#matty healy fanfic
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anatomy – matty healy
matty is supposed to tutor you in biology, but there’s another subject you’re much more interested in…
or tutor!au <3
tags: 18+, oral sex, unprotected sex, dry humping, dom/sub undertones, choking, cumplay, virgin!matty, freaky little loser guy
6802 words
You sit on top of the sheets of your bed, ankles crossed. You pop your bubblegum, flipping boredly through your Cosmo. Lipsticks, perfectly preened women, and the top ten sex tips flip in front of your eyes. You halt at the horoscope, indulgently checking yours. You’re not superstitious: it’s just that anything is better than this godforsaken lesson.
“And, you see, the specific shape of the active site of an enzyme enables it to function,” Matty drawls on, unfaltered by your clear disinterest. Maybe he doesn’t see; his nose is pulled tightly in his book. “It’s— It’s really a simple understanding of 'lock and key'. You can think of enzyme activity as molecular collisions resulting in the formation of enzyme-substrate complexes.” All the terms blur together in your mind. In one ear, transformed and decorated by the pretty pink things on your page, then out the other.
You almost feel bad for Matty, pushed into your room by your parents with pleading, desperate eyes to make you learn something. He sits at your desk while you distract yourself with whatever is more interesting which, as it so happens, is almost everything. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t say much to you other than hey and a string of jargon you don’t care to understand. It’s not like your bitchy, unimpressed stare is very welcoming.
Matty has this nervous, twitchy energy about him. He stutters through half of his sentences, pushing his glasses up his nose, searching for the fixed point in his book he lost. He swallows thickly, starts again. An awkward, limby thing.
Really, it’s a shame he wears all those nerdy shirts and drowning clothes, as well as those horrendous thick, square glasses. If you assess him objectively enough, he could be quite pretty. He’s lean, with a cutting jaw, and adorable curly hair. Girls would look away a flutter of red flags if it meant birthing kids with those traits.
You sigh, pushing the Cosmo off your bed, rolling to your belly. You rest your chin on your crossed arms, eyeing Matty. He gives you a look at the shifting noise, rounding his eyes as they fall on the stripe of skin your loose lounging shorts have revealed in the crossfire. It’s barely a few centimeters of your asscheeks, but Matty blushes all the same, flipping back to his book as though burned. You smirk. Interesting.
“Matty,” you trail lightly, the cadence of a song.
You found your bright new, shining distraction. Your smile is vicious and dangerous, ready to bite, to gnaw to the bone.
Matty looks up at you, incertain. You rarely address him during your tutoring lessons. You’re not even sure you’ve said his name before, at least not to him. “I’m bored with biology,” you declare, artfully pouty and dejected.
“Oh,” he says. He swallows thickly. Flips through his book. His nervous tics make him all the more tantalizing to you. Some cruel need to toughen him up. “Um—”
You lick your teeth, grinning. “I want to study anatomy.”
Matty laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That’s not in the syllabus.” There’s something about his total misunderstanding of your line that makes the need frizzle inside of you. An innocent little thing, to pick and devour through.
You sit up, resting your weight on your heels. Your knees part suggestively, the loose shorts riding up your thighs. Your crop top sits up your ribs. Belly button piercing winks at him. Matty takes in the sight, face pale. You grin, victorious.
“I didn’t mean that anatomy,” you say, teasing. You rest a hand loosely on your leg, purposefully dragging his stare down to it. Your pink nails flash against your skin.
“Oh.” He swallows thickly, hypnotized by the soft flesh of your thighs. “I—” He shakes his head, as if to draw himself out of the daydream. “I, um—” He repeats, then laughs, “What?”
You sigh, kneeling up and getting off the bed. Your bare feet wiggle in the fuzzy, pink carpet. You prowl to him, predator-like. His breath hitches in his throat, right where you want it.
“Matty,” you sing, and he chokes at the sound. Just his name drives him wild— good to know. You get close enough to lean on the desk, to tower over him. He blinks up at you, robbed of speech. You flutter your eyelashes at him. “Are you a virgin?”
His lips part in surprise, but he doesn’t answer. Not that he needs to; the fucking sight of him is enough to know. It’s about the fun of watching him stumble, stutter, push his little glasses up his nose, telltale signs you revel in.
You sit on the desk, bunching his careful notes. You trail two fingers up his shoulder, that awful cheap plaid. You almost resent the feel of it on your skin, if not for the way he shivers.
You pout mockingly at him, stopping where the collar of his shirt meets the skin of his neck. “Are you gonna answer me?”
“Yeah— yes.” You run your fingertips on his neck, a grazing touch that has him staring up at you in devotion. You smirk.
“Have you ever been touched like this?” You run your thumb to the other side of his neck, a strong path. You want him to feel it, until your hand stretches over his throat, possessive.
He swallows under your palm, Adam’s apple bobbing on your fortune-telling palm lines. “No,” he admits quietly. You feel it resonate more than you hear it.
You hum, silently thrilled. “And have you ever been kissed?” You whisper.
Matty stares up at you. He waits a second, two— takes his time. “No.” You smirk. You pick your gum between two fingers, pressing it into the corner of his notes. Perfect.
It’s a little awkward, of course, because you’re perched on the desk and he’s sitting all the way down on his chair, gripping its arms. But, still, you bend down and kiss him square on the mouth.
He gasps against you, freezing there. You’re undeterred; you kiss and kiss him, smearing your strawberry lipgloss, until he snaps into action and kisses you back. It’s a rhythmless, artless thing.
He doesn’t know how to kiss.
What he lacks in technique, he makes up in eagerness, opening his mouth and licking a wet tongue into yours. You giggle a little, taste the Sour Patch kids he nervously ate from his bag between two scientific words you purposefully didn’t remember. You press at his throat, just so he’s as breathless as you are. He moans against your lips, panting.
Matty doesn’t dare touch. His body is fixed to the desk chair, letting himself be kissed, taking only what you are willing to offer. He sits there like you are breathing life into his mouth, eating and eating and never asking for more. It’s what makes you want to give him more.
You pull away from him, straightening like a queen taking her throne. Under you, the pages wrinkle and ruffle, and he doesn’t even care. His lips are swollen and pink, shiny from the lipgloss. Breaths puff out from there, pulling attention.
“You’re kinda pretty,” you admit lowly, like a secret he should know.
“Thanks,” Matty flushes.
You release his throat, wiping your pink gloss off his lips. They part instinctively. You smile, slipping your thumb inside. He sucks the strawberry, warm tongue on your fingerprint. Power loosens your head.
“Do you want me?” You ask, as though his mouth drooling around your thumb wasn’t indication enough. You want the words; you want the worship.
“Yeth,” he says, choking on your finger. You smile, taking it out and drying it on his cheek.
You don’t make a big show of taking your shirt off. Your hands are at the hem of your baby tee, then it’s off your shoulders, thrown on the pink carpet. Matty whines, surprised and overwhelmed, throwing a furtive glance at the cracked door of your bedroom.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand. Soft and weak; he hasn’t worked a day in his life. It’s slack between your fingers. He lets you puppeteer it to your breasts, lets you grope yourself with him as an instrument.
He makes another small noise from the back of his throat, staring at the fucking sight like he can’t quite believe it truly is his own hand. “God,” he mutters to himself, and it’s exactly how you feel.
“Say thank you,” you taunt him, because you know he will.
Like clockwork, Matty revels, “Thank you.” Growing bold, he rubs a thumb over your hard nipple, a tough callus you didn’t expect on the tip of it. It makes you moan; a crack in your spotless armor, but he doesn’t even notice. Too preoccupied with playing with your tits, pawing at it greedily.
“Can I—” He flushes, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Can I lick them?” A drop of heat strikes through you. You clench your thighs, arching your back into his readied palm.
“Yes.” He leans in before you’ve finished the s, sucking your abandoned nipple into his mouth. He licks and rubs and pinches, raw skill pulling at your sensitive skin. You bite back groans, breathing harshly. Your chest rises and falls into his mouth, but he’s just as diligent.
You rake a long-nailed hand into his hair, scratching his scalp with every particularly delicious lick. He moans at that, vibrating on your sensitive nipples.
He sticks his tongue out, panting like a dog, dipping down to the valley of your tits and pressing a kiss, then climbing up a new breast. He bites gently, and you jump, surprised by his boldness.
“Sorry,” he whispers. You don’t like this little switch-up in power. He’s supposed to be purring for you, enthrallment shining in his eyes. You tug on his hair, making him look at you.
Matty stares up, dutiful. He doesn’t care about the power game; hasn’t even realized you were slipping. He takes what you give.
You soothe away the sting of his hair. “Pretty boy,” you coo. Matty beams at that. “I want to hear you scream.”
With this, you jump off the desk, and kneel under it.
“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide as he watches you fumble with his pants. You unbutton and unzip, fast and knowledgeable, dipping into his boxers— “Wait.”
You look up at him, inches from your goal. You cock your head, frowning. “What?”
“Just—” He pants, staring at you. “Just give me a second.”
You hum, grazing a finger on the faint happy trail of his stomach. His belly sucks in. “Are you nervous?”
“No,” he says. “Yes. I don’t know.” He laughs. His hands still grip the armrests, white-knuckled. “Why are you doing this?”
You shrug. “I want to.” You tip your head, kissing his soft hand. “Do you want me to?”
“Well, yeah.”
You grin. “Relax.” Finally, your hand slips under his underwear, and you wrap around his hard length. He gasps, cold fingers against hot skin, fingers against him.
His hips jump into your fist as you draw him out. Another nervous glance to the door, still half-opened. Your parents are somewhere in the house, pretending not to exist. You lick your lips.
You lightly scratch your pink nails against him. You run a thumb on his tip, smearing precum. He hisses, turning into a moan as you slowly drag your hand down. He’s frozen and tense, almost afraid of moving, as if that would make you go away.
“Teach me,” you say.
He blinks at you, dazed. “Huh?”
Your eyes vaguely look up to the desk you hide under, biology notes in his scratchy writing laying wrinkled. “Biology. My parents are paying you for a reason, aren’t they?”
“Oh—” He flushes, embarrassed. Pushes his glasses up. “Right, right.” His hands let go of the armrests, searching through the pages. You choose this moment to kiss the tip of his cock. He whimpers, shutting his eyes in pleasure. “Fuck.” You giggle, all too happy.
He struggles to find where you disturbed him, biting his lip in comical concentration. You tease him, enjoying all the little breaths he chokes on, the soft sounds he tries to hide. Your hand pumps up and down, twisting at the wrist.
You wonder how often he’s done this on himself, who he imagined between his legs.
From now, it’ll be you. You’ll make sure of it.
“Um, right, so,” Matty starts, out of breath. “In some reactions,” he continues arduously, “one substrate is broken down into multiple products. And—” Devilishly, you lick a stripe up his length. He groans, twitching on your tongue. “Shit,” he mutters. It’s funny coming from him; the swear rings wrong, like a costume.
He drags his stare down, pulling away from his notes to watch you. You indulge him, parting your lips and wrapping them around his tip. You suck on it gently. His face wrinkles, a moan breaking from him. You pull your head down, swallowing him. He clutches at his papers, scrunching them himself.
“Oh, God,” Matty says, trying to catch his breath as you bob your head. “I’m— Shit.”
You let go of him with a wet pop, stroking him quickly. “Shh,” you tease him. “My parents.” Again, he throws a nervous look towards the door.
Saliva and lipgloss and precum already lube him, but you keep your hand at his base as you spit on his cock. You drag it down his length. Matty’s eyes snap towards you. “Do that again.” He wants to see you.
You smirk, tilting your head to leave wet kisses up his cock, then lick his tip. You spit on it, and a low groan resonates from him. His hips rise up into your hand, but you push them down with your claws.
“Fuck,” he whimpers from the back of his throat, melting on the chair. He likes it messy. You grin, peppering little kisses over his cock, smearing him in strawberry lipgloss.
“What’s the other thing?”
“Huh?” He blinks, tying himself back to reality. “Right, um, substrates. It’s—” Again, you choose this moment to push him down your throat. He loses speech, mumbling incoherent syllables, some broken version of your name.
Though your head bobs quickly, pulling further and further down his length, twisting a stroking hand all the same, you pinch your nails at his hip. He jumps, struck out of the daze of pleasure, blinking down at you.
“Yeah, it’s— The other reactions are—” You let go of his hip, pinching your own nipple instead. Matty whines, losing his train of thought. “You’re not being fair.”
You laugh, spitting him out to catch your breath. You grope yourself and he watches, not sure which hand to focus on. His cheeks are tinted red, maybe from effort, or adrenaline, or shyness. It’s cute enough to bite.
Wonder shines in his eyes. He can’t believe this is happening; he’s eternally grateful, as he should be. As they all should have been, those faceless men you’ve blown in the bathrooms of parties for attention and a momentary stop to complete boredom. They stayed quiet, almost afraid to make noise, to show they enjoyed it, until they shook and spilled inside your mouth. Matty’s not afraid to moan.
Your brain rushes, sticky happy. You pant on his cock, trailing a finger down your stomach, then dipping in your shorts. Matty’s eyes widen, straightening to catch a glimpse. You smile, catching a pool of your arousal.
You come back up, fingers sticky and wet with your slick, and smear it on his cock. Matty scrunches his face, whimpering, shaking under your hands.
“You’re trying to kill me.”
“Only because it’s easy,” you mock, jerking and twisting your two hands in rhythm, wet sounds ringing in the room.
You free his cock, gripping the armrests of the chair instead. You wrap your mouth around it, and bend down until your nose touches the faint smatterings of dark hair on his belly. You gag on him, and he strangles the edge of the desk trying to kill his moans.
You pump him in your mouth quickly, feeling him twitch and rise to meet you. He remembers himself, falling down on the chair dutifully, not even burying a needy hand in your hair, as though afraid that would be asking for too much.
You drag up, making him hit the inside of your cheek, before releasing him. You spit the precum on him, blinking up through teary eyes. He doesn’t have any words, red swollen lip bitten raw.
“I taste great,” you say, and then offer up your still-wet fingers to him. He’s eager, sucking them into his mouth. He bobs, imitating you, and the sight and feel makes hot desire drip inside of you.
You want to squeeze him until he pops.
You take his hand, pulling it into your hair. He grips instinctively, pushing it out of your face. “Don’t push,” you warn, serious. He nods frantically, and you trust him to mean it.
You take him into your mouth for what you know is the final time. You’re certain he won’t last long, droopy and moaning and twitching, hissing every time your tongue runs on him. You bob with skill and precision still. He tugs at your hair, both hands in now, trembling in the mess of it. He never pushes, or fucks his hips up; trusts you to undo him yourself.
He swears and curses and whimpers, head falling down and back, vacillating between the sky and your red, puffy face. The sink is heard from faraway, but you don’t think he can even hear it.
“I'm dreaming,” he whispers to himself, sounding wild. “I’m gonna wake up. I’m gonna be— I’m gonna—” Matty cries, slapping a hand over his mouth, and comes down your throat. He shakes, loud moans hidden in his palm, eyes shut and forehead wrinkled.
He lets go of your hair with a fucked-out sigh, panting. His eyes never leave you, disbelief written all over it. You pull him out of your throat, and smile at him.
You’re about to swallow when he touches your arm, unsure of where he’s allowed to now. “Wait, can you—” He grows embarrassed, blushing. “Can you open your mouth?”
You part your lips, showing off his white cum still sitting on your tongue. He whimpers at the sight, fingers digging into your arm. His breathing turns irregular, cheeks reddening, eyes darkening. He’s so strange.
Still, you stick your tongue out, putting his load in evidence, making a spectacle of it. He looks tortured, enthralled.
You stay long enough that you feel it run down, long white rope hanging from your tongue, then dropping on your breast.
“Fuck,” Matty whispers to himself. Seemingly without thinking, he runs his thumb on your breast, catching his cum and sucking it between his lips.
You smile, slurping the cum back into your mouth, and swallowing it. You flash your red tongue at him. “All clean.”
“Thank you,” Matty says. “I— I’m not sure why you did that, but— I, you know, appreciate it.” He’s so polite. You’d laugh if he wouldn’t snap back into that little head box of his.
“I’m very thankful for all those lessons,” you wink.
“No, you’re not.”
“No, I’m not.” Matty’s finger rubs the skin of your arm, that strangely tough callus, and it has you leaning into his touch. “Though, this has been my favorite lesson.”
“God, I couldn’t even get a word out.”
“Hence why.”
Matty snorts and he offers you a hand. You grab it to manœuvre out from under the desk. You push your sweaty hair out of your face, then wipe the leftover stickiness from your breasts.
Matty, of course, follows the movement to your tits. He swallows. “Do you, um,” he pushes his glasses up. “Do you want, like, something back?”
You arch an eyebrow, incapable of holding a small giggle this time. “Do you know how?”
He stares into your eyes. “I could try.”
And, again, there’s just something about his eagerness, his willingness, his open devotion, that has you saying, “Yeah, I guess you could try.”
You tiptoe to your bedroom door, looking left and right into the hallway, before quietly shutting it. You turn around to a displeased Matty. “Oh, so you get to have it closed?”
“‘S more fun when you’re struggling,” you shrug, devilish. You run to the bed, falling on the pillows, fluttering your eyelashes at him. “Come here, pretty boy.” He practically trips out of his chair to find you. He’s three steps in when you stop him. “Take your clothes off.”
He grows shy under your gaze. Staying in place, fingers shaking, he starts to unbutton his plaid shirt. He kicks off his sneakers and his baggy jeans until he stands there in his boxers. He’s as scrawny as you imagined him to be. You smile.
Matty crosses his arms. “Can I see you, too?” He whispers.
You shimmy your shorts off your legs and throw it beyond the bed. Matty’s stare stutters on your pink thong, wet patch where your desire pooled.
You draw a hand towards him and he takes it, falling over you on the bed. He doesn’t waste time, giving you a sloppy kiss before mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, your tits. He laps at them first and you wonder if he’s trying to get the last lingering taste of his cum. He catches a nipple next and sucks it.
Gaspy moans leave your lips. You part your legs instinctively and he buries between them, already hardening. His cock hits your thigh and he sucks and pinches and plays until you start thinking he might really be able to try.
Your hands descend down his back, freckled under your nails. You grip his small waist, pushing at his hip, the hem of his boxers. Matty understands, leaving you long enough to kick them off. He pants in front of you, leaning back already, wet, swollen mouth parted.
Matty lays over you again and his hard cock presses into your need. You scratch your nails up his back and he jerks, bucking into you. A moan leaves both your mouths. He tries again, artless, just off your clit.
“Oh,” he whispers, mostly to himself. He does it again, building and building heat inside of you, yet never relieving.
You huff. You sneak a hand between your bodies, moving your thong aside until he slips under it.
Another boy would have taken the opportunity, would have buried inside before you even had time to nod, but Matty doesn’t even think of it.
He humps your wet cunt, tucked tight under your underwear, hem pressing his length. Matty moans every time, quickening, desperate. He tilts his hand to better see as his cock bulges the cloth, a wet patch forming where his precum stains.
“Fuck.”
And it’s better; he’s faster, and firmer, and mostly there. He follows your little puffs of shameful breaths, staying where they transform into slack moans. Pleasure starts waking up inside your belly, sickly warm.
But you’ve had boys hump at you before, had them bucking between your legs. You know it’s not what will get you off. You need your mind stimulated, to be so thoroughly hot and desperate you finally let yourself go.
You pinch the nape of his neck, making him look at you. A slack, messy smirk lays on your lips. You tease, “Have you ever thought of me during our tutoring sessions?”
Matty’s hips stutter. He looks away. “Like…”
“Yeah, like, on my knees.”
Matty blushes. “Well, yeah.”
You grin, too pleased. A deadly smile, hunting. “When?”
“I don’t know…” He mutters. You scowl to yourself, and maybe he senses that, because his chin grazes your shoulder and he admits shamefully, “When you ate that popsicle. And you licked and you slurped and you sucked and, just— I’m a guy. I had visions.”
“I had visions.” You imitate, mocking. You tsk, “You're such a nerd.” You roll your hips back against him and a whimper buries in the skin of your shoulder. “Was it how you imagined?”
“Better.” He nods fervently. “So much fucking better. I actually died, I think. Still unsure whether I’m dead or not.” Pride and power makes your head loose, makes pleasure ripple through your flesh.
You claw at his skin, warning dangerously, “Tell anyone and you will be.” All it does is make him moan, bucking faster against you. Your toes curl. You breathe in his ear, “Tell me more.”
“I, uh— Shit.” The tip of his cock burrows in your underwear as he slides, wet and slick from you. He shivers over you. “I’d think about— bending you over the desk.”
Your smile ghosts your face, grazing his soft, fresh cheek. “Really?”
“Just, you know, when you wouldn’t listen. And you’d pop that chewing gum, and you’d ignore me, and you’d be mean.”
You smirk, clicking your tongue. “So you wanted to, what, toughen me up? Take your revenge?”
His cheeks redden. “No.” His lips brush your shoulders, and he kisses, opposite. “I don’t know. I wanted you to pay attention.” He licks your neck. “I wanted to make you scream.” Mouths at your jaw. “I wanted to fuck you. Or for you to fuck me— I wanted you.”
You can’t believe you’re now the one blushing. You pant, glad he’s buried in your throat, that he can’t see. A moan slips from you as he nips gently at your skin. Your eyes roll in your skull.
“You like when I’m mean to you?” You tease meanly, out of breath. You scratch his back, burying your hand in his hair, and tugging until he looks you in the eyes. “Gets you all bothered?”
Matty shivers, whining, “Fuck, please—”
You push him onto his back, rolling over. Two hands press into his chest, and you might very well concave his ribcage. You stare him down, divine. “You wanted me to fuck you?”
His messy, unbrushed hair falls around his head like a halo. He’s sweet enough to make your head spin. He watches you openly behind the glass of his specs, breathing, “Yes.”
You trail your fingernails on his hard cock, down to his base. “And now?”
Devoting, “Yes.”
A rush of thrill fills you. You kneel up, shimmying your underwear off. Matty gasps at the sight, raking a hungry gaze up and down your body. He holds the sheets of your bed with white-knuckled fingers.
You waste no time, rocking your cunt against his tip once, twice, before slowly lowering yourself on him. You inhale at the stretch. Matty’s eyes shut, whining. “Look at me,” you order, and he listens.
His eyes flash open. He blinks at you as you bottom out. His head rolls, shaking. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” You go to move up, but he holds your hip down. He takes deep breaths. “Can we— Just, this is—”
“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand and placing it over the regular beating of your heart. He thumbs your nipple while he’s there, breathing in sync with your pulse. You slowly roll your hips on him.
Matty moans, gripping the flesh of your thigh. You let him adjust to the feel of it, rocking softly, dragging your clit on his pelvis. You bite your lip raw as pleasure blooms inside of you. Your thighs ache to go faster, harder, but you maintain the delicate pace for him. Just that has him shaking under you, and you once again grip his hand over your heart to ground him.
