.”

A tear rolls down his face, his lungs finally expand again.

“Oh Darling, I’m in love with you too.”

It’s the next morning. You’re leaning against the doorway, watching the curls on his head bounce as he walks down the path and to the car on the street waiting to take him to the airport. He stops halfway and abruptly drops his bags, running up the stairs and you giggle as he lifts you up to spin you around in his arms. Your chest is pressed into his face as he muffles, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Spilling every word from his heart directly into yours and repeating it until your heartbeat starts to mimic the pace of his words. He kisses you sweetly and you both know it’s always going to be okay. He quickly races back down to his bags as the car beeps its horn impatiently. He takes one look back at you and he waves. You blow him a kiss, watching the car peel away and fade over the horizon. You stand there at the doorway so dazed, you think the car is probably halfway to the airport by the time you step back inside.

Your heart is full and as it overflows, Matty is always right there to catch every drop in his open arms. You’re carrying his heart in your arms too.

You walk over to the record player and grab Matty’s record, your record. With a pen and a shaking hand you neatly press it to the glossed cover.

‘For My Darling’s Lonely Heart’

You press play and his angelic voice floods the room.

#matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fic #matty healy smut #the 1975 #the 1975 fic

[everythingdenied]

showers-matty healy

a/n: this could be the longest authors note ever because my moral compass is still fighting for its life regarding whether i should be posting this or not. but imma spare you all of that because my writing is supposed to be escapism so pls ignore that me & the boyf are fighting irl rn and enjoy me being a whore mwah. i feel like im rly holding back on how slutty things can get cause im too scared to be too specific in my smut but...we shall see xxx

warnings: overall filthy smut warning tbh, fem!reader, me not proofreading oops wc: 1,727

A satisfied sigh fell from my lips as I stepped into the shower, sliding the glass door shut. The water was scalding but, after the day I'd had, it's heat felt somewhat cathartic and I didn't bothered adjusting the temperature, instead standing content beneath the warm stream.

The dull ache in my muscles slowly ebbed away and I let my eyes fall shut, listening to the perfectly monotonous trickle of water against the cool tile floor. I hummed gladly, my hand almost instinctively falling to cup my breasts, kneading them in a somewhat fruitless attempt at alleviating the stress of a long day at work.

I knew my own touch could never compare to his and, oftentimes, pursuing my undo without him there was futile. However, he was at the studio for the foreseeable and I needed some sort of release now; my fingers and the shower head were going to have to suffice for the time being.

Inhaling sharply, I rolled my nipples between the pads of my fingers, head falling back against the tile wall behind me. The water cascaded down my naked body like morning sunlight and I traced the droplets, right hand dipping lower to the centre of my arousal with a shaky moan. I felt my body loosen as I slowly circled my clit, the familiar sensation only reminding me of him. How he'd touched me exactly like this on the studio couch last night, barely waiting for George to leave before his eager hands were pulling at the waistband of my joggers.

Unfulfilled, I hastened my pace, fingers working desperately to bring me to some sort of climax. His name slipped through my parted lips in a slew of low whimpers, echoing around the small room, and I twitched with needy anticipation, a familiar warmth settling in my abdomen. I was completely caught up in the feeling, so focused on my own pleasure that I hadn't heard Matty return home early, nor had I noticed him enter the bathroom.

“You called?”

Snapping my eyes open, I gasped, hands jerking away from my pussy as if they'd just touched a hot stove. Empty, unsatisfied and wracked with adrenaline, I looked in the direction of the voice, finding my boyfriend leaning in the doorway of the bathroom, amused.

"Shit, Matty" I breathed out through a nervous chuckle, hands clasped against my thumping chest. "You scared the life out of me."

He smirked, eyes dragging over my naked, glistening body as he pushed himself away from the doorframe, hands deep in the pockets of his dress pants.

"I did knock, but..." Matty gestured in my general direction and I blushed, averting my gaze elsewhere. A silence settled over the room, save for the flow of water, and I stood, nude and vulnerable as my boyfriend watched me wriggle in discomfort, the embarrassment of being caught only heightening my burning arousal. Detecting the yearning thick in the air, Matty strode closer, sliding the shower door open. Hot steam spilled into the room. "Need help?"

I pursed my lips, somewhat abashed, and nodded, watching as Matty wasted no time in undoing his shirt. Soon free of his clothes, my boyfriend joined me beneath the water, toned abs flexing as he hissed at its searing temperature. He snaked an arm around my waist, pulling me close to his body so that the two of us stood pressed up chest to chest, warm water beading off our bare backs and eyes boring into each others. 

"Greedy girl" Matty tittered lowly, carefully lifting my jaw with two fingers. I only blinked up at him, pupils blown wide with lust. "Couldn't even wait till I got home, ay?"

