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toomuchracket · 1 month

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it's only been a year (birthday party matty x reader fluff)

surprise! happy 1st anniversary of the blog, and therefore to these fuckers. love you all. enjoy <3

matty’s so glad you're here.

not that he doesn't love his job, because he really, really does - and, to be honest, playing music for lovely people with his best friends has never felt like a proper shift to him - but the touring sparkle is starting to fade a bit now. it's been nonstop for almost two years, the end of this album cycle is in sight, and, as much as he hates to admit it, he's not as young as he once was. the tiredness catches up to him faster, because the adrenaline doesn't last as long, and all the dancing around is taking a bit more of a toll on his body than it used to (which reminds him: put the knee support on before travelling tomorrow). what used to be hours-long hedonistic afterparties have turned into staying backstage for a couple of drinks at most, before hurrying to the hotel for a hot shower to soothe the muscles in the voice and the rest of the body, and then getting as much sleep as possible. arguably, not particularly rock'n’roll, nor very exciting.

but you're here. at the shows, on the planes and trains and buses, and, currently, cueing up an episode of derry girls from the bed in matty's (well, both of your) hotel room. and because you are, the sparkle is still there, still glimmering away like glitter under strobe lights. he's not in the habit of quoting or relating to abba songs (although it's been happening more often recently, probably because of your love for mamma mia), but matty thinks they hit the nail on the head in super trouper - he truly cannot be sad knowing you're in the crowd, seeing you dance along to his songs and smile at him like he hung the moon.

wrapping the towel around his waist, matty steps out of the bathroom, and immediately smiles (probably gormlessly) at the sight of you, frowning cutely as you try to get netflix to load; his heart melts when you push up your glasses, then turn to beam at him when you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. “hi, baby. how you feeling?”

“tired,” matty sighs, smiling again when you climb off the bed and peck him on the lips, before tugging him into a cuddle. he hums. “thanks, sweetheart.”

“s'ok,” you press a kiss to his chest tattoo, a move so tender that it never fails to weaken his knees. “d'you want me to make you a hot chocolate while you get ready for bed?”

matty pulls back to look at you, brow furrowed. “we have hot chocolate?”

“there's a setting for it on the coffee machine.”

“there is? i didn't notice.”

“yeah, it's in french.”

“oh,” matty laughs, kissing your head. “this is really a recurring thing for us, isn't it? you keeping me right with drinks in europe because you're the only one of us who can speak french. thank god you were a pretentious teenager, darling.”

you blink at him. “you're taking the piss out of me for being a pretentious teenager?”

“well, i’m not the one who learnt another language so i could read the original text of les mis,” matty smirks. “how's that going, by the way?”

your face takes on the adorably bashful expression matty loves so much. “haven't even finished it in english yet,” you say, before crumbling into laughter that matty can't help joining in on - fuck, he loves you so much. when he tells you as much, you kiss him again. “i love you, too. now - hot choc, or no?”

“i'll take one, please, darling.”

“okay,” you kiss his nose, beaming at the way he scrunches it when you do. “can you see if you can get netflix to work once you're dressed, please, babe?”

“course, darling.”

“thank you, lover.”

there's a final kiss, then you let go of matty and wander to the coffee machine; as silly as it sounds, because you're only about three feet away from him, he misses you as soon as you leave his arms. having you in them, being in yours… that's matty's favourite thing in the world, and he'd gladly sacrifice most other things in life to have it for five minutes longer every morning and night, ten more minutes per day of him just being yours and you just being his.

although, looking at you now, it's so clear that those things are true even without him holding you - the hoodie you're wearing is an old one of his (that honestly looks better on you), the boxers you're wearing as pyjama shorts are his, and he's preeeeetty sure the overly-long nike sports socks you're wandering around in are also his. he gives parts of himself to you, and you accept them gladly, proudly displaying that you're completely his; in heart and mind and soul, too, not just in wardrobe.

he still can't get over that. he doesn't think he ever will.

once he's dressed (clothes warm, because you were sweet enough to put them on the radiator for him) and the tv has loaded properly, matty settles into bed, beaming at you as you wander over with his drink and giggling when you place it on the bedside table and just crawl over him to get to your side of the bed. he kisses the side of your head as you snuggle into him. “you're not having one, darling?”

“nah,” you let out a world-weary sigh. “i've had far too much chocolate today as is. remind me never to agree to going to a gig in switzerland ever again. s'awful for my digestion.”

matty laughs. “or you could just, you know, not eat chocolate.”

you frown adorably at him. he laughs again. “or not.”

“thank you,” your face softens. “s'good, though. try the hot chocolate, see for yourself.”

“right,” matty takes a sip, humming happily at the rich sweetness. “mhmm. yeah.”

“amazing, isn't it?”

he nods, swallowing, then grins. “nowhere near as sweet as you, though.”

“oh, you sap!” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into matty’s chest in mild embarrassment while he giggles; he can feel you smiling through his t-shirt, though. “put the telly on, i can't cope.”

he obliges, free hand coming up to stroke your hair as you watch the episode in relative calm - that is, aside from the two of you constantly laughing at the onscreen antics, and from you covering matty's mouth in an attempt to stop him doing his god-awful impression of a northern irish accent. the whole experience is really domestic, as sweet as the hot chocolate matty finished ten minutes into the episode, the perfect end to a busy work day.

matty stretches when the episode ends, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your chest. “time is it, sweetheart?”

“ten past midnight,” you yawn; suddenly, though, you perk up. “oh! happy anniversary, baby!”

he smiles into your chest, dragging himself up to hover over you. “happy anniversary, my girl,” he coos, thumbs stroking your pretty face. “i love you.”

“i love you,” you smile. “kiss, please?”

matty nods, leaning down to press his lips to yours; on instinct, you open your mouth as soon as he does, soundtracked by a sigh that makes his head spin. even now, a year on from it, every kiss you share feels like the very first one up against the wall in the smoking area, full of passion and adrenaline and just total love and devotion that you'd both kept buried for each other for years. the only difference is that now, 365 days on, you know exactly how to kiss matty to make him melt - a moan slips from his throat as you softly swipe your tongue around the perimeter of his lips, which in turn makes you smile, and another follows when you gently bite his lower lip and drag it to release. but it's the way you beam at him afterwards, breathing just as heavily as he is, that gets matty most, makes him hug you as tightly as he can and press little kisses all over your face and hair and get you giggling (his favourite sound in the world).

once you've both caught your breath, kissed some more, and caught your breath again, you speak. “d'you want your anniversary present now, baby?”

matty grins. “yeah. you want yours?”

“yeah,” you beam. reaching across to your bedside table, you take out a little wrapped gift and hand it to him. “for you.”

“thank you, sweet girl,” matty kisses your forehead, rolling off you to pull a thin box from his bag at the side of the bed. “for you.”

“thanks, darling,” you kiss him softly. “go on, you open yours first.”

“alright,” matty carefully rips the brown paper - after smiling, lovesick, at for the love of my life written on it in your unmistakable handwriting - to find what looks like a zine, small enough to fit in his back pocket. he laughs in slight shock at the cover, displaying both of your first initials in a heart and subtitled year one, and this continues when he flicks through the pages. the very first has a picture of the two of you at that fateful birthday party, taken by a friend across the table, as well as one of the receipt for dinner, with little hearts drawn on either side of the listing for your favourite wine; the next, a short typed-out musing ‘written on matty's couch. he's in love with me. he knows i'm in love with him. i've never been so happy in my life. i fell asleep thinking my heart might burst, and that feeling hasn't left me at all. this is true love. i know it now’.

flicking through the pages - he so badly wants to spend time poring over every single one, but he knows now isn't the time - matty feels the exact same way. you've always been shockingly good at gift-giving when it comes to him, but this… this is the best thing anyone's ever done for him.

he doesn't even think love is a strong enough word to describe how he feels about you, to be honest.

you smile when he tells you as much, lifting his hand to kiss it. “i'm glad you like it, baby. i had a lot of fun compiling everything. it was just constant reminders of how much i love you - although, i agree, it's not a strong enough word. maybe i should come up with an alternative. like how coleridge did with soulmate.”

“thank fuck he did, by the way,” matty sighs, leaning in to kiss you. “what would i call you otherwise?”

“i'm sure you'd figure it out. you're very good with words.”

“not when it comes to you, darling,” he smiles. “and that's actually relevant to your gift, so…”

“point taken,” you wink, lifting the lid. your beautiful face takes on a confused expression as you lift out a thin, a3-sized hardback book. “this looks like one of your lyric books from stage…”

“it does, a bit, yeah.”

“...and it has my name on the front,” your jaw drops, and you open the book so frantically that matty can't help but giggle; he laughs even harder when you look up at him, aghast. “this is a score. you wrote me a song?”

“kind of, sweetheart. i mean, i've written you lots of songs already-”

“but none explicitly with my name!”

“no, that's true,” matty moves to sit behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. he feels you relax immediately, which is good, because for a second he thought you were about to go into genuine shock. “and this one is slightly different in another way, too.”

“it is?”

“yeah. look - there aren't any lyrics,” he takes your hand in his own, dragging your finger over the score to show blankness where the words would appear over the stave. “when i said a minute ago that i wasn't good with words when it comes to you, i mean it. you're literally the only person in the world that can render me speechless; trying to concisely convey everything i love about you in words that 1) made sense and 2) worked in a song was impossible. so i figured i would just let the music do the talking,” matty kisses your head. “no lyrics, parts for almost a full orchestra plus the instruments i'm used to writing for… this isn't a song, darling, it's a symphony, the one that plays in my head whenever i think about you.”

“matthew,” your voice is shaky when you say his name; when you turn to look at him, he notices your jaw is too, the telltale sign that you're about to burst into tears. “i think you're absolutely fucking mental. and i love you, i love you, i love you,” your voice cracks into a sob on the last you, and you bury your face in your boyfriend's neck while you cry. “that's the most romantic thing anyone could do, i think, and you did it for me. what the fuck!”

matty giggles, caressing your back and kissing your head soothingly. “s'the least i could do, really.”

“oh, shut up.”

“alright,” he coaxes you out of hiding, wiping your tears away and kissing your nose. “i'll play it for you when we get to a piano tomorrow, yeah?”

“i'd like that,” you peck his lips. “thank you, my love.”

“you're welcome, darling. and thank you for the little zine about us - can't wait to read that tomorrow, too.”

you nod happily - suddenly, your eyes widen. “wait! that reminds me: i got you something else too. and i want us to use them tomorrow.”

“let's see, then,” matty sits up in anticipation, but almost immediately slumps back down exasperatedly when he sees the rolling papers in your hand. “baby…”

“what? it's on-theme!” you grin. “it’s paper! the thing you're meant to give and get to celebrate a first anniversary. and, let's be serious, it was me wanting to smoke that got us here, wasn't it?”

“you’re incorrigible, sweetheart,” matty shakes his head, hand tracing patterns into your thigh; he can't help but smile, though. “but alright - tomorrow, at some point, we'll smoke.”

“promise?”

“for fuck's sake,” he sighs. “i promise, even though i think you're demented.”

you beam. “thanks. i love you!”

“i love you, too, darling.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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toomuchracket · 2 months

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queen of hearts (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

penultimate day of valentine's week. this is a short and sweet one about you appearing at a signing with matty for the first time, a couple of months into dating. enjoy <3

“i really don't know what to wear today.”

matty leans round the doorframe, toothbrush hanging from his mouth exactly the same way a cigarette usually does. “just wear whatever,” he shrugs, voice muffled by toothpaste; he disappears to spit, and smirks at you when he returns. “go like that, even.”

“in my underwear?” you scoff. “who are we? kimye?”

your boyfriend laughs. “i love you.”

you sigh. “if you really did, you'd help me pick out an outfit.”

“baby, it's just an album signing, it's not fashion week. but alright,” matty stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, scrutinising the contents of the two weekend bags you've emptied onto his bed. “i like that skirt there,” he points at a long satin black and white swirly thing. “you could wear it with one of my t-shirts, if you wanted?”

his voice sounds so tender you can't help but smile, leaning round to kiss his cheek. “would you want me to wear one of your t-shirts with it, darling?”

“yeah,” matty nuzzles his face into your neck. “maybe that my bloody valentine top you've secretly had your eye on for years.”

“i have not!”

“liar,” he pinches your bare hip, kissing your neck when you yelp before letting go of you to rifle through his wardrobe. “here,” he returns with the t-shirt. “arms up, sweetheart.”

“m’not a baby, you know,” you grumble, as matty puts the top on for you.

“yeah, you are,” he beams when your face reappears from the fabric, taking it in his hands and kissing all over it. “my baby, my baby.”

“betting on losing dogs, are we?”

“hmm? wait, don’t tell me, i know this one, i do,” your boyfriend closes his eyes, reopening them and squinting in anticipation. “... mitski?”

you cheer, kissing him. “yes!”

he grins. “i listened to that album. liked it.”

“it's a good one,” you pull your skirt on and slip into your shoes; matty automatically kneels to help you lace them. “i think - oh, thanks, babe - yeah, i think i might see if i can buy it on vinyl today, actually.”

“dunno if you'll be able to, darling,” matty kisses your thigh through your skirt. “the amount of fans who've asked me if you're coming today? i reckon you'll be bombarded the whole time.”

“really?”

“yeah. people love you!” your boyfriend stands, kissing you deeply. “but not as much as i do. obv.”

“love you,” you kiss him again. “even when you're being delusional about how popular i am amongst your fanbase.”

“i'm right.”

“whatever you say, baby.”

as much as it pains you to admit it, when you begin to near the record shop in the car, it's clear that he really is. while you're in the middle of a conversation (interrogation, really) with ross about the mutual acquaintance of yours he’s started seeing - a travel photographer you know from condé nast meetings - matty elbows you in the ribs. “sorry, darling, i didn't mean to do that so hard. just got excited,” he grins, gesturing with his head to something on the street outside the window. “look at that girl's tote bag.”

grumbling, rubbing your sore chest, you squint to see what he means; when you do, your jaw drops. “fuck off. is that me?”

“yeah! as one of those saint candles!” matty laughs. “wonder where she got it. i want one. i'm gonna ask,” when the car stops, traffic gridlocked, he opens the window and leans out, while you facepalm and ross winces. “yo! love the tote bag! where'd you get it?”

“i made it!” a voice calls back, barely audible amidst the shrieks of the people around it. “i can make you one, too, matty!”

“would you? oh, thank you, darling. you're coming to the signing, yeah?”

“yeah!”

“alright. we'll talk then. see you!”

“tell your girlfriend i love her!”

matty laughs. “she's right here, she heard!”

the shrieks get even louder. your jaw drops, and ross laughs. “maybe you should wave to them, mate.”

“this is fucking insane,” you mutter in disbelief, undoing your seatbelt and shuffling to sit on matty's lap; his hands make their way around your waist on instinct, and you lean out the window somewhat nervously. “um. hi, guys?”

the scream you get in response is almost deafening - the six girls, none of whom look older than nineteen, look totally ecstatic to see you, squealing your name and waving so excitedly you can't quite comprehend it. you grin, and laugh when the one with the tote bag brandishes it towards you with a cry. “my patron saint!”

“oh, bless you,” you wink, and matty kisses your shoulder (out of sight of the audience) as they all laugh. “how are you guys, anyway? excited?”

the chatter restarts, but the smallest girl piques your attention first. “yeah! this is my first 75 album signing. i'm hyped!”

“is it?” matty pokes his head out, at the exact same time you say “mine too”. he kisses your cheek. “aww, that's cute. i mean, i've been going to your book signings for years, but,” he exaggeratedly rolls his eyes, and ross laughs from the other side of the car. “whatever.”

you sigh, turning to the girls. “what my darling boyfriend failed to mention is that i'd send him a signed copy - with a personal message, mind you - of everything i published, as pr, and he'd still show up and buy another one and make me sign it,” you ruffle his hair. “matty healy tree murderer confirmed.”

“but that's so sweet,” one of the girls sighs.

matty points at her. “exactly! and,” he looks at you adoringly. “i just like hearing you talk. that's why i came to all the events.”

this isn't news to you, but it melts your heart nonetheless. still, you can't resist - “simp”.

“says the woman who spent three hours watching tiktok edits of me yesterday.”

the girls cackle, collapsing into each other giggling in the unique way only young women do. “real,” one of them shouts, laughing even harder when you salute to her. “oh my god, i love you!”

matty turns to you, smug. “see?” he turns back to the window. “she didn't believe me earlier, when i told her you guys were hoping she'd come with me today. underestimated how much you love her.”

“yeah, yeah,” you rest your head against his. “he’s right, though - this is surprising to me. but very lovely, you guys are sweet.”

“and you guys are perfect,” tote bag girl grins. “seriously. it's so good to see you both so happy. please don't break up, ever, it would be worse for me than my actual parents’ divorce.”

you gasp out an “oh my god”, while matty giggles. “nah, no need to worry,” he looks at you with such tenderness you could cry. “she's it for me, the love of my life; if she leaves me, i'm going with her.”

“as if i'd ever leave you. love you too much to do that,” you scoff, tugging him into you for a hug. a retching noise from the other side of the car breaks your little reverie, and you giggle. “sorry for making you sit through the sappiness, ross.”

“wait, ross is here too?!”

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #valentine75 #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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toomuchracket · 6 months

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costumes (birthday party!matty x reader smut)

day 30 of promptober, and we're coming full circle on toomuchracket with some smut for these two! this is actually incredibly smutty, but kinda cute too - basically, matty's scientist halloween costume is really bloody doing it for you. enjoy! <3

"text me so i know you're home safe, yeah?"

"of course, babe. thanks for having us," your friend kisses your cheek, before being pulled away by her fiancé towards the waiting taxi. "and don't forget - bridesmaid dress shopping next week!"

"like you'd let me forget!" you shout after her. "bye, darlings!"

you wave until the gate closes behind them, and you're about to shut the front door when you hear matty call from the bottom of the steps down to the living room. "ah! wait a second before you close that door, please, sweetheart."

"why, baby?" your brow furrows, as your boyfriend walks slowly up towards you, the lab coat he's wearing as part of his scientist costume blowing slightly in the breeze from the open door. "d'you need fresh air, or something?"

matty smiles softly, leaning against the concrete wall when he reaches you and the landing. "nah. just wanted to look at you in the moonlight, s'all. you're glowing, babe."

"you- stop it, you're making me blush," you huff out; not in irritation, but rather slightly self-consciously, arms wrapping around your body as if to shield it from your boyfriend's gaze. you know he means it - he's complimented you in a similarly devastating way almost daily for the past eight months, after all - but you can't help but be overwhelmed by it. and by matty in general, actually.

the boyfriend in question giggles, and the love in his eyes is unmistakable even in the dim, pale moonlight. "but it's true! you're ethereal. apt, i guess, given the angel costume. which i still think is lovely, even if it is just white lingerie and a halo. not that i'm saying you shouldn't have worn it - not at all, my god, you look perfect - but i'd have appreciated a warning, sweetheart. thought my knees were going to give way when you walked into the kitchen earlier."

the memory of matty's face when he first saw you tonight crosses your mind, pulling a satisfied hum from your throat as it does. you'd suspected the white silk babydoll dress would have an effect on him, but not to the extent it did; he's pretty good at keeping his cool whenever you rile him up around your friends (inadvertently or not), but he almost dropped his wine glass in time with his jaw when you entered the room, eyes widening under his glasses.

those fucking glasses.