“Sorry,” he says with an embarrassed laugh. “Fuck,” is immediately added when you circle your hips, his eyes rolling. “Fuck, sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” you order. “What are the other reactions?” You say, attempting to drag him out of his anxiety-filled head. He frowns at you. “Of enzymes.”
His lips part. “I didn’t know you knew that term.”
You roll your eyes, then your hips, euphoria fizzling under your skin. “I listen to you.” His unconvinced look betrays him. “Sometimes.”
“They’re, um— Shit. They come together to create one— fuck, one larger molecule or—” You finally rock faster, angling your hips to have him bury inside you right where you need him. You moan, chest rising and falling quickly. Your legs grow desperate; you chase that sickly pleasure.
“Yeah?” You encourage him on, seeing his own pleasure resonate in his face. He bites his lip, pawing uselessly at your thigh. “Or?” You’re out of breath.
“Or swap pieces,” he finally finishes between two moans. Chuckles, “Actually, pretty much all biological reactions you can think of probably—” Your hips fall harsher on him and he loses his train of thought, overwhelmed. You smile, setting a wild pace, completely unfair.
“Probably what?” You say, teasing, “I’m always thinking about biological reactions.”
“Don’t tease,” he pouts, and you slow down your thrusts just to spite him. He whines, pressing his short fingernails into the skin of your thigh.
“Come on.” You make him look you in the eyes, mocking, “Educate me.”
“They all have enzymes,” Matty finally finishes. You reward him by reaching down and pinching his nipple. He whimpers, cursing your name. “Why have you suddenly decided to be a good student?”
“‘Cause you’re adorable when you’re struggling to find words,” you answer honestly. You hold your weight up on the hand pressed into his chest, angling your hips until your clit rubs and rubs his pelvis. Your eyes roll, fucking him quicker. “Fuck. I love when I can make you all stupid for me.” The power in changing up his DNA composition, making a smart boy incapable of remembering all the jargon you yourself don’t know, is addictive. Undoing him block by block until he’s putty in your hands. Matty just moans, not arguing.
Sweat pearls his forehead. The white sheets make him angelic. He breathes your name, fluttering his eyelashes at you. “Can I try on top?” Maybe it’s because he looks so reverent, so innocent, that you nod.
Matty doesn’t push you and roll you over, instead staying there, as though waiting for it to just magically happen. You giggle to yourself, unmounting him and falling back on the mattress, legs parted. He swallows thickly, laying over you.
His glasses fall down his nose and you laugh, grabbing them and carefully placing them on your nightstand. He blinks, adjusting to the blurry sight.
His hand shakes as he grabs himself and lines up. He misses once, twice, until you rest a soothing hand on his and guide him. Matty moans in your hair as he slides in. He stays in your wet heat for a second, catching his breath, before he thrusts.
And it’s bad, of course. He doesn’t have any rhythm, bucking blindly inside of you. It’s a strange pace, irregular and powerless. He certainly can’t find any type of mindnumbing spot. Pleasure simmers lowly in your belly, heat turned off almost to nothing if it weren’t for the pretty moans that bury straight in your ear.
You grab his hip, making Matty look at you. “Start slow,” you instruct, guiding him. He follows the movements of your hand, rocking back and forth, slow but regular. “There,” you nod, arching your back. “Just, tilt—” He repositions himself, eager to learn, and you shudder. You call his name, syrupy with moans.
He’s a fast learner, following diligently the guidings of your gripping hand. He fucks into you slowly, but surely. Your toes curl. Pleasure wakes up again, coiling in your belly. “Like this?” He breathes. You nod, encouraging him on.
“It’s like I’m tutoring you,” you remark, chuckling to yourself. Matty snorts. “I like being the smart one for once.”
Matty frowns. “You’re always smart.” He says it without thinking, because he means it. Something wet chokes your throat, tugs at your lips. “You just don’t listen.”
“Would you like me to?” You say, tone taunting. A self-destroying instinct, telling you to hurt, to ruin. “Make me your little pet? Be all obedient? Have me sucking your cock while you tell me all about biology?”
His eyebrows furrow. “Do you want me to do that?” All your bullets don’t land. He’s unconcerned on what he wants. You huff.
Instead of reckoning, you order, “Faster, now.” Matty nods against your cheek. He obeys, thrusting quicker. You let go of his hip, climbing up his back just to rake your nails down it. His hips snap faster, harsher, endeavored. You grin, licking his jaw, kissing the bone.
“Fuck,” he whimpers, catching your lips and kissing you. You wrap your arms around his neck, trapping him there as he ruts between your legs. You swallow all the sounds he makes, kill the swears you think of saying. Euphoria washes you.
He leaves your lips just to smack wet kisses over your face, again and again. On your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids, your chin. He mouths down your throat, starts sucking and nipping at the side. You bury a hand into his hair, pushing him further down. “Not the neck,” you explain, breathy.
Matty finds the side of your tits and he buries there, sucking at your skin. You arch into his mouth, pleasure rushing up your side at the pinpricks of pain. He moans against you, bucking faster. Your mind spins and spins. “Matty.” Again, he speeds up, harsh and wild. “Fucking hell, Matty.”
You tug at his hair and he releases you, lips wet and swollen. He pants over you, eyes dazed with pleasure. A new wave of heat strikes you just from the sight of him, unmade and wild. You sneak a hand between your bodies. You find your clit easily, rubbing.
Matty’s head drops to watch you. He whines, seeing where he disappears inside of you, over and over, where your pink nails swipe at you.
He leans his weight on one arm, joining his own hand with yours. You’re surprised at the act, at the willingness of involving himself in the complicated business of your pleasure. Your fingers stop, resting up on your stomach.
He paws blindly at your cunt, just a little off where you need him. You grip his wrist, angling him at the right place, gently circling and swiping with his finger. The callus presses on your clit and it’s a delicious sensation. You roll your eyes, crying out, then slapping your palm over your mouth. Matty grins proudly, continuing to rub at you.
“This is good, right?” He whispers, pretty eyes all vulnerable on you.
You nod frantically. “Yes. It’s good.” You melt on the sheets, parting your legs further. “It’s really good.” His cheeks flush at the compliment. You wrap your hand around his throat, resting there with silent ownership. “Did you ever think it’d be me?”
Matty chokes on a laugh and a moan. “No. I never thought you’d ever even give me a look.”
You hum, pleased with the answer. He realizes it’s a privilege. You grin, pressing your fingers on the sides of his neck. His hips stutter, then snap even faster, a broken cry leaving him. His lips part in quiet ecstasy. His eyes shut, rapid movement behind his eyelids.
You grin at him. “Say thank you, pretty boy.”
You release him, at least giving him a chance. He falls into your shoulder, taking deep inhales, shaking. “Thank you,” he says, mumbly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You rake through his hair, soothing. “Aw, fuck, I’m gonna—” He twitches inside of you.
“Not inside!” You shout. Matty gasps, thrusting out of you. He cries as he comes on your navel and cunt. He catches his breath, blinking himself back to this reality, still shaking.
“Sorry,” he says, shortwinded. A pang of disappointment hits you. It’s not like you’ve ever come with someone else before, but it had felt really close this time.
At least Matty tried.
Matty watches his cum painted over your skin, catching your piercing, mixing with the slick of your cunt. He moans to himself, then bends down between your thighs.
You rest on your elbows, frowning. “What—” He licks a stripe over your cunt, tasting both your juices. Euphoria strikes through you. Your back hits the mattress as you fall back, legs shaking. “Matty.” He hums, faraway, licking and licking to clean you all up. You bury a hand in his hair, grounding him in place.
He finds your clit, rubbing it with the tip of his tongue, circling then sucking it. You jolt on the bed, biting back a scream. You frown to yourself, tugging on his hair, fire boiling inside your stomach. What the fuck.
He laps at you, moaning every time your nails scratch his scalp, the sound vibrating against you. A hand wraps around your thigh, keeping you open for him. He devours you eagerly, hungrily, until you’re a mess melting into his mouth.
“God, Matty,” you cry. You have to actually hold back another one with a slap of your hand, shocked at yourself as you scream into your palm.
Matty stops, breathing harshly, and you throw a glance down in question. He climbs up your stomach, lapping at your skin, cleaning the last of his cum. You whimper at the dirty sight, desire drumming down your limbs.
He throws you a hot look. Tongue out, full of white cum. He goes back between your legs and buries it in your cunt, fucking it in. You jump, cursing to the ceiling. Matty laughs, greedily tasting you.
You roll your hips into his face, hitting the tip of his nose on your clit. Every strike has ecstasy resonating in your bones. You feel light on your bones.
His lips wrap around your clit. He sucks, grazing a tongue, swiping and circling like you showed him. You recognize the same pattern, recognize the rhythm. Of course he’s a fast learner.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, choked by your hand. You raise your hips into his mouth, silently begging. Your legs shake, desperate. Pressure pushes at your belly. Your eyes roll. “Don’t stop.”
He mumbles something in your cunt, probably a promise or a praise, dutifully not stopping. He laps and eats and fucks until your brain melts into your skull, dripping down your spine.
“Oh, fuck, I’m—” Your head shakes fervently. “Just stay— Shit, Matty, just— I—” The pressure snaps and you come on his readied tongue, screaming. Hot white flashes in your vision. Relief washes you, dipping to every crevices, relaxing you. He moans against your cunt.
Matty continues to lick you, mission-bound, until your lungs are on fire and you physically push him away. He smiles up at you, chin sticky and wet and red. He wipes it, kneeling.
“Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” You say, shortwinded, shocked to your bones. You stare at him like he’s grown a second head.
It’s the first time someone other than your knowing hand made you come. And it’s fucking Matty Healy. You blink at him.
“What?” He laughs, falling beside you on the bed.
You gesture vaguely downwards. “That.”
“Oh,” he blushes. Shrugs. “I don’t know. I researched it once.”
“You— Oh, my God.” You stare at the ceiling in disbelief. “Oh, my God. You’re such a nerd.”
Matty grins, cheekily proud. He gently grazes the bruise he left on your breast, the splotch of red that will darken, be a leftover trace of him.
“Thanks,” he says simply.
“You’re welcome.” You shift your legs, feeling the wetness still between them. “Thanks to you too, I guess.” He grins, hiding in the white pillows.
He gives you a look. “Will you listen when I tutor you now?”
You smirk mischievously. “Maybe if you have my fingers in your mouth.”
“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide. “Will you— Will this happen again?”
You make a noncommittal shrug, though a more definite answer hums in your heart. “Maybe if you’re really good.” You smile to yourself. “Or really boring, and I need to shut you up.”
“You can shut me up any day.”
“I know.” You linger in that moment for just a second more, eyes locked together, smiles tickling your lips. Then you sit up, reaching for your underwear. “Session’s almost done.”
Matty nods, lips thin. “Right.” He pats the nightstand for his glasses.
You dress yourselves, wiping away sweat and cum, brushing wild strands. You give an awkward goodbye, incertain, and Matty slips from the room. You don’t follow him to the door. You never do.
Downstairs, you hear your parents thank him and give him a crisp 50 dollar bill. You giggle to yourself and fall on the bed, bone-deep exhausted.
#happy Day after me show day<33#tutor!au#matty healy x reader#matty healy smut#matty healy#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fic#matty healy imagine#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fic#smut#writing#imagine
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if you're too shy (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)
in which the other music journalist at the magazine you work at is the cutest weird boy you've ever met. enjoy <3
in hindsight, coming back from a two-week holiday the same day the magazine goes to print was a misguided idea.
your editor-in-chief tells you as much when you enter the office, pulling you into a half hug. “don't get me wrong, it's lovely to see you,” she says, scraping her hair back into a bun and securing it with a pencil. “but you'll be doing nothing all day, i'm afraid. maybe some last minute proofing, but i think everyone in nightlife and reviews has been alright. double-check with marianne.”
you do just that, weaving your way through people running copy and coffee between departments until you reach your own. it's mercifully quiet compared to everywhere else, the ten or so people dotted at desks around the sunlit room looking at their laptops and wearing headphones; you actually have to flick marianne on the back of the head to get her to notice you. “oi.”
“who the- oh, hi!” marianne's face softens when she sees it's you, and she stands to pull you into one of her infamously bone-crushing hugs before pulling back to get a good look. “well, you look annoyingly well-rested. but i suppose a fortnight in a spanish villa will do that to you. bitch.”
“i had a great time, thanks for asking,” you grin. “how’s everything been with you? stressful, without your star reporter?”
“well, for starters, you've been succeeded for that title.”
you frown only half-jokingly, scanning the room to try and guess which of your colleagues has replaced you as marianne's unofficial favourite. “who the fuck…?”
“language,” she lightly slaps your arm, in spite of the fact she was just about to say the same thing, then smiles suspiciously. “and i’m talking about our newest recruit.”
the brewing annoyance in your stomach dissipates immediately, replaced by a flock of tiny butterflies. “oh,” you try to keep your smile to a minimum. “that's okay. i like him.”
marianne sees right through you, though. she rolls her eyes. “oh, you would.”
“what?”
she sighs, motioning for you to lower your voice and modifying her own to a whisper. “he’s a curly-haired pretty-eyed vaguely scrawny white boy. you'd like him even if he didn't think the sun shone out of your arse.”
“marianne!” you hiss. “he does not!”
“don’t act all indignant, he has literally looked over at you once every thirty seconds since you walked in - and don't look, idiot, you'll freak him out. we need him on the ball, today of all days,” she rubs her eyes. “but yes, he’s very good at his job. i like him, even if i've no idea what in the world he goes off on his tangents about. great writer.”
“yeah, he is,” you risk a glance towards him, but all you can see is the back of his laptop - covered in stickers for things you can only name half of - and dark curls peeking out from the side of his headphones. “i like the references. different perspective from me, innit? that's why we hired him, after all.”
“who's we? you were too pissed off that i was hiring another music critic to agree to be part of the interviewing panel.”
you'd love to disagree, but you really were pissed when marianne and the other editors told you they were expanding the nightlife section. it didn't matter that it was in response to an increase in funding and readership, with the magazine switching to a print format as well as the online edition you'd contributed to since its creation - your fierce independence and pride meant you didn't take the news well, made you think it was an issue with your competence and writing ability that meant you'd be getting a new colleague. but once you were reassured that you'd still get to keep the Big Gigs and restaurant reviews to yourself, you were slightly more agreeable to the idea.
and once you actually met the new guy, stumbling over both his words and his own feet as he introduced himself, you couldn't quite remember why you'd been opposed in the first place.
“well,” you say, snapping back into reality. “thank goodness i'm over it now.”
“because you want to get under him?”
“no!” you stand indignantly, and then grin. “on top, maybe.”
“good grief,” your boss shakes her head. “don't you go bringing it up to him - excuse the pun - before this edition goes to the printers,” she points at you as you move to walk away. “or talking to him at all until then, actually, you hear me? i love you, but you're a distraction to him, and he's my best journo.”
“he's not, but alright,” you pat her head as you walk back towards the door. “i'll be in the staff room if you need me. and i won't talk to anyone, mum, i promise.”
“i'm only five years older than you!”
“whatever you say!” you reply in a singsongy voice, giggling to yourself as you wander towards the sunny kitchen. the little radio on the windowsill is on, as it always is, and you nod along to the cure while you wait for the kettle to boil. once you've made a cuppa (and grabbed a slack handful of the chocolate digestives marianne always keeps the cupboard stocked with), you settle at the table with your laptop, typing out ideas for your next feature and doing your best not to think about the boy down the corridor you've been instructed not to talk to for the time being. for the most part, you succeed.
that is, until he walks into the staff room two hours later.
you frantically wipe your face of biscuit crumbs as he does, smiling as sweetly as you can for someone with no idea if she has chocolate on her teeth or not. “hi, matty. how are you?”
“oh, hi! i'm, uh, i'm alright,” matty smiles widely enough that his verbal emotional downplaying is blatant - still, he's so cute, beaming at you like that with his little sweater paws. he’s always in a jumper or cardigan or hoodie of some kind, and on more than one occasion in the three months you've known him, you've absolutely thought about literally cosying up into him instead of doing any work. “how was spain? and the wedding - it was a family wedding you were going to, yeah?”
“that's right,” it’s not a big deal, but you glow at the fact he remembered. or maybe it's the soft intent he looks at you with. “it was lovely, yeah. although - wait, have we gone to print?” you ask, suddenly recalling marianne's instructions. “i'm not keeping you from work?”
matty's curls bounce as he shakes his head, light hitting off the metal hoop in his earlobe (that you're only mildly obsessed with). “we've gone. i'm just in here to get my lunch,” he pulls a tupperware from the fridge, cheeks rosy as he waves it. “made some soup last night.”
he makes his own soup. the thought is so endearing that it takes everything in you not to sigh; you settle for a smile. “carrot and coriander?”
“you can tell from one glance?”
you shrug. “s'my favourite.”
“really?” matty's face seems to light up. “mine too,” he busies himself with putting the tupperware in the microwave, taking his time pressing buttons and turning dials before looking bashfully at you. “so, you had a nice time at the wedding, then?”
“i did, thank you. do you, um,” you start, suddenly shy. “d'you want to see some photos from it, while you're waiting for the soup to heat up?”
he nods back just as shyly, sitting quite awkwardly on the seat next to yours; while you open your photos app, matty twists a stray curl around his finger, and the movement seems to send your nerves into vibration as well as the molecules in the air. with a series of shallow breaths, you locate the folder of the wedding pictures and set your phone on the table. “feel free to flick through them, if you like.”
“thank you,” matty sits forward, carefully swiping through the album. you lean on your elbow, doing your best not to beam adoringly at the way he looks intently at each photo before moving to the next. “the venue is really beautiful.”
“yeah, it was stunning.”
the next picture is one of you in your bridesmaid dress, taken by your sister the morning of the wedding. you watch, slightly heartsick, as matty's mouth falls open as he looks at you; the feeling worsens when he tentatively does the same thing in real life, those pretty eyes of his sparkling as he smiles softly. “so are you. really. like,” he looks down at the photo again, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at you. “that colour is beautiful on you. honest. you look incredible.”
“thank you,” the words come out in a whisper, and the two of you silently smile at each other for a moment until you clear your throat. “um, there are more of the official pics on my instagram, let me… actually, do you have my private account?”
“oh, no,” matty shakes his head again - god, you love the way his hair moves. “just the one for your writing.”
“well,” you tap on the app with an almost-imperceptibly shaky finger. “that's the username there, if you'd like to follow. no pressure, of course. don’t wanna fuck up your algorithms or anything.”
your nervous chuckle at the end of the sentence turns to a giggle when you see matty's face as you share your username; it lights up so much that you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd just won the lottery. he pulls his own phone out and taps away at it. “you don't have to follow me back, by the way,” his cheeks flush a deep red, a beautiful colour. “m'not posting anything interesting.”
doubtful. he might be one of the most interesting people you've ever met, all talent and sweetness and a wealth of cultural understanding wrapped up in a sweater and a pretty face. “no, i'd like to.”
“alright. thank you,” matty's cheeks seem to get even redder as he watches you hit follow back, face twitching as though he’s trying to stop himself smiling too big. when the microwave dings, he all but skips over to it, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in a sweetly awkward way; he swears under his breath when he lifts the steaming container out, turning back sheepishly to look at you. “sorry.”
“don't worry,” you grin at him, feeling slightly bold. “i still think you're sweet when you swear.”
he giggles, and the noise makes your heart leap; in addition to being one of the most interesting people you think you've ever met, matty healy is without doubt the cutest. watching his lips pout in concentration as he stirs the soup and checks the temperature, you briefly imagine what they would feel like against your own, how he would be if the two of you were to kiss. just as giggly and endearingly awkward as he usually is, you think - eager to please, lips and tongue a little sloppy and unsure but enthusiastic enough for you not to mind, slightly unsure of where to put his hands so as to not make you uncomfortable… the scene is as clear as day in your head, and you really, really want to recreate it. you'd devour him right now if you could, the sweetheart.
and then, matty reaches up to get a bowl from the shelf, the hem of his shirt goes with him, and your want to devour him suddenly takes on a less pg-rated meaning than it did a second ago.
he has a fucking hip tattoo.
you’re pretty sure it's only a sliver of the full design you can actually see, but the hints of red and blue and black ink and the glimpse of his happy trail are enough to fuck you up completely. as you register what you're seeing - what you're discovering about the seemingly buttoned-up, shy, unassuming-to-everyone-but-you matty - your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to cough quite obviously on the mouthful of lukewarm tea you'd just taken. one cough turns into another, and you clap a hand over your mouth to make your tattoo reaction attack the least obvious it can be.
still, the ever-perceptive man across the kitchen notices, running over to crouch in front of you with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. “you alright, darling?”
darling?! no, you most certainly aren't alright.
but you can't tell matty that, so you stick to gesturing to let him know you'll reply once you've managed to swallow your tea. “i am, yeah, thanks. tea just, y'know, went down the wrong way.”
matty tilts his head. “you sure?”
“yeah,” you smile, slightly embarrassed. “really. thank you, though.”
“of course,” he smiles in return, knee brushing lightly against your leg as he steadies himself; he looks down, eyes widening as he registers how close the two of you are, and quickly stands. “i'd better, y'know, get my lunch.”
you nod, despite the strange loneliness settling into your bones at the lack of him next to you. “i can head back to the office, if you want peace?”
“no, no, please stay!” matty all but gasps, turning to look at you like a deer caught in headlights - he clears his throat, blinking a few times before speaking again. “please don't feel the need to leave on my account, i mean. or feel obliged to talk, really - i was just going to read.”
“you're sure i won't be a bother to you?”
matty smiles warmly, shaking his head. “that'll never happen.”
christ.
“okay,” you whisper, winking at him - and savouring the little giggle that bubbles out of him when you do - before turning back to your laptop.
matty settles at the table a minute or so later, pulling a paperback from his back pocket and holding it open quite attractively with one hand. you peek over the rim of your laptop at him every so often, never for more than a couple of seconds at a time; partially to avoid the mortification of him catching you, but mostly because if you look at him any longer you know your mind will wander back to that fucking hip tattoo of his, and what it might look like completely visible to you, and what it might feel like under your lips, and what noises matty might make if you slowly dragged your tongue all over it before moving to the side to lick a wavy line up the length of his-
enough. he's literally right there.
the room feels hot, all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing and throat drying to match. on only slightly shaky legs, you pick up your waterbottle and head to the water fountain, crouching as best you can to fill it. even though he stays silent, you can feel matty’s eyes on you from across the room, but it doesn't bother you or freak you out in the way that other men ogling you at a water fountain would - it's quite obvious that matty has some sort of more-than-platonic affection for you, but his gaze has always been one of appreciation and awe when it comes to you, not the predatory one you've come to expect from men. and yet, his is the only male gaze that makes you feel slightly nervous, unused to being looked at with such reverence and tenderness by an attractive boy; in complete contrast, though, it also makes you lower your guard, pull down the bricks from the wall you've built around your heart, and allow yourself to actually feel something for matty, for once. something good, honest, promising.
matty looks up from his book as you sit down, smiling pleasantly. he opens his mouth as if to talk, and then closes it immediately, shaking his head slightly.
this intrigues you. “you okay, matty?”