He drew me closer, his hard on throbbing against my core, a stark reminder of how painfully empty I was. I whimpered, wordless under his touch, and he watched, his thumb grazing my bottom lip. Jutting my hips forward, I slowly rolled them against his bare crotch, feeling him harden.

"Mph, please, Matt..." I practically begged for his touch; for him to do something, anything. But, too stubborn to give in easy, he only shook his head, hands carding through my dampened locks.

"Not so fast, love" he hummed, his tone laced with an almost sadistic amusement as his hand, which was previously gripping my jaw, travelled slowly to my breasts. "Wanna take my time with you..."

I frowned, feeling as if I was soon going to implode if I didn't come in the next few minutes. Had it been any other day, I would have basked in the prospect of Matty's endless teasing, enjoying the rare occasions when he'd take his sweet time with me instead of bringing me to orgasm in a flurry of fervent movements. However, today had been long and stressful and my body yearned for release, not twenty minutes of merciless edging.

"Baby..." I groaned as Matty moved at a snails pace, head dipped as he softly kissed stray droplets from my collarbone, one hand cupping my right breast. He hummed in acknowledgment but said nothing, rough tongue now brushing past my puckered nipples. "W-want you."

"And you'll have me." He breathed, fingers dancing across my neck as the both of us stood beneath the warm spray. "S'called patience, beautiful."

"Don't wanna be patient" I whined and my boyfriend chuckled lowly, his ego likely inflating tenfold with each desperate plea I made.

Focusing his attention on my tits for a little while, I found myself becoming more and more worked up, barely able to contain myself when he moved a hand down to cup my pussy. It ached to be touched and, taking pity on me, Matty did just that, slipping two fingers inside, coating them in my arousal. I let out a strangled gasp, feeling him pump his fingers in and out of me, his pace leisurely.

"Shit, Love" Matty smirked, slowly adding a third finger, stretching out my desperate pussy. "You're dripping. You been wanting me all day?"

I nodded, rocking my hips along in time with his movements, feeling my body prickle with goosebumps despite the burning hot water trickling down my back. Fearing I'd only sound pathetic if I tried to speak, I said nothing, instead focusing on the way his fingers curled deep inside me, noting the familiar callouses.

"Needy little thing." He rasped and, even with my head in the crook of his neck and my eyes shut tight, I could hear the egoic sneer in his voice as he brought me closer to release. His movements became more hasty and, despite his vow to 'take his time' with me, I soon found myself empty, being pressed up against the steamy glass door, my hand wrapped around the base of his cock as I pumped him sloppily. He groaned, throaty and visceral, and grabbed the back of my thighs, thumbs digging into my soft flesh. "Jump f'me."

Not one to argue, I did what was asked of me, allowing Matty to lift me, back against the glass and legs wrapped around his torso. The position was somewhat awkward and I couldn't help but giggle at the impracticality of it all, arms draping around my partner's neck in a feeble attempt at keeping myself steady.

"I'm definitely gonna fall on my arse like this, Matty."

Matty only laughed and shook his head, swallowing my laughter with a kiss, his damp curls sticking to his forehead. "Nah, i've got you, gorgeous" He hummed against my lips, keeping a surprisingly firm grip on my ass. "You're alright."

Giving me a moment to adjust to the position, Matty teased my entrance, his cock throbbing against my needy cunt as he let me take an inch or two. He watched with lusty intent, mouth slightly agape as he slowly but surely filled me, our bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. He was closer than ever, radiating sex and warmth, his breath fanning my cheek as he inhaled the scent of my peach shampoo.

It was intimate sex. Desperate, but intimate. Matty's thrusts were somewhat careful, making sure to hit every single one of my sweet spots as if he had something to prove. His lips roamed my every inch of skin, sucking bright purple hickies onto my neck as his length slid in and out of me, the room echoing with the filthy sound of skin against skin. I moaned softly, head falling into the crook of his neck

"I know, baby. I know. Better than your fuckin' hand, yeah?" Matty cooed, his tone syrupy as he rutted into me with great depravity. "Bet your hand can't even reach half the places I do."

Of course it couldn't and he knew it. Nor could my hands have me on the very cusp of white hot pleasure in a matter of minutes, backed up against the shower wall, begging for them to let me cum.

"Sound so pretty when you beg, love" He mumbled, words slurring together in pleasure. He was getting close too, I could tell. His thrusts were growing messy and lacked rhythm and he practically choked on his words. "Such a good girl. Who makes you cum like this, huh?" "Y-you do. Only you."

His name fell from my lips, each syllable feeding his ego as he brought me closer and closer to the edge, only allowing me to let go when he neared his own undo, mumbling every curse word under the sun. I clenched around him, growing full with his release as it coated my insides, warm and plenty, dribbling down my thighs.