"mine almost did, too, baby," you gently close the door and walk slowly towards your boyfriend, swaying your hips very deliberately so your dress swishes and exposes your bare thighs.

just as you'd intended, matty's eyes lock onto your legs, pretty lips parting in desire - annoyingly, though, he snaps out of your little trance to look up at your face and smirk. "well, those heels are really high, sweetheart."

"i mean, yeah, but that's not the reason my legs almost gave out, baby," you smile as you reach matty, moving to lean your back against the wall beside him, looping your arms around his shoulders and tugging him into you. shifting your weight onto one leg (and winking at your boyfriend when he holds your waist to steady you), you cheekily slide the side of your foot up the side of his shin. "do you like my heels, though?"

matty's breath catches in his throat, which he has to clear before he speaks. "they're… yeah, they're sexy. i like them a lot. but," he regains control of himself again, which would irk you if he wasn't so sexy when he's self-assured. "if it wasn't the shoes that affected you, darling, then what was it? or who, perhaps?"

the smirk drops from your face, while a shit-eating grin appears on matty's. you sigh, twirling his curls around your fingers. "you're really going to make me admit it?"

"you know i like it when you tell me what gets you going, darling," matty's hands slide down your hips and up under your dress, coming (home) to rest on your ass. you shiver, partially from his cool touch, partially from the way his lips ghost up your neck. "come on. open up, gorgeous."

"it - oh, i like that," you whimper as your boyfriend sucks a bruise above your clavicle. "jesus, fuck… ok, fine, it was your glasses that got me."

matty's head snaps up to look at you immediately; you pout at the loss of his lips on your skin. "my glasses?"

"yeah," you look at the ground, feeling the heat of a blush creeping up your cheeks. "i think they're really sexy."

"really? in what way?"

you nervously peek at matty, expecting to see him smirking smugly at you - you're pleasantly surprised to see he looks genuinely curious. "promise you won't laugh?"

your boyfriend nods. "cross my heart."

"alright. well," you begin, smiling shyly at him. "this is kinda porny…"

you don't think you've ever seen matty's eyes light up so quickly in your life. boys, honestly.

"...but you look like a really hot nerd tonight, and i haven't stopped thinking about, like, pretending to sneak you into my bedroom so you can help me with my biology homework. reproduction," you giggle nervously at how daft you sound. "i know it's silly. but it's all i can think about."

matty's hands pause their gentle kneading. he stays silent, looking at you with an unreadable expression in his eyes and the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

that smile should make you feel alright about your fantasy, but it's matty. he's never quiet. neither are you, in this moment, panic making you babble. "but like obviously we've never tried roleplay and actually i don't know if i'd even like it i just think in theory it's hot and of course if you're not into it we can just forget i ever said anything and never address it again and-"

"darling," matty firmly cuts off your rambling, which you're actually quite thankful for given that your body's oxygen supply is rapidly depleting with every word. "does this make it seem like i'm not into it?"

his hands slip to the backs of your thighs and lift you up, eliciting a squeak from you as you automatically wrap your legs around your boyfriend's waist. he grinds his hips into you, as slow as dripping honey, and all nerves about his response to your admittance slip out of your mind, under the front door, off into the cold night.

matty's hard. really hard.

it's your face's turn to light up. "you like my daydream, then?"

"wanna make it a reality, sweetheart," matty smiles, kissing you - long and slow, just the way you like it. he blinks quite adorably when he pulls away for air. "right now, if you'll let me."

"please," you breathe against his lips. "been waiting for everyone else to fuck off all night so you could take me to bed."

"oh, sweet girl, you needed me that much?" matty coos, grinding into you again as he does. "let's go and do something about that, then."

with that, you set off, matty carrying you through the house to the bedroom with surprising speed. you don't know why you're surprised, though - you've done this too many times to count since that first night you got together. a happy little hum leaves your lips as you remember that night - the best of your life, it has to be said - and how desperate you were for matty to fuck you. nothing's changed on that front; you don't think it ever will.

he's gotten better at laying you down on the bed, though. instead of the graceless chucking of your first time, matty sets you down gently at the end of the bed and crawls over you, caging your body to the mattress and locking his lips onto yours. it's not a sweet kiss, by any means; his teeth sink deliciously into your lip, just the perfect amount of painful, and his tongue follows, soothing the bite and adding the pleasure. matty kisses like he does everything in life, with total conviction and determination, and you can't get enough. so much so that you can't stop yourself whining when he pulls away.

"oh, you are needy today, darling," matty smirks. "i love it. and i love you."

"i love you," you sit up on your elbows to kiss him again. "make me feel good, please?"

"always," matty kisses your forehead, hands trailing up to your shoulders, dexterous fingers sliding under the straps of your dress. "may i?"

for the second, but likely not the last time tonight: "please."

he obliges, sliding the straps and cups of your lingerie down, gently lifting your hips to slide the silk off your body and throw it carelessly to the floor. half-naked, you rest back on your elbows and just drink in the way matty looks at you with a cocktail of adoration and sheer want in his eyes; an odd mix, really, but you think it's delicious.

and as content as you are to have him look at you like that, you'd be more content reminding him of how delicious you are. careful that your stilettos don't catch on the bedsheets, you pull your knees closer to you and spread your legs. "i think i'm ready to begin my lesson now."

matty smirks. it's devastatingly attractive. "will you be a good girl for me?"

you steal his line. "always."

"that's what i like to hear. gold star for you, darling," he leans forward to kiss you again, but springs back quickly to gawk at you. "wait a fucking minute."

"what?"

that bloody smirk again. "this is all to do with your academic validation thing, isn't it?"

that's the thing about matty - he knows you better than you know yourself. shit. the blush returns full force to your cheeks, burning enough to heat your whole naked body on this chilly october night. "fuck. probably. is that a turn-off?"

"is it fuck," matty scoffs. he cups one of your tits, smiling at the way you jerk when he gently squeezes it. "i fucking love praising you, baby, almost as much as i love getting you off. and i'm about to do both of those things. yeah?"

"yeah," you reply breathily, as his other hand comes up to your other tit. "fuck, that's good."

matty hums happily. "lesson number one, gorgeous," he quickly pushes his glasses back up his nose, and you clench your thighs at the sight. "breasts. a quick lesson, because they're not too involved in the stage of reproduction we're learning about today, but," he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, smiling around the bud as you moan. "they're fun to play with during it. understand?"

your head is spinning, and he hasn't even properly done anything yet; you force it to nod, pre-empting his request for verbal answers and squeaking out a "yes". jesus. telling matty about this fantasy was a great idea.

he seems to think so too, sliding his hand down your body and beaming when he makes contact with your soaked underwear. "oh, sweetheart, i think i'm going to need a closer look at this."

"wait," you sit up quickly as matty prepares to shuffle further down the bed, carefully taking his glasses off and putting them safely on the bedside table. "there we go."

matty's brow furrows. "but i need those?"

you smirk. "not if you're going get up close and personal with me, you don't. feel free to put them back on later, though!"

"fair enough, darling," matty moves to kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed, tugging you towards him by the calves. "let me just… uncover the next specimen for analysis, yeah?"

with a giggle, you lift your hips so your boyfriend can slide your panties off; with a wink, he puts them in the breast pocket of his lab coat, and spreads your legs again. there's something really fucking hot about matty being fully clothed while you're naked, save your heels, and you feel the heat shoot straight to your core; it must show visibly, too, because matty groans as he looks at your cunt from millimetres away. "a fucking perfect specimen. and," he presses a kiss to your inner thigh as he looks up at you. "already nicely aroused. very nicely, to be precise."

fuck. this is doing it for you far more than you expected, probably because matty's committing to the bit so much. not that you'd expect anything less from him, but it's good that he's having just as much fun with this as you are.

the praise makes you preen. "all for you, baby."

"good girl."

another gush. matty's face lights up. "beautiful," he smiles at you, that full-face beam you'd do absolutely anything to see, and your heart feels like it might pack in from how much you love him. "and more than ready for our next lesson. are you happy to continue, sweet girl?"

"eagerly so."

"ideal. now, this section isn't strictly intrinsic to the act of reproduction, but i maintain that if you aren't including it you don't deserve to reproduce. or do anything at all, for that matter," matty says matter-of-factly, and you have to cover your mouth to prevent bursting into laughter and killing the mood. "female pleasure. i assume you're familiar with the sensation, darling?"

"extremely."

your boyfriend can't help himself. "too fucking right you are, my girl," he clears his throat and composes himself. "anyway. clitoral stimulation - often overlooked or deeply misunderstood by the male subspecies, a truth you'll unfortunately likely also be familiar with, but extremely pleasurable to the receiver and giver if done correctly. there are multiple methods of stimulation; one of the most common is digital. that is, with the digits, like so."

as his sentence draws to a close, matty's calloused thumb quickly finds your clit and begins circling slowly. as soon as he makes contact with the bundle of nerves, a choked moan escapes your lips, the first of a series of sounds your boyfriend draws out of you as he varies tempo and pressure of his hand movements. an epicurean symphony isn't the only thing matty manages to draw out of your body as he works your clit; after a few minutes and several rough kisses to your inner thighs, you can feel an orgasm building within your body, matty seemingly pulling pure pleasure out of your very bones through your clit.

agonisingly, just as you open your mouth to warn him of your imminent climax, he slows down his circling. "of course, other methods may be preferred dependent on the individual giver. for example, in my own personal opinion, the superior form of clitoral stimulation is… oral."

jesus christ.

you're barely able to inhale a full breath before matty's mouth is on you, and you lose it all anyway by screaming as his lips and tongue suck and lick and flick at your clit. he's relentless, all composure gone, tugging you impossibly closer to his eager mouth as he all but makes out with your just-as-eager cunt. the pleasure builds again inside you, faster this time, and you can feel yourself beginning to teeter on the precipice of orgasm when…

he fucking pulls away again. the bastard.

you whine, and matty kisses your lower stomach in what appears to be apology. "i know, sweetheart, i know," he coos, thumb feather-light on your clit. "you're being such a good girl for me, learning all your lessons so well. one more lesson to go, my darling, and then i'll make you feel good without interruption, yeah?"

"promise?" you croak out.

"i promise, sweet girl," matty nods. "because this is where it starts to get a bit more like the classic act of reproduction - we're introducing penetration. now," he slides two fingers up and down your cunt, covering them in your wetness and pressing them on the sides of your clit, making you jolt. "this can be done as an independent act, but i think it's a lot more gratifying - and fun - to pair it with the oral stimulation from before. start with the penetration," matty slowly pushes his fingers inside you and thrusts them back and forth, both your jaws dropping at the feeling. "my god, that's good - and then add your mouth back into the equation, like so."

he literally announced it was coming, and still the feeling of matty's lips on your clit as he finger-fucks you has you screaming. if you could keep your eyes from rolling back into your head at the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through your body right now, you'd maybe notice the way matty's concernedly flick up to your face to make sure you're alright - when he confirms your screams are the good kind, his eyes soften, but the black lust within them doesn't disappear. if anything, it gets darker the closer your boyfriend pushes you to the edge, the inaudible analytical murmurs of "you can add another finger for extra stimulation" and "hook them inside to stimulate the g-spot" and god knows what else vibrating through your clit and into your already-fraught nervous system.

it's almost too much for you to handle. your jaw is locked in place, throat muscles tightened to the point where anything but a strangled moan is unable to escape your lips, fingers practically threaded into the sheets themselves as if it's the only thing stopping you from floating away on a cloud of complete ecstasy. ironically, since he's the one making you feel so ecstatic, it's actually matty that's keeping you tethered to this earthly plane - his muscled arms are locked around your convulsing thighs as he sucks and finger-fucks you within an inch of your life. even then, you're still almost dipping in and out of consciousness, of reality, so strong is the buildup of pleasure within you.

you're not sure exactly what it is that finally triggers it, or how long it's taken you to get to that point. but matty does something, and you actually feel something twinge in your cunt as the buildup of pleasure erupts inside you. and that's it.

for the first time in your life, you squirt. you scream matty's name so loudly you almost lose your voice, as you cum so hard that you gush all over your boyfriend's hand and face, a motion you're only vaguely aware of in between split-second long blackouts as your body tries to recover.

matty quickly pulls his fingers from you, a string of excited swear words leaving his mouth as he processes what just happened. he's hovering over you within seconds of your orgasm ending, holding your face in his hands and speaking softly as you come to. "oh, my good girl, my perfect girl, that was absolutely incredible. fuck. how did that feel, darling? how do you feel now? are you alright? talk to me, sweetheart, please."

"felt perfect," you manage to breathe out, smiling dazedly at the gorgeous man above you. "feel so good. thank you."

"i love you," matty kisses you, short and sweet. "that was just… i don't think i'll ever be able to stop thinking about it. i know i say this about something every time i see you naked, but that was the hottest thing i've ever experienced, darling. honestly. i've never been more turned on."

"mmm, love you," you bring a shaky hand up to caress matty's cheek; he turns his head slightly to kiss your palm. "and i want you to feel good now. wanna have sex with you, please."

"are you sure you feel up to it?"

"i am. i do. i want you, baby."

"jesus," matty rests his head on your chest for a second. "alright. but i don't think i have the control to do another lesson roleplay, darling - need to fuck you too much."

you shrug. "i'm a kinesthetic learner anyway. show me what's what!"

matty laughs, quickly yanking off his lab coat and tie. "you're my favourite fucking person on the planet," he kisses your nose while he unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the ground too.

stretching, you sigh happily at the sight of his tattooed torso. "you're just saying that because you made me squirt all over you."

"nah, that's just a bonus," your boyfriend grins, kicking off his trousers. "i mean it, though, you really are my favourite. gonna marry you someday."

a gentle wave of love washes over you. "really?"

"really. but first," matty teases your hole with the head of his dick. "i'm going to fuck you."

he's inside you immediately after the words leave his mouth, sinking into you with a moan you echo in your slightly-broken voice. "shit, babe," matty moans, lips tangy with the taste of your arousal. "you feel too good - there's no way i'm going to last long."

"s'ok, baby," you whimper, legs on your boyfriend's shoulders. "you've made me feel amazing, s'about time you took a turn."

despite his exertion - he really is fucking you determinedly - matty huffs out a laugh. "sweetheart, that doesn't mean we won't be able to get you off again," he smirks, not unkindly, tenderly brushing a stray hair from your face. "if it's not too sensitive, can you be my good girl and rub your clit for me, make yourself feel good?"

oh, fuck. you nod, brain and voice taking a second to catch up to your head and neck. "i can do that."

"show me."

eyes locked on matty's, you bring your hand to your clit, and rub the same slow circles your boyfriend did on you earlier. "like this?"

"yeah, just like that, shit," matty's thrusts quicken; you speed up your circling to match, whining and clenching around him as another orgasm quickly approaches. "fuck, baby, are you gonna cum again for me?"

"yeah."

"do it then, sweetheart," matty pants, bringing his head down to rest in the crook of your neck. your free hand tangles itself in his hair, and he moans into your skin as he speeds up yet again. "whenever you're ready… cum."

still sensitive from your earlier earth-shattering climax, and driven to the edge by the combination of your own hand, matty's hips driving into yours, and his fucking voice, another orgasm crashes through you. it's nowhere near as strong as the first, but it's enough to pull your boyfriend to the edge with you. "darling," he manages to croak out, thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier the better he feels inside. "where can i cum?"

"on my face, please," you pant, chest heaving with aftershocks. "s'only fair, after i came on yours."

the mere mention of your earlier orgasm is enough to tip matty off the edge. groaning the sexiest groans you've ever heard, matty pulls out of your ruined cunt as you sit up closer to him, jerking himself to a finish all over your elated face. it's a bit depraved, but you fucking love it. you fucking love him.

once he's decorated you sufficiently, matty collapses onto your chest, breathing like he's just run a marathon. he's spent, you both are, but he still finds the energy to sit straight up and look at you with a panicked expression. "baby, you had your wings on that whole time?!"

"hmm?" you lazily turn your head to look at your own shoulder. sure enough, the elastic strap of your angel wings is still there; you tentatively lift it, to find the skin underneath red and tender. but still, you giggle. "oh, shit, that's fun! wait, i must still have my halo on, too, then."

"yeah, you do," matty smiles lovingly at you. "it's quite a sight, actually, baby, your halo askew and my cum all over your face."

"well, the wonky halo is thematic, i s'pose," you laugh. "considering what we just did wasn't very angelic."

matty kisses your jaw. "nah, you were a good girl for me. still an angel in my eyes, albeit a slightly slutty angel."

"your slightly slutty angel."

another kiss. "mine, all mine."

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #promptober75 #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy smut #matty x reader

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toomuchracket · 4 months

Text

you would cook, i'd do the nappies (birthday party!matty x reader smut)

honeymoon. babymaking. need i say more? enjoy <3

“shit, shit, matty, i'm close, m'so fucking close - oh, fuck!”

your husband groans happily into your core, hands latched onto the sides of your shaking thighs, dragging you back and forth over his face to catch the last of your orgasm. you release your grip on his hair, softly carding your fingers through it as the aftershocks subside, and release your thighs’ grip around his head; matty quietly says “nooooooo” when you climb off him and lie back down, and laughs when you roll your eyes.

for a couple of minutes, the two of you do nothing but peacefully lie side by side and catch your breath, listening to the ocean and the call of seabirds outside. once he's regained his, matty rolls over and rests his head on your bare chest, kissing the soft skin between your tits before he speaks. “morning, wifey.”

“hi, my love,” you pout your lips, and matty meets them with his own immediately. the tang of your own arousal on his lips makes you beam. “thank you for the lovely start to the day.”

“i should be thanking you, darling,” matty kisses you again. “letting me pull you onto my face when you were still half-asleep and all.”

you smile bashfully. “like it when you wake me up like that, baby. you know,” you can feel your cheeks burning. “you could wake me up by, like, actually fucking me, too, if you want.”

matty tilts his head to look at you properly. “really?”

you nod. “i think starting my day full of you would be the ideal way to do so.”

“christ,” matty buries his face into your chest - when he reappears, his pretty face is stretched into a shit-eating grin. “yeah, you're just desperate to be full of me, aren't you? i remember what you said last night, sweetheart.”

“oh my god,” you cover your face in your hands.

“ah! don't you hide from me, mrs healy,” matty pulls your hands from your face and takes them in his own, smiling; his love for you is evident in those beautiful eyes of his, and his excitement to finally be married to you is even more evident in the way he says your shared name. “it was hot as fuck, you telling me you want me to get you pregnant. i want it too, darling - starting a family with you has been a dream of mine for a long time, you know.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” matty kisses your nose. “a kid that's half you and half me, the best writer and the best frontman in the world? they'd be messianic levels of cool. and good-looking.”

you cackle, stroking his cheek with the side of your finger. “you're an idiot, you know that, yeah?”

“but i'm your idiot.”