“hmm? oh, yeah, i was just thinking,” his cheeks go a shade of pink you would buy in blush form if you could find it. “when you were first talking about the wedding… you said although, and then we got off-topic slightly. what, um, what were you going to say, if you don't mind me asking?”
“oh, right,” you wrack your brain, doing your best to not get distracted by how cute you find his perception. “i think i was going to say something about how, as good as it all was, there's nothing like a family wedding to remind you of how single you are.”
his jaw falls open. “you… you don't have a boyfriend? wait, sorry,” he blinks. “or a partner?”
you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself smiling. “no boyfriend, no. and thus, constantly advised by a never-ending flock of aunts that i should get one so i could get married.”
“christ,” matty winces. “yeah, my cousin's getting married in a couple of months - not looking forward to everyone asking me when i'm going to meet a nice girl and settle down, as if i can answer.”
no girlfriend. how interesting. “you're single? really?”
he rolls his eyes, still smiling at you. “be serious. course i am.”
“i am being serious! that surprises me,” you lean on one elbow, tilting your head to look at him. “you're lovely, matty.”
matty’s eyes widen, and he blinks adorably a few times before he smiles shyly again. “thank you. i think the same about you.”
“you do?”
he simply nods, total sincerity in those pretty eyes.
you feel your cheeks warm, but you make no effort to hide it. “thank you.”
matty shrugs. “just telling the truth, darling,” he looks panicked when he realises what he's said. “sorry for calling you that, twice, it just-”
“i like it, matty, it's alright,” you say reassuringly. “and i like-”
“oh, thank god you're both here,” marianne bursts into the room, carrying her laptop; you frown petulantly at her for ruining your moment, but shuffle your chair round closer to matty's so she can sit at the table too. “something weird’s happening.”
matty squints. “what d'you mean by weird?”
marianne pushes her laptop towards you both. “there's overlap in your planned reviews - the band you're going to see at the end of next week, matthew, have just been announced as the opener for the next Big Gig. i need to know how we want to go about this.”
“oh,” he looks at you. “i don't mind if you want to just review them as part of yours.”
you're shaking your head vehemently before he even finishes talking. “no, that's not fair,” you tap your lips with your index finger the way you always do when you concentrate, trying to ignore the glow within your body when you see matty looking at them from the corner of your eye; inspiration strikes, and you turn to marianne. “matty could come with me, couldn't he? if he reviews their headline gig, and then he does a follow-up review of their opening set in the Big Gig feature - we could just do a joint byline, work together on it.”
both of them turn to look at you in slight shock. marianne is the first to speak, her words trickling out slowly as she processes the fact you've just agreed to let someone else work on a Big Gig for the first time. “you're… happy with that?”
“if matty is, yeah,” you turn to him, smiling. “sound alright?”
he beams. “more than. thank you.”
“of course,” you turn back to the boss. “there you go. sorted.”
she sighs, relieved. “thank goodness for that. alright,” she stands, picking up her laptop and heading back to the main office. “i'll coordinate press passes. thanks for making that simple - you're both stars.”
“anytime!” you call after her, before turning back to matty. “you're sure you're happy to do this? i realise i've just given you more work to do, but…”
he laughs, a beautiful sound. “nah, i don't mind. also,” he shuffles in his seat, bashful again. “i actually have a spare ticket for the first show, if you'd like it - bought it before i saw it was on the review roster. doesn't seem fair that i get to go to two gigs while you only get one, i think. i mean, no pressure, obviously, but the offer's there.”
god, he’s so fucking cute. how could you ever say no to him? “i'd like that a lot, matty, thank you,” you beam at him. “i think us working together is going to be a lot of fun.”
matty beams back just as enthusiastically. “i think so too.”
#mads muses#mads does writing#office nerd au#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fic#matty healy fluff#matty healy x reader#matty x reader
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the birthday party -
pairing: matty healy x f!reader
content: friends to lovers, explicit consent, george is a good friend, matty eats pussy, safe sex, denise, p in v sex
wordcount: 6787
this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.
a/n: matty healy, you will always be famous <3
maybe it shouldn't bother him as much as it does. after all, it's just another day.
but it's his birthday. it's his fucking birthday, and there are no messages from you lighting up his phone.
at first, matty tried to convince himself that it was nothing. he had woken up and expected an all-caps message, only to be met with the god-awful time of 5:00 am. but it was okay - it was early, so you probably just want to wait - to ensure that he's awake to see your message.
so he waited.
he waited through bleary eyes - surrounded by his concrete walls and his white comforter - until his alarm sounded and jerked him awake.
a rush of disappointment shattered his bones when there was no message from you. no ‘happy birthday,’ no ‘good morning,’ not even a ‘hey.’
but still, it's okay. matty went about his morning, taking phone call after phone call from family members he hadn’t heard from since last year, pretending there wasn’t a hole in his heart where you left a dent. his mom texted him once; something about going over for a party and celebrating his birthday there with his family and bandmates, and that was it.
he spends the rest of the day picking at the pancakes george made him and tries desperately to ignore your silence.
so yeah, it hurts that you didn't text him, and he's starting to think that maybe it's not okay. because you're his best friend, and you didn't even have the decency to wish him a happy birthday.
there's always been something between the two of you; dotted lines that make it hard to walk or see straight whenever you're together, usually bickering about god knows what.
george says you love him. matty flicks his forehead until he drops it.
because how could someone who loves him forget his birthday?
he feels selfish - feels like shit wishing for something other than the health and clarity he was brought up to be thankful for on his birthday.
and you still don't text him.
it's only a couple of hours later when george's air conditioning hits his face with full power, eyes watering slightly with the artificial wind blowing right into his cornea. they’re on the way to his mother’s house, and matty is bracing himself for the onslaught of aunts with their strong perfume and uncles with their disapproving looks. beside him, george hums from the driver’s seat, a clear indication he can sense matty's heedlessness.
"alright, that's it," george says, turning down the music dial until barely audible guitar strums resonate in the car. “you’ve been moping all day. what gives?”
matty shrugs. "nothing, mate."
"bullshit."
george’s eyes are switching between watching the road and glaring daggers into matty's.
“it’s your birthday, and you’re acting as if someone just killed your snake. so i ask again,” george mutters as he flicks on his turn signal, pulling off the freeway to evacuate the sanctum of subdued car horns and merge into the exit lane. “what gives, matty?”
"it’s not a big deal,” he starts, interrupted by the forced chuckle that resounds beside him. he continues when the light turns green, george slowly letting off the breaks as they near his mom's house.
“i mean, i guess it's just, like, i dunno. i thought that—” he cuts himself off, lost in his head. matty stumbles over his words, a mess of broken syllables as he runs a nervous hand through his hair, messing up the mop of curls.
“she hasn’t texted me today.”
it’s rushed, a lick of shame and embarrassment crawling up his spine as the frigidity of the air conditioning meets his neck. the car is cold, chilling matty's bones with gentle fragility until they freeze and shatter like glass. he bleeds shame, every ounce of blood in his body tainted with the reminder that you forgot.
george's breath hitches, and he clears his throat with a fist over his hand as the other one turns them into a familiar street.
his mother’s house appears in his peripheral vision, the front porch light emitting a timbre, yellow glow, and he can see shadows through the large kitchen window.
matty picks at his nails, messing with his fingers as george parks the car. he can feel watchful eyes on him when he stares down at his lap.
george turns in his seat so they’re forced to face each other. “she didn’t text you at all?”
“not since last night.”
he unbuckles his seatbelt and places a hand on the door handle. he's stopped, a tug to his arm keeping him in place and not permitting him to leave the car—leave the conversation.
“hey,” george starts, voice low and with a lilt of concern tracing the lone syllable. “i’m sure she’s got a good reason. she wouldn’t just forget your birthday.”
matty scoffs, shaking his head until strands of dark hair fall in his face, blowing upwards so he can see again. “what reason?”
“i don't know,” he says, all one breath and fidgety when he unbuckles his seat belt. “but whatever it is, i’m sure she has a good excuse.”
there’s a squeeze to his shoulder, warm fingers emitting heat where they touch his skin through smooth cotton.
“you’re too young to be going through a midlife crisis over the girl you love not texting you for twenty-four hours.”
matty doesn’t have the energy to argue, not when he knows that his friend is right.
so instead of arguing, he smiles and punches george in the arm for good measure before they head down the paved walkway to his childhood home.
his mother greets him first, halfway through his third knock because she expected them over earlier. despite the squint in her eyes, she pulls her son into a tight hug, rubbing comforting circles into his back.
“happy birthday, dear,” she sings, muffled by his chest as she stands nearly half a foot shorter than him.
“thanks, mum.” he smiles, moving aside so george can get engulfed in a hug.
he’s missed it here, the warmth that bubbles in his stomach when he’s around his family, a house full of love and people that he grew up with. it’s almost enough to make him forget about a certain someone who still lingers in the back of his mind like day-old leftovers.
almost.
“so!” his mother beams, stepping back and allowing the boys to remove their shoes and step deeper into the house. “everyone is already here, and they can’t wait to sing you 'happy birthday'.”
matty’s led down the hallway, following his mom into the kitchen. a rumble of deep-set voices and squeals call his name, and his head turns to watch distant relatives scramble to pull him into tight hugs.
he kisses his grandparents on the cheeks, hugs his aunt and uncles and tells his cousins that he missed them. they pass him presents like he’s five again, smaller gifts to unwrap now that he’s an adult and no longer asks for life-sized action figures. george joins him, staying close with a timid smile on his face as he mingles with matty’s family. the whole scene coaxes a content sigh to escape his lips, and he relaxes when his mom gives him another hug.
“i got you something too,” she whispers when they pull apart, leading them into the living room and passing him a glass of wine. they sit, lively music wafting through the speakers, and he smiles as he watches george twirl his cousins around. “it’s not here yet though, i’m afraid. you’ll have to wait a little longer.”
“you didn’t have to get me anything, mum,” he says through the bitter taste of merlot.
she waves her hand dismissively. “oh stop it. you’ll love it, i promise.”
he tries to enjoy the party—really, he does. but thoughts of how much better it could be if you were here to enjoy it with him linger in the back of his mind. it’s tough to decide whether he should miss you or be mad at you. maybe he should forget you all together right now but he can’t. not when his brain is growing fuzzy and his cheeks feel warm, patches of crimson surely paint his face, thanks to the glass he downed in one go.
“matty, come do a shot with me!”
with a huff, matty makes his way toward his friend who holds a shot glass nearly overfilled with clear liquid.
george’s grin melts away when he sees him, eyes filled with concern as he hesitantly passes the shot to matty.
“you okay, mate?”
matty clears his throat and mumbles something about allergies and how it’s stuffy in here as cool liquor spills over his fingers. george doesn’t seem to buy it, but he shrugs anyways.
he shakes off the mist clouding his brain and smirks, self-indulgence taking over his dark eyes. he clinks the glass to his friend’s, liquid sloshing off the sides before he tips it back. it burns when it runs down his throat, leaves his tongue dry in a desert of twisted intoxication he knows he’ll regret in the morning.
“shit,” george hisses through his teeth. “‘ forgot that i fuckin’ hate vodka.”
matty laughs, and there’s silence between them for a moment, then, “mate, are you sure you’re okay? ‘cause, not to be an arse, but you look fuckin’ horrible.”
exasperated, matty runs his hands through his already mussed hair.
“i’m gonna go get another drink.”
a calloused hand wraps around his wrist and stops him from pulling away. “maybe you should ease up on the booze,” george says.
“aren’t you the one that was just begging me to do shots with you?”
“that was before you turned into a sad drunk. here,” he shuffles around for a water bottle, “drink this and go get some air—maybe a smoke, too, while you’re at it.”
grinning, matty takes the water from george’ hand with a simple “thanks.”
he sneaks away to the back porch where crickets chirp quietly in the grass—a change from the loud commotion of music and chatter.
lithe fingers bring a cigarette to chapped lips, thumb slipping on the lighter to invoke a small flicker of flames that burn the end of the bud.
with an inhale, matty wonders if his room looks the same as it did that last time he was here; if his brother had claimed any of his clothes or knick-knacks he’d left when he moved out. he wonders if you would find his room childish.
with an exhale, he wonders how his thoughts always seem to trace back to you.
“what have i told you about smoking, matthew?”
“i have a good reason.”
his mom wanders her way next to matty, leaning against the fencepost next to him. “and what might that reason be, love?”
“her,” matty breathes, the smoke from his lungs floating into the distant air. “fuck, mum. it’s always her.” he pauses to take another drag. “she hasn’t texted me all day, and i’m worried about her getting hurt or somethin’.”
denise smiles, and from the corner of his eye, he sees her turn back to the door of the house. he doesn’t follow her motions.
“i’m sure she’s fine, sweetheart,” she says, turning back. “you’ll hear from her soon.”
“but—”
she elbows matty’s side. “no ‘buts’. now, i think you should put that out and come back inside, okay? that stuff is bad for you.”
“soon,” he says, completely ignoring her request, and she sighs, giving her son a final nudge before stepping back inside. matty doesn’t spare her a glance, opting to keep his eyes trained on a black, starless sky.
the familiar buzz of red wine floats through his bloodstream, and he draws another hit into his lungs, filling the void of sadness with grey smoke. he almost thinks he’s hearing things when someone speaks from behind him.
“she’s right, y’know.”
the exhale of smoke comes out in a choked gasp, and his heart stutters, chest tightening.
matty’s scared to turn around. scared to face the cause of his well-being, because there’s no way this can be real. his lip is worried between his teeth, hair falling into his face as he stares at the cigarette laced between his thumb and index finger.
the open wound you left in his heart this morning is sealed by the resound of your voice that echoes through the air.
he doesn’t turn around. you do it for him.
matty’s forced to face you with a pull on his arm, skin tingling where your hand rests. the cigarette is plucked from his fingers seconds after, the stub dropping to the ground where you step on it to put it out.
“hi,” you say, completely and utterly exhausted. “happy birthday.”
the closeness is suffocating.
you’re standing too close but somehow too far away, and matty would pull you into him if it weren’t for the frozen state of his bones.
“hi,” matty breathes, eyes glossy with unshed tears as he stares down at you.
it’s surreal—standing here with the lingering taste of tobacco and merlot heavy on his tongue—the gentle breeze blowing tufts of your hair.
“what are you—w-when did—” matty stutters, mind running a mile a minute, intoxicated brain took over with perplexion. he stops, takes a deep breath, and collects his thoughts. “how are you here?”
“well,” you drawl, shuffling closer to the stunned man in front of you. “your parents bought me a ticket to fly out for your birthday—per george’s request. after that, all i had to do was keep it a secret, hop on a plane, and here i am.”
“here you are?” he repeats. “you had me worried sick. you didn’t text or call—hell, you didn’t even wish me a happy birthday! you can’t—you can’t just waltz in here and pretend that everything is fine when you put me through—”
“matty,” you interrupt, grabbing his hands. “calm down for me, yeah? breathe.”
“no—what? don’t just-”
he pulls away and leans back against the fence. his hands run through his hair, fingers desperately wishing they were holding a cigarette.
“breathe, matty.” you sigh patiently. “how about you give me a tour?”
“can we just … stay here for a while?” he asks, and if there’s tension in the air, it’s ignored. “i just want to make sure i’m not dreaming, or something.”
“you dream about me?’ you tease, crossing your arms to try and shield yourself from the breeze.
dark eyes slowly meet yours.
“all the time.”
he pushes himself off the fence and steps closer to you. the boots he’s wearing give him some height, so he’s looking down at you as his hands move to push your hair back.
“tell me,” you whisper. “tell me what you dream about.”
it’s the urgent tone of your hushed voice that has matty caving—hesitancy swept away with the wind as he gives in, letting his hands trace the sides of your face.
“everything,” he admits, voice quiet and shy. “fuck, love, i dream about doing everything with you. anything and everything you’d want me to.”
you’re silent.
you’re silent, and matty is losing his mind, brain pounding against his skull. he can feel bitter bile rise up his throat, nauseous when he looks back at you—just standing there—lips parted and leaving matty to lie in the grandeur of his own self-destruction.
there’s already an apology forming on his tongue, the fingers that were wound through your hair curling away.
but you step closer and grab his hands, stopping their retreat.
“i dream about it too.”
the words take matty by surprise, the tenderness that coats the revelation alleviating the shake in his hands. he looks at you—really looks at you—and scrutinizes the expression on your face.
he finds no hint of a lie; no hint of cruel duplicity, or fraud. the truth of your words really sinks in when you drop his hands in favour of running the pad of your thumbs under charcoal eyes, ridding him of the hint of tears that start to seep from puffy eyelids.
“c’mon, matty. you can’t possibly be surprised. i mean really, i dropped everything just to see you.” your tone is gentle, but a laugh sneaks its way out of your mouth and curls around matty’s head, leaving him feeling warm.
he rolls his eyes; courage slowly washes over his bones and makes his hands move to pull you in by the waist.
“shut up and kiss me.”
you surge forward, capturing his lips on your own as your hands move from his cheeks to his hair; threading them through unruly curls.
matty drinks in every noise you make, welcoming them as they leave him desperate. the taste of stale alcohol still lingers on his lips, but underneath the bitterness is you; sweet and human.
he would like to pretend that he hears fireworks when your lips part, a mess of bright, colourful explosions littering the sky as he softly licks into your mouth—but that doesn’t happen.
and it’s alright. it’s completely okay because instead of the headache-inducing light and noise, there’s the muffled laughter of his friends and family, the gentle chirp of crickets, and you.
you; gasping into the kiss.
you; your hands tugging gently at his hair.
you; flush against his chest. so close that matty can feel your heartbeat melding with his.
you; jerking away so abruptly his eyes shoot open, flickering over your—now beet-red—face.
the creak of the back door had pulled you away from him, and the sight of george standing atop the welcome mat made you flush.
“um,” he says, shuffling awkwardly. “i just wanted to say ‘hi’, but i think you welcomed her home enough for the both of us.”
matty clears his throat and grins sheepishly at a very shocked george. his cheeks burn red at being caught, but he can’t really bring himself to care—not when you’re finally next to him.
george scoffs, exasperated by his love-sick friends.
“come inside,” he urges, nodding in the direction of the house. “everyone’s excited to see her.”
matty watches as you turn back to him and give a little shrug, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth—and it’s then that he decides that he’s not done kissing you yet.
“yeah. we’ll uh—we’ll follow you.”
he leads you into the house with a hand on the small of your back, and shuts the door behind him, blocking out the sounds of lingering traffic. cheerful voices seep through the walls, and the irony of how he walked in here just a couple hours ago, saddened and heavy because of the girl who’s now looking up at him with only adoration in her eyes is not lost on matty.
“okay, denise is in there laughing about how we all tricked you into thinking the worst, so prepare to be humiliated.”
matty hums in response, staring only at the back of your head as you follow george toward the kitchen. he reaches a hand out, grabs your arm and gently tugs you back with a finger over his lips and a wink.
“mhm,” he sings, leading you slowly towards the stairs. “sounds like fun.”
he doesn’t get the chance to watch as george turns around, already halfway up the stairs with you latched onto his arm.
“you’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.” george’s exasperated voice is the last thing he hears before he’s crowding you against the wall at the top of the stairs.
his lips are on yours before you get a second to breathe, a bruising hold on your waist as he pushes you into solid plaster. he keeps one hand on you while the other presses the wall beside your head, arm shaky as he leans his weight onto you.
there’s a light push to his chest, and you gasp under him as you pull back. matty has to refrain from groaning at the loss of pressure on his lips.
“my bags,” you pant, “i forgot them outside.”
a breath of laughter ghosts over your lips. “we can get them after.”
“but my clothes are gonna get wet—matty, the grass was wet.”
your words render useless as he leans down to plant open-mouthed kisses on your neck.
“then you can borrow some of mine,” matty mumbles, trailing his way up to your jaw to suck purple bruises into tender flesh.
at the thought of drowning in his clothes, you go lax against matty’s lips; giving in to his desperate mouth.
“okay,” you agree, and that’s all it takes for matty to recapture your mouth and let his hands wander.
calloused, gentle hands trace the curve of your body as lithe hips press into yours. he manages to tear a hand away from you to feel for the cool metal of the familiar doorknob, twisting until the door falls open.
he tugs you in with sweet urgency, his old bedroom cast in soft light, the only luminosity coming from the moon where it seeps through the blinds.
maybe it’s just the heat of the moment, or maybe you don’t care—but matty’s grateful you don’t comment on the bowie posters that grace his walls as he pushes you into the middle of his bed.
you land with a light bounce and prop yourself up onto your elbows, a cocky grin making its way onto your face. “i’ve been here for barely twenty minutes,” you breathe, gasping when matty situates himself between your legs and pushes you higher onto the mattress. “and you already wanna tear my clothes off.”
the brunet dips his fingers under the hem of your shirt, hiking it up just a sliver to catch a glimpse of soft, smooth skin. “wanted to for a while now.”
he brings the hem of the shirt up to your lips. “bite,” he whispers, voice husky.
with the new expanse of skin exposed, matty's practically left breathless. he takes tender flesh between his teeth, laps his tongue at bare and unmarred skin, and sucks until he feels you arch your back and lean into his mouth. his hands trail the expanse of your ribs, feeling the delicate bones under his touch.
marks upon marks are added to your lower stomach, matty desperately trying to leave reminders on your abdomen. his lips work on their own accord, sucking bite after bite up your torso until he lands at the base of your bra. he looks up at you, eyes questioning. laughing softly, you sit up, gently pushing him back onto his knees. dark eyes trace your body, watching as you undo your bra, slipping it off and letting it fall to the floor, along with your shirt.
the man in front of you sits in awe, and lets out a long sigh. “fuckin’ gorgeous.”
you’re not sure if the words were meant for you to hear, but you blush anyways, leaning back and letting your elbows hold your weight.
“do your worst, birthday boy.”
matty laughs, the happy—and somewhat shocked—noise echoes through the small bedroom and causes you to grin. he doesn’t hesitate to drop his head; lips meeting your warm skin, teeth leaving trails of bruises.
you gasp out breathy pleas when matty flicks his tongue over the peak of your breast. “y-your—shit,” you whine, hands landing in the man’s hair, tugging at the curls harshly. “your family is downstairs, matty. what if they—ah!—hear us?"
“don’t care,” he responds, biting softly at the pink bud and rolling the other between his index and his thumb. “want this. want you.”
”fuck. i—okay, okay. you have me, matty,” you moan, pleasure dripping from your lips. “you have me.”
he surges up to kiss you again, newfound fervour in the brush of your lips as he tilts his head to lick into your mouth. you still taste sweet, everything matty could ever ask for.
“you’re gonna have to be quiet,” he whispers, leaning back on his knees and tracing patterns over your stomach, dipping his fingers into the bruised marks just to hear the masochistic whines you let out at the pain. “as pretty as you sound, i don’t want anyone hearing us.”
hearing his words over, matty backtracks, his hand stuttering over your torso.