He was right. My hand's couldn't do that. Nor could they lovingly pull me close in a post-sex haze, siting down with me beneath the warm spray of the shower head, skin to skin, recovering. They couldn't love me or draw me to their chest and, with lidded eyes and a droopy smile, press a kiss to my forehead.

“Better than having a wank?” Matty teased, breathing laboured. I said nothing, rolling my eyes as my head fell to his shoulder. “Could have called me. Y'know I'll always drop everything f'your pussy."

"Didn't wanna bother you in the studio." I mumbled and Matty chuckled lowly, pulling me closer beneath the now somewhat tepid water.

"Oh yeah, cause getting to fuck my missus in the shower is such a bother." 

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader

[justlikemebutsixfootthree]

inhibitions -

pairing:  matty healy x f!reader

content:  this is soft, cannabis use, unprotected sex, overstimulation kinda?

wordcount: 835

this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.

a/n: first tumblr fic and it’s porn. i’m starting strong!

getting high with matty has to be your favourite past-time.

you do the same thing every time - he lets himself into your apartment, you share a spliff, and he fucks you.

it’s always lazy; with low, obscene words either whispered against your lips or gasped into the crook of your neck. his nose inches from yours and his curls brushing against your forehead. it’s always face to face; sometimes with your back pressed against the sofa, sometimes he’s crowding you against a wall. warm breath wafts across your lips, and you can practically taste the earthy smell of the weed. it makes you light-headed sometimes - the combination of matty’s stupid french cologne and the cheap weed. 

your fingers tease the curls on the back of his neck, and your voice breaks into a moan as you murmur his name and tell him just how well he’s doing. the combination of the praise and the weed has him whining, and his words come stuttering in response.

honestly? the fact that you have that effect on THE matty healy?? it might be your favourite part.

“good boy,” you whisper. “just like that.” your fingers twist into his roots and you tug - hard. the resulting pain is dulled by the high and matty only gasps, mouth agape. his lips are bruised and red from the catch of your repeated kisses. dimly, you think about how perfect he looks when he’s stuttering into you like this.

“so pretty,” you whisper. “you’re so fucking pretty.”

matty’s face lowers and he pants into the crook of your neck. his mouth is soft as he peppers kisses across your skin. your legs tighten around him, pulling his body even closer to you. his cock drags in and out of your core - the stretch drawing a low moan from your lips. his tip rubs that spot deep inside you and a breathy moan leaves your lips, fingers tightening so that your nails bite into the skin of his shoulders. 

matty watches the way your face contorts in pleasure as you take him all in, “so good to me,” he brings his hands onto your hip and squeezes it. 

bringing a hand up to your scalp, his fingers curl around strands of hair as he pulls them. the action causes your mouth to open with a moan, and he takes the opportunity to yank you into a fervent kiss, the clash of teeth and tongue making him grin lazily against your lips. 

“takin’ me so well doll,” he mumbles against your lips, his desperate hands moving beneath your thin t-shirt. 

“how’re you so—fuck, big,” you whine, throwing your head back in pleasure.

matty chuckles, and you can feel the vibrations from where his mouth is tucked into your neck. he’s breathing hard, and he lets out a whimper that's almost pathetic. almost immediately, that coil holding you tight, snaps and all at once you're gasping, thighs a deadly grip around his waist. the warmth mixes with the weed haze, leaving your mind floating when you finally come - clenching around him and seeing stars. 

"shit - i-i’m cumming."  your walls flex and spasm around his length and matty thinks he might pass out. it takes him a little longer, it always does when he’s high. the weed dulls his senses, and therefore the sensitivity of his cock. he stops his deep thrusts and pulls out, in favour of hooking his hands behind your knees and pushing your thighs towards your chest. snickers when he hears you squeak in protest, your face scrunching up in a wince when you feel the stretch in your legs from being folded in half. matty slips his head in the small space between your raised legs, and kisses you hard. your breath catches when his chest squishes your thighs further, feeling his throbbing cock hovering over your leaking cunt. 

he moans unabashedly as he drives into you again, your calves resting on his broad shoulders as you fist the sheets next to your head. broken whines fill matty’s ears and he pulses even more, cock twitching inside you. your face is slick with sweat and tears. it’s so messy but so fucking hot at the same time and the tension in your thighs is nothing but a delicious pain as matty presses into you.

“gonna make sure you’re full of my cum, alright? i got you, don’t worry,” matty grunts as his large hands fist the pillow your head is resting on. he bites at your neck, moaning when he feels you clench around his cock.

when you tighten around him he shudders and drives himself impossibly deeper into your sobbing cunt. he lets go and a low groan vibrates through his chest as he releases into you.

you curl your fingers through his - now matted and sweaty - hair and listen to him pant and gasp as he gathers himself. when he eventually rolls his body off yours, a smile twists your lips.