“too fucking right, baby,” you beckon matty up to you with your index finger, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and connecting your lips to his. he kisses you back eagerly, whining into your mouth when you bite his lower lip and soothe it with your tongue - his hips begin to grind down into yours as the kiss deepens, want for you clear as the september morning itself. smiling against matty's lips, you reach for his left hand and the cool metal band on his ring finger. “you're mine, and i'm yours. forever.”

“fucking love the thought of that,” matty moans into your open mouth. “fucking love you.”

“i love you,” you whisper, moving your hips up to meet his. “and i want you. please?”

“shit,” comes the gasping reply - much to your irritation, though, matty’s hips slow to a stop. “i wish we could, baby. but we've got a brunch booking to get to.”

you whine. “but you've already eaten!”

matty laughs. “but you haven't! and you need to, darling - can't have my wife not being properly nourished, can i?”

“ugh, fine,” you frown; it drops from your face, though, as you look at your husband's rock-hard dick and an idea pops into your head. “can i have a starter now, though? promise i'll be quick.”

he smirks in response, shifting to lie back against the pillows with his hands behind his head. “by all means, sweet girl.”

***

humming happily, you lean your head back to rest on matty's chest, turning it to look up at him lovingly. “god, you really do have very talented hands.”

“well, i try,” matty pecks your lips, moving said hands from between your thighs so he can wrap his arms around your waist. the warm water of the bath sloshes further over your body as he does. “can't keep them off you, to be honest, sweetheart.”

“good. i don't want you to,” you sit up slightly, moving onto your knees to face your husband, beaming when he moans softly at the sight of your bubble-covered chest. his hands find your hips and pull you close to him - you both laugh at the way your knees slide on the slippery bottom of the bathtub, laughs that fade into a contented silence as you look into each other’s eyes. you rest your arms on his shoulders. “i love you.”

“i love you, my perfect girl,” matty presses his lips to your forehead, then to your own. “shall we get ready for bed now?”

“you're tired?” you giggle, tracing little patterns into your husband's shoulders. “s'pose it has been a long day.”

“no, i just want to take you to bed.”

“then take me,” you smile. matty opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it. “yes, that was a deliberate double entendre. who do you think i am?”

matty drops his head and nuzzles it into the crook of your neck; he drags his tongue up it, kissing over your jaw and cheek so he can whisper in your ear. “you’re my wife.”

the combination of matty's words and sultry tone send shivers careening across your body. has anything ever been so erotic? you doubt it.

“fuck,” you whine, hands clutching at the nape of matty's neck and at his side. “yeah, let's go to bed, baby.”

“whatever you want, wifey,” matty kisses you sweetly a final time, releasing his hold on your hips. “stand up for me, please, darling.”

you oblige, using him as leverage to move off your knees and blushing when he looks up at you and says “yeah, i like this view” - matty only laughs and pulls himself up to stand, leaning in to kiss you quickly before stepping out of the tub. he holds his hands out, and you gratefully take them as you step out too. the next little while is spent drying off, which really equates to you and your husband pressed up against each other while wrapped in a single plush towel, tenderly rubbing the other's skin and languidly making out. you've been desperate for matty to fuck you since he woke you up this morning, and these acts of intimacy - of pure love, actually - have you aching for him.

still, though, you prolong going to bed with him; once the two of you are suitably dry, you detach yourself from matty. “you go ahead through, baby, i need a second.”

matty's eyes fill with concern. “you alright, darling?”

“yeah, i'm fine,” you nod, smiling. “can feel a spot developing on my chin - just need to look and see if i packed spot gel or not, so i can put it on before i get… preoccupied.”

he giggles. “the realism of domesticity and married life. amazing. i'll meet you out there, sweetheart.”

“see you in a second, lover.”

a final wink, and matty leaves you alone in the bathroom, closing the door behind him. as soon as it clicks, you crouch and reach to the very back of the cupboard where you've stashed your skincare and makeup bags, not stopping until your fingertips make contact with a smooth cardboard box. carefully, you lift it over the bags, catching your spot gel with your middle finger and lifting it out too - you might have fibbed to matty about the main reason you stayed back in the bathroom, but you weren't kidding about the spot on your chin - and laying everything in your hands on the countertop.

after quickly applying the spot treatment and washing your hands, you lift the lid off the box and pull back the layers of tissue paper inside, revealing the most delicate piece of lingerie you think you've ever seen. it's new and custom-made for you, ivory-coloured and beautiful; the thong and babydoll dress are mostly silk, with ribbons for shoulder straps and a soft chiffon skirt-thing that does absolutely nothing to protect your modesty. you love it dearly, and you have a sneaking suspicion that matty will too.

he's also going to some effort for tonight, it seems - while you slip into the lingerie, you hear him connect his phone to the sound system in your villa and shuffle through his intimacy playlist, and it makes you smile. when he finally settles on otis redding's these arms of mine (a favourite for slow dancing in the kitchen at home, and also for subsequently having sex on the table), you take a deep breath, pull the claw clip from your hair, and step into the bedroom.

matty doesn't look at you right away, sat at the end of the bed tapping at his phone (likely queuing more songs of this ilk to soundtrack the romantic evening you have ahead of you). but you don't mind, not in the slightest; it just means you get to look at him undisturbed, freshly-tanned skin almost glowing in the dim light of the bedroom and curls made wilder by the steam from the bath. his wedding ring catches the light as he reaches to put his phone on the bedside table, and the sight of it sends a flush of lust right through you.

he's so beautiful. and he's yours.

“hi, darling,” matty starts as he sets the phone down, still not looking at you. “d'you find the- fuck me.”

you giggle as your husband looks at you and your outfit for the first time - half because of his swift change in conversation, half because the way he's looking at you is so overwhelming.

those eyes of his are filled with nothing short of wonder. it's like you've entranced him, actually. matty makes no attempt to move, or speak, or even blink until you've wandered over to stand in front of him; only when you softly cup his jaw does he move - to smile - and speak. “i am, without a doubt, the luckiest fucker on the planet. look at you, sweetheart.”

“you like my outfit, then?”

“like?!” matty scoffs. he brings his hands to your hips, sighing happily when you card your fingers through his hair. “it's beautiful. and it's so sexy. you look like fuckin, i don't know, aphrodite or something.”

you chuckle, leaning down to kiss his head. “thanks, baby,” you straighten up, and matty's gaze doesn't leave your chest for a second as you do. “oi, healy, my eyes are up here.”

he goes bright red - god, you love that you still have the ability to fluster him - and grins. “sorry, healy - fuck, i love saying that to you - but they were right there! what else was i meant to do? you know i'm obsessed with them.”

“well, do you want to see them now?” you say, hands moving to the ribbons on your shoulders.

matty laughs. “you're eager tonight, wanting to take your pretty outfit off as soon as you put it on.”

“mmm,” you kiss him, pulling back just as his tongue starts to swipe at your lower lip. “just been thinking about having sex with you all day. m'needy.”

“believe me, i know - two orgasms already today, and you want more?” matty tuts, but he can't keep the smile from his face. “don't worry, gorgeous, you'll get them. gonna give you everything you want, my love.”

“everything?”

you don't specify exactly what you mean, but matty nods slowly in understanding anyway, a small smile on his pretty face. without breaking eye contact, he lifts the skirt of your dress up and kisses your bare stomach. “gonna put a baby in there tonight, sweetheart.”

fuck.

“promise?” you say, shakily, breathily, legs on the verge of giving way from the plentiful desire striking between them.

“promise,” matty nods, still pressing gentle kisses to your belly. his hands move to the backs of your knees, tugging you forward to straddle him. “but i think we should do it again tomorrow, just to make sure. and the day after that, and so on, etc etc. you'll be flying home pregnant, i'll make sure of that, sweetheart.”

“hope that won't be too much of an effort for you,” you tease, giggling when he blows a raspberry into your neck - it turns to a full-on cackle when matty leans back and rolls you both over, caging your body into the mattress and continuing to blow raspberries into the bits of your exposed skin that he knows are ticklish.

“nah, it's a treat when you've got a wife as beautiful as i have,” your husband pulls himself up slightly to look in your eyes. there's nothing but love in his gaze, and you know yours is the same. “can i tell you a secret?”

“ooh, yeah.”

matty kisses you deeply, a proper head-spinner of a kiss, before murmuring against your lips. “i love making you cum.”

“that has got to be the worst-kept secret of all time.”

“well, let me tell you another one, then.”

“alright.”

another kiss, less gentle than the last; matty takes your lip between his teeth, dragging it to release as slowly as honey dripping from a spoon. “i really want to make you cum now.”

“again, obvious,” you pant out, body tingling with want. “can feel how hard you are, baby.”

matty laughs breathily, rolling his hips into yours almost as slowly as he released your lip. “and i can feel how wet you are. maybe we should take that pretty underwear off before you ruin it, yeah?”

“and then you'll ruin me?”

“of course, darling,” matty giggles, kissing your nose. “will you shuffle back and get comfy on those pillows, please?”

you nod. “d'you want me to take off my dress first, or…?”

your husband thinks for a second. “may i?”

“of course,” you smile. “just pull the end of the bows on my shoulders, and…”

“obsessed with that. you're like a little gift i get to unwrap,” matty beams. “well, you're already a gift. but you know what i mean. anyway,” he giggles excitedly as he undoes the straps of your lingerie, then moans softly when it falls down enough to reveal your chest. “fuck, you're so hot.”

“back at you, gorgeous,” you wink. “now - please get me naked and get inside me, baby.”

“as you wish, my love. what is it they say, again?” matty’s brow furrows in thought as he carefully pulls your dress and thong down - tapping your hip so you can raise it and he can slide them off - and lays them at the bottom of the bed. “happy wife, happy life?”

“yeah, think so.”

“well, mrs healy,” matty grins, leaning down to make out with you again and wrap your legs around him. “i'm about to make us both really bloody happy.”

you moan when he slides the head of his dick through your folds, gathering the abundant wetness. “sounds good- oh.”

“christ,” matty hisses as he slowly pushes into you, your body rearranging to welcome him home. he smiles down at you once he's bottomed out. “feel fucking perfect, as always.”

“shhhhh,” you giggle, hiding your face in his neck. “you know i can't take compliments. but,” you smirk. “i can take you.”

matty laughs, throwing his head back before kissing yours. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

“well, in that case,” your husband pulls his hips back, almost fully leaving you, before thrusting quickly back in. you sigh happily at the feeling, and matty smiles. “feel good, my love?”

“perfect,” you breathe out, dopamine clouding your brain more and more with each precise thrust of matty's hips. a particularly pointed one has you keening. “oh, do that again, please.”

“this?” matty repeats the movement, over and over, groaning when you cry out and clench around him. “fuck, sweetheart, m'gonna cum if you keep doing that.”

“good.”

he smiles. “no, not yet, it isn't. wanna get my sweet girl off again first before i fill her up.”

there's another gush to your core. matty notices, of course, and laughs slightly deliriously. still fucking you borderline-animalistic, he leans down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, dragging his tongue up your chest and neck so he can talk directly in your ear. “you like me talking about that, darling? how i'm gonna pump you full of me, get you all sticky and dripping, with a baby in your belly? my baby? our baby?”

every muscle in your body is taut with pleasure; your throat is so constricted that you can barely speak, but you manage a whimper. “please. want…”

your brain is too cloudy to finish the rest of the sentence. somewhere in its recesses, you worry that matty will give in to his slight sadistic streak and make you finish it, but luckily, today, he understands. of course, that might be because he's just as fucked out as you are - he certainly looks it, eyes black and heavy, jaw slack, a sheen of sweat glistening on his pretty face. he's gorgeous, though, and he smiles shyly when you tell him as much. “i love you, my girl. gonna make you cum soon, yeah?”

you nod enthusiastically, softly reaching up to caress his face with your left hand. matty turns his head slightly, still fucking you, and kisses your rings, those pretty signifiers of the two of you belonging together and to each other; you smile as he does. “love you.”

“you're so fucking cute,” matty kisses you passionately. his leaning forward lets him thrust deeper inside you, and he moans into your mouth when you suddenly jolt and clench like a vice around him. “that the spot?”

“yeah.”

“in that case, then…” matty leans even further forward, quickly detaching your legs from his waist and resting his elbows beside your head. incongruous with the feral way he's driving his hips into your own and hitting that spot inside you, your husband tenderly brushes your hair from your face and smiles. “feeling good, darling?”

“so good,” you lift your head to kiss him, teeth sinking into his bottom lip in reaction to a particular thrust sending shockwaves through your nervous system. “m'getting close, baby.”

“good girl.”

shit. your eyes roll back in ecstasy at the phrase, and you cling to matty in a wordless plea for him not to stop. wordless, because your jaw is shaking too uncontrollably from the electric pleasure in every nerve ending on your body for you to talk. he knows, though.

and he knows exactly how to blow the fuse. “taking me so fucking well, sweetheart. will you cum for me?” matty coos, fucking you impossibly faster and deeper, dragging whines from your lips. “need to feel you, darling, need you to cum on my dick like a good girl and make me cum, make me fill you up with our baby. you'll do that for me, won't you? cum for me, so i can get you pregnant?”

you will. and you do, so quickly after the words leave his mouth that it would be embarrassing if you weren't so in love; your entire body tenses, so hard your muscles will surely ache tomorrow, and then releases. your limbs quiver, flailing wildly against the mattress, and your chest heaves as you cry out your husband's name. he cries out yours in reply, before crashing his lips onto yours, still erratically fucking into you even as you feel him spurt hot cum deep in your cunt.

matty all but falls on top of you once he's finished, your sweaty, satisfied bodies breathing heavily in rhythm. neither of you make any attempts to move for a while, aside from you gently stroking the back of his head and him pressing soft kisses to your collarbone - neither of you dare, lest you let any cum spill out of you instead of doing what it's designed for. you like being like this with matty, anyway, as physically and emotionally connected to him as possible, and you know he loves it too.

he's the first to move, though, lifting his head to kiss you softly before sitting back up onto his knees as best he can without slipping out of you. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you smile sleepily, stretching your arms with a yawn. “loved that. i think babymaking is my new favourite kind of sex.”

your husband laughs. “same, definitely,” he smiles, manoeuvring your legs so they're at a 90° angle to the rest of your body. “can i stretch your legs back a little bit, sweetheart? think it'll be the best way to pull out but still keep my cum in you.”

you nod, pulling your legs back enough so your backside lifts off the bed, while matty sucks air in through his teeth and pulls out. he grins. “that actually worked! god, i am so smart. right, let me just run and clean myself up

“ok, baby,” you smile as he speeds to the ensuite, sliding your hands under your backside to keep it up. giggling, you push it up and rest on your elbows in a sort-of shoulder stand. “feel like this is also quite smart, actually.”

matty peers around the doorframe and cackles. “you are literally doing gymnastics to keep my cum inside you, you weirdo.”

“your weirdo,” you tease, as matty comes over and carefully wipes the wetness from your entrance. he flops on the bed beside you, kissing your cheek. “but what can i say? i just really want to have your baby.”

matty rolls onto his side, stroking your cheek. “i want that too, darling,” he murmurs softly. “i really hope it happens soon.”

“i think it will,” you kiss him sweetly, then smirk. “if it's a boy, are we still naming him after you?”

“oh, fuck off.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfic #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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toomuchracket · 14 days

Text

a birthday partyverse insta au

this is lowk all over the place i'm so sorry. have fun tho!! <3

#this is ass i'm sorry #mads muses #mads does writing #mads gets social #into the birthday partyverse #birthday baby #amy #mayhem #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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toomuchracket · 5 months

Text

all i want for christmas (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

back from the dead (a depressive episode) with a fluffy pre-dating fic that's honestly longer than it needs to be. whatever. it's christmas. this fic is also part of christmas75/twelve days of christmas, organised and curated by my lovely friend @abiiors. hope you all enjoy <3

wednesday, 3:34am

as soon as the “email sent” pop-up appears, you feebly close your laptop and lay your head on the desk, ready to finally give in to the sleep that's been edging ever closer to your eyelids for the past hour. but before you get the chance, your phone buzzes with an incoming notification, the vibrations rattling through the wood of the desk and into your skull.

swearing, your voice scratchy with underuse, you open one eye and tilt the screen towards you - the name it bears above the unread text makes you shoot back up to a sitting position, and knocks all traces of grumpiness and tiredness from your brain and body.

matty.

pointedly ignoring the butterflies in your stomach when you see he's opened his message with hi, darling, you continue reading: hope you're alright, and that the new book isn't kicking your arse too much. saw a group of kids in barnes & noble raving about your last one earlier. would've joined them if i wasn't in a hurry, to be honest. fucking brilliant. anyway, i know it's late, but i had to text you before i forgot. can you give me a call when you get this, darling? flying home early tomorrow so i'll be up from about… 8am your time? i've got a favour to ask you. nothing crazy, though, and nothing urgent. but yeah, just phone me when you can. thanks, darling. miss you, talk to you soon. bye! X

just as you're reeling from the three darlings and the kiss and the miss you, another text from your best friend comes in, accompanied by a photo: also look at who you were next to on this display. i got so excited. my three favourites!

you laugh out loud, a combination of shock at the fact your collection is between slouching towards bethlehem and consider the lobster and adoration at matty's beaming face next to it all. fuck, he's cute.

so cute. enough for you to forget that it’s 3 o'clock in the morning, and happily pick up your phone and dial his number - you've spent so much time poring over your message threads that you know it off by heart - as if it was mid-afternoon. you kick your legs back and forth as the call connects, smiling to yourself at the thought of hearing his voice for the first time in over a month.

luckily, you don't have long to wait; your heart flutters as he picks up on the second ring, voice thick in the way it only goes when he's smoking. “you know, you didn't have to call me right away, darling. thought you'd have been asleep. but hiya!”

“hi, matty,” you smile. “and come on, it's deadline week, of course my sleep schedule is fucked. questioning why i'm not asleep, christ, thought you knew me better than that.”

he takes your teasing in good faith. “i do, darling, i do know you,” matty's voice is soft, his tone as tender as you've ever heard it. it's driving you batshit insane. “but you know me. i just want to make sure you're not stressing yourself out about your work too much. rather have my best friend's wellbeing intact than another book, even though your writing is my favourite. speaking of, that display! i'm recreating it at home. genuinely. s'amazing.”

you can feel your cheeks burning. “i can't even comprehend that display right now, m'too tired. but i’ll text you my thoughts once they make sense. and i'm alright, matty, honest. please don't worry about me, lovely.”

“that'll never happen, and you know it.”

“god, you're obstinate. but thanks. i appreciate the care.”

“even when you're insulting me, you're so eloquent. you've got a gift,” matty laughs down the phone. “how's deadline week going, anyway?”

“it's done. just sent the final draft away for edits. s'why i'm still up, actually.”

“really? congrats, darling!” the genuine happiness in his tone makes your heart hurt. “god, i wish i was home now, so we could go out and celebrate.”

“me too. but we'll see each other this weekend for early christmas dinner, yeah?”

“that's what i wanted to talk to you about, actually. you know those roast potatoes you made last year?”

“you mean the ones you and alexa fought over the last spoonful of?” you laugh, remembering the two of them racing to the tiny kitchen in your flat to try and nab them.