“i mean, not that we need to like, do anything—i’m not—i don’t wanna force you into—”
your fingers wrap around his wrist, halting his ministrations to give a comforting squeeze to his skin.
“i want to,” you breathe, using your grip around his wrist to drag his hand down your stomach to rest on your belt. “i want this.”
at your words, matty rushes to tug at the buckle, effortlessly removing your belt and tossing it to the side.
your jeans are off your hips in a second’s time, but he takes his time sliding them over your ankles, bending down to leave firm kisses on your inner thighs.
you preen under his touch, and your chest heaves as you breathe, a glistening trail of spit drying on your nipples. when the jeans are discarded and messily thrown in a pile somewhere across the tiny room, matty notices the soaked bottom of your underwear.
tracing a finger up the fabric just to watch you writhe, matty tuts. “and you thought i was eager.”
your hips jerk up in response, surprised by the soft touch. your hands fly to his hair, gripping the curls so tight that he grunts against your neck.
“jesus.”
“sorry! ‘m sorry,” you sob. you manage to relax your fingers, but matty shakes his head.
“don’t stop on my account.”
you feel his fingers slide across your damp underwear, moving to mindlessly palm your thighs as he leaves burning kisses up to where you need him most. your hips rut up, chasing his hand desperately, but matty’s not having it.
“matty, please,” you huff, tugging at his hair to try and get him where you want him.
“stop whining,” he hushes. “‘wanna take my time.”
your soft gasps and whimpers start to get to him though, and he pushes his knuckles against your pussy, forcing a shocked moan out of you.
matty shushes you because while he is completely enamoured by each noise that escapes your lips, he isn’t too keen on one of his family members walking in to see him take you apart.
you relent, and worry your bottom lip between your teeth, while matty returns to the task at hand.
“pretty,” he mumbles, slipping calloused fingers beneath the elastic band of your underwear.
he pulls to gradually reveal your soaked folds and his breath catches in his throat. at the sight, he speeds up his movements and practically rips the cloth off your legs. the material joins the jeans on the floor, and finally, he gets to see you in all your splendour.
“can i taste you?” he whispers, voice shaking. you nod, already out of it as you take the liberty of collecting all of his hair away from his face, holding it back as he works his mouth against you.
“matty, you—” you start, a hand flying from his hair to his sheets. they smell like him, but you’re trying not to think about that—trying not to think about how loopy it’s making you feel—because matty’s holding your hips up, nose bumping against your swollen clit as he tongues at your hole.
“you—” you start again, but the thought gets lost somewhere. disappears as matty does something with his tongue that makes you gasp. “jesus christ—” you huff, chest rising and falling quickly.
you get your words out before you can forget.
“fuck,” you sigh, arching your hips into his face and tightening your fist in his hair, “you look good like this.”
the praise goes straight to his head, and he’s groaning. nodding his head into you, hitting a sweet spot and almost immediately, the hand in his hair pulls him up.
“i don’t wanna cum yet,” you say, quiet because you have to be—taking account of the people downstairs. “so just, go easy on me, okay? you’re surprisingly good at this.”
“surprisingly?” matty retorts, raising an eyebrow.
you don’t have time to respond before he runs his teeth against your clit, and chides, “brat,” before tightening the grip his fingers have on your thighs, pushing the digits into your skin before shaking his head from side to side. you see black, your eyes clenched closed as you try and pull your thighs together, but matty pushes them open, desperately lapping at you.
his jaw aches as his mouth moves, but your pleasure is all he knows. even though you asked so nicely for matty to not yet make you cum—the question is nothing but a distant memory in the back of his mind.
he flattens his tongue and guides it up, sliding across your slit before enveloping your clit in his mouth and sucking—forcing a strong, white current to wash over you. your hands shoot up to cover your mouth as you arch into his mouth, breathlessly stuttering his name as you come.
can’t talk, can’t speak.
the feeling is too overwhelming, too all-consuming before the come down eventually starts and words are coming out, your body shaking with the effort to stay quiet; muffled whimpers sounding behind tight fingers.
you hitch your hips up, and matty’s moving with them, basically getting onto his knees to keep you close. “holy fuck,” you breathe, looking down between your tits to where he’s kissing away your slick, only letting go when you shove your hands down between your thighs, nerves shot and sensitive.
“mmh,” you whimper, clamping your thighs together, trying to calm yourself down.
“you with me?” he asks, tucking his damp curls behind his ears. you have to laugh. have to laugh all of this pent-up emotion out as you brush stray hairs from your face.
“yeah,” you nod breathlessly. matty kisses you with a smile and you taste yourself on him. his features go goofy when he raises a brow and asks, “good?”
“fucking amazing.”
“good,” he says again, then rolls onto his back beside you. he’s unbuttoning his shirt, saying, “i aim to please,” when you’re crawling your body up his chest and kissing the shock away from his face.
“oh fuck,” he curses, fumbling to grab a hold of you. you slide your fingers onto the side of his head and taste yourself, mixed with the feel of his swollen, curving lips as he smiles against you. desperation sweeps over you, and you cup a hand over the bulge in his pants, grinding your palm down, and matty has to focus really hard to not give into your touch.
regrettably, he pries your hand away, bringing it to his mouth and kissing each one of your fingers with sentimental ease. “wanna fuck you,” he mutters, playfully biting at your ring finger until you laugh and pull your hand away.
“come on,” you drawl, moving to sit directly on his bulge. “it’s your birthday. don’t you want me to blow you?”
you have a point, matty supposes. his birthday is supposed to be the one day of the year when he gets to be selfish, and what kind of person would he be if he passed up the opportunity to feel your lips around him?
but you’re his gift. tasting you and making you cum from his mouth alone is a better present than he could have ever asked for, and matty thinks he can afford to be greedy tonight.
but to him, being greedy isn’t fucking your throat until pretty tears fall down your cheeks—he can do that another time. greedy, to matty, is taking another orgasm from you, just so he can hear the way his name sounds when curled around your tongue.
he makes quick work of slipping off the mattress and taking off the white button-up and trousers, leaving him in only his boxers.
“i’m not lettin’ you suck me off.” he smirks.
“what? why not?” you move to the edge of the bed, a look of confusion dancing on your features as you run a finger up matty’s exposed thigh. “don’t you want me to?”
it’s hard not to give in when you tease the waistband of his boxers, the light chatter rumbling from downstairs a distant memory as he loses himself in the feeling of cold fingers slipping under the elastic band. leaning forward, you press leisurely kisses against the brunet’s torso.
he allows you to mouth at his abdomen, welcomes the gentle bite when you pull skin between your teeth; a swirl of possessiveness ravishing deep in his bones when he realizes that you’re is trying to match the heart-shaped hickeys that taint your own body.
matty breaks out of his trance when you roll his boxers down until the cloth lies in a pile around his ankles. goosebumps rise to his skin and he can feel his legs begin to tremble.
before you have the chance to take his cock into your mouth, matty takes hold of your hair, and gently pulls you back.
“i said you’re not blowin’ me,” he mutters, leaning over your body until you’re forced to lay flat on the mattress, legs dangling off the edge and chest heaving at the proximity. “i know what i want for my birthday, and it’s not that.”
with a fluid movement, he flips your positions and settles against the headboard, letting you settle on his lap. his hands explore your body, nails occasionally scratching you—making you shiver.
“i want you. i want you as mine, and i want you to ride me, right here.”
matty laughs at your wide eyes, brushes sweaty hair out of your face, and relishes in the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other. he’s painfully hard, and every time you shift just a fraction of an inch, it tugs a shaky breath from his throat.
“alright,” you say, pressing a chaste kiss to matty’s lips. “do you have any condoms then?”
his hand reaches out to his bedside table. “in the drawer.”
you lean to grab it for him, and matty’s kissing you the entire time. over your chest, collarbones, shoulders, and neck as you push around his drawer, saying “you have so much shit in here.”
he turns to look. turns back to your neck. “in the back,” and he’s kissing you again, palming your ass. he slides his hands lower and bumps them against your sensitive clit, making you gasp, clutching onto the wood.
matty fucking laughs.
you shake your head. “you’re an arse.”
“you’re very distracting,” he admits.
you finally find the box, and with a packet in hand, you look down to where matty’s cock lays on his stomach, a bead of precum leaking onto his abdomen. “shit, you’re big.”
matty smirks, cocky. “think you can take it?”
huffing, you slide the condom down onto him slower than necessary. his cocky smirk dies immediately when you suck your cheeks together and allow a pool of spit to spill from your lips.
“gonna try,” you say, slicking up matty’s cock with a thick coat of saliva still partially strung to your lips, the friction slow enough for him to buck his hips and try to fuck your fist to get needed stimulation.
“tease,” he manages to choke out before you sink down onto him, hips flexing back so he slides all the way in. as soon as you bottom out, matty groans long and hard, and his head falls into the crook of your shoulder.
you don’t let him know when you’re ready, only lifting yourself up so matty can feel the drag of his cock along your insides, gasping as pleasure clouds your mind. shaky limbs help you in slamming back down, the legs of the bed creaking with the force of your bodies colliding.
”fuck,” matty moans, hands scrambling to find purchase on your waist. you sound fucked out already, blissful sighs breathed into matty’s hair. “you okay?”
you sit up again, the tip of matty’s cock catching on your folds before you lower yourself again, stuttered curses leaving your mouth.
“mhm, m’fine. y-you’re just,” you sob, trailing off and rolling your hips forward, letting matty’s cock grind against your sensitive bundle of nerves. you swallow, the sound resonating in matty’s ears as he aids your movements with a firm grip on your waist. “big.”
matty’s ego swells and he pulls you down hard on his dick, making you feel just how big he can be. it causes you to shake your head quickly.
“fuck! n-not so fast, please.”
“oh baby,” he soothes, palms sliding to grip your ass, and he uses his hold on you to fuck up into you, keeping a simple rhythm—cock hitting a part of you that makes you sob. makes you collapse against his chest, and you stuff your head into his neck and just take it.
“there?” matty asks with a twinge of something sadistic. “want me to fuck you there?”
“yeah, yeah, please—close, matty, ‘m so close.”
to try and lessen the noise, matty grabs your face and pulls you down into a bruising kiss. he swallows every sound, loving the way you struggle to kiss him back as your legs tremble.
“close already, huh?” he whispers against your lips, drinking in every soft moan that escapes your throat.
and it’s meant to be playful, something that he can tease you about later—but with the way his name is repeated in a fucked out voice, he’s sure he’ll forget to do that later.
so he relents, fucking into you with calculated thrusts, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.
your thighs ache, and the edge is so close all you can do is take what he’s giving you and whine his name pathetically.
it hits you all at once.
a white-hot heat reaches up and grabs you and you clench so fucking tight around his cock that matty falters.
he’s losing his goddamn mind. head tilted back against the headboard, he’s trying to hold back pathetic whimpers, but when your eyes roll to the back of your head and your lashes flutter shut, matty lets out a sob as he comes, rutting his hips into you as your body shakes.
your body shakes with overstimulation as matty moves you against him, milking his orgasm and running sharp nails down your sweat-ridden back.
after the comedown, you breathe out a sigh. matty’s kissing your neck. gently pecking at the hot skin, before spreading his kisses over your jaw, towards your mouth.
“how was that?” he asks, tracing a calloused finger over the marks that litter your body. they turn a deeper shade of purple when his touch lingers for too long, and he grins as you squirm in his grasp.
“i think you already know,” you quip, frowning.
“maybe. but i wanna hear you say it.”
you don’t dignify him with a response, instead shaking your head and lifting yourself off his cock, wincing at the sudden emptiness.
“cold?” matty asks. you nod and curl into yourself as he gets up to rummage through his old closet.
once you’re fully dressed, in clothes albeit a bit big on you, matty helps you stand from the bed and pulls you into a hug—your first proper embrace since you’ve been here—and rests his chin atop your knotted hair.
you hum into his chest, wrapping your fingers behind his back and trace swirls over his bare skin.
“i’m glad you’re here,” he says, pressing a kiss to your crown and pulling back to find his pants. “i don’t know if i actually told you that, yet.”
“i kinda figured you were—what with how fast you stopped crying when you saw me.”
“hey,” matty points an accusatory finger at you, but there’s no malice behind it. “you can’t blame me for bein’ upset, i thought you forgot my birthday.”
together, you fix the pillows and smooth over crumpled sheets, returning the room to the way it was before the kisses, the sex, and you.
“matty, when have i ever forgotten your birthday?”
before leaving the room, you try to smooth out your hair, carding a hand through matty’s as well so it isn’t too obvious what you’ve been doing for the last hour—though you’re sure george has a hunch.
the minute you step into the kitchen, with matty close behind, you see george down the rest of his beer and make his way over to you.
“so,” he drawls, a shit-eating grin spread across his face as he eyes you two up and down. “what have you guys been doin’?”
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Chicken Shop Date | Part 8 |
By @imagine-that-100 and @alovesreading
Description: Matty Healy x Reader (Female) | You and your best friend Amelia came up with a very simple idea of taking celebrities on awkward chicken shop dates, and somehow, it’s managed to become both of your jobs. In the past, you’ve found sitting across from some of the biggest stars on the planet and eating chicken nuggets easy. But then Amelia manages to score you a date with the man who you’ve been obsessed with since you were nineteen; Matty Healy.
Word Count: 28.6k
A/N: Hey besties!! We’re back and this one’s another fun one for you! We were reminiscing about the UK tour writing this one, giving those good days a CSD twist and we hope you enjoy it loads. It was so much fun to write the shit everyone would get up to on the road, but can you believe this one was meant to be the end of this series? Mentalllllllll. Please make sure to check out the author’s note at the end of this as it’s an important one. Thanks for reading! Enjoy! xx
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |
| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |
~*~*~*~ 14th January ~*~*~*~
“Baby please.”
The begging has been going on for about half an hour. It’s come and gone in waves but Matty’s getting more and more desperate and more persistent.
“Please baby, please.” Matty pouts, looking pained now, “I need you.”
You raise your eyebrows at him, in yet another way of questioning him. His arms are tight around your waist, not letting you move from straddling his lap because he thinks that will be how he gets his way.
“You’re being so needy.” You smirk, shaking your head, not giving in to his pitiful pleas.
“Please, please, please.” He looks like he could start crying and it takes everything in you not to laugh. You try and push yourself up off him but he grips your hips even tighter, not letting you move an inch away.
“Matty.” You sigh, your hands resting on his shoulders as you tell him, “I can’t.”
“You can.” Matty changes tactics then and leans in and kisses his way up your neck until he’s whispering in your ear, “Please baby, I really want you to come.”
“No,” You grab a handful of his curls then and pull him back so you can look at him and say, “I can’t come on tour with you Matty.”
Your boyfriend whines, “But you said before I even asked the question that you don’t have anything planned until you go to Copenhagen in February. And you’re coming to half the fucking dates anyway. Please.”
“I will be in the way.” You shake your head.
He promises, “You won’t!”
“Matty, I would be like a spare part, not to mention your tour bus would be full to the brim if I tagged along.” You shake your head, not seeing at all how he could change your mind.
“You wouldn’t,” He frowns, silently scorning you for thinking like that before a hint of a grin comes to his face as he says, “And you’d be sleeping in my bunk, with me.”
“That's going to be so comfy,” You roll your eyes, “Two tall people in a coffin sized bunk for more than two weeks.”
“Thanks for admitting I’m tall baby, but listen.” He looks all proud of himself for his height for a second before he goes into getting his points across again, “We’re in hotels in Cardiff and back home for Manchester so it’s only like a week on the bus really.”
“The bus isn’t the issue Matty.” You sigh, giving him the honest answer, “The issue is I’ll be in the way, feeling useless.”
The bunk wouldn’t be an issue for you at all. You both practically sit on each other's lap when you’re with no other company anyway so sharing a small bed will be the least of your worries. You just know that you’ll feel useless and that you’re a hindrance to things running smoothly.
“Charli’s coming,” Matty raises his eyebrows, “You saying she’s useless?”
“She has musical value.” Your excuses fall easily from your lips, but you can’t help but smile at the way he’s begging, “Can’t you just be happy with me coming to the dates I’m already coming to. You’ll see me every five days.”
“So there's absolutely no reason you can’t see me for the other four in between.” Matty acts playfully annoyed, saying that through his teeth before he leans in to kiss you. “Besides, you really think you’re coming to the gig and then I just leave you that night? Absolutely not… I have needs.”
“You have my Instagram.” You backchat and Matty groans loudly.
There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips as he says, “Whilst I love that you put your Golden Globes dress on there for me to wank to Y/N, I’d prefer it if you were just there to wank me off instead.”
“So romantic.” You snort in laughter.
“Please, you’re obsessed with me and my boys and my music.” Matty pouts with absolutely no dignity left, “And I’m obsessed with you. Please come on tour with me?”
“You’re right, I am obsessed with you,” You smile, kissing his nose to combat the bad news you’re about to give him, “But no, I’m not coming on tour, and that’s that.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
So, Matty persuaded you to come on tour.
It ended up being as easy as him teasing an orgasm out of you, followed later by three phone calls. The first to Amelia, where he asked for proof that you were free - which you were - and then asked if he could steal her best friend away to join him on tour, and Amelia only laughed but didn’t hesitate at all to say of course.
The second call was to his manager Jamie. Where Matty asked Jamie to explicitly tell you how it was not an issue if you came along, and he even said that you could help their photographer Jordan put together a few social media posts if you really wanted something to do. But you were welcome to come along regardless and that the 1975 family would be lucky to have you.
And the third call was to the queen of pop herself, Miss Charli XCX. And it was Charli who really made you agree to joining them as she pleaded with you to tag along. She jokes how she can’t be the only groupie to come along on tour with them (Carly apparently didn’t count) and if you’re really honest, you just can’t say no to Charli at all. It feels wrong to, so after ten minutes of her and Matty giving you their best arguments, you gave in and agreed to join them.
That evening you and Matty went over to your flat where you packed a large suitcase full of everything you could need, and the next day you were on the tour bus with them heading on the rest of their UK tour. And god, you were so glad you agreed to join them.
There’s never a dull moment in that tour bus, it’s either the lads managing to make everyone laugh with their random occurrences, sharing spliffs turning into funny stories being aired for everyone to laugh at or games that end up in the same interesting way they started as.
Being around for soundcheck felt like you’d won some kind of prize. A glimpse into how it all works is so entertaining for you, not to mention them singing to an empty arena that pretty much just has you, Charli, and Carly in it is so much fun.
There have been so many times that you’ve caught yourself just staring up at them on stage and being in awe all over again. But Matty can’t help but find you so entertaining, you’re either singing loudly along at the barrier before Charli pulls you to dance with her, and he is smiling the whole way through what he usually finds boring and inconvenient.
Matty has absolutely adored having you come along on tour. Your presence alone makes him so much more joyful, and everyone who was present for the beginning of the tour has seen the difference. He feels more himself, more alive, and so much happier. And it’s all down to you.
The boring moments on the tour bus, you made them so much better for him. The hours he had to sit with his vocal steamer on, it made it so much nicer when you were lying with your head in his lap or his in yours. You’d both play with each other's hair, listen to music, and now and again chat to each other and the others. But Matty couldn’t stop grinning the whole time.
Even during the first few performances when you were somewhere lost in the crowd and he couldn’t find you, still you made your presence known to him. The first time it was just accidental though, you had written him a note as everyone was discussing the setlist and you’d slipped it into his pocket as a joke thinking he would notice and check.
Matty, however, hadn’t noticed your sleight of hand in the green room and he later found the note when he reached into his pocket half way through the Being Funny section of the set. He pulled out the crumpled up piece of paper and opened it on stage, accidentally laughing down the microphone when he read your words.
I’m trying this again: play antichrist x Pretty, please xx Picture me pouting at you, how can you say no to that? xoxox
The singer was well aware the crowd of people were confused about the note that they could see on the screens, and his laughter, but all Matty did was pocket the note again (fully intending to keep it) and grab his guitar and start playing the chords to I’m In Love With You.
The next day he caught you putting another note in his pocket but he kept quiet, wanting to read it on stage again as a little reminder of you to look forward too during his set. And it's again before he’s due to play I’m In Love With You that his hand dips into his pocket and he finds the note.
He’s smiling instantly, expecting it to be another note pleading for Antichrist, but instead this one is a little different, yet still entirely you.
I need a hug and six months of sleep x (maybe a kiss too)
When he laughs at this one, he hears George ask what's so funny through his in-ears but he elects to ignore him. Once again just picking up his guitar and singing the entirety of I’m In Love With You with a huge grin on his face.
The 3rd time it’s Cardiff night 2 and when he reads the note that night he knows you’ve done it on purpose. You’re a fucking menace who loves to tease him even when you’re not in his presence. As that night the note read:
You better think of me on that settee x
He didn’t laugh that night, no instead his dick twitched and he was reminded about your morning in the hotel and how you were both interrupted before anything could happen (you fell straight asleep as soon as you got in bed the night before) and you had been subtly teasing him all day. Whispering things in his ear, leaving longing touches on him knowing he couldn’t react how he would if the two of you were alone, and then the note.
He didn’t need you to explicitly instruct him to think of you during consumption, as he always did anyway. But this time he put a little more effort into his performance, hoping to tease you a little in the crowd.
And tease you he did. That night you watched as he teased himself on screen, smoking and letting his hands trail down his body until he squeezed himself through his trousers, and your mouth went dry with want when he simulated pulling on someone's hair. On your hair.
Needless to say that when you got back to the hotel room that night, you were on your back almost instantly, Matty’s head dipping between your thighs until you were on the verge of coming undone on his tongue. But he edged you time and time again until you were whimpering, pleading for him to fuck you like no one else could.
It was lucky you were spending another night at the hotel really because Matty doesn’t know what he would have done if you were both stuck not being able to find any relief until another two days' time when you were due in Glasgow. Thankfully he didn’t have to find out. You both alleviated the tension between you that night and again the following morning before you all returned to the bus to start the long drive up to Glasgow on their off day.
The journey wasn’t so bad, you got to have a good laugh with the band, especially loving the time you got to spend with Adam and Carly’s little boy. You got to play with him when he wasn’t down for a nap and Matty loved every second of seeing you and his nephew interact.
You remember that afternoon, Carly had just changed the baby after he woke up from his nap and she’d let you have him. One of your favourite things to do with him was sit him down on your lap and read him one of his little books he had and let him blabber on and on as he tried to copy the words you were saying. But he had started crying in the middle of you trying to get him to say ‘orange’ and you couldn’t find a reason for why he was so upset.
Uncle Matty had come to the rescue and got him from you, and it was when he picked him up that he realised he needed another change, so you went with him to change the baby’s nappy.
It was going so well, you distracting baby Hann keeping him happy and calm as Matty changed him, but Matty made the awful mistake of letting him hold the baby powder. It was once he splayed out the new nappy under him, the baby waved his arms happily at the freedom, Matty had been bathed in talcum powder.
Matty immediately froze, face and hair covered in white, his top had a few streaks of white powder sticking to it and baby Hann had managed to get some on his little chest and arm but he had giggled loudly with you when you cackled at the situation.