“i’ve got another spliff somewhere if you want?”

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#matty ⎕ ‧₊˚ #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #matty healy #fanfic #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 imagine #matty healy smut #matty healy drabble #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #the 1975 matty #the 1975 imagines #the 1975 preference #the 1975 preferences #the 1975 one shot #the 1975 one shots #the 1975 fanfiction #matt healy #matthew healy #matty healy preference #matty healy imagine #matty healy imagines #matty healy preferences #matty healy one shot #matty healy one shots #matty healy fanfiction

[lottiecrabie]

pray for my soul. part two – matty healy

after a peculiar dream, you pay a necessary visit to the confessional. too bad your sins follow you even in the holiest places.

warnings: 18+, masturbation, roleplay, hint of choking, religious imagery, blasphemy, desecration of a confessional lmao

part two of five

4351 words

Mess of black hair, sweating and sticking to skin. A jaw that cuts. You bleed down your chin. You lick; it’s metallic; it’s ashy; it’s sweet. The taste coats your tongue, but still you dive for more. Your lips graze a throat, barely there, as if you were afraid of what it would mean to touch. Adam’s apple bobs. You bite. You consume. 

A groan, slightly discordant. Roll of head, neck barred. You could destroy. You could swallow whole, let it bloom in your stomach. Your fingers grip two shoulders—suddenly, shoulders exist. 

The world is slow, hazy. You move against something and pleasure drips down your veins. You moan, but the sound never leaves your lips. 

You find familiar scars. You draw them, again and again, like your morning prayers. They’re rugged and real. Something of a thought sprouts behind your brain, but it’s pushed away by the resonating shudder from two rough hands finding your hips — and, God, how good it feels to have hips. 

To have hips, and thighs, and skin. To have a belly, flexed and tensed, coiling with flaming pleasure. To have ribs, reverberating the sound of your beating heart — thump thump thump, a melody he pianoes on the bones. To have a neck, kissed and licked, hair pushed carelessly. To have a chest, bared and free, ready for the taking. 

To have a pussy, begging, crying; throwing your head back when two known fingers fill it. You scream to the heavens, grinding your newborn hips, chasing some high you’ve never met but know exists. It’s in your very DNA, the possibility of it, the taste of what it could be. 

Holiness is a fire. It is not to be smothered, stifled, hidden under a smile. You embrace it, letting it lick your limbs and coil around your brain, melting it down. It drips down your spine; you drip on his wrist. 

More, you think, or perhaps cry. More more more more. Your hips rock, meeting him. Bliss threatens the edges of you. You’re boiling under your skin.

“Sorry,” he says, licking your bloody chin. “I’m sorry. I’ll get on my knees.” 

Your eyes split open. 

Gasping, your chest rises and falls frantically. You take hasty breaths, trying to catch it before it runs from you. Your room blurs around you. It’s dark, the moon filtering through the blinds. You barely make sense of your bed, of the fluffy carpet under it, of the cross watching over you. Dreamlike surreality still coats your brain.

Your thighs are uncomfortably sticky. You moan, frustrated and unpleased, just on the edge of a cliff. Huffing, you sneak a hand under your pink pajama pants. You scrunch your face close, as if you could blind yourself to reason when a tentative finger nears your sensitive bud. 

You bite your lip as you draw a circle around it, hips jumping in surprise. There’s a long lick of pleasure up your thighs. You press firmer, rubbing a hazardous pattern, thoughtless except for the rolling waves of euphoria. You muffle your small cries, legs kicking as you pant. 

You pass through your dreams in minute details. 

The mane of hair, falling around him like some dark halo. Red, vicious lips, panting. You swipe a thumb on them, sucking it inside your mouth like you could macrodose on the taste of him. Shoulders and hips and skin. Fingers dipping inside, curling.

Smaller, sloppier hands work furiously at your clit, drawing turmoils of hot ecstasy out of you. Your skin feels feverish, but still it is not enough. 

Not a smile: a smirk. Matty Healy looks up at you, arm flexing as he thrusts his fingers inside of you. They’re bigger than yours, longer with wide knuckles, and they’d fill you up so perfectly, crafting a place for himself in the deepest parts of your cunt. You’d throb around him; you’d fall apart. 

You grab your breast, clutching it, pinching a nipple in mimicry memory. It doesn’t have the same mind-blowing effect, but it does make you moan nonetheless. Desperate, you chew on your swollen lips. 

Matty has rougher hands, too. Calluses from playing guitar, all those songs about sex and drugs he vaguely mumbles during music class. They left an imprint on your silky skin, scrubbed and soaped clean, in the dark of a hallway. The feel of the tough pad on your bundle of nerves, rubbing and circling and—

Your thighs close, trapping your hand in. It’s harder to touch in the enclosed space, but you still you furiously swipe. Your toes curl, neck falling back. You slap a hand over your mouth, hiding a near scream. 