“m'still fucking fuming that she got them. bitch,” matty grumbles, then giggles. “nah, she's like my sister, i love her. but yeah, those potatoes. can i have the recipe for them, please?”

you suck air in through your teeth. “well… no. that’s a family secret, lovely. m'sorry.”

“oh,” matty sounds so genuinely deflated that you could cry - you seldom see him upset, but the thought of his pretty face all sad makes you feel incredibly guilty. “that's alright, darling, i understand. my nana was the same with her soup recipes. you'd have to marry me if you wanted them.”

you hum out a laugh, brain suddenly scrambled at the thought of walking down the aisle towards him. god. get a grip!

scrunching your eyes closed and blinking them open again - a tried and tested way to stop yourself going off on tangents - an idea pops into your head, so obvious that you’re not sure why you haven't suggested it already. “well, in lieu of us getting hitched within the next week,” you smile, enjoying the way matty laughs softly at the other end of the line. “i could come over early to yours and make the potatoes for you, if you'd like?”

“i quite like the sound of the first option, to be honest…”

what the fuck?! you have to clap a hand over your mouth to stop a gasp. or a scream. perhaps even a moan.

“...but i'm more than happy with the second one. thank you, darling,” matty's smile is as audible as his relief. “you're a lifesaver and a legend. come over whenever on sunday, yeah? wake me up if you have to. actually, no, i'll pick you up. s'the least i could do to thank you. and it means we get to spend even more time together.”

“that sounds nice,” you all but sigh into your phone. “i'm excited to see everyone.”

mostly you, though.

“as am i, darling,” matty yawns. it's the cutest sound you've ever heard. for fuck's sake. “m'not bored talking to you, honest, just tired. this is actually the most fun i've had in weeks, this phone call.”

you want to assume he's lying out of politeness, but something in your brain tells you he's being sincere; it's not like you can say anything to dispute him, either, given it's also the most fun you've had in weeks. “matty, you’re in new york. at christmas time.”

“yeah, alone! s'boring. macaulay culkin made it seem a lot more fun when i was a kid,” matty snorts. “plus, i saw you the last time i was here. any trip you're not on is just automatically a bad one.”

christ, what is with him today? “flatterer,” you smirk, before grimacing and continuing to talk. “but i assume you've not been… totally alone, the whole time? i don't like the thought of that being the case.”

you hope to god he's too tired to pick up on your actual meaning; the sight of him with another girl isn’t unfamiliar to you, but that isn’t to say you don't mind it. quite the opposite, in fact.

thank christ, he misses it. “no, i’ve been good. slept by myself every night,” he laughs.

you giggle, relieved. “really? wow.”

“why are you surprised at that?”

“you're you, matty.”

“yeah, well, i'm going through a metamorphosis-”

“kafkaesque of you.”

“knew that one was coming as soon as i said it,” matty sighs. “but in all seriousness, in the past couple of months, i've just… fully realised what i want in life, you know? and it's not what i used to want, or get up to.”

interesting. “well, that's good. m'happy for you, lovely.”

“yeah, thanks. and what about you, miss? you, um, bringing anyone to christmas dinner?”

you snort. “obvs not.”

matty hums. “why'd you say it like that?”

“like what?”

“like,” he pauses, trying to find the words. you can just picture the shape of his eyebrows as he does. “derisively. as if it's a silly question.”

“because it is a silly question, matty.”

“is it?”

“yeah,” you giggle. “i wouldn't even have time for a one night stand, let alone a relationship. not that there's anyone particularly interested, right now, anyway.”

“oh, there is,” comes the reply. “there really is.”

“if you say so.”

“believe me, darling, people want you. they're down bad. totally in love with you.”

“oh, you are so high right now, aren't you?”

“i mean, yeah. but i'm right!”

“uh huh,” you smirk. “i think you need your bed, matty.”

“pot, kettle.”

“alright, point taken,” you peel yourself off your chair, joints cracking slightly worryingly as you stand and pad across the flat to your room. “i'm going there now.”

matty sighs happily. “good. but send me a selfie as proof. accountability and all.”

it's an innocent enough ask, and not a totally unprecedented one - in the times where your self-neglect was at its worst, you would send matty and your other friends selfies so they could make sure you were alright - but the concept of sending matty a late-night pic from your bed does something quite odd to your brain and stomach.

still, you’ll oblige. but will he?

matty giggles when you ask him as much. “yeah, i'll send you one in return. i'm all about reciprocation, me.”

the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “good to know.”

he laughs, that stupid hyena cackle of his that might be your favourite sound in the world. “christ, i've missed you.”

“it's reciprocated,” you smile, switching your phone between hands as you get into bed and hissing quietly at how cold the sheets are. “alright, i'm in my bed. and you should be too.”

“you're right, i should be,” matty says. his voice is lower than you've ever heard it, the rasp of his cigarettes prominent; despite yourself, it goes straight between your legs. “soon, though, darling. promise.”

“good,” your voice comes out breathier than expected, a setting you haven't used in some time. “i think we both need it.”

“yeah, i think we do, too,” matty yawns again, following it up with a sigh. “right. i'm going to hang up now, darling. i really don't want to, but i feel like if i don't then one of us is gonna fall asleep before we can exchange pics. and i can't be having that, honestly. miss looking at you.”

you giggle, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs back and forth. jesus christ, what is this man doing to you? “don't get too excited, i look like shit.”

well, you've looked worse lately - you at least showered and clipped your hair up and put on a clean outfit today. but still, far less glamorous than matty's used to.

or not - “i've literally held your hair back while you yoshed in a plant pot, darling, i think you're alright.”

“and on that note, let's wrap it up,” you laugh, rolling back to lie down. “what time should i be ready for on sunday?”

“oh, um… half twelve? that should be enough time to get everything sorted.”

“half twelve it is,” you yawn. “ok. bedtime. have a safe flight, lovely. talk soon?”

“‘course. don't forget that selfie, by the way. eagerly awaiting it.”

“et toi. lots of love, see you soon.”

“back at you, darling. goodnight.”

the call ends. you close your eyes and, for the briefest of moments, let yourself dwell on the fact your best friend - who, let's be honest, you have a bit of a crush on - shamelessly flirted with you to the point of bordering on phone sex, and let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance he might feel the same way you do.

but it's matty. sweet, cheeky, affectionate matty, who'd find a way to flirt with a brick wall if he was bored enough. because that's what he is, really - bored, high, alone on a phone call with a girl late at night. it's just a natural thing for him to do in those circumstances. you're not special, you were just… there.

that notion stings more than you expected. but you persevere, opening your camera and fixing your glasses. he's your best friend, after all, and he asked you to do this to make sure you were alright. nothing more than that.

still, as you close your eyes and smile, you hold the phone with both hands so your boobs push ever so slightly more together. just in case. then you caption the pic as requested, and hit send.

matty’s reply buzzes in a few seconds later, eliciting a shocked giggle from your lips: fucking love it when you wear your glasses. a follow-up appears in another few seconds: if that's you looking like shit… you're defo the sexiest bit of shit i've ever seen.

fuck him for getting you flustered like this. honestly, fuck him.

and, oh, when he sends a selfie in return, shirtless in low light, hair in its natural state, one hand behind his head… don't you want to do just that?

you bite your lip as you compose your response: my condolences to the single girls in nyc who are missing out on you looking like that tonight.

matty: i know, poor them lol. but their loss is one specific single girl in london’s gain, though, yeah?

you: fuck yeah

matty: you crack me up

matty: miss you sm

matty: anyway, sweet dreams. see you in them, i hope

matty: but see you irl on sunday lol xx

you: miss you too, lovely. goodnight xx

***

sunday, 12:56pm

a mass of black fur rams into your legs as soon as you step through matty's front door. you laugh, dropping your bags and crouching to pet an over-excited mayhem, while matty grumbles behind you. “at least let her get in the house, mayhem, christ!”

“don't listen to him,” you coo at the dog, nuzzling into you quite adorably. “i'm just as happy to see you as you are to see me, baby. got a present for you and everything.”

“you did not buy the dog a christmas present,” matty groans, gently pulling the coat from your shoulders.

“of course i did. got you one as well.”

“thought we agreed we weren't doing presents this year?”

“well, i'm a dirty liar,” you brush down your dress and turn to face matty, smiling. “that, and i saw something when i was in glasgow that i couldn't resist getting you.”

matty's eyes widen near-imperceptibly as he takes in the dark red fabric clinging to you like a second skin, raking up and down your body almost too quickly for you to clock.

almost. you bite back a smirk. got him!

much to your chagrin, though, he recovers quickly and turns the tables. “well, it's difficult to keep control when you see something… attractive,” he murmurs, gaze lifting to meet yours. “i like that dress, darling, you look gorgeous. and,” his tone and face brighten. “i actually got you a gift, too.”

the revelation is just as shocking as the way he looked at you is. “you did?”

“we're both dirty liars, it seems,” matty grins. he nods towards the kitchen. “make yourself comfortable in there, darling, and i'll go and get it. only be two minutes, promise, and then i'll help you find whatever you need, yeah?”

“you've not done a mad rearranging of your kitchen cupboards since the last time we all came over for dinner, have you?”

“nah.”

you wave nonchalantly. “then i'm good, i know where everything i need is.”

matty smiles down at you - there's an expression in his eyes that you can't quite name - and gently nudges you down the hall. his hand is light against your back, but it sends shockwaves through your nervous system regardless. “alright. give me a shout if you need anything, though, please.”

“i will, lovely,” you smile back just as sweetly. “want me to put some christmas music on? get into the festive spirit and all?”

“anything but band aid.”

you laugh, and matty joins in. “i was thinking more sinatra, anyway.”

“perfect.”

and that's exactly how he'd describe the scene in the kitchen he walks into thirty minutes later. the room is warm, made cosy by the oven that's been slow-cooking turkey for a little while now, soundtracked by frank crooning out have yourself a merry little christmas. mayhem snoozes in his bed by the massive window, which shows snow dusting over the garden like icing sugar on a cake, and then there's you. still keeping an eye on the potatoes bubbling on the hob, you sway gently to the music as you pour dried spices and seasonings into a bowl, your face as content as matty feels.

it breaks into a big smile when you see him in the doorway, white dress shirt hugging his chest quite deliciously. “oh! you got changed. i like it.”

“had to keep up with you, didn't i?” matty smiles, wandering into the room and laying a gift bag on the counter. he peers into the pan of potatoes. “thank you for doing this, by the way, darling. means a lot.”

he opens his arms, and you slot into them before they wrap around you tightly, resting your chin on matty's shoulder and smiling. “no one else i'd do it for.”

matty hums happily. “god, i've missed you. you're always a total peach to me. makes me feel good.”

“a peach? you've spent too much time stateside, matty,” you giggle, pulling away just enough to look at him. “thank god you're home for a bit. but thank you, lovely, i'll take the compliment.”

“for once, you'll take one,” matty teases. his face turns slightly more solemn. “yeah, m'glad to be home. it's a shame you won't be at any of the UK shows, though. i always like them more when you're there.”

“well, when hollywood calls, you have to answer,” you shrug, then smirk. “you just want me at the shows so i'll praise your narrative structuring again, don't you?”

matty's eyes close in bliss. “don’t tease, you literally barrelling towards me backstage screaming about midpoints and how proud of me you were is genuinely the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

“oh, shush,” you roll your eyes, suddenly shy.

“i'm serious! it'd be like joan telling you she thought one of your sentences had perfect structure. a writing compliment from you is a gift, darling.”

“well… thank you. and speaking of gifts,” you - with great reluctance - pull away from matty, bending down to grab a wrapped box from your bag. “here. joyeux noël.”

your best friend takes the present from you, murmuring a “thank you” and smiling at the tag addressed to him. he holds it to his ear and shakes the box, eyebrows raising at the slight rattle.

sighing, you roll your eyes. “just open it, matty.”

his face lights up. “alright.”

after carefully peeling the tag from the box and placing it in his pocket, matty tears through the paper and lifts the lid off. he squints at the sides of the smaller plastic boxes inside, before realisation hits and his jaw drops. “this is…”

“cassette recordings of ten blue nile gigs throughout the eighties and nineties, in their entirety,” you finish, smiling. “thought you'd like them.”

“like them? darling, this is- i don't even know what to say, other than thank you,” matty looks at you, awed, and pulls you into another tight hug. “how the fuck did you manage to get them?”

“the guy in one of the record shops i went into in glasgow was selling them. they're his recordings,” you say, half into matty’s neck. “and he'd digitised them, so he didn't need the tapes anymore, and he wanted them to go to someone who'd genuinely use them. remembered you saying you'd bought a tape deck, and i know how much you love that band, so… i kinda had to buy them.”

matty turns his head and presses a kiss onto your temple; while you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming in delight, he speaks again. “you really are one of the best people i know. christ, i'm so overwhelmed by how perfect that present is. i need a drink,” he pulls away and heads to the fridge. “d’you fancy some champagne, darling, before i give you your gift? you might need it, actually.”

“that's not ominous at all,” you quip, then nod. “pour me a glass while i sort the potatoes and get them in the oven, please.”

matty nods, pulling out a bottle of perrier and grabbing glasses to take over to the table, while you drain and pat-dry the potatoes. he hums along to the background music while he fiddles around with the foil covering the champagne cork; you smile, eyes flicking up periodically to look at his cutely confused face, then back down to the food you're currently buttering and seasoning. it's incredibly domestic, a cosy little christmas dinner tableau, so much so that it hurts your heart to think that life isn't always like this for you and matty. and mayhem, obvs, curled up so adorably in his bed that you have to resist awwwwing every time you look at him.

still, it's hard to be melancholy when matty's irritation at the bottle foil is so amusing. you giggle at his grumbling, turning around to look at him scowl once the potatoes are safely in the oven. “need a hand?”

“no thanks, darling, i'm- ok, yeah, please,” matty sighs, leaning back in his chair and stretching. you pretend not to notice the way his shirt rides up and exposes his hip tattoo. “can't find the tab on the foil.”

“hmm, let me see,” you wander to the table and sit beside matty, moving your chair closer to him. well, to the bottle. “ah - that's because there isn't one.”

“well that's fucking stupid. how are you meant to open it?”

you smile, swiping your index nail across the foil; it slices clean through, and you're able to peel the covering off the cork. “like that. these aren't just for aesthetic purposes, you know.”

“that was actually quite hot. let me see them?” matty gently takes your hand in both of his own, admiring the abstract line pattern on your fingernails, tenderly rubbing his thumbs over the gel. “yeah, definitely hot. let me open the champagne from here though, darling, yeah? can't risk these pretty nails being damaged.”

you bite the inside of your cheek again; this time, to stop from giggling flirtily. “have at it, lovely.”

“i like it when you call me that,” matty smiles, grabbing the neck of the bottle in one hand and the cork in the other, and slowly twisting. “makes me feel good.”

“well, you are lovely,” you smile back. “and opening that champagne quite effectively, i must say.”

“learnt from the best,” matty winks. “you're right, though, it's a lot less messy. although i don't mind that, sometimes. s'fun.”

“yeah, me too,” you smirk, glad to be sitting down and not having to worry about your legs caving in at matty and his words. “kinda fun getting it all over your hand, isn't it?”

matty's eyes widen again, and the cork breaks free with a loud pop; before either of you can cringe at or make light of it, though, mayhem jolts awake with a yelp at the sound, and quickly runs over to sit at your feet.

you coo at him, reaching down to scratch his sweet head and reassure him (and berate his dad). “aww, mayhem. you scared the baby, matty! look at him, he's terrified! s'ok, sweetheart, i'll keep you safe. come on, you can have your christmas present to cheer you up.”

matty rolls his eyes, but he can't keep the smile from his face as he watches his dog eagerly follow you to your bag. “you know, mayhem, you're such a sap, honestly.”

“oi, don't talk about my friend like that,” you frown, face lighting up as you find what you're looking for in your bag. “aha! here you go, mayhem. merry christmas.”

the dog takes the guitar-shaped dog toy with relish, plodding back over to his bed and playing with it contentedly. matty leans to the side to look at mayhem's gift, bursting into laughter when he sees it. “fucking brilliant. that'll be his new favourite, by the way. but you're his favourite, so it checks out, i s'pose.”

“really?”

“oh, he loves you. he never gets so excited to see anyone else,” matty nods, pouring champagne and sliding a glass to you. “bet he'd enjoy seeing more of you. as would i, actually - i really like spending time with you, darling.”

you nod, touched. “so do i,” you raise a glass. “to seeing more of each other next year.”

matty clinks his glass off yours, repeating your words with a soft smile. you take a sip of your respective drinks, humming in satisfaction as the champagne hits your lips. you nod again as you swallow. “christ, that's good.”

“agreed. and now that we've had a drink,” matty puts his glass down, then leans back in his chair and reaches to grab your gift from the counter. he presents it to you with a grin. “merry christmas, darling. save the box til last, yeah?”

“ok. thank you,” you smile sheepishly, opening the bag and pulling out its contents: a notebook, with a pen tucked into the front cover, a book, and a thin, a4-size box. laying them on the table, you inspect each facet of the present in turn, starting with the notebook. “a parker pen? matty, this is beautiful.”

“that one's also kinda a congratulations gift for getting your manuscript in. there's a little message on the inside, too,” comes his reply.

you flick your gaze up to find him blushing, and it makes you smile even wider. carefully, you lift open the black cover, and find matty's familiar scrawl on the inside: to my favourite writer… this is for the next one. lots of love, matty ♡. a little giggle leaves your lips, and you reach for your friend's hand to squeeze it. “you really are the loveliest, you know.”

“shhh, it's nothing,” matty softly rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. “the next bits are the good ones, really. m'excited to see you react to them.”

“better not keep you waiting, then,” you smile, reaching for the book; you let out a little cry of excitement when you read the title. “on beauty! i haven't read this since i was at uni, my god. thanks, matty, i can't believe you remembered me saying that! oh, this is amazing.”

“open it.”

your head shoots up. “what? why?”

matty smiles. “just do it, please.”

“alright,” you do as requested. when you see what’s on the title page, your jaw drops. “matthew…”

“oh, shit, the full name. am i in trouble?” matty quips, smirking as he takes another sip of champagne.

“no, no, just… you got zadie fucking smith to sign a book for me? with a personal message?” you all but sob, lip quivering, completely overcome. “she's telling me she loves my work? what the fuck?”

“well, she's got good taste.”

“matty,” you wail. “this is the best gift i've ever been given.”

matty giggles. “no it isn't.”

“i'm telling you, it really is.”

“nah,” matty gently tugs the book from your hands and replaces it with the box. “this might be, though. but you need to stop crying before you open it, though, darling. can i just…?”

tenderly, so tenderly, matty takes your face in his hands and uses his thumbs to carefully wipe the tears pooling on your lower lashline. at his touch alone, your breathing starts to regulate; the same can't be said for your heart or brain, which both go haywire at the intimacy of his actions, something not helped by him whispering reassuringly to you. “there you are, darling. you're alright.”

it's not a question, but you nod anyway. “thank you.”

“anytime,” matty lets go of your face and sits back; you miss him as soon as he lets go. “right. now you can open it.”

with a smile, you lift the lid from the box - it falters, though, as soon as you take in the words on the paper in front of you. “these are outlines.”