Blowing harshly to get rid of the talcum off his lips, Matty huffed out a soft, “I didn’t know it was open.” which amused you even more, doubling over in laughter but taking away the powder bottle from the baby’s hands so he wouldn’t continue making a mess.
Your boyfriend loved to pride himself in doing everything right so you’d taken the mishap to tease him a bit, “Uncle Matty struggling for once, who would’ve thought?”
He’d only rolled his eyes at you, and you watched out of the corner of your eye how he rubbed the powder off himself as you wiped it off the baby and finished changing his nappy.
When you’d gone back to the lounge with everyone and placed a happy again baby Hann on your lap and continued trying to get him to say the names to different fruits, you found him looking at you with adoring eyes.
But not even the sparkle in his eye would make you forget what had happened, so, letting the baby speak gibberish as he harshly pointed at the banana on the book’s page, you turned to Matty and sighed, “I wish I had taken a picture.”
His smile had fallen and he glared at you before rolling his eyes to chat back sarcastically, “I’m sure you do.”
And the rest of the day you had made a joke of ruffling his hair swearing there was some more talcum powder left. The last time you do this, he ends up telling you it’s just his grey hairs and you exaggerate a gasp, pretending like you’ve just now realised.
“Right, I forgot you’re an actual grandad.” You sucked air through your teeth like the fact was making you wince.
But then he went all cute when he flipped it around by reminding you, “And you’re a grandma so it’s meant to be, really.”
A chuckle was your response, which died quickly when he pressed his lips on yours to kiss you sweetly, half to shut you up and half because he’d been dying to for the past few minutes.
That afternoon, both of you ended up catching some alone time, which was really nice when you’re on a bus with sixteen other people. You’re in the back lounge listening to one of your many playlists, both with an AirPod in each ear and lying on the back settee with Matty behind you while you’re watching as the world goes by as you travel further north.
You’re sitting between Matty’s legs, your back against his chest and you both occasionally catch yourselves singing or humming along to the music. Matty wouldn’t change the scenario for the world, he gets to lie there with you against him, kissing the top of your head whenever he feels like, and he absentmindedly plays with the end of your hair.
The singer doesn’t even mind when one of his songs starts up, he finds it amusing that you have absolutely no shame with it being on there. And knowing now that it’s one of your new favourites he even loves hearing you softly sing along.
“Do you think that I’ve forgotten?” You quietly sing, “Do you think that I’ve forgotten? Do you think that I’ve forgotten, about you?”
Hearing that though makes Matty frown, and he waits until you sing it again as confirmation. His biggest fan in the world and now also his girlfriend, has got the lyrics wrong.
He’s trying not to laugh when he gets your attention, “Baby?”
“Yeah.” You ask, tilting your head back a little to look up at him.
He looks really pretty with the way the dimming light is hitting his face through the window. His skin is like it's glowing with the way the sun shines on him, and you find yourself thinking you’re so lucky again especially with the way he’s smiling at you.
Matty can’t help but smirk, “You know you’re getting the lyrics to that wrong, right?”
“No I’m not.” Instantly you frown up at him, entirely defensive.
“Yes,” Matty tries not to laugh, “You are.”
Your frown deepens, your whole face scrunching up as you ask, “Which bit?”
“The main bit,” He tells you, “Do you think I have forgotten… you’re singing ‘do you think that I've forgotten’.”
“They’re the lyrics.” You nod, looking at him like he’s stupid.
He can’t stop himself from chuckling, “No they’re not, baby.”
“Yeah, they are,” You nod, sitting up a little and turning to look at him properly, “I’ve been singing that since the album dropped.”
“Y/N,” Matty grins, entirely amused by you not believing him, “I wrote the song, I think I know the lyrics.”
At that you scoff, “You literally tell people that they are brave for getting lyrics tattooed because you have a tendency for changing them.”
You have a point there to be fair. So Matty just nods down to your phone and tells you to, “Listen to the song again then if you don’t believe me.”
So you do, you start About You again and when you really listen to the lyrics, the little shit might be right. But you’re not having it still, and your denial only makes this even funner to Matty.
You huff when the song ends, still frowning, “As soon as this bus stops we’re going to HMV so I can buy a CD or a vinyl or something so I can see the lyrics.”
“Baby.” Matty says knowingly, whilst grinning like a fool.
“No,” But you’re not having it, “I don’t believe it until I see it officially in the lyrics in the album.”
“Y/N,” Your boyfriend tries to remind you, “I literally wrote the song.”
“And yet I don't trust you even a little bit.” You say, getting yourself up and giving him a snarky smile before you pinch the airpod out of his ear and head back to the others in the main lounge.
On your way you can hear Matty laughing but he doesn’t say anything when he enters the room a moment later. All that he does is grin, knowing he’s right for once, and the grin stays on his face for another hour until you’re pulling him off the bus and into the bustling city centre.
You had to be quick, getting your shoes and coats on and into an anonymous enough state that you wouldn’t be recognised. Well, mostly Matty, hip putting his hood up instantly wrapping himself up in his big coat with sunglasses on as the light was starting to disappear. You did feel like an idiot when he put sunglasses on you too, but then he reminded you that you were keeping your relationship out of everyone else's business for now so he even pulled up your hood too.
You were on a mission to reach HMV before it closed and thankfully you got there with about 20 minutes to spare. It was nice walking hand in hand with Matty though, and chatting about what was going on around you and all the stuff that you liked that you saw in different shop windows.
Matty tried to suggest you go in and have a look before everything closes but you pulled him along with you until you were inside HMV and had a CD of Being Funny In A Foreign Language in your hands. Your boyfriend finds you adorable when you had a grin on your face when you picked it up, as if it wasn’t going to be on the shelf. He can’t help but smile at you.
But his smile falls from his face when you walk up to the A section and pick up a copy of AM and tell him, “I’m going to get Flo to get him to sign it for me.”
Matty just shakes his head and pulls you along to the till, wanting more time wandering around while the shops were still open. Once you handed over the CDs, thankfully Matty managed not to let you pay for them as he beat you to getting his phone on the card machine, something which you scorned him for until you were out of the shop and he shut you up with a kiss.
With the rest of the evening free, you and Matty ended up having an impromptu date. You ended up walking to the Cineworld which wasn’t a far walk and you ended up going to watch M3GAN as there weren't many other good options. This you thankfully ended up paying for, much to Matty’s dismay, but you reminded him that you said you would be paying on the next date so you got your drinks and popcorn too.
Both of you sat in the back corner where you happily remained undetected by anyone and Matty couldn’t stop smiling at the fact he got to hold your hand for the entirety of the film. Even if the film was mediocre at best, he was glad he got to chuckle away with it with you by his side.
Only when you both made it back to the bus just after 10:30, did you find that it was just Adam, Carly, and baby still on board, as everyone else had gone out drinking. They were watching a film in the back lounge so you and Matty just said a quick hello before keeping to yourselves.
There was a quick conversation about possibly going to join the others but Matty didn’t want to. He selfishly wanted you all to himself for a while longer. It's when you get your shit out of your bag that you notice the CDs that until now have remained untouched. You pull Being Funny out with a smile and turn to your boyfriend who’s already noticed what you have and is smirking at you, waiting expectantly.
You’re eager to wipe that look from his face so you sit down beside him and carefully take the CD out of the sleeve it comes in and you pick out the lyrics sheet. Finding About You is easy but then your world crumbles, you’re wrong.
Do you think I have forgotten about you?
Matty cackles when your face falls and you just silently fold the sheet back up and slip it back beside the CD with a look of defeat on your face. Your boyfriend pulls you into him and you fall into his chest as you stubbornly stay rigid in his arms.
He giggles, “I told you so.”
You push yourself out of his grasp, jokingly keeping the annoyed facade going and you push the cd into his chest as you get up, “You can sign it now for that comment, dick.”
“Aw,” Matty coos and throws the CD to the table. He jokes as he wraps his arms around you, still wanting to laugh, “Knew you were only with me to make money on Ebay.”
“Got that right.” You nod and Matty just cackles as he places kisses on your cheeks.
The following night in Glasgow when soundchecking, Matty pulled you onto the stage with him as he sang the correct version of About You, and he pulled you around the ‘house’ with him. And you pretending not to be impressed lasted about 10 seconds because you just ended up grinning and singing along the entire time.
Even more so when he had you kneel down on the floor in front of the table and he stood on it and reached down with his microphone to put it against your chin, exactly like he did to the girl in the Robbers music video. Needless to say, you got all flustered but you played your part anyway, even sticking your tongue out like the girl did in the video and Matty let his fingers dance across your tongue for a second.
When you knelt back on your ankles, so you could sing along with Polly, Matty then got down and sat on the edge of the table and he slowly leant in to kiss you. “Having fun?” He mouthed and you gently nodded until his lips took yours. It felt magical kissing him on stage, especially because you knew it all felt a little bit meta with it looking exactly like the Robbers video as he was singing the follow up to it.
That night on stage at the actual show, your note made Matty laugh, reminding him of yesterday with the talcum powder incident with his nephew.
Greys looking beautiful tonight grandad x
The Glasgow crowd was great, you loved every single second of being in that crowd. You spent a bit of your time with Jordan that night, going to different places with him and watching him take pictures from afar before you ultimately made yourself at home in the pit.
You thought that this being your 6th show, you would have somehow found it less painful to leave the pit during Give Yourself A Try, but it’s not. It still pains you each time you do it, but thankfully you can still hear it when you disappear off to head backstage with Jamie.
It ends up being an hour and a half before you end up back on the bus, and that night you were heading straight down to Manchester. Somewhere you’re really eager to go because you’d only been a handful of times and you really didn’t know the ins and outs of the city like Matty does, so when he promised you a tour you got really excited at the thought. You couldn’t wait till tomorrow to get there.
But it was that night on the bus when you needed to squeeze out of the bunk to get yourself a drink that you noticed your tote from the previous day was folded up on the table. You grab it, intending to put it in the mesh pocket of yours and Mattys bunk so you don’t lose it, but instead you feel CDs. And that’s when you remember your purchases.
You take them out, smiling when you see AM, knowing Flo will find it funny that you bought it. But it’s when you see Being Funny that you’re a little shocked and your heart doubles in size.
Never for a second did you think Matty would actually sign the CD for you, but he did sign his name in the top right hand corner with three kisses underneath it. But it’s what he’s written on the left side that has you melting.
// Be A Riot //
It’s then that you know that the man who wrote that for you is probably the most special person in your life, as even though it may seem like such a simple lyric to write, it means so much more. You fully allow yourself to give in to every little happiness he brings you from that moment on, and it starts with you going back to your bunk and plastering hundreds of kisses across his face before you settle down and whisper to each other just how obsessed you are and falling asleep in each other's arms.
~*~*~*~ 20th January ~*~*~*~
Manchester is so much fun, especially with Matty by your side. He really is the best tour guide, and he had been everywhere else you’d been, but he seems to come alive in his hometown.
He holds your hand the entire time, both of you dressed in your disguises so no one spots you wondering around the day of their gig. It made you giggle at the amount of people in 1975 tops that you passed but thankfully Matty evaded detection.
You felt like you were watching your boyfriend's Zane Lowe interview all over again because Matty took you around the same places the video showed. But it was so much fun with Matty explaining to you properly and in detail the shit that he and the boys got up to when they were younger.
First he takes you around the Northern Quarter, he shows you the square of bars that will be heaving later on that night and he shows you the spot where he wrote The City back in the day and you don’t even try and hide your smile from him.
Going to Afflecks and seeing their poster up on the wall surrounded by so many other posters of musical legends fills your heart and you can’t help yourself taking a quick picture of it to keep for yourself.
You were gutted you couldn’t take a picture with it but when you look up the stairs to the right and you catch a glimpse of a photo booth, you almost drag Matty upstairs with you so you can freely take a picture together without risking getting caught.
He’s faster than you when he pays for the pictures once you’re inside and the curtain’s drawn, and you both quickly put your hoods down and take off your sunglasses so that you don’t take pictures in your disguises.
At first you think 6 poses is going to be a job for you to come up with in less than 5 seconds in between pictures but your boyfriend makes you giggle so much that it comes natural when you mess about in front of the camera.
Matty’s cute though, cupping your jaw and giving you a sweet kiss for the last one and when you see them all printed, you melt in his arms. He steals one last kiss as you finish getting yourselves back into your disguises and you make sure to carefully put the photo strips away before you walk out of the booth.
Before you have to go back to the venue for soundcheck, he takes you to Gorilla and when you get there he tells you what he has planned for the gig they’re going to have there.
He nonchalantly says, “We’re doing all of self titled.” and you gasp loudly in response.
“What?!” Is the only thing you can say after that information has been dumped on you.
Matty chuckles in amusement, “Yeah… Thought you’d like that news.”
“Not when I have a trip to Copenhagen planned for Amelia’s Birthday!” You hide your face in your hands and take a deep breath before asking, “Deluxe version or just the regular version?”
“What happens if I say deluxe…” Matty taunts you with a smirk, but when you drop your hands and glare at him very seriously, he presses his lips together not to laugh.
“You better not.” It’s all you warn him with, even the thought of that happening makes you sick.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, dropping a kiss on your cheek and then one on the corner of your mouth and right before he can trap your lips in a sweet kiss, he whispers, “The regular version.”
You allow yourself to melt into him for a bit, but when his tongue teases your bottom lip, you pull away to make him suffer a bit for what you’re going to miss soon. Your hand comes up to his cheek and you pat it softly, “It better be.”
Going back to the venue was a bit more hectic than you expected, you had to be very careful with not getting caught by the big queue of fans lining up outside the venue for the show. But once inside, thanks to Mark and Scott being the absolute best, being around everyone again is a relief. A newfound sense of familiarity that you’re growing to cherish, therefore you’re dreading the end of tour in only 10 days.
When you walk out to watch the lads on stage and you see Charli up there with them, George guiding her into the house through the door and showing her the way around, your jaw drops.
“Are you the surprise tonight?!” You ask loudly, your hand hovering over your mouth in shock.
Charli offers you a smirk and nods, “Yes baby!”
You squeal in excitement, and watch as she quickly rehearses what her entrance will be like. She puts on a little show for you as she sings a few scattered lines of Vroom Vroom into a microphone that doesn’t play through the speakers. Of course she couldn’t soundcheck properly so that no one could hear and ruin the surprise, but she trusted that it would go smoothly when the time came for her to walk in on stage.
Carly, Charli and you are standing against the barricade fence after your pop star friend has finished her brief rehearsal and you watch the lads soundcheck with a big smile on your faces.
Their banter makes you all laugh, and you all join in taking the piss of each other here and there. When your boyfriend taps his trouser’s pocket with his brows raised, you know it’s his silent way to ask about getting a note tonight and you wink at him in response. A cute blush rises on his cheeks and his voice grows sweeter when he starts singing the chorus to Oh Caroline when he’s instructed through his in-ears.
Your note makes him giggle as he flushes from head to toe, he can feel his cheeks warm and that feeling you give him envelops him entirely. A bubble of happiness bursts inside him and it coats every inch of him, all because you said…
Obsessed with you x
He sings with a bit more intent after that. The fact that it’s Manchester they’re playing in and that he wants to impress you even more, makes for his voice to come out beautifully sultry and you’re left in awe hearing him come to life on stage.
Like you expected, Amelia was shocked to the core when you facetime her with the little bit of signal you get as Charli is about to walk on stage, and you all but scream the lyrics out along with the pop queen and the rest of the crowd.
After that the gig just kept getting better though. Your boyfriend got a Greggs sausage roll thrown at him and he was giggling as he picked it up and took a bite and then spat it out. It certainly gave everyone a laugh, the band included, and they continued their set.
When the gig finishes and you head back to the greenroom, Matty comes all sweaty to you and traps you in a hug that then turns to him wrapping an arm around your waist and using his other hand to cup your jaw and pull you in for a dizzying kiss.
“Obsessed with you too.” Matty says once he pulls back, his forehead pressed against yours and nudging your nose with his in a cute eskimo kiss.
He feels as you scrunch up your nose and you lean in for another quick kiss, humming into it as a sign of approval. You don’t think you’ll ever grow tired of hearing him say those words to you, it always manages to make you putty in his hands.
Drinking with everyone and enjoying the wave of energy after the show is so fulfilling every time. An excuse to celebrate the band’s talent and their continuous delivery on a great show. So it’s easy to let time fly by as you do: cracking jokes, laughing at the guys’ occurrences, sharing their funny views of the crowd, talking about how mental it had gotten when Charli came out.
Soon enough it’s time to leave the venue but you’re surprised when you get to the bus and your boyfriend tells you to get your stuff because you’re staying somewhere else tonight.
You were expecting a hotel room to be the destination but when you sit in the back of the Uber Matty has ordered, he tells you with a massive grin that the plan for tonight is, “We’re staying at Denise’s.”
Matty doesn’t miss the way your face lights up at the news and he feels your heating cheeks when you hide your face in the crook of his neck with a soft squeal of excitement only he hears.
It takes about half an hour to get to Denise’s house so when you walk through the front door, you find her half asleep waiting for you to get there. She greets you sweetly, this time remembering your name instead of calling you ‘chicken nugget date girl’, and only after a few minutes of small talk she excuses herself to go to bed.
Lincoln isn’t far behind her, making everyone a brew before he goes upstairs to join his wife who’s probably already asleep despite him making her a cup of tea too. Louis chats with the both of you a little more before he calls it a night too.
Your boyfriend doesn’t waste more time after his family leaves to drag you upstairs, promising he’d show you around tomorrow. He was also knackered and he had wanted to have you all to himself for ages now, so it’s very quick that you find yourself walking into his childhood bedroom and smiling at the glimpse into a younger Matty’s mind.
You look at the pictures he has on the walls, of the four boys among other friends who he went to school with or met at various parties. You spotted Flo in a few of them too and it’s so adorable to you that you get a glimpse into the people they used to be.
You were smiling and asking questions about them all, even telling Matty that a photobooth picture of him and Flo from when they clearly first got together was cute. You like that he hasn’t shut off that part of his life and the picture is still up, because after all his experiences have made him into the man who he is today.
Matty smiles at the memory of it but he just takes the photobooth picture that the two of you took today and puts it up in a free spot on his wall. That warms your heart deeply, you can’t stop grinning as the both of you then get settled.
The singer jumps on his bed, flopping down on it and you giggle watching his hair flying everywhere and eventually coming to rest almost over his eyes. Matty just lets out a long sigh, clearly loving the feeling of lying on a proper bed again and you must admit you can’t wait to join him.
Matty makes no effort to get himself undressed, other than kicking off his shoes and socks and pulling his tie even looser. Instead he watches you, not even bothering to hide how much he’s grinning as he watches you make yourself at home in his room.
His grin only gets bigger when he watches you get undressed and he mutters under his breath how fucking good you look which just makes you flush a little but you choose to mostly ignore him and instead ask for one of his tops. He points over to a drawer where he knows there will be some and he smiles watching as you pull out his Revelation Records original bold top and slip it on.
You finish changing and come to sit down on his bed, grabbing your skincare stuff and start blindly applying it to yourself. That is until Matty exaggeratedly coughs a few times clearly expectantly as he wants you to do his too like you’ve been doing every night you’ve been away.
He’s all smiles as you rub the various creams into his face, even kissing the palm of your hand and then over the tattoo on your wrist followed by a small thank you when you finish. After that though he puckers his lips at you, and you giggle as you scooch down the bed and get comfy enough to kiss him how he wants.
Your heart feels very full, being in your boyfriends childhood bedroom, kissing him goodnight after he’s put on an excellent hometown show, with only the warm light of his bedside lamp letting you see just how big his smile gets. It’s really difficult for your heart not to stretch to a certain place too early, but you love everything about this new relationship despite only being in it for such a short amount of time.
But with him kissing you so sweetly, how he always does, and him pulling you into him so you’ve got practically no space between you, it’s not a shock he always makes your heart stutter. You love getting lost kissing him, it’s certainly a favourite pastime of yours.
And you love the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair, how he clutches you tighter when you do to his curls and the groans he lets out when you pull on them.
You do just that and just like you were expecting, his mouth hangs open for a second when he lets out a groan. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, giddy from the affection and the realisation of how you’re growing to anticipate his actions.
The sound of your bubbly laugh lights up a spark inside him. The walls of the dam that contains all that he feels for you burst and it all comes pouring hot and sticky, melting his insides and flipping a switch that makes him eager to translate the mess of his emotions into something you can understand.
He presses your lips a bit harder then, hips bucking forward and pressing in between your parted legs which has you gasping. Your tongues meet and taste each other when he catches his chance to do so, fingers digging into your skin as his hold grows with intention.
Matty doesn’t want to let you go. He doesn’t think he ever will.
But he won’t get ahead of himself. He wants to make you feel good, like you do to him with just your presence, with the simple sweetness of your laughter, the warmth of your touch, your silly jokes at his expense. He could go on and on, every day adding a new thing to the list.
In your head, a very different train of thought is going on. You’re entirely too aware of where you are and who is in the same space as you, so feeling him getting increasingly eager about getting off with you, you have to be the one to cut things before they move past a point of no return.
“Matty.” You smile, knowing where this road leads and it’s not somewhere the both of you can go in his childhood bedroom.
“Mmmh.” He hums against your lips, keeping them against yours not wanting to stop kissing you at all.
You repeat yourself, “Matty,” this time hoping he takes the hint.
He reluctantly pulls away, quickly asking, “What?” as he pecks your lips a few more times.
You’re grinning as you tell him with knowing eyes, “Calm down.”
But that makes your boyfriend frown a little, “What’s wrong?”
“We’re in your Mum's house.” You remind him, almost finding it funny he forgot, “She'll hear us. Your whole family will hear us.”
“No they won’t.” Matty shakes his head, knowing he’s not been caught out before so he doesn’t expect he will now. “Relax, I wanna make you feel good baby.”
“Matty.” You try to reason with him, still not entirely sold on the idea.
The sheer embarrassment of Denise knowing you’ve shagged her son in her house a mere 20 days after first getting with him is something you don’t think you could ever live down. You’re aware she’s a legend and a lovely person so she would probably never comment on it even if she did hear you, but you don't know if you could handle the embarrassment of being looked at with knowing eyes.
“Come on, I know you can bite those pretty lips to stop yourself being loud.” Matty grins, dragging his thumb over your already puffy bottom lip. “Can you do that for me baby?”
Instinctively you nod, always wanting to be good for him, but then you realise what you’ve just agreed to, “But-”
Matty’s already chuckling at you giving in and then catching yourself. As soon as he sees that nod of yours he moves his hand from your hip to between your legs and feels that you’ve soaked through your underwear which makes his jaw lock and your ‘but’ catch in your throat and whine.
Your boyfriend starts drawing circles over your clit through your underwear and if he didn’t have the confirmation of what you want already, the buck of your hips into his hand certainly gave it to him. And Matty can’t fucking wait to have you unravel underneath him again, he’s dying to at this point.
Your boyfriend kisses you sweetly again as if he’s not already doing anything sinful, “You gonna let me make you feel good?”