Two fingers in, one thumbing your clit. Some brash smile, cooing and pouting as he gets you closer and closer to the edge, like it was all so silly of you to even resist. Scattered moans; he breathes with you, hard on your thigh. A hand travels to your tits — you twist harder, meaner, arching your back to beg for a missing hand — he strokes, that callus unmistakable on your virgin skin. He must leave a trace behind. Must leave you scarred, weathered. 

Matty doesn’t stop, of course. He’s a force in motion, unstoppable, gone before you ever pin him down. He’s on your neck again, a ghost of a hand. Your cross rests between your collarbones, but he goes straight for the throat. Thoughts float in your brain, untethered. Your brain rushes. You’re drunk, on the air and on him and on the heady feeling of near inexistence. You are not a girl; you are a body. He presses harder. 

Circles and eights and hard swipes, and yet you’re not there yet. Your cunt clenches around nothing, pitifully empty, practically pleading for some kind of release. You frown, trying to fall from somewhere — somewhere far, somewhere high. Hope it destroys you as you land. Hope it ruins you. 

Matty would ruin you. He already does. Brick by brick, he undoes you, unravels the carefully spool of a girl. You want him. He’s there. He’s— He’s just— 

Your index finger trails to your entrance. Sheepishly, you linger over it, playing with the sea spreading down your legs. 

Just— Just a little. Something to shatter you so you can stop thinking. So you can exist as shards, as reflections of light, as infinites. 

A knuckle inside of you. But he’d— he’d make himself home. You want him to be home. 

God can wait for a minute. God can close his eyes. God can— 

You’re electroshocked into reality. God can see you. 

Staring in front of you is your golden cross, nailed to the wall. Your eyes lock with your savior, crying and bleeding while you— 

Blushing, still panting, insides clenching and pulsing in incomprehension, trying to come back from near insanity, you take your fingers out of your thighs. A wet sound rings through the quiet room. You grimace. 

Not knowing what to do with your sticky hands, you wipe the juices on your white sheets. The sight is offensive. You put a pillow over it just to hide it, like the feathered cotton could make it suddenly unreal. 

You can’t believe what almost happened. You’ve never done anything like it. 

It’s that damn boy. Dark and tempting, drawing you into sin with a serpent smile. 

Solemnly, you draw the sweaty sheets off your flushed skin. You kneel at the end of the bed — ignoring the get on your knees resonating inside your skull — clutching your hands together, you rest your elbows on the mattress. 

Lord, I plead for the blood of Christ to cover my sins. Purge me with hyssop so that I will smell sweet in Your presence. I am condemned in light of Your holy law. Lord, forgive me. Forgive me. 

—

At breakfast, your mother hands you a banana. You stare at it, almost blushing, like God was making it so very clear he had seen you through the ceiling. You cough, peeling it, taking a demure bite out of it. 

“Sweet dreams?” Your father asks, hidden behind his newspaper. 

You flush harder, shifting in your seat. “I guess.” 

—

The Church is empty. It feels quieter than usual, grander when it’s devoid of the light of life. Solemn. The sacredness sticks against your skin. You feel the sins in the pit of your stomach rioting in the holy. 

Your Mary Janes tap against the wood. With shaky steps, you walk to the confessional. 

Opening the door of the confessional booth, you sit on its stool, staring at the grain of the wood. You pick at your cuticles, ripping the skin off until it’s red and raw. At least it stops you from trembling. 

The priest isn’t there. He might never come; you were too scared to make an appointment. It would make it too real, make your sin too vivid. I’ll just take a peek, you told yourself. If it happens, it was meant to be. The will of God is good. The confessional is silent. 

You rack your throat, shaking your shoulders. Maybe this is better. Maybe— You can be truthful when there’s no one but the Lord to hear you. You close your eyes. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” 

You hear a door opening and closing. You scrunch your face, refusing to take a look through the latticed partition and lose your will. You hear quiet steps on the other side. Someone settles down. You exhale slowly.  

“It’s been two weeks since my last confession. I have—” You shake your head. You don’t know the right words; you’ve never done this before, never had to sit in a dark box and confess some unspeakable lust. “I have been impure with myself.” The words choke out of you. You must push them out. Spiking pain from your thumb. You tear and tear; it makes the inside bloodless. “Once,” you add finally, though it’s strangled. 

A voice, low and husky, entirely known, “Do you know why there’s a partition between us?” You open your eyes, staring straight ahead. 

You would recognize that gravelly tone anywhere. Matty Healy, sin dripping down his mouth, wetting his chin. You can imagine him, some dirty shirt from an unlistenable band, ripped jeans, ringed fingers — your thighs clench — a dark halo sprouting from his scalp. Still, you refuse to look. 