“yeah, they are. look closer, darling.”

you squint at the paper, a choked noise escaping your lips. “feel free… fuck off. zadie gave you her essay notes?!”

“she did. and told me to give them to you.”

“how?”

“well,” matty grins, shuffling in his seat. “i went to see her and nick while i was in new york, and i asked her to sign the book while i was there. when she found out it was for you… she insisted you have those. printed more off for me and everything. she thinks you're the shit, darling.”

“you're sure she didn't say i was shit?” you hiccup, sliding the box onto the table before your tears hit the paper and picking up your glass for a long drink.

“positive. she only had lovely things to say about you,” matty takes your glass and refills it, beaming at you. “so, yeah. bit of a weird present, i know, but i knew you'd appreciate it.”

you laugh through your tears, wiping your eyes and shuffling your chair next to matty's to hug him. “i really do. and i appreciate you even more. thank you, lovely, you're too good to me.”

“nah, you deserve the best, darling,” matty’s hand comes up to rest on the back of your hair, stroking it gently.

you wallow in the tender moment for a second, before pulling back to smile at him. “m'sorry for crying, christ.”

he shakes his head. “don't worry about it, s'cute. and you still look fit when you cry, so…”

“shut up,” you laugh, shoving his shoulder.

“really, you look perfect,” matty smiles, eyes soft. “m'glad you came over early today. not just because it means we get the good potatoes, but because we get to do this, have a bit of peace before everyone gets here. s'nice. really nice.”

you nod. “it is. thanks for having me. and for the gift.”

he kisses your hand. “anytime. thank you for my gift. and just for being you, i s'pose.”

“it's like you want me to keep crying.”

“well, like i said, you look fit,” matty grins. “but nah, i'll stop. let's have a nice time and get rid of this champagne before everyone else gets here, yeah?”

“sounds like a plan.”

so that's what you do - sit at matty's kitchen table, drinking champagne and watching mayhem playing with his new toy, talking and laughing with your best friend. outside, the snow falls faster and faster, blanketing the garden in pristine white, but it's falling nowhere near as quickly as you are for matty. when the front door goes, you’re actually welcome for the excuse to leave the table, the kitchen, the intense care in those beautiful eyes that threatens to shatter your sanity and perspective.

it's your newly engaged friends, laden with more champagne and christmas crackers. once you've exchanged pleasantries, your friend sends her fiancé into the kitchen with the bags so she can interrogate you. “now why are you here so early? you're a little bit unsteady on your feet… oh my god, did you and matty fuck?”

“no! christ! and keep your fucking voice down,” you hiss, looking back down the hall to make sure the coast is clear. “i came over early to help with dinner. and we opened champagne. that's it.”

her eyes narrow. “but you want to fuck him, don't you?”

you open your mouth to answer, but pause for a split-second too long; she cuts back in again. “oh, you do! well, you should.”

“i don't just want to fuck him, babe,” you sigh, leaning against the cold concrete wall. your brain is screaming at you to shut up, but you can't. “i… like him. in a more-than-platonic way. like in a deep way.”

“so… tell him that.”

you blanch. “today?”

“yes! it's christmas. we've all seen love actually - it's the perfect time!” she quietly claps, beaming. “and you won't see him again until my birthday dinner, so if the revelation goes tits up… you've got two months to get over it.”

“really filling me with confidence here.”

“sorry,” she kisses your cheek. “i just like the thought of the two of you being happy, that's all.”

“i know, it's just-”

“darling?” matty wanders down the hall to you, pulling your friend into a welcoming hug, then turning to face you. “sorry to interrupt, but your timer is going off.”

“oh, thanks, lovely,” you smile at him. “be in in a minute, yeah?”

“alright. looking forward to it,” with a wink, he's gone again.

your friend smiles at him, then turns to you. “he is looking forward to you returning to the same room as him. how interesting!”

“yeah, because it means we all get the roast potatoes i made. that's it.”

“oh, you made those again? amazing,” she nods appreciatively, then looks at you and tilts her head. “he could still just be looking forward to being in close proximity to you again, though. wonder if there's any mistletoe around.”

“shut up, please, i am literally begging.”

she laughs, tucking you under her arm and walking to the kitchen. “alright, i'll leave it be tonight. but i'm just saying - i think you have to seriously consider that matty might want you under his christmas tree this month just as much as you want him under yours.”

“and i think you have to seriously consider that you might be delusional.”

“well, we'll soon find out, i'm sure.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #christmas75 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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toomuchracket · 6 months

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halloween (dad birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

a slightly late final day of promptober fic, featuring both your daughter's cat and her slay of a halloween costume. short and sweet. enjoy! <3

the cat shuffling around on matty's chest makes his eyes shoot open. fuck, had he really fallen asleep on the sofa, dozed off watching the football like his own dad, and his dad before him? christ.

how embarrassing. he's not that old.

blinking back into the realm of the conscious, matty squints at the score at the top left of the tv screen - still nil-nil, the same as it was fifteen minutes ago. that comforts him, despite the looming threat of a newcastle league relegation dependent on them winning this match. he's not old, he's just a tired man who fell asleep watching a boring game after a long, work-filled week.

matty hums happily at that conclusion. the noise vibrates through his shirt-clad chest, making eloise - the ragdoll kitten so named after amy's latest literary obsession, the protagonist of a book series her mum brought home with her from new york - lift her little head and look at him curiously.

he stares back at her. "yes, madam?"

unsurprisingly, eloise doesn't dignify him with a verbal response. she nuzzles softly into his chest, though, and goes back to gently kneading his ribs with a purr, which makes matty smile. not so much at the cat herself, although he does like how comfortable eloise is with him, but rather thinking about how your six-year-old would react to the sight; she's been obsessed with the "eloise is making daddy biscuits!" joke since you told her about it last month, and every time she sees eloise's kneading in action she puts on the gleeful smile she also learned (well, inherited) from you.

you, now audibly walking towards the living room, voice humming what matty thinks is fantasy by mariah carey, heels clicking against the concrete steps. the latter noise threatens to bring up memories of another halloween the two of you had in this house, where you ended up in bed in nothing but your heels, and matty has to focus really hard on thinking about the chord changes in the former noise before the memories become a problem for him, for you, and for getting amy to this bloody school disco on time.

"hi, baby," you smile, wandering over and leaning down to kiss your husband. mayhem pads in behind you, plonking himself down by matty's feet. "good game?"

"not in the slightest. what a shit evening," matty sighs, doing his best to reach down and scratch mayhem's head without disrupting eloise's baking prep. "you look hot, though, babe. really hot."

he's not lying, or exaggerating. the dark grey suit jacket you're wearing is cool as fuck, interestingly structured, and the matching mini pencil skirt and sheer black tights are doing wonders for your legs. maybe matty's biased, because you're his wife and he loves you, but if he had to define "milf", he would take a picture of you right now and use that to do it concisely.

"thanks, baby," you giggle at matty, and he grins and leans up to kiss you again. fuck, he loves flustering you with compliments - always has, always will. "it's not too… corporate?"

matty shakes his head. "it's hot, babe, really."

"well, it is ysl. you look hot, too, by the way, as always," you wink, and matty's heart skips a beat. "although we'll need to lint roller you before we leave, i think, given that somebody's gotten a bit too comfy resting on you and you're wearing full black. yes, missy, i'm talking about you!"

eloise languidly lifts her head again, to look at your smiling face this time; she purrs quite happily when you caress her, but her little face is almost defiant, unapologetic about her choice of seat. matty laughs - softly, as not to startle her - and waves a hand carelessly. "leave her be, she's comfy."

"you know, that old saying really is true."

"what old saying?"

"that there's nothing quite so special as the bond between a dad and the pet they used to claim they didn't want," you smirk, running a hand through matty's hair.

"oi! i never said i didn't want eloise," matty frowns.

"of course not, sweetheart," you kiss your husband's head, and scoop the cat up like she's a baby. eloise purrs again when you rub her stomach. "anyway, she's been summoned by our oldest baby girl, so your outfit's safe for now. there's a lint roller in that random drawer in the kitchen - use that, then meet me in the hallway in three minutes?"

matty smirks. "ooh, a secret halloween rendezvous?"

"no, matthew," you roll your eyes, but smile anyway. "so your daughter can do a big costume reveal for us before we have to leave the house. she's insistent we get the full effect, fully commit to the vibe."

"oh, my baby," matty beams. "i think we're doing a great job raising her. even though your habit of being late to parties has turned out to be a genetic thing."

"yeah, yeah," for the second time in as many minutes, you roll your eyes; you're clearly not that irritated by matty, though, considering you bend down to kiss him as slowly as time pressures (and eloise) allow. "see you in two minutes."

"looking forward to it," matty calls as you leave the room, sighing at the way mayhem follows you without a second glance at him. he supposes he should be used to it by now - ever since you started coming over to hang out all those years ago, mayhem's been completely, totally, utterly devoted to you.

like father, like son.

and like father, like daughter, matty thinks, when he meets you in the hallway a couple of minutes and a quick cat hair removal session later. he can hear amy from round the corner, frantically directing her mum before she makes her appearance. "from the top, mum! and don't forget eloise!"

"alright," you call through cheerily, a total contrast to the grimace on your face - matty has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. "presenting… her royal highness, amelia mignonette thermopolis renaldi, princess of genovia! and," you have to check your phone for the next bit. "the royal kitty, sir fat louie."

matty grins as amy starts to make her way down the corridor towards them, resplendent in a pretty white off-the-shoulder dress with matching gloves, a tiara adorning her bunned hair; his smile widens at the sight of her black headphones, eloise (also wearing a crown) comically big in her tiny arms, and the ray-bans he got her for her birthday to match his own. the princess diaries had been another recent literary and cinematic obsession of amy's, and she was adamant princess mia was her costume of choice for the halloween disco at school. she was also adamant her parents were going to be a part of it, too, which is why you're in your version of charlotte the PA's corporate chic outfit, and matty was forced to dig out an old leather blazer from the at their very best tour to loosely cosplay as joe the security guy.

he doesn't mind in the slightest, though - seeing his little girl smiling so big and having the time of her life is all that really matters to matty, and he'd do anything to make it happen. he's the same when it comes to you; he just loves his girls so much.

and he tells you both that when amy reaches the pair of you, curtseying demurely as you cheer and promptly burping dramatically immediately afterwards. yep. she's your collective offspring, alright.

"so," amy begins, putting eloise (who scampers off to bed) on the ground (with a "thank you for being part of this, eloise! i wish you could come with me, but i'll see you later)". "do you like my costume, dad?"

"i love it, munchkin," matty grins, kneeling to be level with amy. "you look beautiful. but also really cool! s'a perfect outfit for you, i think."

amy nods seriously. "i think so too," she turns to you, barrelling into your legs for a cuddle. "thank you for helping sort it for me, mummy."

"you're welcome, my girl. but," you tilt your head towards matty. "it wasn't me who got your glasses, the most iconic part!"

"oh yeah," amy launches herself into matty's arms, snuggling into him. his baby! he doesn't want to ever let go. "thanks, dad."

"that's alright, munchkin," matty catches a glimpse of his watch - the fancy one you bought him for christmas - over his daughter's head. "listen, my beautiful girls, we'd better get a move on if we want to get to the disco on time. coats on, please."

it's a sign of how excited amy is that she doesn't dispute putting a coat on and covering up her fancy outfit; instead, she just rambles on about her costume and her friends' planned costumes and how excited she is for the snacks and to see if any of her favourite songs are played. you and matty half-listen and half-swoon at how adorable she is, glancing at each other with little smiles on your faces as you begin the drive to the school.

one particular question of hers does pique your attentions, however. "see the foot pop at the end of the film when they kiss? is that a real thing?"

the car goes awkwardly silent as you and matty look at each other, truly unsure how to respond. matty does first. "it's certainly something you don't need to know for a good few years - decades, even."

amy's indignant. "i'm only asking, dad, i'm not going to kiss a boy! they have germs!"

"that's my girl!" you laugh, turning to wink at her; when you turn back to the front, your gaze locks onto matty's pretty face. "but yes, munchkin, it's a real thing. not for everyone, but it's real."

"even for you and dad?"

matty takes your hand and brings it to his lips. "definitely real for us, yeah."

"gross."

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #birthday baby #promptober75 #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fluff #matty x reader

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toomuchracket · 6 months

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hot chocolate (dad birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

short and sweet for the 19th day of promptober. no actual hot chocolate features but they do order it before the end of the fic lol. literally just two writer dorks and a five year old in their favourite city. enjoy! <3

"amy!" you hiss at your five year old, as she drops your hand and starts to tear down the busy street ahead of you, pale pink trench coat flowing behind her. "amy healy, get back he- oh my god. i sound like meryl streep."

matty snorts at your words, darting forward to grab your daughter's gloved hand before she goes too far. "but meryl streep in what film?"

you stare at him, unimpressed. "what film slash book did we name our daughter after?"

"gone girl."

your turn to snort, although it's probably less to do with matty's answer than it is to do with amy sighing dramatically and saying "no, dad, don't be silly. i'm named after little women!"

"how do you know that?" matty teases. "you weren't there when we picked your name. you were still in mum's tummy!"

"obviously," amy rolls her eyes. "but you told me it's been mum's favourite book since she was little, and you thought it would be special if i was called amy like one of the girls in it."

the memory makes you smile. titling and naming have never come as easily to you and your work as they have to matty and his, and you spent many a sleepless night stressing about what to call your baby girl; at least once a week, matty would wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed and you sitting at the bedroom window, poring over baby-name book after baby-name book, website after website, lit only by the moon. he would sit with you for a while, narrowing down options, before coaxing you back under the covers and reading to you and the bump to soothe you into sleep - sections of old novels with peaceful settings and serene plotlines, nothing that would take your attention away from cosiness. it worked on both of you, mostly, but when he started little women, the baby started to kick.

naming her was easy after that.

you sigh at the memory. both amy and matty turn to look at you, and the latter speaks. "you alright, darling?"

"mhmm," you nod, and take amy's other hand. "was just thinking about how you used to kick when dad and i would read little women to you, ames. you did that a lot here, actually, when we went to paris for a weekend."

amy looks between her parents suspiciously, as if she doesn't believe it. "really? i didn't know you came here when i was in mum's tummy."

"it was the last place we visited before we stayed at home and waited for you, sweetheart," matty squeezes her hand, then looks up at you softly. "couldn't have been anywhere else, really."

matty beams at you, and a wave of sheer déja vu soaks you to the bone - his face is more lined now, his hair shorter and more streaked with silver, but seeing that smile and those eyes against that exclusively-parisian backdrop of narrow rues and beautiful buildings and romance permeating the air just as much as oxygen itself… you're transported back to that first time here with him, getting to know him and realising you didn't want to live life without him in it. this city - and country, thinking back to your engagement - are just as much a part of your relationship as home in london is, and it's always special returning here together; even more so this time, getting to introduce it to your daughter.

said daughter is now tugging at your trouser leg to get your attention. "mum... mummy, you're in dreamland looking at dad again."

the exasperation in her voice snaps you out of your little matty trance (the first of many today, you're sure). "hmm? sorry, baby, what were you saying?"

"i'm asking if you and dad went to disneyland when you came here with me before i was born."

matty laughs so loudly that an elderly man nearby turns to look at him in disgust, muttering "imbécile" as he does. you go to fire back a quick "connard", but amy reacts appropriately enough for the whole family by sticking her tongue out at the man and blowing a raspberry; this makes matty laugh even louder, and you can't help but giggle at her satisfied grin either.

once the laughter dies down, matty wipes his eyes and speaks. "no, sweetheart, mummy and i did not go to disneyland while you were in her tummy. it would've been fun, i'm sure, but no."

"yeah," amy nods thoughtfully, a little crease forming between her brows as she thinks. "maybe you should have. cos then maybe i wouldn't have been so scared on haunted mansion yesterday."

you bite your tongue, looking pointedly at matty to make sure he does the same - as much as you want to laugh at her five year old logic, you don't want to run the risk of upsetting amy by making her feel silly. she really was terrified, clinging to you and matty in the little car as you weaved in and out of ghosts, and it got even worse when she got back to the hotel and got into bed; between 3 (when she ran through to your room, eyes weepy and lip quivering, terrified the hitchhiking ghosts had followed you) and 6am (when matty carried her, asleep, back to her own room and tucked her in with her teddy) this morning, you and matty spent your time doing all but saging the suite to make sure it was phantom-free.

"you were brave even saying you wanted to go on it, baby," you say, stroking amy's hair. "and you went to sleep so quickly after your bad dream - that was good."

"so did mum, ames," matty grins cheekily. "she was already sleeping when i went back through after i tucked you in! didn't even stay awake to kiss me goodnight. meanie."

amy giggles, while you roll your eyes and smile suggestively at matty. "i apologised for that when you woke up, didn't i?"

(read: you tugged your husband into the shower with you so you could suck his dick, a) to apologise for falling asleep and b) just because he was exceptionally dilfy the previous day and night.)

"that you did, darling, that you did," matty leans over amy's head to kiss you quickly. "m'still tired, though. need a cappuccino, i think."

"well, good thing we're almost at our destination," you smile, pointing at a building at the end of the street. amy starts to try and speed ahead again, but you keep a firm grasp on her little hand. "none of that, please, amy, you need to stay with mum and dad at busy roads."

"sorry, mummy," your daughter looks up at you, with a set of pleading puppy dog eyes exactly like her father's. "m'just excited to go."

your resolve cracks - you're incapable of resisting those eyes on matty as is, so you don't stand a chance against them on your far more adorable baby girl's face - and you coo. "that's alright, sweetheart. i'm excited, too. what about you, babe?"

matty shrugs. "i'm here for whatever, as long as my girls like it. and i can get a coffee."

"simp," you smirk, leaning up to kiss your husband's cheek and giggling as he pinches your hip indignantly. a pretty awning catches your eye, and you crouch to be level with amy. "look, baby, we're here!"

amy's little face lights up, but she stays calm, waiting patiently with you and matty as you enter the building and find a seat. smiling, you snap a sneaky picture of her as she tries to peruse the menu - sat at the white marble table in her little headband and the dusty rose cardigan she got as a christmas present from aunt patti (cashmere, the diva!), she looks so right, like a cool little princess of some kind. the fun anne hathaway-played type, though, not like the stuffy family you share a hometown with.

you lean over to whisper in matty's ear. "not to be dramatic, but it's never been clearer to me than in this moment that we're raising the most chic kid in the world."

"well, yeah, she's got us as parents," matty giggles in your ear, before being tugged to the other side by his other girl. "what's that, sweetheart? you need help with the menu? i thought you already knew what you were going to have!"

amy grins bashfully. "yeah… hot chocolate!"

"and a croissant? we can share one if you like."

she nods again, looking around the café in wonder. matty smiles lovingly at her, a look he keeps when he turns to you. "would you do the honours, my love?"

"of course," you kiss his hand, before scouting a passing waitress (whose eyes go wide when she realises who you and matty are, bless her) and ordering in french; she laughs when you crack a joke, promising to be right back with your drinks and pastries.

when you turn back to matty, he's still smiling lovingly. "it never fails to impress me when you do that."

"i know. you titled a whole album around it," you smirk, taking his hand. "and it never fails to make me blush, your reaction to it."