You nod a little in his hold, “Yeah.” pleasure already creeping its way up your spine.
“Good girl.” He smirks before kissing you deeply once more, before pulling away and telling you to, “Relax.”
But there's only so much relaxing you can do when a man is kissing his way down your body, heading to where you want him desperately.
Your boyfriend teases you beyond belief, that sinful tongue of his licking up your already soaked underwear just to make you choke on your breath and bite your bottom lip harder before he decides he wants to play with you a little more. After pulling your underwear off, you expect him to go straight to where you’re already throbbing for him, but no.
Matty decides that now is the time to appreciate a woman’s thighs. Slowly he kisses, licks, and bites his way down your skin, building your anticipation again and again until your hips gain a mind of their own and start bucking towards him, it makes Matty chuckle at the same time you plead for him to stop teasing you.
Only after you beg him once more does he give you what you want. Matty laps at your clit like a man starved, knowing exactly how to tease you now and he smirks to himself when your thighs tremble beside his head before dipping his tongue down to drink you in again.
He notices the way you’re holding your moans to yourself, huffing as he flicks your swollen clit with a skilled tongue, your teeth digging harshly on your bottom lip to quiet your whines when he sucks on your clit.
A pop slices the struggling silence in the room when he pulls back, and you find how at the pressure of keeping quiet, his praise heightens your need by a tenfold. “So good for me baby.” His words fall sweetly from his lips, lashes fluttering as he looks up to you and you nod in agreement, hips writhing as an attempt to get him back to what he was doing.
“Think you can hold those pretty sounds as you cum on my tongue.” Your boyfriend says next, dropping a string of kisses on your inner thigh, taking the opportunity to dig his teeth on your skin as if pushing you to the edge and see how much you can take until you break your silence.
You nod frantically, your eyes closed, teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip only letting the tiniest hum of confirmation spill. And you’re sure Matty smirks again before he moves back to your core, only giving you a few seconds of teasing when his hot breath hits your core and you squirm at the feeling.
His wet and bold tongue comes to meet your dripping centre and it’s a blinding feeling of relief and tightening pleasure that just promises to drive you insane. You’re almost holding your breath so that you don’t make a noise but the faster he becomes in his movements on your clit, the more you fail. Your breath grows heavy and it starts leaving you in gasps, hands clawing at the sheets of the bed so tightly so you don’t let your whines slip past your lips.
Senses go into overdrive, all you can see is white behind your eyelids but your ears are catching so well the wet sounds of his mouth on your slick cunt. Your hips become erratic when the coil in the pit of your stomach tightens to an eye-watering degree.
All he can think of as he watches you writhe beneath him is the word mine. He watches his stunning girlfriend losing her mind at the way his tongue moves. He can't help but stare at the way his girlfriend’s chest rapidly rises and falls as he can see the way her hard nipples stand against the fabric of his top before you use your free hand to tease yourself. You’re all his and Matty forces himself to commit the moment to memory, banking it up for another inevitable lonely tour night when you won't be able to join him.
A breathy and desperate, “Matty, f-fuck,” reaches his ears and, along with your shaking legs and your white knuckle grip on the sheets, it lets him know you’re about to let go. So he hums, encouraging you to give it all to him. And the vibration of it is just what you needed for that tension to snap.
Matty can’t tear his eyes away as you cum on his tongue, your flushed chest heaving as your breaths become messy and your back arches. The taste of you mixed with the sight of you makes him grind his hips harder into his bed, needing that slight bit of stimulation himself.
You come down with a few gasps at the feeling of his tongue still teasing you, sore fingers letting go of the bedding to tug on his curls and pull him away. He looks up, a devilish grin plastered on his face showing he’s proud of what he’s achieved before he dips back down, cleaning up the mess he’s made.
The tight grasp you have on his hair doesn’t deter him, if only it encourages him and you’re left focusing on not making noise instead. You’re biting your tongue so hard just so you don’t make a loud noise but you’re struggling a lot so you just beg, “Matty, please,” as you tug on his locks once more and thankfully he listens.
You pull on his curls until he moves with you and he crawls back up your body. It’s a messy kiss you pull him into, tasting yourself on his tongue has you whining and wanting more of him.
Matty rocks himself into you a few times and the friction of it on your overstimulated clit has you gasping. He’s hard, probably enough for it to begin to be painful, so you break your kiss to ask him, “Do you want me to give you head?”
He kisses you again, his hips grinding against you again, and when you groan he kisses your neck he whispers, “I want to be inside you.”
God, you really want that too, but you know you can’t. “No.” You shake your head.
Matty chuckles, pulling up to ask with a grin of disbelief, as if he can’t feel how wet you’ve already got again through his pants. He teases, “You don’t want to shag me baby?”
He kisses down your neck, bruising his way down your skin drawing short moans out of you as you pull on his hair, wanting him to continue. But then you remember where you are, “Matty, everyone’s gonna hear.”
You only just kept quiet as he was giving you head. You’re going to be absolutely done for if he fucks you too.
“Not if you trust me.” Matty locks eyes with you as he asks, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” You nod, not trusting anyone more than him at this point.
He grins, pulling on your top a little, “Take this off for me then baby.”
You do as you're told and strip off your top as Matty sheds himself of his clothes. He dumps his tie and his shirt where he was previously lay beside you before getting up to pull his pants and underwear down.
Pressing your thighs together when you see just how hard you’ve made your boyfriend is little relief. Matty’s busy gawking at your body though, aching even more than he was without his restrictive clothing. He pumps himself twice, his breath catching as he does but he can’t stop when he looks at you lying on his bed like that.
Your boyfriend goes to move back to the bed but you shake your head, telling him, “Condom.”
“Thought we scrapped those?” He asks with a curious smile.
You tell him sternly, “I’m not having us make a mess and look at your Mum's face as we put the sheets in the wash.”
It almost makes Matty chuckle, instead he just smiles, “Okay baby.” before routing in his bag to find one.
Matty puts it on with ease before he finds his home perched back between your legs. And considering you ‘didn’t want him to fuck you’, he almost finds it comical how desperate you’re looking beneath him right now.
Your boyfriend kisses you deeply again, you can still taste yourself on his tongue and that along with the way he holds your jaw has you moaning against those sinful lips of his.
The kiss only gets messier as it goes, your hands desperately clutching onto him as he presses himself on you. The heaviness of his cock presses and rubs on your clit as his hips move, in a desperate attempt to chase your second orgasm, you move your hips in tune and it just feels too good for your mind to remember you’re supposed to be quiet.
He chuckles against your lips before he pulls away completely, his hips pulling away as well make you whine at the loss of the delicious friction. But you peel your eyes open to see what he’s doing, thinking that he’s doing this to edge you.
You watch as Matty reaches to the side and you see him grab his tie. He wraps it over the knot that's already in it a few times which makes you ask, “What are you doing?”
“Keeping you quiet.” Your boyfriend smirks, “Open.”
Your stomach drops, realising what that means, and you do as you're told. Matty sees the way your eyes get that little bit darker as he puts his tie in your mouth.
When he comes back close to you, pressing himself against you again, he watches your teeth digging into the fabric in your mouth, a moan being muffled by the tie so he smirks seeing that it works.
“Good girl.” Matty praises you, leaning in to have his face hover above yours and watch every little detail on your face as he finally goes to fill you up.
His right hand goes down to guide himself to your centre, teasing your clit by rubbing it with the tip of his cock which elicits a mewl that’s drowned by the fabric on your mouth. He’s enjoying it far too much, the visual of you gagged underneath him and almost desperate to have him inside you makes Matty impossibly hard.
Slowly he stretches you out, biting on his bottom lip as he goes further and when he feels your nails scratching his back as he bottoms out, Matty grabs your arms and pins your wrists over your head. He crosses them so he can keep them in place with his left hand but before he starts moving, he asks for confirmation that you’re not uncomfortable with what he’s just done, “This okay baby?”
Your hasty nodding is entirely amusing to him, he loves seeing you surrendered to him like this. He pulls his hips back the furthest he can without completely exiting you and in a strong swift movement, he bottoms out again.
Slow and hard, that’s the pace he sets and it has your eyes rolling back in pleasure. You had never been gagged before but you find yourself really enjoying it, the thrill of having to have your mouth stuffed with his tie not to get caught has you even more turned on. And adding your hands being pinned over your head as your boyfriend pounds into you, is enough to have you a mess of muffled moans and whines.
Just thinking of the situation has you clenching hard around him and he doesn’t let it go unnoticed, “Oh you like this?” Matty smirks, “Such a whore, aren’t you?”
He feels your thighs tighten around his hips, clearly enjoying being called a whore and it makes his smirk more prominent. His eyes are full of lust as he asks, “Just want me to ruin you, is that right?”
Nodding desperately, you need everything from him now. Your hips buck at him when he does that and you whine a little on the material keeping you quiet. Matty kisses your neck a few times then, and you can feel his smirk, clearly loving having you exactly at his mercy. And you can’t even pretend you’re not loving it either.
“Fuck baby.” Your boyfriend heavily breathes, his eyes darkening that little bit more feeling just how tight you are wrapped around him. “You look so good. Feel fucking amazing.”
He fucks into you mercilessly, quickly finding the angle that has you almost thrashing beneath him and he knows he’s found your g spot. You can’t even meet his thrusts anymore, the knot of pleasure in your lower stomach is almost too much and the blinding heat that stirs inside you has you biting hard on his tie.
Your eyes screw shut and head throws back further into the pillow as he continues whispering vulgar things about how he loves having you like this into your ear and teasing you about just how much you’re enjoying it.
“Come on baby, I can feel you’re close. Cum for me.” Matty says as he kisses just under your ear, biting your earlobe and dragging between his teeth before sucking on the part of your neck that he knows makes you weak. “Please baby, be a good girl and let go for me.”
And it doesn’t take much more than the promise of praise and his hips meeting yours over and over to have you finishing. It hits you and it’s like a blinding white heat runs up your body and takes over your senses.
Matty watches you orgasm beneath him, entirely awestruck at the way you lose yourself. It’s lucky he gagged you because you moan loudly as your high takes over and he can only manage a few more thrusts with how tightly you’re clenching around him.
It’s only seconds before he cums too, filling the condom and moaning down your ear which adds to your own orgasm tenfold. He fucks into you a few more times to drag out the pleasure running through you both before he slows and settles himself, freeing your wrists and pulling his tie from your mouth as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.
Your arms fall down over his shoulders, entirely weak just like your body feels but you let your fingers run back into his hair when he lifts himself back up looking at you like he’s drunk. You giggle a little before you kiss him and it’s the sweetest sensation after being fucked by him.
Matty grins when he pulls away, and you giggle at each other before Matty leans down and gives you a little eskimo kiss, before again admitting, “I’m obsessed with you.”
Your heart is so full, you don't even hesitate to say back, “Obsessed with you too baby.”
Matty blushes at that which makes you giggle again and you pull on his hair so he comes back for one last kiss. After that you both decide a shower is in order and as Matty disposes of the condom and goes and grabs the both of you a towel, he embarrasses you.
“We’ll have to sneak out tomorrow morning.” He tells you with a small grin on his face.
You ask curiously, “Why?”
“Because that tie did nothing, you were so loud.” Matty tells you, his smile full now.
Your jaw drops at that, thinking back over it and you frown, “No I wasn’t.”
He starts chuckling, disagreeing with you in jest, “So loud baby.”
He just wants to make you sweat a little. You were fine and he knows for certain no one will have heard anything, he just loves getting you flustered.
“I wasn’t, you cheeky sod.” You whine trying your best not to smile and fake annoyance. You pick his tie up and throw it at him as you say, “You’re not all that Healy.”
He laughs, batting the tie away with ease but he tilts his head and narrows his eyes a little, “You say that, but I just gave you two orgasms.”
“And?” You shake your head, letting him know he isn’t god's gift, “So does my vibrator.”
Matty can’t help but think touche, but he opts to tease you instead, “And that's a show I’d definitely like to watch one day.”
Instantly, your face flames and you start glitching. You stumble trying to come up with some backchat but no coherent words form and the moment for you to be slick passes, so you just end up waving for him to leave, “Go and get me a towel, you twat.”
Matty cackles as he leaves the room doing as he's told. Before the both of you know it, you’re in the shower together and even though it should be steamy and hot, it’s probably one of the cutest things either of you have done together.
You’re both giggling and then catching yourselves, mostly you shushing the both of you, as you don’t want to be found out. But despite the both of you not making it interesting in a sinful way, you end up washing the other's hair.
It started with you shampooing his hair, and when it foamed up and his hair went stiff you couldn’t help but giggle when you morphed it into a mohawk. You joke about him looking good until he threatens to cut his curls to bring his mohawk back and you decline his offer with a look that screamed that you would kill him if he did. You tell him not to touch those curls of his.
And when you carry on giggling as you mould his hair into different shapes before you let him rinse it out, Matty can’t help but get a little in his head about everything as he admires you and giggles along.
If society didn’t deem that the two of you were far too early on in your relationship, Matty would get on one knee here and now and properly propose to you because he just genuinely can’t think of anyone better for him. You’re perfect, and the fact you get on like you’ve forever been the best of friends but also have an amazing relationship is the entire package for him.
It might be far too soon, but when you know you know. And Matty has never felt this way so intensely about someone for such a long time, he’d forgotten how it felt to crumble down inside at the sight of someone he felt so much for just existing. The world feels better and brighter when you’re in his presence and you make his heart ache in a way he now knows he’d missed.
After a shower filled with cute kisses, longing touches, and lots of giggles, the both of you get out and head back to his room to dry off. Even when you put his top back on and both get cosy in bed together and you’re just chatting about where he’s going to show you tomorrow, he just holds you close, thanking his lucky stars you came into his life.
Falling asleep to the sound of the other’s voice promises smiles that stay on your faces for a bit until your slumber switches them into pouts, your arms wrapped around each other and fingers clutching tight as if there was a possibility of one of you evaporating if you dared let your hold run loose, legs tangled together and heavy breaths hitting each other’s skin.
Your heart grows in size when you’re in Matty’s arms and you know just how fast and hard you’re falling for him when your brain deems it not enough to have him present daily in front of you, by your side, for he materialises in your dreams and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Even in your sleep-driven imaginative scenes he manages to make you a mess of grins that reach your eyes, rumble of butterflies filling your stomach, tingling going to every inch of your body.
And waking up, finding him there still, with his curls a mess over the pillow and those lips you love to kiss up in a pout as he continues to breathe slowly in his sleep, makes you almost feel like you’ve somehow managed to hit the jackpot you’ve silently been praying for your whole life.
To find the one.
And you think you’ve found him. You really hope you have.
~*~*~*~
Being shown around the infamous Wilmslow by your boyfriend was one of the highlights of the whole tour for you. You had such a good time, you already can’t wait to go back for a proper stay there.
The both of you slept in a little that morning, coming downstairs to greet everyone else at 11:30 which after your late night it didn’t seem to surprise anyone. Thankfully it seems no one caught on to what happened in Matty’s childhood bedroom because nothing was said and there was no knowing glances or anything.
You all had a cooked breakfast that Denise and Lincoln made which acted as a lovely brunch, satisfying your hunger for most of your day out. After you all finished your meal and chatting, Matty decided he was showing you around for the day which you were more than happy with.
Denise throwing her suggestions in for where to take you really made you giggle, Matty sighing at a few of them as he was already going to take you there but she apparently ruined the surprise. But you loved that she told him to take you to where he used to work because that did give you a giggle.
Matty gave you the bigger tour first, opting to take the car to show you his and the boys' old high school and he told you so many stories about the shit they all got up to back in the day. You would pay so much money to be a fly on the wall back then and experience it like a film playing out to you.
He showed you his old house that he lived in before he was a teenager, and on the drive he pointed out the other boys' childhood homes, telling you Adam’s house felt like a second home to him and that his Mum, Sue, always felt like his second Mum.
Your journey ends with him taking you to Carrs park where the both of you have a nice long walk together, sharing stories and walking hand in hand as you find out more about each other. Matty tells you of the summers that he and the boys used to come down to the park all the time and on hot days they would mess about in the river.
He tells you about when Flo would come over for summers to stay with Adam in Manchester instead of staying in Sheffield, and about how she apparently always preferred her Aunt and Uncle’s home over her own. That he taught her how to skateboard at the skate park that was also in the park which he showed you and you made him promise that in the summer he would bring you back and show you his skills.
You both walk around the park for just over an hour before you head back to the car, and Matty continues with his tour. This time he parks up just off Wilmslow highstreet and you walk down with him.
He shows you The Rex cinema which if you both had more time here he would have taken you to see a film but he promises to bring you back for a date night. To make up for it, he takes you a few doors further down and buys you a few cocktails in Revs, your favourite being the Mean Girl one that comes with a post-it note pegged onto the glass that says ‘So Fetch’.
Matty ends up having a few drinks too and it’s only after you’ve both had two cocktails and 3 flavoured shots each that he realises you both drove here. Thankfully that gets quickly resolved by him phoning his brother and he promises Louis that if he comes to drive you both back, he will buy him a bottle of vodka and pay for his taxi from home to the car later.
Whilst in Revs, you spot a photobooth and after how cute the last ones were, you can’t resist doing another one. These pictures turn out to be extremely coupley, but you blame that on being tipsy and loving your boyfriend's lips on your own. The print was black and white and the camera captured your kisses, giggles, and funny faces and you download the digital version instantly so you can put the cutest one as your lock screen.
You go on your merry way after another few drinks, Matty walking you further up the highstreet to the big Sainsburys so he can get his brother's alcohol and you can’t help but giggle at the mere sight of it. Even more so now because you’re tipsy.
Matty already knows why you’re laughing, but when you ask him, “Is this the Sainsburys?” and he confirms it is the Sainsburys, you get so excited. As if him mentioning the supermarket in a song makes it a landmark you have to see.
You make him giggle though when you run off in front of him in the shop and only when he catches you up and you scorn him does he understand what you were doing. It’s when you tell him, “No, pretend you don't know me and come flirt with me.” that he can’t stop giggling.
The fact that you’ve gone hours without food meant the alcohol has gotten to you and your tipsy state is hilarious to him. The fact you want to be a girl he flirts with in a Sainsburys is all the more wholesome to him though, at least this time he knows he will have an effect on you because it’s so easy to make you putty in his hands.
He does the little roleplay you desired and he loves the way you’re grinning at him, even though the pick up line he used was utter shit, he can tell you’re all flustered. And you only get worse when he breaks the charade and whispers other explicit things in your ear of what he would like to do to and with you and you have to push him away from you, the proximity too much to bear when he gets you too embarrassed and worked up.
You can just about look at him again when you leave the supermarket and he grabs you hand as he continues to show you the last few things on his tour of his home. He walks you back down the highstreet, this time on the other side of the road to let you have a nosy at the shops, before walking straight over the road.
He takes you to his Caffe Nero where he used to work and the both of you get a coffee, in hopes to make the both of you less tipsy, before he walks you down to the Chinese he used to work at as a delivery driver. After a quick conversation, you and Matty decide you want something from there for your dinner, so he quickly phones his family to see if they want anything too.
Turns out they do, and after placing a big order with them, Louis comes and meets you to drive the both of you back to their home and you all have a big family meal. The vodka that was bought is cracked open almost immediately and the three of you end up having drinks together while Denise and Lincoln make themselves a mocktail pitcher to share as you all chat about everything and nothing.
Never have you felt so at ease in the presence of your partner's family, especially the first real time you’ve spent with any of them. Maybe it’s because they're northern, or maybe it is just because they are fantastic people but you’ve never felt so welcome in your life and you’re so thankful for them.
You even get told funny stories about when Matty was little, and your favourite anecdote about him is that when he was really little he had a lisp. You start teasing him and saying odd words mocking a lisp and your boyfriend pretends to be unamused, but it gets even funnier when you and Louis start doing it together. Denise and Lincoln cackled as Matty was getting more and more annoyed, but thankfully a kiss to the cheek appeased him when you got up to get you both another drink.
The family's kindness really makes you not want to leave, and you really will reluctantly do so tomorrow morning. Even more so when Denise hugs you so tightly before she heads up to bed and she thanks you for coming to stay and for such a lovely evening, and she makes you almost tear up when she tells you how much of a good fit she thinks you are for her son and how welcome you are to their family.
She calls you the daughter she never had and it makes you get a little lump in your throat and you just squeeze her tighter before thanking her again for being so hospitable to you. You’ve had such a good time, you drag the night out, trying to stop yourself from getting tired even when you and Matty head back upstairs to bed.
Matty knows what you’re doing and he finds it adorable but he reminds you that you’re too much of a Grandma to try and stay up late for two nights on the trot. As soon as he gets you changed into his top and your head hits his pillows, your eyes close and Matty laughs at the effort it seems to be taking you to reopen them.
So you don’t have to, Matty just sheds off his clothes down to his underwear and he gets in bed beside you after flicking the lamp off, but he practically lays on top of you wanting you to cuddle him. Even when you're falling asleep you don’t fail to root your fingers into his curls and you hum in satisfaction as you play with his hair for a few minutes, but as soon as you stop scratching his scalp, he knows you’re asleep.
But he doesn’t follow you, instead he stays up for a little while longer and he moves back just a little so his eyes can go over every inch of your face. He wills himself to learn every detail of your face by heart, almost counting the freckles scattered on your skin as if that was a piece of information he had to live by, as if he had to look for constellations in the sky that resembled them as closely as possible just so he could feel you near when he eventually goes away.
Matty doesn’t realise he’s brought his hand up to your face until you squirm under the touch of his fingers grazing your cheekbones softly. He stills at your sudden movement but his smile grows on his face when you end up humming, like you're encouraging him to continue as you fall deeper into your slumber.
Your growing warmth beneath him and the sound of your hums lull him to sleep, blissfully pressing his head on the pillow after he’s dropped a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and trying his hardest to continue looking at your gorgeous sleepy face for as long as his tired eyes allow him.
Even when his eyes manage to close and it’s too hard to peel them open again, he can see you burned into his eyelids and on the forefront of his mind is every moment he’s gotten to share with you today and these past few days of tour.
Selfishly, he wishes for them to never end. If there’s one thing he would do anything to have is you beside him all the time.
Please, he says in his head and he hopes whoever can grant him that wish is listening.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The next tour stop is Nottingham and driving down there after being in the lads’ hometown is enlightening. It seems like being in their hometown, even if it’s just for a day, fills them up with a surge of energy that had been wearing down throughout the past few months they’ve spent on the road.
So of course, the time it takes you to get there is spent between them all going about the lounge taking the piss at each other and smoking, fighting over the most mundane opinions and even over a chocolate bar they found hidden away in the shelves.
The argument of who deserves to have the chocolate has been going on for over 10 minutes, everyone proposing their reasoning and it is growing more and more ridiculous by the minute. They keep making fun of each other's excuses and loudly counter proposing something that backs themselves up.
“It’s just chocolate, break it into pieces for everyone to have some.” Adam sighs in response to the bickering that keeps growing in volume which mixed with the few hours of sleep he’s had, is threatening to cause him a headache.