You bite your lip, breathing out, considering him. You twist the ring around your thumb. Scratch and scratch at the skin until it bleeds, some muted pain spreading. You place it between your lips, sucking it clean. Metallic on your tongue. The gesture is familiar; you start blushing before you can brush it away. You take the finger out, wiping at the red. There’s no harm in knowing. 

Softly, you whisper, “Why?”

One indulgent moment. The only noises are your breaths falling in the wooden box. “Priests would take advantage of the confessionals before. Penitents kneeling in front of them, confessing their uncontrollable lust, that guilty hand between their thighs.” You shiver, some shameful pool of need gathering in your belly just from the simple words. Lust, hand, thighs spin around your head in that same tantalizing cadence of his. “By 1576, the sexual solicitations were so great, they had to create the confessional booth.” 

Sexual, you grip the muscle of your thighs, biting your lip. “What does this mean?” 

“It means, love, that there’s nothing to confess. This entire box was created solely because priests couldn’t control themselves when penitents confessed your very sin. Masturbate all you want.” You blush, pinching your thumb in punishment. “Because that is the word you were looking for, wasn’t it?” The smirk is undeniable in his voice. He’s far too pleased. 

“Yes,” you say petulantly, just to rock him a little. You know you’ve succeeded when his breath hitches. You smile, victorious, pride climbing up your spine. 

He exhales heavily. Slowly, almost tentatively, Matty says, “How did you do it?” 

You need to leave this room. This— This has been enough. You’ve humored him. You’ve abated your curiosity. 

But— But isn’t this part of God’s will? He brought you here in the deadest time, brought him to church through some nearly magical feat. A small miracle, just for you. He put him in the priest seat. Shouldn’t that mean something? You can—

You can pretend. You can see, just a little. Take a peek. “Must I say, Father?” 

Rougher out of his throat, “I need to know how much you need to be forgiven.” 

“I—“ You bite your lip raw. Halos and blood and hips, fingers knuckles deep into you, sore hand between your thighs, come back to you in filthy blur. You avert your eyes down. “I had a dream.”

“Oh?” It’s more a breath than a sound. A ghost of a word. 

You nod, though you do not know if he looks at you through the partition, if he sees you. What must you look like, bloody and flushed and tense? Depraved just from the thoughts. “It was dirty. And it left me—”

“How dirty?” He cuts you quickly. “Describe it to me.” 

“I don’t remember much of it.” The dream is more a feeling than a truth. Still, you want to please him. You continue, frowning as you recall, “It was sort of blurring all together. Shoulders and hips and lips. He was— fingering me.” The words are dirty out of your mouth. You wish you could swallow them back. 

“Did you like it?”

You must tend an ear, but you hear him panting quietly on the other side. A smirk can’t hide itself from your lips. You should feel terribly ashamed, but you’ve got him. See how he likes being tempted. 

“Oh yes. It made me feel alive, electric. I kept sensing this scorching heat under my skin. He’d— He’d do this trick, with his fingers, where he’d curl them, and hit something just so. Long fingers. Rough fingers, and I was so soft inside.”

He groans. You feel euphoric, some grander power rushing through your veins. Your heart beats faster. Unnamed thrill plays on your ribs. 

“Did you finish?” 

This time, you do not wait, eager as you answer, “No. No, see, I woke up before I got to.” 

“Hence the masturbation.” 

You smirk. “Yes, Father.” The resounding grunt pleases you. You scratch it in a corner of your skull to replay for eternity. 

“What did you do?” 

“I— I touched my clit.” 

Suddenly, your button of nerves feels tight, ignored. You remember the spike of pleasure when you first touched it. Thoughtlessly, you grind your lips slowly, faintly, against nothing. Just something to relieve. Just to think a little clearer. 

“How did that feel?” 

“Just— these spouts of pleasures, so intense and vivid. My legs kept shaking and I was throbbing, so empty.” 

“Did you finger yourself?” 

How deeply you wanted to. How much you remembered the feeling of the dream, to be so thoroughly filled. How the cross watched you, solemn and disapproving. 

“No. I tried, but— He was watching me, Father. The Lord.” 

“I’m sure he’s seen things before.” 

You shift your hips, trying to find a better angle. “Not from me.” 

“What did you think about? When you were touching yourself?” 

“I thought of the man of my dreams.” You stare at the door. “He had dark hair, and dark eyes, and these red lips. And long fingers. Long, spindly fingers, dipping inside of me, bringing me close.” With a teasing smile, you whisper conspiratorially, “He’s a profane man, Father.” 

“Well, he has to be to make you come.” 

“He hasn’t made me come.” 