"good. i like making you blush. you look extra pretty when you're a little bit flustered," matty kisses your hand. "and i think you look extra pretty today in general. what do you think, ames?"

amy turns from people-watching to nod very seriously. you and matty both laugh, before you speak. "are you having a good day, baby? how would you describe it, in one word?"

she thinks for a second, brows raising just like matty's do when he ponders. "perfect."

matty nods, tugging you both into him. "yeah, it is."

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #birthday baby #promptober75 #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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toomuchracket · 1 year

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the birthday (after)party

hiya! here it is, part 2 of the birthday party! this one's EXTREMELY long and 18+ (beware, there is unprotected sex in this), because you are all horny bitches (affectionate) and wanted smut even though i have never written it before in my LIFE, but there is also a lot of requited love. please enjoy both the fic and this picture of matty i took at atvb glasgow, which is so sexy that it makes me want to gnaw my own arm off like chloë sevigny in bones and all (that's kinda spoilery. soz) - therefore, the perfect vibe for this. also, i don't think i clarified last time, but this fic is afab!reader, and there is gratuitous use of the phrase "good girl" within this part. thanks for all the support, and happy reading!

despite his penchant for smoke breaks in the cold, matty's hands are warm against your own. your fingers are interlaced with his, puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place, and the backs of your hands are pressed up against the wall behind you as the two of you continue your kisses.

when matty pulls away for a breath, you seize your chance and bring your connected hands to your mouth, kissing each of his knuckles consecutively, then standing on tiptoe to press a sweet kiss on his lips. eyes heavy with want, matty sighs softly as you lower your heels back onto the ground. he wraps both arms around your waist, while yours settle into their new home around his shoulders. "you're killin' me, darlin'," matty says into your hair, breathing in the botanical scent of your shampoo. "you're too sweet. i'm gonna die of a sugar rush if you keep it up."

you smile into the crook of matty's neck, one hand playing with the curls at the nape. the nail of your pinkie finger lightly scratches the milky skin there by accident, and you feel his breath hitch. a flush of desire passes over you, and you - still lightly, but with enough pressure to make your intentions clear - continue to slowly rake your hand downwards, across the defined back muscles obvious even through a suit jacket. "i can be even sweeter," you whisper into matty's ear, savouring the way his breathing slows. experimentally, you place a feather-light kiss on the spot where his jaw and neck meet, for which you are rewarded with a throaty groan that shoots straight into your lower stomach, and another on his lips. "why don't you take me home, and i can show you just how sweet i can be for you?"

just like he did with the cigarette earlier, matty breathes slowly into your mouth, hands sliding down to rest on your ass. this time, his exhale is shaky with obvious lust, rather than cigarette smoke; still, you feel a rush of something chemical, and tense every muscle in your body in war against the urge to squeal in ecstatic shock about the effect you have on him. his eyes blink open slowly, that beautiful brown almost hidden completely by his dilated pupils. "i've never wanted anything more in my life," he murmurs against your lips. he pulls his head back slightly, and the tenderness in his gaze almost makes you cry. suddenly, though, in a way that's just so matty, the tenderness changes to glee as he cheekily slaps your asscheek. "let's get a move on, then!"

you roll your eyes, but hold out your hand for him to take; after kissing it quickly, matty leads the two of you back into the bar. although the placement of his hand in yours is by no means new - you've lost count of the times you've desperately grasped each other at shows and festivals and on nights out, your joined hands keeping you from getting lost in seas of strangers - you've never noticed just how right it feels, his calloused hand on your ink stained one. the closest analogy you can think of is likening it to a favourite sweater. a perfect fit. warm. relaxing. something you don't ever want to take off.

matty continues to hold your hand when you re-enter the bar, too, only dropping it to help you with your coat; even then, he takes it back in his grasp immediately as soon as you turn to face him, and smiles excitedly at you. "ready to go, sweetheart?"

he's so beautiful in this moment, all sharp jaw and grey strands of hair and big brown eyes illuminated by the dim but warm lighting in the bar. you tell him that, and watch his cheeks tint pink as he shakes his head, smiling in spite of himself. moving closer to you, matty kisses your temple and leans to murmur something in your ear. "you need to stop saying stuff like that, babe, or i won't make it home."

your heart flutters against your sternum - whether from desire or sheer shock at just how much matty wants you, you aren't sure. maybe both. "let's go, then."

a final kiss to your lips, and matty pulls you towards the door in a french exit. as you pass the dancefloor, though, you make eye contact with the birthday girl, now jumping around with her fiancé to a talking heads song. her eyes widen as she clocks you and matty's linked hands and half-out-the-door state; when they snap up to meet yours, you quirk your brows and wink, to which she responds with a cheer of "FUCKING FINALLY!". some of your other friends start to turn around at the noise, but you and matty are outside before they notice you.

the familiar walk to matty's house is short, although the burning desire practically radiating off the pair of you makes it seem far longer. that, and the fact that matty insists on stopping at every red-lit pedestrian crossing, despite the uncharacteristic lack of london traffic; as you wait for the red men to vacate and the green to appear, he kisses you as deeply as he can within the limited timeframe.

after you've made it past the busier area and turned onto his street, you tease him about the frequent liplocking. "you really like smooching me, don't you?"

"yeah, i do," matty replies, in that cocky-yet-charming manner of his. "and you'd better get used to it, babe, because i've got to make up for all the years i wanted to kiss you and didn't, haven't i?"

christ.

your cheeks begin to burn, and you tuck your face into matty's side in an attempt to cool them down. "oh my god."

matty only giggles, throwing his arm gently around your head and kissing your temple. "i'm serious! the worst time was when we were all at mine and you got the call about your first novel getting picked for publication-"

"oh no."

"-and i walked into the kitchen and you were just sittin' on my countertop cry-laughin' in that green dress - my favourite, by the way - and you just looked at me and said 'they're publishing it' with total joy in your eyes," matty continues, ignoring your protests. "i just wanted to plant one on you so badly in that moment. i was so proud of you - still am, every day."

his confession liquifies your insides into a puddle. you stop, now outside his front door, and lean up on tiptoe to kiss him - gently at first, then with unabashed desire, until you're forced to pull away to breathe. "et toi, angel. now, get us inside and you can make up for all those years properly, yeah?"

spurred on by your request, matty presses your back against the door, kissing you sloppily as he tries to find his keys in his pocket. once he does, he breaks from your lips and fumbles with the lock, shaking hands not helped by your pressing kisses into his neck. "god, you're gonna be the death of me" he groans, as he finally gets the door open and walks you inside. "but fuck, i'll die a happy man."

you begin to giggle, the sound quickly cut off by matty's lips returning to yours. he slides your bag and coat off your shoulders, leaving them in a heap on the floor and pressing you against the wall. one hand tenderly cradles the back of your head, stopping it from smashing off the concrete, while the other grips your ass, pushing the front of your body against his, lithe and hard and hot. at the contact, heat pulses through your body and settles between your legs. "matty," you whimper into his open mouth. "need you."

"ok, sweetheart, you'll have me" matty breathes, kissing down your neck as he toes off his shoes. he begins to trail kisses down your body, crouching to unfasten the ankle straps of your heels. as he reaches eye-level with your thighs, he removes his lips from you, hands ghosting over the hem of your dress as you kick your shoes off - however, your involuntary hiss as your bare feet meet freezing concrete causes matty to pause his movement, clearly rethinking any notions he had of having his way with you in the hallway. before you can apologise for the noise, he's back standing, hands under your ass and wrapping your legs around his waist. "bedroom."

you continue to kiss as matty carries you - with surprising speed - through the twisting corridors of his house, only breaking it to giggle at him bashing his foot against the bedroom door as he kicks it open. the pain causes matty to drop you quite unceremoniously on his bed, and he mutters an apology before sliding off his suit jacket and crawling over you to return his lips to yours. this is the most passionate kiss of the night thus far, sloppy, hungry, as if you're both trying to consume the other.

suddenly lightheaded - but unsure if it's from lack of oxygen or want for matty overwhelming your very being - you break the kiss, instead focusing on sitting up and unbuttoning matty's shirt with trembling hands. he sits up on his knees and brings his hands to his chest to guide yours, pressing little kisses over your face. "hey, hey, darlin', it's alright," he coos. "know you want me, but i need you to calm down a bit, ok? relax. we have all the time in the world."

you exhale slowly, shakily, pushing matty's now unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. no matter how many times you see matty shirtless, whether he's sunbathing at a barbecue or dancing wildly onstage, his tattoos and defined muscles always make your knees threaten to give way; here, now, seeing them so close while on his bed, the effect of the sight goes straight to your core. and yet, despite the desire pulsing through your veins and beginning to pool in your panties, you don't feel compelled to immediately begin leaving hickeys or raking your nails all over matty's exposed skin. instead, you lean forward and place a chaste kiss over his chest tattoo, over his sternum, over his heart; that's what you feel compelled to do, probably by the same supernatural force that encouraged you to join matty in the smoking area and end up here.

it's matty's turn to exhale now, hand coming up to lightly stroke your messy hair as you rest your forehead against his heart, arms wrapping around him. you stay like that for a minute, enjoying the calmness of the sweet moment, until matty breaks the silence with a bombshell of a sigh. "fuck, i'm so in love with you."

you detach from him like you've been shocked, tilting your gaze to meet his. a beat passes, then matty begins to ramble, apologies and "its true but i shouldn't have said it"s and "let's just forget i said it"s and more apologies falling from his lips like a modern-day Joyce protagonist. before he talks himself unconscious, you shut him up the simplest way you know how: pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. when matty seems to have calmed down a bit, you pull away and bring your hands to his jaw, just as he did to you earlier. "i'm in love with you too."

his eyes widen. "you mean it?"

you nod. because you do mean it - you are in love with him. you have been for a while. you miss him when you aren't with him. you get butterflies in your stomach when you are. on more than one occasion, you've thought about what it would be like to grow old with him, the two of you still writing together at a farmhouse kitchen table while your grandkids play in the garden and multiple dogs lie at your feet. you like yourself better when you're around him. you like others better when you're around him. you want to cry at the mere thought of him with somebody else. you would do anything he wanted you to, and you know he would do anything for you. yeah. you're in love with matty, alright.

"oh, sweetheart," matty smiles, his eyes glassy as he pulls you into him and crashes his lips to yours. while there's an undercurrent of desire, this kiss is softer, sweeter, calmer; it feels like coming home. after it ends, matty rests his forehead against yours. the two of you bask in the tender glow of the moment - that is, until matty says something suggestive, as is his wont. "will you let me go down on you to show you how much i love you?"

in spite of the recent revelations, and the subsequent softness in the air, matty's question sends a burst of heat to your core so strong that you struggle to speak. nodding frantically, you croak out a "yes", and close your eyes as matty begins to kiss your neck and lift the hem of your dress, only reopening them once the black velvet is lifted over your head and matty lets out a quiet curse in exclamation. his pupils are almost fully dilated, eyes raking up and down your lingerie-clad body, mouth agape, hands clenching and unclenching.

to egg him on, you quickly reach around to unclasp your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders and discarding it somewhere on matty's floor. it has the desired effect; he blinks slowly once, then all but pounces on you, covering your boobs with grabs and caresses and kisses and sucks and bites. you relish matty's worship for a few glorious minutes, before he pulls himself up to your lips to kiss them again. "you're so beautiful," he mutters against your lips. "can i get you naked now, sweetheart?"

fuck. you whimper an affirmative, and you feel him smile against you before he gently pushes you down into the mattress. "lie down for me, baby, that's it," matty coos as he settles himself on his stomach, head resting on your thigh. eyes locked on yours, he slides a single finger up the middle of your clothed core, pressing it gently on your clit and making you gasp. "fuck, you're so responsive. good girl."

with that devastating phrase, matty hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulls them down, pushing your legs up to slide the black lace fully off and throw them away. he winks at you, grinning, then wraps his arms around your thighs and buries his face between your legs.

a cry of his name escapes your throat before you can stop it, which only seems to encourage him. you knew matty had a mouth on him, but this far exceeds any wet dream you've ever had; he's everywhere, sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it, then licking into you and lapping up your wetness like it's caramel, making you writhe on his mattress. somewhere in your addled brain, you thank everything holy for soundproofing concrete so well - had this dalliance taken place in your flat, the noises matty is coaxing out of you would warrant complaints from every other tenant in your whole building. he's making noise, too, moaning into your core and praising your sweet taste every time he comes up for air.

as the pressure in your lower stomach begins to grow, your hands find themselves on your boobs, squeezing and pinching your nipples in an imitation of matty's earlier actions. he stops working on you with his mouth, thumb toying with your clit as he admires you. "that's my girl," matty says, sending a direct shockwave to your clit. "my beautiful, beautiful girl. god, i love you so much."

with that, his mouth is back on your core, fingers parting your folds and thrusting inside you. the combination makes your head spin, the pressure within you growing ever-nearer to breaking point. one of your hands latches itself into matty's curls, resulting in another throaty groan, and you begin to grind yourself against his face and hand. "matty," you whimper, back arching off the bed. "please don't stop. m'so close, m'so fucking close."

matty moans into you again, speeding up his movements ever so slightly. he pulls his mouth from you briefly, so he's understood. "cum for me, sweetheart," he pants, thumb substituting for his tongue on your clit as he speaks. "be a good girl and cum on my tongue." with that, back down he goes. as soon as his tongue returns to you, your orgasm hits; you scream, clenching around his fingers, your whole body convulsing in icily-burning ecstasy. matty pulls every last bit of pleasure out of you, lapping at your clit increasingly softly until you whimper at the sensitivity.

matty pulls himself up to hover over your panting chest, although his forearms shake with the effort after how tight he held your thighs. he presses a gentle kiss to your lips, making you moan at the taste of yourself on him, before he speaks. "that was the sexiest thing i have ever experienced. i'm gonna think about that every fucking day of my life. thank you."

still breathing heavily, you giggle, pulling him down to lie atop you. matty nuzzles sweetly into your neck, somewhat contrasting the eroticism of his hard cock against your stomach. you bring a hand to the buckle of his trousers, which makes him sigh in contentment, and begin to undo it. "oh, i love you. thank you. will you let me return the favour now, angel?"

matty moans into your neck, his hands moving to his trousers to help you pull them down. he leans back slightly to kick them off, then sits up on his knees before you. "honestly, baby, as good as that sounds... i'm quite desperate to be inside you, if you feel ready for that."

slightly embarrassingly, you feel yourself get wet at matty's words. sitting up, you capture his lips with your own, your hands tugging at the waistband of his boxers. "please."

matty swears under his breath and yanks his boxers down his legs. holy fuck. his cock is beautiful; long and hard, weeping for attention. you swipe your thumb over the tip as matty reaches across to his bedside table, but he pulls back with a "for fuck's sake" before you start to work him further. "fuck, the condoms are in the bathroom cupboard. i'll be two seconds, babe, let me just-"

"wait," you sit up on your elbows, preening internally at the way matty's gaze falls to your boobs moving as you do so. "i mean... i'm alright not using one, if you're cool with that. i don't mind, either way."

matty's eyes close, and you don't miss the way his cock twitches slightly at your words. "well, i'm clean, if you're sure you don't mind going without-"

"i am too"

"-but what about... other things?"

"well, going by my biological calendar, we should manage to avoid that this time," you begin, moving to caress his face, his eyes fluttering open as you do. "but even if we don't, i've always maintained that you'd be a proper dilf, so..."

"fuck, i really do love you," matty grins, turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. he settles himself better between your legs, wrapping them around his waist, thumb lightly circling your sensitive clit. "do you want me to fuck you now?"

you slide your arms down onto the bed so you're lying flat again, tipping your head back against the pillows. "mhmm."

matty moves so he's leaning over you, pausing his hand movement and replacing his thumb on your clit with the tip of his cock. "need to hear you say it, sweetheart" he whispers, directly into your ear. "can you do that for me?"

the whole scenario is so erotic that you can't stop the needy whimpers you emit as a response. "please, please matty, want you inside me, please".

"good girl," comes the reply, and then matty's cock is at your entrance, pushing slowly inside you, stretching you out. he's big, the biggest you've ever had, but the stretch and the sensation of him inside you after all this time is nothing short of delicious. matty leans down to kiss you as he bottoms out, the two of you moaning into each other's mouths like it's your own shared language.

after a few slow thrusts, matty breaks the kiss to hover over you. "fuck... shit, you feel so good, baby," he pants out between thrusts. "can i speed up a bit? are you ready?"

his attentiveness towards you is incredible; matty looks like he might combust if he doesn't pick up the pace, jaw open and loose and dark eyes heavy, but he keeps the slow tempo until you answer. "fuck me harder, please. want it so bad."

matty smiles above you, kissing your forehead gently. "anything for my girl."

and with that, most of the gentleness disappears; matty pulls out almost all the way, then slams back into you, making you cry out his name and tangle your fingers in his hair again. he picks up speed, too, moving those hips of his rapidly as he chases orgasms for both of you.

the position doesn't change the whole time - it's perfect, matty's cock hitting your sweet spot every thrust and making you clench around him. you're aware of yourself babbling between moans of his name, but you have no idea what you're saying; all coherent thought in your brain has been replaced by love for the man above you and his sexual prowess, the man alternating between kissing your neck and sucking on your nipples, the man responding to your shit-talking with adoring coos. "fuck, good girl, taking my cock so well, so perfectly. you were fucking made for me, weren't you? made for me to make you feel good, yeah?"

it's overwhelming, especially after the intensity of your last orgasm. the familiar feeling in your stomach begins to build again, your jaw trembling and eyes rolling back into your head as matty continues to fuck you just so perfectly. when your legs begin to shake around his waist, he brings his thumb to your clit and kisses into your neck. "you're close, aren't you, sweetheart? can you cum for me again? cum all over my cock?"

again, it's matty's words that do it. you yank his face down to your own, scratching his back so hard it bleeds and making out with him as he brings you to another convulsing orgasm. it's not a long kiss, though - matty pulls away from you as you clench around him in the throes of pleasure, his hips stuttering as he nears his own release. "where...?"

"inside," you gasp out, clinging to his sweaty shoulders. "wanna feel you."

face above you, dark eyes boring into your own, matty whines loudly - the hottest thing you've ever heard - as he finishes inside you, pulsing heat into your core. he holds himself up long enough afterwards to place a kiss on the end of your nose, then flops on top of you, cock softening inside you, head resting on your boobs. "best sex i've ever had. i love you."

"i love you too," you reply, caressing his sweaty hair. "can't wait to do that with you every day for the rest of our lives."

matty giggles softly, kissing inbetween your boobs before raising his head to look at you. "and i was thinking, if we have a boy in 9 months, we should name him after me."

"whatever you want, babe."