“No, that’s not fun.” Ross scowls at him like he’s a buzzkill for being the voice of reason in this debate. Instead, a cruel and fun way to get people to fight over the last chocolate comes to his mind and he smirks as his gaze sweeps everyone in the room. “Who has the saddest story?”
George’s huff in annoyance is loud and it makes you think that this is definitely not the first time a play like this has come about to settle an argument. Still, you frown and ask, “What?” confused at the random prompt.
But your boyfriend answers before Ross can, “It's a game we play, we give a different condition for a story each time to see who wins what we’re short of. This time the saddest story wins the chocolate.”
Your hesitant nod seems to be the only confirmation Ross needed, as if you were the one calling the shots this time to he places the chocolate back inside the cupboard and sits back in the booth to close call out who’s staring with their anecdote.
The first to go is George who talks about how his childhood dog died and though you find it tragic, the guys just roll their eyes and ask for the next one because they’d heard it way too many times before.
The rest of the band follows along, Adam refusing to participate because he finds it pointless and Matty skipping just because he’s fine being a spectator. Polly’s anecdote makes you pout as you listen to her and you end up giving her a little hand squeeze when she’s done. And then it’s your turn.
“Y/N?” Ross raises his eyebrows at you, a challenging look as if he’s entirely sure you don’t stand a chance to win this.
But you surprise him when you straighten in your seat, roll your shoulders and sigh heavily to prepare yourself mentally, knowing you’re so taking the chocolate for yourself.
“I’m playing to win this, okay?” Is your hint of a warning of what’s to come but no one really takes it that seriously.
“Oh go on then, doubt you can beat Polly’s.” Matty taunts this time, a giggle almost weaving through his words.
You shrug, not really giving into the teasing of his words and you start your story, “Okay so this was about five years ago, I was at a party of sorts with my ex. For context I was with him for over three years, we were really happy and I loved this person right.” You almost laugh at the memory, just because of how pathetic it had made you feel for so long until you realised you were far better off.
Clearing your throat, you continue, “Then we go to this party but it's just like at his mates house and we're all there chatting outside around the fire pit and then the question gets asked, ‘where do you see yourself in twenty years’ so each of us go round answering. Everyone mentions kids, marriage, dream jobs, blah blah blah…”
You wave your hand to diminish the importance of what was said and they watch as the corners of your lips twitch in amusement, “So I go and I say everything I hope for, that I want to be happy, have my own house which I share with the person I love, as I'm holding hands with my ex.” Your eyes catch everyone looking attentively at you, waiting for you to continue, “Whatever, I carry on talking about having my own family and everyone is smiling and loving my answer but then my ex has his go.”
You take a deep breath before you go on with the worst part of your anecdote, “My ex said, ‘In twenty years I think I'm still going to be trying to find the girl of my dreams’.”
At that, you hear everyone gasping and when you let your eyes go up to see the group of people around you, you catch a few with their hands covering their mouths and a few just freely letting you see they’re jaw dropped.
What you don’t get to see is the way your boyfriend’s face has fallen completely, his heart sinking to the deepest pit of his stomach and he genuinely feels sick knowing someone had the audacity to say that. It feels like something clicks as to why you were so insecure when it came to you thinking he was ‘settling’ for you after hearing that.
But you’re not quite done yet, chuckling a bit at their reactions, you brush a strand of hair behind your ear and add, “And he didn't just leave it there. He went on to elaborate on what he was looking for. And just like all of you, all of his friends went deadly silent and were just looking at the two of us. I went entirely numb for a minute, but in that time I somehow managed to say, ‘hope you find her’ in the most monotone voice and got up and left.”
A few beats of silence pass, everyone too astounded to even find out what was correct to say in such a situation.
Until Ross breaks it with a simple, “That’s fucking brutal.” which makes you snort out in laughter.
“I know. Can I have that chocolate now?” You extend your hand out for him to give you the prize, you know no one will dare to disagree that your story was the saddest.
And he nods, “Absolutely, fucking hell.”
You watch as the bassist gets the chocolate from the cupboard and gives it to you, and after thanking him softly, you notice the way everyone is still silent, so you turn to them and call them out for it, “Okay, everyone lighten up, it’s been a while since then.”
Thankfully the mood lightens after you win their game, things move on when people get various phone calls and you start concentrating on your phones and what’s on the TV again. Your past doesn’t plague your mind in the slightest as you’ve already buried that away with a nice little bow of trauma securing it away, and you have no intention of letting it get you upset any longer than it did a few years back. It was most definitely his loss anyway and you’re doing miles better for yourself these days.
You move on quite quickly, forgetting about it minutes after everyone went back to normal and you were more sidetracked with baby Hann and the chats you were having with Carly. But Matty couldn’t get it out of his head.
He found that his heart still felt like it had been beaten to a pulp for you. It hurt him a lot hearing how someone who you let yourself be vulnerable with and who you opened your heart to, said something so awful and completely disregarded your relationship like it was nothing.
God knows if someone said that to him it would never not plague his thoughts or have a permanent sinking feeling in his chest. He can’t help but think just how strong you are to have got through something like that and to be as happy and bubbly as you are now.
Since meeting you and getting to know you properly, Matty has always found himself incredibly lucky to easily make you smile or laugh that he can’t imagine ever saying anything so horrible to you. It makes him want to cherish you even more, to protect you from anyone who could be so cruel and hold you closer and tighter than ever.
Which is what he ended up doing. He didn’t bring it up until you were alone that night in the back lounge of the bus just after the last few others had disappeared off to bed.
You’d not long since had a call with Amelia and your manager that started off as business related and as soon as your manager bid you goodbye, you had a good catch up with your best friend. You’ve probably not gone this long without seeing her for a while and you were both getting withdrawal symptoms so you definitely enjoyed your chat with her.
You were equally excited to get back to the fun conversations that always filled the bus, but you weren’t surprised that it was only George and Matty that were coherently talking when you went back to socialise. Turns out you’d been chatting to your best friend for the best part of 3 hours and it was nearing 11pm and with it being an off day everyone was lazy and heading to bed early which you don’t blame them for.
This tour and your boyfriend have really fucked with your sleeping pattern, a month ago you would be tired at this time but now you rarely get tired until 2am. But it meant more time being in Matty’s presence and cuddling up to him awake in his bunk where you talk about anything that comes to mind until you eventually drift off so you don’t mind in the slightest.
Even now after George has just headed off to bed, you just find yourself relaxing in your boyfriends hold that little bit more as you pay attention to the BBC Three show that’s playing silently on the TV. Or that is until your boyfriend gets your attention again.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Matty whispers in your ear, a kiss being pressed on your cheek right after and his fingers clutching your waist tightly like you could be taken away from him if he wasn’t cautious.
You let your head rest on his shoulder so you can look up at him and in slight confusion, you ask him, “What?”
“With your ex. I’m sorry he did that. It was awful to hear and that’s not a par on what it must’ve felt like.” His fingers rub circles on your waist, under your shirt so his touch is warm and soothing on your skin.
Turning in his hold, your arms go around his shoulder and your fingers play with the short curls at the nape of his neck as you shake your head, “Oh no, it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay at all.” His eyes are wide, there’s no way he’ll ever come to terms with the fact that you had to go through something like that.
You sigh a bit heavily, because you know he’s right but it’s been so long since then and it has led you to where you are now so you have no complaints. Your nails scratch softly at his scalp, “I know, but I’m glad with the way everything has worked out.”
Softly, like he’s scared it will set something off that you won’t like, Matty asks, “Was he the guy who you last went out with?”
You nod, “He was the last guy, yeah. I met a girl a year after and we were together about eight months but she kept getting jealous of the dates I was going on and the flirting yet she also wanted me to take her to the dates with me so she could meet the celebs and it all just ended in a big argument so I just decided I was done.” His face is screwed up in a frown that lets you know how he finds that, and you give him a side smile as if agreeing on how bad that was.
“Everyone after her has been one night things which were hit and miss but I’d convinced myself I was better off alone anyway.” It’s easy for you to be honest about this all with him, so you continue, “No one was gonna get it and I’d sort of come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going to find anything again.” and it’s even easier to let him know how it all changed, “Until you.”
You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist as he breathlessly asks, “Me?”
And a giggle escapes you when you reassure that’s exactly what you meant, “Yeah, you.”
“What changed?” One of his hands comes up to lift your chin up slightly, fingertips slowly dragging down your jaw and the softness of his touch makes you lean into it.
“Well for a start I was never going to turn down another date with you.” Your lips purse as you try not to smile embarrassedly at your admission, “But then you came round to mine and you were the sweetest. You hugged me when I got upset at your album, you came round and surprised me and bought me a Christmas present.”
Your heart swells in your chest as you remember, your eyes stay on his and you find yourself wanting to forever be under his gaze because it just has goosebumps erupting on your skin, heat rising up to your cheeks and a tingling hitting every corner of your being, “You make me nervous, and I’ve not felt nervous talking to someone in the longest time, I missed that.”
There’s a need to clear up your words when you realise it could come across wrongly, “But I wasn’t nervous because you’re the lead singer of my favourite band. I was nervous because of you.” His delicate smile reaches his eyes, those crinkles you’ve grown to love showing just how happy your words are making him and he continues his delicate tracing of your features as you add, “The things you do when you talk to me, when you smile at me or smirk at me. You make me the best kind of nervous.”
His thumb teasingly runs across your bottom lip, your breath hitches in your throat and you hold it there until his finger runs down to press on your chin softly, “I still make you nervous?”
“All the time.” It comes out in a whisper but it’s wholehearted because it’s the actual truth, “I love it when you’re not actively trying to make me flustered.” That’s a bit of a white lie, because you do love it when he teases you even though he makes it so hard for you not to be embarrassed by it in public.
Matty pouts slightly, “But seeing you flustered is how I know it’s all working.”
He makes himself sound so innocent like that, you roll your eyes in fake annoyance, “Yeah, yeah. You just love watching me squirm, I know.”
And then that smirk you love breaks on his face and it all comes together when he chats back, “Love watching you do more than squirm.”
It makes you so incredibly giddy, he can definitely feel the heat growing on your face at his words, “Yeah I sure know you do, you little shit.” You narrow your eyes, an attempt to appear menacing.
He snickers at your effort, offering you an eye roll and a sassy, “Oh but you love it.” as a response.
“I do.” You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as you agree. There’s no need to keep anything to yourself anymore, you think, and how liberating is it that you can just cup his face and pull him in for a sweet kiss to show him just how much you adore him.
Your tongue teases his bottom lip and he lets your tongues meet without a second of doubt, he hums when he tastes you and you hum back to let him know how much you enjoy this. It is so easy letting time pass when your lips are moving with each other, your fingers clutching each other tightly and oxygen be damned for your one priority is showing what you feel through your kiss.
You pull back panting when you can no longer kiss without feeling like you’re gonna pass out from lack of oxygen in your lungs and he takes the opportunity to bring back what started it all, “I’m sorry he made you feel like you weren’t enough.”
“Thank you for making me feel like I am.” Your head tilts as you say, doe eyes almost sparkling at him like a love sick puppy for him.
You swear it was impossible to feel stronger for him until he nudges your nose with his and your lips brush together as he says, “You’re more than enough, baby. I’m the luckiest to have you.”
All you can do is press your lips against his but before you can deepen the kiss, you’re pulling back enough to look at him deep in the eyes and let him know once again, “Obsessed with you.”
Matty experiences something new every minute he spends with you, he swears, because it’s so incredible the way his heart easily swells in his chest with everything you do and say. It’s so easy for him to reciprocate, almost painful to keep it in that he’s, “Obsessed with you too.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
The Nottingham show was nothing short of incredible. As per usual the boys gave their absolute best and delivered a gig that you know for a fact people wouldn’t forget (you know the feeling far too well of wanting to go back in time to experience their shows over and over again throughout the years) and Matty’s interactions with the audience made you laugh as per usual. Especially when he gave them four songs to choose from and even after Paris lost to Menswear, he decided to still play Paris after it.
Your note being, I certainly like you better when you take off your clothes ;) x that night assured that he went absolutely unhinged for you on stage during Too Shy. You found yourself sweating at his intent hip movements as his eyes swam through the crowd in search of you, winking your way when he found you and you had to hide behind your hands all flustered while the girls around you squealed, entirely unaware of your presence and thinking it was meant for them.
Leeds comes next and you have the best time too, especially when he opens your note and cackles loudly when he reads, Drive Like I Do, when? instead of a cute note like he had been expecting.
He surprises you when Robbers comes on and he sings the climax of the song in the style of the Drive Like I Do version of the song. You scream so loud at that, joining the crowd's cheers and when the next song starts, you’re left feeling all gooey inside at the fact that the littlest things you can mention will end up in him trying to appease your wishes.
Newcastle is entirely shocking to you. You were excited to be there, especially since Matty mentioned Tim would be attending and you’d finally be able to meet him, but you’re absolutely not ready for the surprise you got once you got to the venue.
It had been slightly hectic, since people were swarming the place so you had to sneak into the venue almost being shielded by George and Ross’ big frames as you hid in a massive hoodie and some glasses to try and keep your identity hidden.
You find yourself shaking in anticipation as you’re walking between George and Ross on your way to the greenroom, trying to have a pep talk in your mind so that you calm yourself down about the prospect of meeting your boyfriend’s Dad.
Of course the lads caught onto your shaking hands that you were wiping on top of your hoodie, Ross teased you for being nervous but George assured you it’d be alright. So you settle a bit, slowly coming to terms with it and preparing yourself to offer Tim a smile as soon as you step through the door of the greenroom.
But when you get there and see that Lewis fucking Capaldi is there, you can’t help but let out a squeal of excitement. The Scottish legend who in a few months you know you already have a date booked in with, makes you so excited. You run to hug him hello and he’s equally excited to see you there.
Tim makes you cackle when he says, “I’ll be offended if I don’t get hugged just as enthusiastically.” behind you and you let go of Lewis to greet the comedic legend. You’re glad your reaction to Lewis’ presence served as an ice breaker because then the conversation with Matty’s Dad flows easily and you find yourself laughing at the fact that you were so nervous about meeting him when he’s an absolute sweetheart.
Spending the day in Lewis’ company is as funny as you could’ve imagined and the filming of him taking the piss out of what Matty does on stage makes you cackle laughing. Thankfully with the other singer distracting your boyfriend, you could easily sneak your note into his pocket today, and you felt quite proud of that one.
That night you stay back behind the stage to watch the show (the crew gave you some in-ears so you could still hear everything the way that you would if you were in the main bit of the arena). Tonight your note was Obsessed with you and everything but Newcastle aren’t winning the cup baby xoxoxo and when the camera shows Matty snorting at it and shaking his head, pocketting it again before grabbing his acoustic guitar, it made you giggle and when Lewis asked you about it and you told him, he started laughing too.
This had all come about because like George had been roped into supporting Newcastle United by his best friend, you had been dragged in to support Manchester United because that’s Amelia’s football team. Yesterday was the first leg of Newcastle's semi-final in the Carabao Cup which you all watched and you were happy for Matty that they won 1-0, but tonight was Manchester United’s first semi-final match and you had a good feeling your team was going to win. Regardless though, you did think that you would end up playing your boyfriend’s team in the final, and you can’t let him get too comfortable so you kept teasing him yesterday saying regardless of if they win, Manchester United will beat Newcastle.
The show moved on quickly, and it wasn’t a surprise that you started tearing up when Tim goes on stage to sing All I Need To Hear and you’re glad you’re right next to Lewis because he makes you laugh when he makes a joke about how the band would be more successful if Tim replaced Matty.
When it’s time for Lewis to go on stage, you’re left alone until your boyfriend surprises you with his presence after he quickly got changed and the rest of the band tagged along so you all could watch Lewis together.
Of course you lot piss yourselves laughing when people go absolutely mad when the text Special guest: Harry Styles comes on the screen and then it only grows louder once the door opens, but to their disappointment it’s not the Watermelon singing man.
Lewis makes it funnier when he waves at everyone, laughter can be heard from the crowd and it grows louder when he walks up to the mic and says, “My name is Harry Styles and it’s good to be here. I know what you’re thinking; ‘He looks different. He sounds different’.” And with one last adjusting of his guitar strap, he adds, “But make no mistake I am Harry Styles.”
But your amusement dies in your throat in a split second when he starts strumming on his guitar and he starts a song you have been dying to hear for far too long.
If anyone told you a few months ago that you’d be hearing Antichrist be performed live at a The 1975 concert for the first time by Lewis Capaldi, you would’ve thought it to be the most far-fetched joke anyone could come up with. But here you were, already crying at Lewis singing the first line to a song you’ve waited so long to hear in concert.
Matty doesn’t realise how bad your state is until Lewis sings, “Is it the same for you?” and you shake with the sob that rips through you. The visuals on the big screens were making him laugh and he assumed your soft shaking was just a product of your laughter, the sound being drowned by the loudness of the crowd singing along. He’s entirely taken aback by your reaction and in instinct he wraps his arms around you from behind you.
He hears you tearfully but softly singing the next verse but you fully let your broken voice rumble with the crowd for the third verse.
The buildup to the bridge starts and they lads take a few seconds of silence to clock onto your state and giggle. They didn’t expect you to have such a reaction to Lewis singing the song, and Ross is a cheeky bitch so he points it out.
“This is exactly why we’re never doing this song.” If you’re crying this hard then the bassist wouldn’t want to imagine how badly the people in the crowd were looking.
You don’t even allow yourself to form a proper answer and instead you let the song dramatically reply to him. You point your finger at him and George who is right beside him and belt out the bridge almost entirely enraged at what he’s just had the cheek to say.
But that doesn’t appear menacing to them, George and Ross laugh and you can feel Matty’s chest shaking with laughter behind you. Even Adam was giggling away at your emotion and it was only making you sob harder as you sang. You don’t even have the mind to think about how embarrassing this might be when you look back because you’re completely overcome by emotion.
They’re not done taking the piss out of you when the song is over, and you’re left shaking your head at their jokes whilst you wipe the tears off your face, Matty’s lips pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder but you feel his breath hit your skin whenever he laughs at any of the guys’ quips.
Lewis announcing, “I was going to sing one of my songs next, but I thought it would just be better to play a Taylor Swift song.” has you gasping way too loud, interrupting another joke Ross was about to make at your expense but your reaction to the Scots’ introduction of the second song is enough to earn you a round of cackles.
George is louder this time and his giggles are so contagious you find yourself laughing with them, that is until Lewis starts singing the Taylor song you’ve loved so much since you were a teenager and the waterworks start again.
It is all such a mix of emotions, you can’t help the tears streaming down your face. It’s the song being played right after Antichrist, it’s the feeling of Matty’s arms wrapped tightly around you and how he sings it softly to you in your ear. You’re purposely keeping your volume to a decent point so you can hear your boyfriend singing it to you.
If he wasn’t holding you, you would’ve melted and died on the spot. Your legs feel wobbly from the crazy storm of butterflies fluttering inside your stomach and there’s a burning heat that runs through your veins that melts your insides.
“You alright baby?” Matty asks you softly when the song is over, brows furrowed as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
You nod softly, just letting your tears run down your cheeks until they stop but he’s on the task in a matter of seconds. He stands before you, hands cupping your jaw and thumbs swiping at the tears staining your skin.
Through his in-ears he hears they gotta go back on stage in a minute but before he rushes back with the lads, Matty showers your face with pecks. When he reaches your lips though, he can’t help himself and locks your lips in a sweet kiss, one that lasts longer than needed because George is yelling at him they need to go and so is the crew member talking in his in-ears again.
You pull back and push him softly so he can go, and just because you’re feeling better and in a jokey mood now, you give his arse a slap before he’s gone from your side. He looks back at you with a smirk, right as he gets to the door and winks at you. You’re left smiling like an idiot, waiting for the show to continue.
Lewis teases you throughout the rest of the show, at first for crying at what he did but then when Matty did something like wink into the camera or thrust at the audience. The Scot was a big tease and whilst you pretended to hate him for it, you had such a fun evening singing along to the boys with him.
Unfortunately, with there being a show the following day in Liverpool and Lewis heading back out on tour, you couldn’t go out and have a few drinks together that night. But you all bid him goodbye, you give him a hug and tell him that you and Amelia will be seeing him soon.
It felt bittersweet saying goodbye to Tim, but he told you that you had to come back up to Newcastle with Matty as soon as you were free to and he would happily show you around the city properly. Before you even know it, you’re back on the road.
You passed out pretty much as soon as you got on the bus and Matty found you in the bunk fast asleep about 5 minutes after you said you were heading to bed. Just before he climbed in to join you, he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips hoping not to wake you and he was grateful he didn’t disturb you when he cuddled himself into you and slowly fell asleep himself.
Waking up outside the arena in Liverpool was an interesting ordeal. There wasn’t a gated section where the buses could go here so when you and Matty woke up and were hoping to head out for a walk, it was a little difficult because there were fans outside.
So a little plan was devised to combat this, and it was orchestrated and quite literally carried out by George. The drummer suggested that you wrap up in a hoodie and have the hood up and that he would carry you out and into the venue, and people would automatically assume you were Charli and that you were asleep.
The queen of pop had gone back home to London after the Manchester show, along with Carly too but no one but those of you on the tour knew that. So George carrying a girl into the arena seemed like a perfect way to get you in unseen and keep your relationship underwraps.
There was an alternative, that Ross carry you inside in the same way, but as soon as you made a joke of that's a good way of socialising with him more, Matty chipped in quickly and cut that idea off. So it was Matty’s jealousy that decided that you would be carried the 10 metres into the venue by George.
And thankfully it went fine and there were a few fans who made a fuss but George just smiled and kept walking with you in his arms. Your legs were around his waist and your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you hid yourself away into his neck until the metal doors closed.
Once they did, you looked up at George and grinned, he laughed at your grin and smiled back. You couldn’t not tell him as you were in his arms though, “You smell really good.”
“Thanks babe.” The drummer winks, resulting in you immediately becoming flustered.
Matty heard and saw all this, so with a brief look of jealousy and distaste, he nudged his best friend, indicating to put you down. However, the drummer instead smirked, “Nah, she’s mine now mate.”
If that didn’t have you internally choking, the drummer moving his hands to your arse for the briefest few seconds to tease his best mate did. You’re winning at life well and truly, you’re certain you’ll die a happy woman.
After that, George let you return to your feet and you and Matty went about your day. It was quite early and both of you didn’t sleep well really despite falling asleep quickly. The bunk was definitely beginning to get uncomfortable now, so you’re certainly excited to be getting closer to being back in a proper bed.
Matty however, thought ahead and booked the two of you a day room at a nearby hotel which you both walked to after you had a sneaky walk around the docks, thankfully not being recognised by anyone. The room was stunning, and not even because it was fancy, it was just because after not sleeping in a proper bedroom since you were in Manchester it felt like a luxury.
A luxury which both you and Matty tarnished completely because you both did more than sleep in the bed and made most of the time you had alone with no need to worry about being quiet. You both napped after you wore each other out but then you both showered together which ended with both of you on your knees one after another.