“He hasn’t had the chance.” 

Hips hopelessly rocking against nothing. You practically pout at the pressure building inside your stomach with nowhere to go. You’ll have to explode. There’s nowhere else but total destruction. Out of breath, you ask, “What do you do when you feel this way?” 

“Horny?” You hear the smirk. Oh, how you want to wipe it off, make him eat it. 

You manage a little flush of shame. “Yes.” 

“Easy,” Matty says. “I am impure with myself.” 

You gasp. “Don’t make fun of me.” 

A resonating laugh, easy and freely given. “I’m serious,” he says, and it’s light. “It gets really profane.” 

You roll your eyes. Pointedly, you ask again, “What do you do?” 

Matty gets serious, perhaps for the first time in his life. “I start by touching myself, just over the pants.” Sounds of jeans ruffling. A muted moan. He— He must be doing it. Touching himself. The idea is tempting. It knocks at your temple, begging you to look. Just a peek. Just a glance. You breathe harshly, digging your hands into your thighs. 

“It’s better to tease, to get yourself worked up enough,” Matty continues. “An orgasm won’t splint you apart if you’re not begging for it. But I imagine you had to have been very close already, with that dream and all.” 

You whimper, “Really close.” 

“How wet were you?”

“Dripping. I didn’t know what to do. I had to change my pajamas.” 

A grunt. Something moving quicker, scratching the jeans. “For what?” 

“I stayed naked for a little while. Feeling my hot skin against the sheets, the scratchy material on me. I like when things are rough.” You practically moan, “Do you?” 

“Fuck. Yeah.” You like when he sounds like this. Utterly ruined. Like when it’s him, for a change. “When I’m— When I’m there, when I’m so alert I could come just from the friction, I take my cock out.” 

On the other side, something unzips. You’ve never seen it, other than clinical drawings in the health book. You bite your lip. “Is it big?” 

He laughs. “Shit, darling.” Low, husky, meant to draw in before the kill, “How about you take a look?” 

You cannot will yourself not to look any longer. Throwing senses to the heavens, you practically flip around in eagerness. You bend to the opening, trying to see through the lattice. It’s sort of blurry, scattered, but you manage to see Matty.

His hair is even messier than usual, like he has racked a shaking hand through it multiple times. His jaw is clenched. His lips parted in memory of some filthy words or some melodious moans. He wears a ruffled T-shirt, just like you guessed. It’s tight around his arms, limb flexed and tense as he holds— 

You open your mouth. He holds his cock, hard and standing, red and weeping at the tip. It’s— It’s sinful. You lick your lips, feeling your whole body getting hot. Snapping your eyes back to him, you find him watching you, smirking. 

“I don’t have anything to compare it to.” 

Matty gives himself one slow stroke. You clench your thigh, trying to silence the throbbing need. “Do you think it would fit easily?” 

You shake your head. “No. No, I’d— I’d have to work for it.” 

“There is your answer.” 

You feel hypnotized by him. He’s splintered, scattered. You don’t know where to look. To his face, falling back against the wooden wall, euphoria blooming it open and vulnerable. To his arm, flexed and hard at work. To his hands, veiny and long-fingered, wrapping around— To his cock, big and beautiful and— wouldn’t it just fit so perfectly inside of you? 

“What do you do next?” You demand more than ask. 

“I stroke myself. Like this.” Again, he passes a toughened hand over his length, swiping his thumb over the tip. His hips jump. “Gently, at first. Slowly. Still just to tease.” 

“And then?” 

He smirks, tutting. “Patience.” 

“What do you think of?” You ask instead. 

“Of a girl. With pouty lips, bitten raw. And this look in her eyes like she could burn down this whole place. Like she chooses not to.” 

Your heart beats faster, something calling to him, to being seen. “And what does she do?” 

“Man, what doesn’t she do?” 

You don’t know. You don’t know what she could do. “But— But what?” You want to. You want him.

Matty gives you a onceover. “Well, she’s touching herself. Just a graze, just a ghost, to tease herself.” 

You sigh, frustrated. You understand the command. Shamelessly, quickly, you stick your hand under your skirt, between your thighs. You don’t break eye contact with him, too focused on his face, on his mouth soon gracing the words you wanna hear, wanna know. Three fingers find your clit and suddenly you remember why you are here in the first place. 

Jolts of pure ecstasy, spasming up your stomach and down your legs. Your face scrunches, mouth opening in worship. You start rubbing faster, chasing that edge you nearly fell from, until you remember his demand. Groaning, you touch yourself slowly, curling your toes every time a tender swipe of your finger finds your clit. 

You open your eyes again. His are dark. They’re devouring you, taking in every inch of you like he could possess you, swallow you whole. “Now what?” You ask between two moans. 