#ok i'm exhausted #mads does writing #matty healy #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #the 1975 #mads muses #matty x reader #matty healy fanfiction #into the birthday partyverse

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toomuchracket · 1 year

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the birthday party

(yo. first fic! a lil friends to lovers for the "write what you want week" trope night, hosted by @imightgetbetter! probably too long, probably a bit shit, but we move. the pic of matty below is what he looks like in my mind for this fic lol. enjoy!)

your heels crack off the concrete ground like peals of thunder as you run up the steps at the train station. the restaurant is just up the street, the strings of fairy lights in its window an oasis in the darkness of the february evening. you pause for a beat, shifting the strap of your bag further onto your shoulder and tightening your grip around the bouquet of yellow and orange tulips in your left hand, then continue your sprint towards the twinkling windows.

a red light at a pedestrian crossing hinders you for a few aching minutes. you slip your phone from your coat pocket and scan the screen to pass the time. your friends have replied to the message you sent to the groupchat berating your delayed train; it's cool, don't worry, these things happen, we'll order you a drink for you getting here. after heart-reacting as many messages as your freezing fingers will allow, you send another. off train, will be there in 2 mins x

green again. still clutching both your phone and the flowers, you run the final stretch of pavement, slowing as you near your finish line. the birthday girl is waiting at the door of the restaurant, her bare arms folded against her sequinned chest. her lips arch into a smile as you approach, panting slightly, and she opens her arms for a hug. you manoeuvre into it as best you can with your own upper limbs preoccupied, and speak into her shoulder: "thank you for coming out to meet me. i'm so sorry i'm late." you pull away from her hold, offering her the flowers. "happy birthday, bitch."

birthday girl's smile grows even wider, radiant, genuinely touched. "thanks, angel, you really shouldn't have," she says, taking the bouquet from you and inhaling the scent. "and don't worry at all about being late - we're all just happy you could make it. some more than others, i think."

her smile shifts slightly with the last sentence, into something more... knowing. you raise an eyebrow. "what's your point, exactly?"

"oh, nothing," she shrugs. before you can protest, she smoothes a bit of hair on the side of your head and interlinks her arm with your own. "you look beautiful, by the way. let's head in."

you let her lead the way through the semi-crowded restaurant to the table of your friends. a cheer goes up as they spot you, which makes you blush. birthday girl's fiance stands up to hug you and take your coat. "we saved you a seat up the end there," he says, with a slight incline of his head to the other end of the long table. "next to-"

matty.

you turn to the birthday girl, who simply smiles saccharinely at you, before she nudges you to the end of the table and a set of sparkly brown eyes. one of them closes in a wink as you approach, while the man they belong to slowly rises from his seat. your heart flutters involuntarily, and your greeting comes out as a whisper. "hiya."

"hi, darlin'," comes the reply, as he pulls you into a quick hug. you quickly inhale his scent, a strong mix of tobacco and aftershave, undercut with a hint of the weed he enjoys smoking so much; a scent so sorely him that even the slightest hint of it makes your knees tremble and heart race. here, now, breathing it in in its purest form, you think you might pass out if he wasn't holding you. "it's good to see you again. s'been too long."

"yeah," you inhale softly. you break the embrace, and trail your hands gently down to hold his own larger ones, calloused from years of guitar playing. he rubs his thumbs softly over the back of your hands as you take in his lithe, black-suited body and the mop of dark curls atop his (perfect) head. "you look lovely. really well."

matty's cheeks flush slightly, lifting into a smile uncharacteristically bashful for a rockstar of his calibre. "you flatter me too much, sweetheart. and you look beautiful."

you can feel your cheeks redden as you giggle awkwardly. "the birthday girl said the same thing."

"and for once in her life, she's right," matty replies, placing a hand on the small of your back - a gesture that makes your stomach muscles twitch into tension - and guiding you into the seat next to his. he keeps one of his hands on yours, though, even as you both sit down. "not like the time she got really into french new wave shit and tried to convince us all that cycling across paris on a saturday in july was a good idea."

the memory makes you chuckle. "no, the two of us were right that day. find a quiet restaurant, sit outside drinking for five straight hours, and laugh when everyone else shows up grumpy and sore."

"that was my favourite day of the whole holiday," matty says, almost dreamily, resting his elbow on the table and his face on his hand. "you and i weren't close until then, not really. was nice to just sit and open up to each other. i love doing that with you."

"i know exactly what you mean," you reply, glowing at his words. "getting little glimpses into your brain is my favourite thing."

matty's face changes slightly as you finish talking, the expression something you can't quite describe. the air in the room feels heavier now, as if your honest words are lingering and weighing it down; you try to blow them away by continuing to speak. "and that wine we had was fucking wonderful, too!"

the brown eyes fixed on your own restart their twinkling, as matty slides a stemless glass of burgundy liquid to you. it's identical to the one in front of him, albeit fuller. "speaking of..."

you gasp. "no fucking way."

matty winks at you, smirking - a deadly combination to your heart - clearly proud of himself. as he clinks his glass against yours in a silent cheers, though, his bravado disappears, replaced by something almost resembling tenderness. "i remember you saying it was the best drink you'd ever had. every wine list i read, i look for it. here's the first place outside of paris that they've actually had it."

jesus.

you take a sip of the wine first, to taste, then go back in for a longer drink. it's good, better than you remember, so good that your eyes close involuntarily in pleasure as the fruity smoothness makes its way further down your body, leaving a trail of warmth behind. when you reopen them, matty is still looking at you softly, pretty lips curved into a slight smile. it's the most tender moment you've experienced in a long time, and you don't want to ruin it by talking.

instead, you put down your glass and shuffle your chair as close as you can to his, pointedly ignoring the shiver that dances across your skin as your thigh meets his own, and pull him into another hug. this one is longer, slower, closer - your arms rest on his shoulders, his settle around your waist. with your face in such close proximity to his neck, his scent - already ruinous to you - is inescapable; it consumes you, fills your airwaves and clouds your brain until all you can think is matty, matty, matty. before you lose all sense of coherent thought to him, you murmur a "thank you" into his shoulder, and you swear his arms tighten slightly around you. you stay entwined for a bit longer, neither of you willing to be the one to break the hold. it's only when you hear an "oi! lovebirds! can we order now, please?" from further down the table that you both reluctantly pull apart, smiling sweetly at each other.

the dinner passes without incident, aside from the birthday girl breaking a lightbulb as she over-enthusiastically opens a bottle of champagne. you talk to matty, about his music and your writing and your families and new hobbies and the shit tv you've been watching, and also to the rest of your friends. it's a lovely night, so lovely that nobody really wants to go home after the plates have been cleared and the bill has been paid - when someone suggests continuing the evening in a bar down the street, the response is a unanimous "yes".

so you go, you continue your conversations and your drinking, although the bar doesn't have the french wine you and matty drank a bottle of together earlier, much to your disappointment. you even dance, with your girls, to the overly-bass-heavy songs blasting through speakers hidden everywhere in the dimly lit room. it's fun, absolutely, but you find yourself distracted, eyes constantly flicking to matty. he's so beautiful, standing at the bar laughing with the boys and absent-mindedly toying with his hair, that it makes your heart ache. when he pulls a lighter out of his pocket and makes a beeline for the back door, you're compelled by some supernatural force to follow him, shouting excuses about wanting fresh air across the music to your friends.

a quiet curse leaves your lips as you step coatless into the crisp winter night. at the noise, matty looks up from his phone with a furrowed brow, cigarette between his lips. when he sees it's you walking towards him, he takes the cig between his fingers and exhales the smoke far more attractively than should be allowed. "y'alright, darlin'?"

"mm-hmm," you reply, leaning opposite him against the wall. "just needed some air, is all. but i'll gladly bum a cig off you, if you're offering."

matty rolls his eyes. "not this shit again, sweetheart. s'not good for you. i don't want you adopting my bad habits, do i?"

you pout sweetly and bat your lashes. "please? just one?"

matty looks at you for a second, taking a long drag of the cig as if to taunt you, before he sighs. "listen," he starts. "if you're that desperate for a nicotine hit, i'll shotgun you. just this once, yeah? don't need you ruining your pretty lungs with these things."

"deal."

matty sighs again, but takes another long drag and leans down to your level, placing his hands on the wall beside your head. "open up, then."

ignoring the way your stomach jumps at his command, you part your lips as he exhales, taking all the smoke leaving his mouth into your own. neither of you move once it's done, though; you still lean casually against the brick wall, flanked by matty's hands, both of you breathing heavily, lips mere inches apart. matty's gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes, and then it happens.

you're kissing.

it starts sweetly, lips on lips and nothing more, but the wine from earlier emboldens you - daringly, you swipe the tip of your tongue oh so gently over matty's bottom lip. his breath hitches, and something within him just shifts. the cigarette is flung to the ground, forgotten, and his hands come up to hold your jaw as his tongue finds its way into your mouth. as you continue to make out, your hands clutch at the lapels of his suit jacket - whether to hold yourself upright or just to keep him close to you, you have no idea. all you know is that you're finally kissing matty, and you don't want it to stop.

eventually, though, the human requirement for oxygen means that it must. it's matty who pulls away from you first, although he looks physically pained to be doing so. his hands remain on your jaw, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as he breathes heavily, adoration in those sparkling brown eyes of his. "you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that," he pants, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "fucking hell, sweetheart."

panting just as much as matty, you smooth down his lapels and smile sweetly at him. "well, for me, it's been... wait, how many years has it been since we first drank that wine in paris?"

matty's eyes widen slightly. he giggles - the sweetest sound you think you've ever heard - and pulls you in for another kiss; still as passionate, but more tender than the first, with an underlying gravitas that makes your heart feel funny. this time, when he pulls away, he looks... nervous. "look, this might be too forward, and you can absolutely say no and it'll be fine. but i wanna ask you" he begins, his hands trailing down your sides and coming to rest on your hips, eyes boring into your own. "would you like to come home with me tonight? i would love it if you do."

you've never been more sure of an affirmative decision in your life.

#this is so wack #mads does writing #matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy fluff #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #matty x reader #into the birthday partyverse

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toomuchracket · 7 months

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scary movies (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

day 3 of promptober75! this is less about scary movies than it is about the two of them musing on romance. but they do watch bones and all! i don't think there are any spoilers, but don't yell at me if there are please lol this isn't proofread. yeah, this is just a cutely weird little fic about some cutely weird people. i hope you enjoy!

"baaaaaaaabe, hurry up. i miss you!"

you can hear the pout in matty's voice, even from the next room of the hotel suite. picking up the bowl of m&ms in one hand and the open bottle of champagne in the other, you pad back into the bedroom. "how can you miss me? you've been with me the whole day."

"i always miss you when i'm not right beside you, no matter how long it's for," matty replies, sitting up on his knees on the bed to carefully take the bowl and bottle from your hands. the way his stomach muscles shift with the movement makes your knees run the risk of shaking. "the night before our wedding is going to be hellish for me. are you sure we can't just stay together? al green it?"

"baby, it's tradition."

"peer pressure from dead people, you mean."

"fine, another reason, then. oh, here's one - absence makes the heart grow fonder. you can't argue with Classical poetry."

"try me, babe."

you sigh. "matty, sweetheart, love and light of my life, sole occupant of my head and heart… it's only for twelve hours of our lives. and we will literally be on the same floor of the same building. it'll be fine!"

matty quirks a brow.

god, he's stubborn. you inhale deeply before you talk again. "alright. i'll wait until the bridesmaids are asleep and then we can sneak out together for a walk. but i'm not sleeping with you at all - in either sense, actually - regardless of how crippling your separation anxiety is."

"i can work with that, darling. thank you," matty smiles and leans up to kiss you.

before he can, though, you place your index finger on his pretty lips. "not so fast, healy, i have a caveat: i'll only do it if we can share a cig."

matty rolls his eyes, and nudges your finger from his face with a quick head movement. "should've seen that one coming. christ, fine. one cigarette, and that's it. don't want any rattling coughing fits during our vows."

you giggle, leaning down to kiss him; the speed with which his face softens afterwards is comical, almost cartoon-like. "thanks, angel."

"mmm, can't wait to marry you," matty murmurs against your lips. "nor can i wait for you to get into bed with me so i can cuddle you the way i've wanted to all day."

"point taken, baby, just let me…" your face screws up as you reach around to unclasp your bra through your (matty's) t-shirt, before pulling it out from under the soft material and launching it towards the open suitcase in the corner of the room. relief palpable, you climb onto the bed and grin at an enamoured matty, now sitting against the plush headboard and swigging champagne. "freedom at last."

"you know, i'd gladly do that for you, sweetheart," matty smirks, tugging you onto his lap with one arm. "in the name of feminism, and all."

"as much as i commend your attempts to champion the gender, baby, i'll pass," you smile, enjoying the tiny moan that slips from your fiancé's lips as you weave your hands into his hair. "because i know if i let you do that, your hands are gonna end up on my tits, and then we'll never get anything done."

"oi, that's not true," matty frowns (cutely). "we'll get each other done. and i know you enjoy that. as do i, my god."

his lips attach themselves to your neck, making their way down; your insides begin to liquify, but you fight through the slight haze of pleasure and stand your ground. "yeah, i really do enjoy it. but, baby, there's other stuff i enjoy doing with you that i wanna do too, yeah? like… watching this film we agreed we were gonna put on tonight."

matty groans against your skin. "must we?"

"yes. you promised me, matty," you say, as firmly as you can with his lips still attached to your collarbone. "we watched the irishman yesterday because you wanted to, and you said we could do bones and all today. it's only fair."

"a romance film about cannibalism," matty mutters to nobody in particular. "it's foul, that concept."

"well, fair is foul and foul is fair."

"what?"

"macbeth. shakespeare. can't argue with him. anyway," you say, shuffling around so matty can lean back against your chest. "can i put the film on now?"

a deep sigh, one that seems to drag itself up from the depths of matty's soul. "depends."

"on?"

"it depends," matty begins dramatically. "on if you're going to spend the rest of the day thirsting over timothée chalamet or not."

"you know, i seem to like him a lot more in your head than i do in real life."

"really?"

"yeah."

matty hums, appeased. "sick. go on, then, stick it on."

you press a kiss to matty's temple and snake a hand across his torso to hold his own. matty brings it to his lips, and the contact seems to release a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. "thank you, lover."

the beginning of the film passes without much incident; that is, until the first lightly gory scene. you wince a little at the sound of cracking bone, but you're nowhere near as bad as matty, who almost upends the bowl of sweets resting on his lap and vigorously shakes his head as if it'll erase the memory from his brain.

once it passes, he reaches for the champagne on the bedside table and takes a long drink, before passing the bottle to you. "maybe you'd better hang onto that, darling."

"alright, baby."

despite both of your respective silences, and although you can't see matty's face, you can picture the disgust colouring his features from the way his head tilts against you as the film progresses. he doesn't speak until the film's main villain is introduced, reaching back for the champagne with a "creepy fucker, that one"; this sentiment is built upon at the shot of a james joyce book in said fucker's residence. "oh, christ, he really is suspicious."

despite your own discomfort towards the happenings on-screen, you grin at matty's assessment. "i mean, yeah, baby. but i think the lurking and creeping kinda gave that away already."

"well, obviously. but that book's an extra layer of him being an absolute wrong'un."

you giggle, wrapping your other arm around matty and resting your head on his shoulder. with a happy little huff of air through his nose, matty turns slightly to kiss your cheek; the two of you stay like that, cosied up in a tableau of casual domestic intimacy. it's sweet, for a while, and comfortable - matty even rips the piss out of you at a particular scene involving timothée chalamet and a cornfield, touting it as "your dream movie death, babe".

(he's lowkey not wrong.)

the sweet moment breaks somewhat, though, as the film progresses and matty gets increasingly more grossed out. with every drop of blood spilled, every jumpscare, every mere mention of the "eating" driving the plot, the muscles in his limbs loosen and contract back into tension, soundtracked by a chorus of gasps, gulps, groans of disgust, and the odd "oh for fuck's sake" when things get really horrid. in spite of your own discomfort at some of the gore, you can't resist fucking with your fiancé a little bit; amidst a silently fraught moment for maren, the protagonist, you lean right next to an unsuspecting matty's ear and crunch a handful of m&m's in your mouth. he practically hits the ceiling in fright, and pinches your thigh with a "not fucking funny". but he doesn't let go of you at all, however grumpy you make him, holding you like a lifeline throughout. in fact, by the time the credits start rolling, matty's fully squished his face into your ribs to get away from the gore on screen, thumbs rubbing your thighs so quickly to try and calm his noticeably thumping heart that you fear he might accidentally set your skin ablaze.

despite his terror, though, you have to hold back a laugh. "matty, sweetheart," you say, trying with all your might to keep your voice steady. "were you scared of that movie?"

"no, just unnerved by it," comes the clearly- untrue reply, muffled by your cotton-mix-clad chest. "like, they were just constantly eating raw? really? mingin'."

you can't hold back a derisive cackle now, though. "you're freaked out at people eating raw meat? you fucking hypocrite!"

"i wasn't eating people, was i?" matty protests.

"i don't know, i think you ate with it at finsbury."

matty scoffs, but you feel him smile against you. "you're a right weirdo, sometimes, you know that?"

"and you're a scaredy-cat, you know that? honestly. can't even handle a bit of cannibalism in a movie. pussy."

your fiancé pulls back from your chest to look at you, and you regret your words immediately as soon as you see the shit-eating grin on his face. "well, you are what you eat."

an immediate facepalm. "i can't stand you."

"that ring on your left hand suggests otherwise, darling," matty kisses said ring, then presses little pecks up your finger to the tip. "and look at that - you can be romantic and kiss fingers without wanting to munch on them. this film is nonsensical. i mean, i get it's some metaphorical thing about loving people for who they truly are, but jesus, the cannibalism isn't half disgusting."

"hmmm, i don't know," you muse, twirling matty's curls around your fingers. "i think there's something romantic about it. the ending with maren and lee, at least."

matty peels your fingers out of his hair and moves to face you, his beautiful face contorted into the most bewildered expression you think you've ever seen. "are you on something right now?"

"i'm serious! it's romantic, if ill-advised. and messy."

"sweetheart," matty shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "politely - what the fuck are you on about?"

you smile. "well, it's all about desire, and lust, yeah?"

"yeah, i get that, but…"

"so, it's just needing somebody so much that you, well, you consume them in their entirety. and also, like," you continue, pushing your slipping glasses back up your nose. "there's an element of closeness to it, too. how much more intimate can you get than having your lover being broken down in your digestive system, literally fuelling you the way their love does so emotionally? oh, and devotion! giving yourself up to your lover like that to sustain them? you're together forever. yeah, it's disgusting, but you can't deny there's a romance to it, matty, you really can't."

he looks like he wants to, though. "but it's so violent."

you roll your eyes. "says the man who wrote a song about the idea of cracking his girlfriend's skull open, just so he could know exactly what she was thinking. and i thought that was sweet, and romantic."

matty opens his mouth as if to disagree, then closes it and shrugs. "actually, you've got a point, darling," he smiles almost shyly, tracing patterns in the bare skin of your shin. "i wrote that about you, you know."

"you did? aww, baby," you coo, pulling your fiancé's face towards you so you can kiss all over it. "i had no idea!"

"oh, come on, babe, who the fuck else would it have been about?" matty scoffs. "used to daydream about being so intimate with you like this, just hearing you think out loud, as unedited as you'll ever get."

you smirk. "bet you didn't think the thoughts would be about the inherent romance of cannibalism, huh?"

matty laughs, leaning in to kiss you slowly, deeply, passionately. "no, but it doesn't matter. i love you regardless."