“She’s laying under me, legs spread apart, moaning as I thrust into her. She has these tiny spasms when I bottom out, and she’s just purring. Moans and pants and screams. She bites her lip, but I tuck it out. I want to hear her.” 

His cock inside of you. Making space through your pit of sins. Destroying you from the inside, unmaking you. You whine. “Yeah?” 

“Yes. I go faster now.” 

His hands rub quicker. Eyes drawn to the act, you make your fingers follow the same rhythm. Building bliss. You stifle a scream, head falling on the partition. Your hair sticks to your forehead, coiling around your temple.

“There you go,” he sighs. Pride blooms in your chest. It mixes with the need, with the pleasure, until every emotion comes together in wiping waves. Your head feels entirely detached from your body. Matty groans, furiously working himself. “She’s sitting on my face too. I’m licking her — obsessed, single-minded, starved — and she’s just grinding herself on my nose. Her juices are rolling off my cheeks, but I don’t relent.” 

You nod. Yes yes yes. “She’s riding you next.” You dip one finger to your entrance, gathering the mentioned juices, going back to your bundle sticky and wet. 

“Yes.” He’s near insanity, too. You hear it in his voice. “Pinch your clit.” Obediently, you pinch yourself meanly. You cry at the resonating feeling, scrunching your eyes from intensity. “Put one finger in.” You don’t even think. One finger enters you up to your last knuckle. “Good girl.” A lazy smile on your face. I’m good. I’m good. Your finger curls into you, shoulders shivering at the feel. 

“She’s holding onto your bare chest.” You continue. The sight is so vivid. “Her nails claw into your skin, but you just scream. Her thighs are sore, but she goes faster, harder.” You’d be unstoppable. You’d ruin him. You pump yourself quicker.

“I fuck her from behind. Every time, I slap her ass, and she just whines. She fucking loves it.” You whimper at the image. Your cheeks grow sore and raw just from imagination. “Two fingers now. Go harder.” Two fingers feel like an intrusion. You wince a little in pain, but you still want to please. The more you thrust, the more you grow used to it, grow to love it. You march to the edge of a cliff, single minded, embracing the possible wrecking landing. “Yes, yes.” Finally, he screams. 

You peek an eye open to see him. His hips are rising with each stroke, as if to find his hand quicker. He spreads his precum over himself. “She’s on her knees,” you say. His stare burns you. He moves quicker, slipping screams from his lips shamelessly. “She’s taking you in her mouth. She’s—fuck—she’s swallowing you whole. You keep bucking.”

His hips convulse. “She’s coming.”

“Yeah?” Your pussy throbs. You curl your hands, harder, faster, grinding yourself on your own wrist. There’s something right there. You feel it on the tip of your tongue. 

“She’s coming. She’s— Shit, she’s right there.” 

Matty explodes, white ropes of cum spilling. It falls on his jeans and his hands, but mostly on the floor of the confessional. 

On the floor of the confessional. Your eyes widen. You gasp, taking your hand out of your skirt like you’ve been burned. 

Matty came on the floor of the confessional. His cum is there, offensive, blasphemous. You’ve— You might have done the same. You were going to. 

You came here to confess your sins and—shit—you desecrated a fucking church instead. What is wrong with you? Something deep, something from the root, something unremovable. You’re damned. You’re doomed. 

He is your ruination. 

“Oh, Gosh.” You run out of the box, blinded by the sudden light. You blink, eyes watering by the undeniable presence of God. Oh, Gosh. 

“Darling,” Matty calls after you, buckling his pants as he catches up to you.

“The Lord will never forgive me now.” You stare at the stained glass of your savior. You’re bathed in colors, but you’re all shadows. 

Matty grazes a hand on your cheek. “Love, it’s okay. Let me take care of you.” His other one finds your waist, leaning into your ear, whispering in that low voice of his, “I could get you there. In ten minutes—not even. I would only need my thigh.” You shiver at the words, at the tone, at the idea of—

You shake your head. You turn to him, practically begging for him to hear you. “I’m forsaken, Matty. I’m— I’m disgusting. This is real fucking serious.”

Matty frowns. “You’re not. You’re not—” He grows restless, bends down to kiss you. His lips don’t even brush yours; you push him away before he can wreck you—although the damage is already done, isn’t it? 

You’re dirty, now. You’ll never be clean. You’ll never be forgiven. “Don’t bring me with you.” 

A flash of hurt spreads through his face, then is wiped blank. He lets go of you. “Lie to yourself. See if I care.” 

He tramples out of the church. Perhaps he’ll never come back again. Something in you twists at the thought, but you ignore it. This is good. It hurts because it’s divine. Martyrs become saints after all.

#i think we all need holy water after this #sorry for abusing em dashes lmao #matty healy smut #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #smut #writing #imagine #pray for my soul