"i love you too. and i promise i won't try to eat you, baby."

"nor will i take a heavy object to your skull, sweetheart. however," matty smirks, shuffling down the bed to rest his head in the gap between your legs. "i would quite like to eat you in a slightly different sense, if you'll allow."

"oh, go on then."

#mads does writing #mads muses #into the birthday partyverse #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfic #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #promptober75

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toomuchracket · 2 months

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i need to go insane about this for a second

#he says that to amy and she frowns and then looks at mayhem and says sorry lol #mads muses #into the birthday partyverse #birthday baby #matty #amy #mayhem

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toomuchracket · 1 year

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masterlist

in chronological order within their au

the birthday party series (matty x reader)

all i want for christmas - fluffy, pre-dating, part of christmas75 2023

the birthday party - fluffy

the birthday (after)party - fluffy, smutty

pregnancy scare [blurb] - fluffy

queen of hearts - fluffy, part of valentine's week 2024

bday girl [drabble fic] - fluffy, suggested smut, part of The Birthday Party Project

costumes - smutty (quite!), fluffy, part of promptober75 2023

it's only been a year - fluffy

all those dreams where you're my wife - fluffy

scary movies - fluffy, suggested smut, part of promptober75 2023

you would cook, i'd do the nappies - smutty, fluffy

hot chocolate - fluffy, one mention of smut, established family, part of promptober75 2023

halloween - fluffy, established family, part of promptober75 2023

instagram au

flatmate!matty x reader

lore blurb: condom-gate (smut, fluff)

falling for you - fluffy, a teensy bit angsty, pre-relationship and pre-flatmates part of promptober75 2023

i'll do anything that you wanna - fluffy, pre-relationship

and this is how it starts - smutty, fluffy, in-relationship (day 1 of being together!!)

bonfires - fluffy, mentions of smut, in-relationship, part of promptober75 2023

promises to keep - fluffy, in relationship, part of valentine's week 2024

bday boy [drabble fic] - fluffy, suggested smut, in-relationship, part of The Birthday Party Project

snowed in - fluffy, suggested smut, part of christmas75 2023

dad!matty x reader (continuation of flatmate!universe, but can be read separately)

i'd rather jump in your bones - smutty, fluffy, parents-to-be

when i found you, much younger than you are now [drabble fic] - fluffy, includes a flatmate!matty section, ten years of self-titled focus

autumn mornings - smutty, fluffy, part of promptober75 2023

birthday surprise - fluffy, part of matty35/the birthday party project 2024

d word [daddy] matty x reader

lore blurb: introduction of d word (smut, fluff, weed lol)

meet cute - fluffy, pre-relationship, part of promptober75 2023

birthday wish - fluffy, pre-relationship, part of matty35/the birthday party project 2024

keep dreaming - smutty, solo matty, pre-relationship

home for christmas - fluffy, pre-relationship, part of christmas75 2023

candlelight - smutty (extremely it's their first time fucking), established relationship, part of promptober75 2023

i've been dying to meet you [drabble fic] - fluffy, established relationship

stupid cupid - fluffy, mentions of smut, established relationship, part of valentine's week 2024

drunk in love - smutty, fluffy

gone four weeks [drabble fic] / part 2 / part 3 - angsty, non-canon

totally wrecked - smutty (like honestly filthy), established relationship

on the bed in my room - smutty (filthy. the filthiest thing on here, actually), slightly fluffy, established relationship

you're the only thing that's going on in my mind - smutty (so smutty), mean dom matty, established relationship, pregnant reader

in front of a mirror - fluffy, established relationship, established family, part of promptober75 2023

politician matty x reader

and america likes me - smutty (quite!), established relationship

office nerd matty x reader

the if you're too shy series - part 1 (fluffy), part 2 (fluffy), part 3 (smutty, fluffy)

birthday sleepover - smutty, fluffy, part of matty35/the birthday party project 2024

matty x reader

sneaking out - smutty, slightly angsty, fwb reunion, part of promptober75 2023

dad!ross x reader

happiness - fluffy

black cat - fluffy, part of promptober75 2023

secret admirer - fluffy, part of valentine's week 2024

ross x shy gf!reader

elope with me - fluffy, part of promptober75 2023

dearly beloved - fluffy, part of valentine's week 2024

ross x girlband gf!reader

sweet touches - fluffy, ever so slightly angsty, part of promptober75 2023

my whole life, waiting for you / part 2 - angsty, fluffy

lovers' quarrel - angsty, fluffy ending, part of valentine's week 2024

sweetheart!george x reader (end of high school au)

stress relief - fluffy, in-relationship, part of promptober75 2023

love potion - fluffy, suggested smut, part of valentine's week 2024

george x reader

dancing like she way out - smutty

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toomuchracket · 11 months

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all those dreams where you're my wife (birthday party!matty x reader)

(hi! a fic inspired by the ending of my most recent blurb for this universe. probably a bit shit, i won't lie, but i thought it was kinda cute. i'm sure you can guess what it entails... enjoy! <3)

it's one of those mornings when you maintain that your boyfriend could have titled his second album based on himself.

you watch matty from the doorway of the master bedroom, his grey-streaked curls splayed across the same bright white pillows his handsome face is half-smushed into. the duvet covers have bunched around his waist, giving you a perfect view of his muscular arms and un-tattooed back, decorated with little crescent moon indents courtesy of your fingernails. suddenly, he moves, and your view changes; you can now clearly see matty's face, softened by slumber, pretty lips open ever so slightly and long dark eyelashes resting almost against his cheekbone. a gentle wave of love washes over you as you watch him sleep, wondering if he's dreaming about you in the same romantic ways you dream about him (he definitely is). he looks so content that you almost don't want to wake him, but the breakfast tray in your arms is growing heavy, so you must.

setting it down gently on the table at matty's side of the bed and perching on the edge of the bed, you lift the little bunch of flowers from the tray in one hand, and softly caress matty's cheek and jaw with the other. "matty, baby, it's time to wake up, c'mon."

languidly, matty presses his face further into your hand, twisting his head to kiss it, before blinking his eyes open. once he's shuffled to sit up against the headboard and adjusted to the sunshine-brightness of the room, he smiles lovingly at you, taking in your (his) mazzy star t-shirt and the flowers you're holding; when he registers the latter, some deeper emotion seems to settle itself in matty's dark eyes, but you can't quite explain what it is. you don't dwell on it - instead, you lean down to kiss your boyfriend's forehead and lay the flowers gently on his bare chest. "bonjour, mon amour. as-tu bien dormi?"

"ok, i understood the first bit," matty replies, his voice gravelly from sleep (quite sexy, if you do say so yourself). "and bonjour to you too, mon petit chou."

"you know you just called me your little cabbage, right?"

"i was trying to call you 'sweetheart'," matty groans, trying to hide his whole face in your palm, presumably to escape mortification. "how do you say that again?"

"chouchou. two of them. you were close! try again, babe."

"nope, my seduction attempt's ruined now," comes the characteristically overdramatic reply, muffled by your hand. "i fucked up my big sexy french-speaking moment, and now you're going to run off with timothee chalamet so he can seduce you with it instead, fucksake."

you snort. "me run off with him? are you sure you're not talking about yourself?"

"i'm not the one who spent a whole afternoon watching videos of him speaking french in interviews non-stop after we watched dune, am i?"

"and i'm not the one who admitted to an interviewer that they had 'interesting feelings' and had a crush on him after call me by your name, am i?"

"but you did, though, didn't you? i bet you did. he's your type, defini-"

"enough about him," you interject, moving your hand over your boyfriend's mouth to prevent hearing his analysis of your type in men, which would inevitably lead to a narcissistic tangent considering matty's, well, the blueprint for it. "do you like the flowers? i picked them for you earlier."

matty looks down at the bouquet of tulips and daisies resting on his chest, eyes softening. "they're beautiful, sweetheart, thank you. what's the occasion?"

he knows full well what the occasion taking place today is, but there's no way that you do.

"just thanking you for bringing me here. and coming to paris with me," you shrug. your head dips bashfully, and matty's heart soars in response; he loves you unconditionally all the time, he really does, but there's just something about seeing you all shy and sweet and blushy that makes his knees weaken. if he was to stand up right now, he knows his legs would simply crumple, and that certainty grows tenfold when you meet his gaze and grin. "wouldn't have gone on this trip without you - everything i wrote in that novel was either for or about you, even before i knew it. so... yeah, they're flowers of gratitude. and love, obvs."

"i love you too," matty smiles, placing the flowers to one side and pulling you into his chest in replacement. "and i'm so - god, i don't even know what to say about being the subject of your writing - honoured? yeah, honoured. this has been the best two weeks of my life, honestly, being here with you."

"i know i said it in paris," you snuggle further into matty, and he kisses your hair. "but i really, really don't want to go home."

"neither do i, sweetheart, but we need to at some point, yeah? mayhem'll be missing us."

"oh, my baby," you sigh wistfully. matty's glad your face is tucked into his chest right now, so you can't see him beaming like an idiot about how much you love his dog. not that you don't know how down bad matty is for you already, but he reckons he should probably try to keep his cool a bit, stay focused, for today of all days. "alright, we can go home. for him only."

matty presses a kiss to your temple, tracing little swirls into your arm. "exactly, babe. we do still have one more night here to focus on, too."

a fucking huge night.

"and on that note, we should probably think about starting to get ready," you peel yourself off your boyfriend - with great reluctance - and stretch, before crawling towards the bottom of the bed (matty makes no attempt to hide his ogling of your bum, mostly bare with the exception of a tiny black thong he's mentally patting himself on the back for buying you) and standing. "will you join me in the shower after you've had your coffee? want you to wash my hair, please."

"of course. will you do mine in return?"

"duh!" you blow matty a kiss. "see you in a bit, lover."

he pretends to catch the kiss and presses it to his heart, which coaxes a giggle and a wink from you before you disappear into the bathroom. holding his quickly-cooling coffee in one hand, periodically taking sips, matty reaches down under his side of the bed to rifle in his carry-on bag, categorising items by texture and bypassing them until he finds the little velvet cube he's looking for.

after downing his cappuccino and setting down the mug, matty does nothing but sit and look at this box for a moment, marvelling at how something so small can hold something significant of one of, if not the biggest commitment he and you could make to each other. but despite the gravitas of the situation, he doesn't feel nervous. here, now, listening to you sing like a virgin as you potter about the ensuite and hissing and swearing at the freezing water temperature when you turn the shower on, there is nothing but love and hope and certainty in his mind; matty wants to marry you, simple as that, and tonight is the perfect night to ask you to do so.

this certainty doesn't diminish at all, either - if anything, matty's decision to propose is only affirmed throughout the day, through everything you do that reminds him how much he loves you. like the way you wordlessly and gently wash his hair for him; your habit of pre-empting what he needs at any given moment simply because you know him so well; the myriad of kisses and compliments and hugs and soft touches you gift him with. the way it takes you twenty minutes to tell a joke because the thought of it made you laugh too hard to talk; how you look at and listen to him intently when he speaks; your incredible insight and way with words turning the most mundane things into the most beautiful, in matty's eyes. speaking of beauty: the way you look right now, sitting opposite him in your new dress; the smile you gave him when he told you in complete earnestness that "you are the most gorgeous person in the known universe. and the unknown, too"; the way your eyes lit up earlier when you recognised the name of the vineyard you're currently sat in, the same name as on the bottles of the wine that you and matty bonded over all those years ago, the same wine that led to you confessing your feelings for each other, and the same wine that you've shared together to celebrate every occasion since then.

the ring has been burning a hole in the front pocket of matty's trousers for hours, desperate to be presented to you and slid onto your recently-manicured (he checked when your nail appointment was before he planned the holiday and proposal, obviously) finger. matty did almost get down on one knee while you were touring the grounds a few hours ago, walking between the rows of grapes, and you made him laugh by unexpectedly calling an obnoxious american man in the same group a "fucking wankstain" under your breath; as soon as he began to shuffle his foot back in kneeling preparation, though, he stopped himself. too eager, healy, she deserves more romance than this.

he could do it right now, and it would work. it's certainly romantic enough - the two of you sat at an outdoor table, illuminated only by moonlight and candlelight respectively, soundtracked by quiet, soft classical piano music, a vintage edition of the wine you love so much being shared between you. it would work, yeah, but it's still not totally right. matty's undeterred, though; he's not sure what's convincing him of this, other than the vague sense of anticipation crackling in the night air, but he knows the perfect moment is nearby. and neither of you are in a rush - the wine is only half-drunk, and another bottle will make its way to the table once that one is gone.

so he'll wait. impatiently, yeah, but he'll do it. the perfect moment will come along, and matty will ask you to be his wife.

you, his wife. perfect, talented, lovely you, currently interrupting his "waiting" reverie by tapping a platform sandaled-foot against his leg and smiling sweetly. "what's going on in that pretty head of yours, hmm?"

"just thinking about you. well, us." not a lie.

you smile shyly, taking a sip of your wine before leaning back in the chair and resting your glass lightly against your chest. reflected candlelight warms your slightly sleepy eyes, locked intently on matty's own. "what about us are you thinking about?"

"everything. us in the future, us now, us in the past." matty pauses for dramatic effect, knowing exactly how you'll react to his next words. "how good an idea i had when i decided to kiss you at that birthday party."

your reaction is just as matty expected - you raise your eyebrows coolly, pointing your index finger at him in warning. "christ, not this again. you know full well it was me who instigated that."

matty laughs. "nope, as i recall, it was all me; you did nothing that night except try to give yourself a nicotine addiction." his face softens before he speaks again, voice quietening to match. "and as much as i think you're insane for constantly trying to take up smoking, i am so glad you walked outside to bother me for a cig that night. i mean, look at where it led us."

putting your wine down, you gaze at matty so lovingly he thinks he might swoon - this is not helped by your next move, leaning across the table to press your lips to his in a gentle but lingering kiss. after you break apart and matty wrestles back control of his brain from you, he takes both of your hands in his own, rubbing his calloused thumbs across your knuckles and the permanent ink stains on the side of your index finger. "you warm enough, darlin'? hands feel a bit cold."

"a little bit, but the wine's helping," you shrug. "i'll be alright, babe."

the goosebumps spreading up your bare arms in the cool breeze suggest otherwise to matty - he quickly rids himself of his suit jacket, standing to settle it on your shoulders. "there we go."

"matty, i'm al-"

"don't be a martyr, baby, please," matty smiles softly at you as he returns to his seat. he gestures to his dress shirt-clad chest. "see? long sleeves. you need the jacket more than i do."

you sigh, then look sheepish. "yeah, that is better, thank you. i'm also gonna... just to try and warm my neck a bit."

sliding an arm out from under his jacket, matty watches as you take the tortoiseshell claw clip from your hair, shaking the wavy tresses out and leaving them to settle around your beautiful face. then, you take a lazy sip of your wine, before setting the glass down and beaming at him, the picture of comfort and contentment. and something in matty's brain just clicks.

of course. of course it would be you who gave matty the perspective he needed - you do it every day, after all. that simple action of taking your hairclip out, one you must do constantly without thinking too much, if anything, about, and the obvious relaxation that followed... that was the key. the perfect moment has been unlocked.

now is the time for matty to ask you to marry him.

it's as if the crackling anticipation in the air has culminated in a lightning strike, like in back to the future - the right energy is coursing through the atmosphere, and matty knows he has to pull a marty mcfly and seize this moment to change the course of his life for the better, before it slips away.

so, in a quick movement sequence punctuated by awestruck gasps from you, matty practically jumps out of his chair and moves to stand beside yours, pulling the ring box out of his pocket and kneeling; only once he's slowly lifted the lid - ironically at about the same speed the DeLorean doors open - does matty look up at you, tears beginning to pool along his lower lashline already. "so, i think you'll have an idea of what i'm doing down here-"

you giggle, sniffling a bit yourself, and nod.

"-but i have a whole speech prepared, and i'd like you to hear it. ok?" another nod from you, which makes matty smile. "right. here goes - fuck, you're so cute."

not how matty had envisioned his proposal to you beginning, but the way you look right now - eyes wet but sparkling, starlight on sea, cheeks lifting in an elated smile despite the way you've pressed your lips together to keep from exclaiming - is too adorable to go unaddressed.

"ok," matty laughs, then shakes his head and inhales deeply. "i know i'm prone to being dramatic, and exaggerating, but when i say that the seven years i've known you have been the best seven years of my life, i'm doing neither. it's the truth, darlin' - especially these last two years, where i've had the privilege to officially love you and be yours, although i've unofficially been doing those things a lot longer. how could i help that, though? you're so beautiful it breaks my heart, but so kind that it heals immediately, and you're unflinchingly loyal to the people you care about, even when they don't make it easy for you." he pauses, briefly, to bite back the sob building in the back of his throat. "you saw me at my absolute worst and you still stuck around. which i am so grateful for, because i really do think you bring out the best in me. and also in the world in general; i am so envious of the way you can turn the most quotidian things into the most stunning, through your perspective and your unparalleled talent with words. to be given insight into your thoughts every day is the second greatest gift in my life, only beaten by the mind-boggling fact that you, for whatever reason, love me. if you'll allow me to be a little bit self-indulgent, i would love to keep both receiving those gifts and being granted the privilege to love you and be yours for the rest of our lives, officially, and also to spend that same amount of time doing whatever i can to make you happy. i love you, sweetheart, so much. will you marry me?"

you're nodding furiously and beginning an ecstatically teary monologue before he's even finished the question. "yes, yes, an infinite number of times, yes. i love you. i can't wait to be your wife. wife! jesus christ. i'm gonna marry you. oh my god. this is insane. i love you so much. thank you."

after your monologue ends, matty stands and gently takes your left hand, bringing it to his lips before sliding the delicate ring onto its designated finger. you both take a moment to admire it, gemstone sparkling almost as much as your eyes in the romantic lighting, before your eyes lock. matty beams at you. "s'perfect."

"it really is," you say, wiggling your hand in different directions before bringing it up to rest on your fiance's (!!!) face. "and so was that speech. you're incredible, healy. i can't wait to share that last name, and forever, with you."

with that, you pull matty's lips onto yours. the kiss is a little bit damp and salty, because of your shared tears, but it's the best kiss you two have ever had. the red wine lingering on your lips makes it seem like the first all over again, to matty. with a jolt, he realises that it kind of is - your first kiss as a couple betrothed.

as the kiss deepens, you pull matty impossibly closer to you, arching your back against the table - at the sound of a loud thud against it, though, you break apart to see your wine glass on its side, the burgundy contents spreading out over the table. you swear, rifling through your handbag for tissues to clean up the spillage; your fiance, in contrast, continues to hold your waist as he laughs at your clumsiness. "maybe we shouldn't have red wine at our wedding. seems like a dangerous game, what with you in white and all, yeah?"

you faux-glare at matty, before giggling and abandoning the spillage. "yeah," you smile, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "we should probably just stick to champagne."

"well, there's our next holiday destination sorted. champagne region. you up for that?"

"honestly," you begin, kissing all over matty's stubbly face before ending with a peck on his lips. "i'd go anywhere with you, my husband-to-be. i love you."

"i love you too, my future wife."

#into the birthday partyverse #mads does writing #mads muses #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff

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