After checking out and getting a taxi back to the venue, everything went smoothly. There was even a surprise waiting for you, which may be another best moment of the tour, because thanks to the fan who threw a sausage roll on stage back in Manchester, Greggs have sent the band a PR package.
It’s a glorious sight. 13 hot sausage rolls and a dozen different pasties for you all to feast on before the show. It was amazing and you’ve never seen food disappear so quickly in your life.
After that, you and Matty both greeted Denise and Lincoln who made the trip up to come and watch the show again. You were sticking to being in the pit again tonight and you went out just after Denise said goodbye to the boys.
When you got to the pit, you couldn’t help but laugh when you saw the crowd yelling and waving at Denise who is up at the top of the first tier of seats. She waves to her fans like the true queen she is and before you know it the show starts.
The show is as amazing as it always is and the crowd is as loud as ever. You’re screaming along with all of them, every line to every song at the top of your lungs but your yells of excitement are interrupted the moment the consumption interlude comes and, while everyone is screaming even louder at the sight, you’re speechless in embarrassment.
You’ve never felt such regret for sleeping with your boyfriend before, but when Matty did the consumption interlude that night and he took his shirt off, revealing to the 11 thousand people (Denise and Lincoln included, plus the band and the crew) that you’d scratched his back to shreds earlier. Your jaw dropped when you saw the red marks lining his shoulder blades.
You quite literally consider running away and never showing your face on this tour or to anyone on it afterwards but thankfully the show carries on and after a few songs you manage to forget about it. It’s a shame everyone else doesn’t forget though, because when you head backstage after the set has ended, you get endlessly teased for it.
If that wasn’t bad enough, the day after, the fans figured out that it wasn’t George carrying Charli into the venue in Liverpool. The bright side was that they didn’t know it was you but they found out it wasn't the queen of pop in the drummer’s arms because Charli attended an event at the same time as the gig back in London so the conspiracies went on and on. Twitter seemed to connect the girl in George’s arms as the one who had marked up Matty’s back and they seemed to just take the piss out of Matty for it because he wasn’t strong enough to carry you inside himself.
It made you and George laugh, but your boyfriend not so much. The next day he took every excuse he could to pick you up off the ground whether it was just to prove the point, or just to twirl you around to make you giggle. At one point he gave you a piggyback ride and he ran around the room filled with all the boys in it, even making Jordan take pictures of the two of you.
Jordan sent you both the pictures that night, and one of the pictures that came out where Matty is running but you and him towards Jordan is so funny. In the first, you and your boyfriend are giggling as he's zooming past the camera but you are both grinning line lunatics as you clutch him.
The second one though is your favourite because it was caught just as you lent around over Matty’s shoulder and his head was twisted towards you, and you were both laughing at each other as he held you up. You were fairly certain you kissed him afterwards too just before Matty raced back around the room.
Before any of you knew it, you were on the plane over to Ireland. The night you got there, you stayed in a hotel and with your free day before the next gig and Matty showed you around the sights. You had such a fun day being a tourist and your boyfriend showed you his favourite spots he always tried to come to when he was in Dublin. And to end the night off, you and the rest of the boys all ended up going to a pub where traditional Irish music was being played inside and it was so much fun.
The Dublin show was the second to last date of the tour and everyone had been incredibly excited about it. Of course, it had been a bit sad seeing this leg of the tour coming to an end but it had all gone so well that you felt more like celebrating the conclusion of such an amazing tour than sulking over it being over.
But it wasn’t the nostalgia of seeing the tour ending before your eyes that made the mood come down when you were all gathered in the greenroom at the venue, instead it was Jamie letting Matty know what a certain tabloid was planning on putting out about him on the next day’s paper.
You instantly caught the change in his behaviour and did your best to cheer him up a bit, which thankfully wasn’t that hard because he seemed to have gotten over it when it was time for you to go out into the crowd and him to get on stage.
That night, you kept your note sweet but funny, using his lyrics to try and steal at least a giggle out of him. When he read that it said, You got a pretty kinda dirty face x he chuckled to himself and pocketed it with a smile that reached his eyes. You were relieved seeing him smiling harder now after the note and you silently hoped it would stay that way until the gig ended.
But you celebrated too soon, because he went on to let the large crowd know about the situation right before singing Love It If We Made It and your heart got heavy seeing the clear distaste and upset on his face.
Matty didn’t let it hold him down though, because he went on to give a passionate rendition of the song and you got goosebumps as you watched him enraged and growling out the lyrics.
Unfortunately, after the show was done, the high came down quickly when you all walked back into the greenroom to the news of the article having been published online already and reading it was upsetting.
You watched as your boyfriend read it multiple times, getting more and more angry every time but he kept it to himself, only letting scoffs and shakes of his head show to everyone. The rest of the band read it and called bullshit on it, rolling their eyes at the way something had been twisted and taken way out of proportion.
It was when you got in the bunk together later that night, in the tour bus on your way to Belfast, that Matty properly let his emotions show.
He let angry tears fall from his eyes silently with you cradling his head on your chest, your right hand rubbing his back soothingly as your other hand was on his head and softly scratching his scalp.
It broke your heart hearing him getting this worked up and upset, your head a tangle of confused thoughts as to how people could be so quick to jump to the worst conclusions when taking a singular second of a moment out of context to fit their villainizing narrative.
“I’m sorry.” Matty apologised as he sniffled, picking up his head from your chest slightly so that he could wipe the tears off his cheeks.
But you shook your head, letting your hands come up to cup his face so you could take on the task of wiping his tears, “Don’t apologise, baby. It’s what I’m here for.”
You pulled him back down to rest over you and he didn’t have it in himself to deny the comfort that you were bringing him so he nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck and, right after he left a soft kiss on your skin, he quietly asked, “Am I a bad person?”
“No, you’re not.” You replied in a heartbeat, not even a hint of doubt crossing your mind, “People just love making others seem worse than them so that they can feel superior. It’s so fucked.” Your fingers tangled in his curls and pulled on them slightly, just so he could look at you as you continued, “Everyone knows the person you are, and you would never do that. You don’t stand for that. They’re always looking for something they can turn into a scandal and it’s so unfair that they do it at your expense.”
His teary eyes watch you intently for a few seconds, silence engulfing you entirely but your eye contact doesn’t break. That’s how you catch the tear that falls from the corner of his eye with your thumb quickly and you have to bite your bottom lip not to cry yourself.
Matty doesn’t say anything and you can’t blame him, it’s upsetting enough to see him go through this so you cannot imagine what it must feel like being called such a name for an action that got completely misinterpreted.
He kissed the palm of your hand softly, wet lips pressed on your soft skin adoringly with his eyes closed as if he’s indulging in it all.
“Let’s just go to sleep okay?” You suggest delicately, whisper breaking the silence and the heaviness of the moment, and you’re so glad that he nods and melts right into you.
After a long minute, you hear Matty sigh and you stay awake until you’re certain he’s asleep. Only when you register his steady breathing and the absence of his sniffling, do you will yourself to close your eyes and get some rest.
~*~*~*~ 30th January ~*~*~*~
Today, you woke up still feeling your chest heavy after everything that had happened last night. But it’s Amelia’s birthday and she's flying over to join you on the last day of tour, so you were excited to go pick her up from the airport, but that unfortunately meant having to leave an upset Matty for a bit just as the crew is starting to bring everything inside the venue.
Earlier that morning, whilst you had gone to the small bathroom in the bus, Matty had read the article once again and when he caved and went on Twitter to see what was being told, he felt his blood starting to boil in anger.
You can see it on his face even now that you’re back. You had managed to make it back to the venue, this time with Amelia beside you, just in time for soundcheck and despite the fact that Matty sounds amazing, it’s written all over his face just how much this is all bothering him still.
On the way back to the venue, you told Amelia what happened and the boy's reaction to it, so she was up to date. But despite the slight atmosphere, you weren’t going to let it affect your best friend's birthday.
The boys greet her warmly when she arrives and they all ask how she’s been. She gives you all the gossip that you’ve missed out on from the chicken shop offices along with other industry stuff that she’s heard. The boys find it quite amusing watching you both back together, it’s easy for them all to see you’ve both missed each other, it’s certainly like what any of them would be like with any long time apart.
Before long, it’s time to soundcheck and whilst you see Matty’s mood dip a little at that, you don’t comment on it despite it being written all over his face. The last thing you think would be helpful is drawing attention to it in front of everyone. So you just peck his lips quickly before you part ways and you head down to the pit with Amelia, fully intending to dance to a few songs with your best friend. And dance you do, to Too Shy, It’s Not Living, She’s American, and a couple more. However, the short practice takes a turn.
It surprises you when the singer turns to George and tells him they’re soundchecking Pressure right after they’ve finished soundchecking Oh Caroline. You feel your chest contract as you hear him angrily spout the lyrics, constantly taking sips of the water bottle that he keeps throwing to the ground beside his feet and rubbing his face like being in his own skin is annoying him.
The feeling in your chest gets even worse when after a few songs, he mumbles something into the mic and the lads start playing Me.
The second the song starts and you recognise it, you feel your heart sinking and you can’t even try and force a smile at Matty when he catches a glimpse at you. His eyes almost evade you as if it hurts him to have you seen him this way, but he keeps getting annoyed at every little thing from then on.
First, he keeps complaining about the volume of his mic compared to the rest of the instruments and after the third time he signals the sound guys to change it, he huffs and rolls his eyes as he gives up on everything. The next thing that happens is that he messes up the lyrics and makes them all start again, and that happens twice which has Ross grumbling under his breath at Matty.
Unsurprisingly, you and your best friend watch as the tension sweeps over the stage. The bassist muttering things clearly annoys Matty a bit more than it normally would and it seems like his thoughts start tangling together after that because he misses a line and starts later than he should’ve and the second he realises his mistake, he explodes in anger.
“No- Stop. Stop!” His arms are wailing around, brows in a permanent frown and his cheeks a hint of pink from how worked up he’s getting, “It’s all wrong!”
Adam lets his head hang at the outburst and George just watches Matty like he’s trying to find the best words to approach him with but Ross has had enough with his attitude so he just airs out his thoughts without much of a filter, “If you’re gonna change the setlist last minute then at least fucking try to properly soundcheck it mate. We’re all doing our parts alright.”
Matty knew they were all playing it right and it was just him who was unable to get it together and at least practice it well, “I fucking know Ross, okay?!” He’s almost shaking from anger, feeling like Ross isn’t even trying to understand where he’s coming from, “Fucking hell. Go and get called a fucking Nazi and see how it feels.”
“You think that hasn’t upset us all?!” Ross hisses in annoyance, “We fucking get it Matty but you’re being a right dick right now.”
“You know that it isn’t true so why are you letting it get to you this much? You’ve never let this shite get to your head before, why now?” Ross has a point with what he’s saying but the reasoning goes over Matty’s head when the bassist adds, “We’ve been through shit like this before, just stop caring like you always do.”
Matty takes is the wrong way and he’s fuming as he says, “And what’s that fucking meant to mean?” He doesn’t even let Ross speak though, because he’s quick to interrupt whatever he’s about to say with a scoff, “You’re such a fucking twat, Macdonald. That’s it. I’m not doing this anymore.”
Not even caring to put the microphone back on its stand, Matty throws it to the side and starts walking off stage, long strides that have Ross shaking his head, “Yes, fucking leave. ‘Cos that’s the best solution.”
Matty turns around to spout a venomous “Fuck you Ross.” and the last thing you hear him say before he disappears back inside the venue is, “Great fucking friend you are, you arsehole.”
You’re fully speechless watching all that happen before you, Amelia squeezes your forearm in shock and that snaps you out of your trance.
Your eyes go to Ross, who looks away when your eyes meet, then to George who just gives you a crooked smile and finally to Adam, who smiles softly at you like he’s trying to comfort you from afar.
“It’s just one of his tantrums, he’ll be alright.” Adam waves off as he sets his guitar on its stand, “He just needs a bit of time.”
You nod and sigh, the heaviness in your chest becoming more prominent, “Should I go check on him?”
“If you want?” George says once he’s down from where his kit is set up and shrugs at you with a bit of worry on his face.
Ross is the one to warn you though, “He might snap at you though, so don’t take it personal if he does.”
“Right.” You nod absentmindedly, trying to think of where Matty might be. You let your bottom lip free from between your teeth and turn to your best friend before you’re off to find your boyfriend, “Sorry Ames, I’ll be right back.”
Shooting Amelia an apologetic look, you start walking past her and she manages to get a little chuckle from you when she calls, “S’okay. Go get your man.”
You make a dash for the backstage area and arrive at the greenroom the quickest you can, and thankfully Matty is right there pacing the room with his head in his hands. His hair is sticking out in every direction from how much he’s pulling on it in frustration.
Careful to not startle him, you clear your throat as you walk into the room and stop when you’ve barely crossed the threshold. “Baby-” You try to ask him if he’s alright, but he interrupts your words when he looks up at you, red eyes with tears threatening to spill out at any second, and basically throws himself into your arms.
The weight of his body hitting yours has a huff slipping past your lips but your arms are quick to clutch him tightly and you allow him to just silently cry into you again. Instantly, you start whispering sweet nothings as you try to calm him down, but nothing works for a while.
Slowly, you guide the both of you to the nearest settee and when you take a seat on it, you encourage him to get comfortable with you. He has his legs thrown over your lap, his head hidden away in the crook of your neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
Matty is fully silent the whole time, just letting everything out on you and you try your best not to get upset yourself as he cries. 10 minutes must go by when he sniffles continuously and takes deep breaths as if trying to calm himself down, and he lifts his head up once he’s managed to stop crying but not before leaving a bunch of pecks on your neck.
“I’m such a twat, I’m so-” He tries to apologise in a panic, retreating to his space on the settee so he peels himself off you and that has you frowning.
“Don’t.” You interrupt his attempt at an apology and turn to him with a soft expression, your hand comes up to his face and cups it, thumb rubbing on his cheek and feeling the stubble creeping on his skin. “It’s okay, baby. Nothing to apologise for. You feeling a bit better?”
Your boyfriend lets his eyes close at your touch and he hums as confirmation in complete honesty. He’s so glad he can let himself be this vulnerable into you and he certainly notices just how much comfort you bring him because just your presence helps him settle down a bit after what had happened.
“Good.” You mumble in response and, cradling his head, you pull him onto you so he can rest on your chest while you hug him.
Despite all the bullshit that has gone down, seeing how you react in this situation and how you comfort him has his chest swelling. There’s no denying it anymore that you’re one of the best things that has ever happened to him and some thoughts start to clear up in his mind, all about the feelings he has towards you and a hint of how he might’ve underestimated them a little.
About 5 more minutes go by before the band and Amelia come back into the greenroom, their chatter quieting down when they walk into the room. They are wary about the state Matty was in and they don’t really want to disturb him if it was affecting him that much. There will be a much better moment to talk about it later so they will keep their mouths shut about it until the time comes to bring it up.
Amelia walks up to the drinks table and gets you and herself a water bottle, it really is so that you can give it to Matty because she doesn't want to disturb the singer. But when she walks up to you and hands you the bottle, you smile at her and thank her and the mention of her name makes Matty lift his head up to see your best friend.
He offers Amelia a forced side smile and you’re both surprised when he says, “M’sorry for ruining your birthday Ames.”
Amelia clicks her tongue and waves him off, “You haven’t! There’s nothing to apologise for, Matty.”
Your boyfriend gets himself up and pulls her into another hug, “Let me make you a drink, as an apology.”
“Maybe that apology I will accept.” Amelia giggles and she gives Matty a tight squeeze.
Your curly haired brunette smiles at your best friend before letting her go, and he looks between you and her before clapping and rubbing his hands together, “Let’s get the party started then.”
You don’t get in the way of that at all, George gets involved immediately grabbing a can out of the fridge and Rebekka and Polly all grab drinks too. Thankfully once music gets put on, the atmosphere settles a little and you relax that little bit more. And you’re really thankful to everyone wanting to make Amelia’s day special.
After you all end up having your first drink and raising your glasses to your best friend, you quickly grab your boyfriend’s attention for a moment, just to tell him, “I’m just gonna run to the bus. I need to get something, very quickly.”
“You remember the way back here, right?” Matty double checks, and he’s about to offer to come back with you until you assure him.
“I do.” You promise, and you cheekily ask, “Can you please make me another one of those cocktails for when I get back?”
Matty just grins though, “Of course baby.”
Quickly, you kiss him before you head out and Matty’s heart races that little bit when you turn back before you walk out and you catch him smiling at you.
He feels himself blush at the way you wink at him before you disappear off and he takes a second to calm down before he preps the drink you requested. He chats to your best friend with ease and Matty can tell himself getting that little bit better because she provides him with a good distraction. Even if she is jokingly asking if you’re boring him on tour yet or if your excitement has dwindled during the gigs.
When you come back 10 minutes later, everyone notices because when you come back in because as you do, you flick the lights off and when all eyes go to the door, they see you smiling with a birthday cake in your hands. You start off singing Happy Birthday to your best friend and you walk toward her with a grin and laugh through the lyrics when you see her cackling at the fact you have bought her a children’s Spiderman cake.
You’re glad she found it funny as all of this Andrew Garfield hype definitely wasn’t going to leave her anytime soon. After you set the cake down just before the song finished, Amelia blew out her candles and turned to you to give you the biggest hug ever. She thanks you a bunch of times and you giggle telling her how much you love her and have missed her and that you hope she has a fantastic day.
After you say how excited you are for her to open her presents, and she promises she’ll open them when you both get back to the hotel, she notices that you’ve changed.
“Outfit change?” Amelia asks with a grin, as she knows exactly where she’s seen this outfit on you before.
You grin and nod, “Had to get my party fit on, Ames.”
“Course.” She laughs, and you notice the way Matty grins as he realises what you’ve changed into as she says, “You look hot.”
You wink at her and smile, “Thanks bestie.”
She winks back at you before turning around herself and heading over to socialise with Ross.
“Party outfit?” Your boyfriend moves over and wraps his arm around your waist. He can’t help but knowingly ask, “You’re wearing this for me?”
He doesn’t even have to ask. He knows you are. Why else would you be wearing red leather pants paired with a cheetah print, long sleeve top?
You shrug nonchalantly, trying not to let the grin tug at your lips, “Maybe?”
“Brings back good memories.” Matty says as he comes around to stand in front of you and he wraps his arms around your waist.
You feel heat rise to your cheeks at the thought of your first date. You genuinely can’t believe that your favourite singer is now your boyfriend, and it all started in a chicken shop in Cricklewood. “Amazing memories.”
Matty has genuinely never been so glad he agreed to an interview. And yes maybe he will eventually admit that he requested to have the date with you, but he’s beyond glad that he did because you have changed his life so much, and it’s certainly for the better.
“The bandana is missing though.” He points out with a soft pout on his face, you can’t hold back from pressing a quick kiss on his lips.
“I didn’t pack it. Sorry baby.” You truly wish you had taken that red bandana with you now but you think the outfit looks recognizable enough without it.
He quickly finds a solution in his head, “I can sort that out.” A red bandana is easy to get, he figures.
“‘Course you can.” You scoff out a laugh, but your amusement settles deep in your chest to add to the adoration you feel for this man. “Kinda wish it was raining right now, you know?” Your voice raises in pitch slightly and your smile grows bigger on your face when you think back to that moment, “Wanna kiss you in the rain again.”
Matty blushes and smiles so big, it reaches his eyes, wrinkles showing at the edges and it makes you melt as he says, “Do you?”
You hum as you nod, “I really do.” And just to taunt him you feign pity as you say, “What a shame, isn’t it?”
His eyes go from your down to your lips and up again continuously, you lick your bottom lip purposely as if daring him to kiss you but he sighs shakily and agrees, “What a shame.”
You want to laugh, his self control clearly crumbling because his gaze keeps dropping down to your lips, so you wrap your arms around his neck and with a toothy smile, you say, “Just kiss me, silly.” and Matty is not one to say no to anything you want.
However, your kiss is interrupted by Amelia and Ross gagging loudly beside you as they approach you with shots in hand. Turns out having tequila shots was the birthday girl’s wishes and you are pushed to downing the hellish liquid multiple times while you wait for the show to start.
Right before you’re off to the pit, you all have a little toast to the tour and to Amelia and it’s so cute being part of this little family. It warms your heart looking back and seeing how everyone had welcomed you into the tour and it’s even more special when you see your best friend also be treated like one of the family.
You’ve caught her giggling around with the band all night, having long conversations with Polly and Ross and even whispering about god-knows-what to Matty before you leave. It has you curious how they seem to be scheming something in secret until the very last minute you have in the greenroom.
But you forget to ask what they were talking about when you’re rushing out of the greenroom and it’s hilarious because, since you’re so tipsy, you and Amelia are giggling uncontrollably as you make your way through the pit.
Your note tonight is perfect for what Matty has schemed with Amelia, and he thinks it’s such a cute coincidence that you’ve written, Baby you look so cool x (you’d originally written babe but scribbled the e and written a y just underneath it) without knowing what is going to happen when the band starts playing Robbers.
Next comes the Charlie Chaplin cover of Smile which never fails to make you do just that, even if Matty acts all drunk and lonely on stage as he sings. You think it’s a beautiful song and you’re so happy that you’d got to see him sing it so often. But what happens next shocks you and the entire arena beyond belief.
It sobers you up watching the bit play out on stage, unbelievably so when you see Matty break down into tears holding Ross’ shoulder and apologising to him as Ross is forced to stand there and not react. You can’t even tell if he’s crying for the bit or not, it worries you.
As soon as you knew the consumption interlude was coming, you headed backstage needing to know if everything was alright because even though he had played 6 more songs after that bit had happened, he seemed a bit off.
So you appeared backstage and your arms opened up for him to run into them the second you saw him and you’re so glad he clutches you tightly and promises you he’s alright after you ask him if there was something bothering him.
He didn’t have much time to stay and chat to you, since the crew had gotten the stage ready for the at their very best section quickly so you reluctantly let him go with a sweet kiss that he thoroughly enjoys despite being rushed back onto stage.
Once he’s gone back on stage with the lads, you figure it’s better for you to be close to the stage just in case he gets upset again, so you go to the far left side of the stage where typically the crew watch the show from and stay there for the rest of the show.
Or at least that is what you were planning to do until your boyfriend takes the opportunity of An Encounter drowning the arena to start a little monologue which sparks your curiosity.
Matty smiles into the microphone and adjusts his in-ears as he walks over to the edge of the stage and leans forward as if he’s about to tell the crowd a secret. “You know, this next song has become a lot more special this past month and I wanted to share with you the reason for why that is.”
Listening to those words knowing that Robbers is next makes you turn slowly to your best friend and you find Amelia smiling brightly as you and you just know she has to do something with this because of the mischievous glint in her eyes.
There isn’t a chance for you to even ask about what’s happening when she drags you into the back of the stage and up the stairs so that you’re right beside the house. You’re so confused but you have to take quick steps so you don’t fall and it is when you’re almost by the door of the house that she pulls out a piece of red fabric and when a bit of light manages its way over where you are standing, you realise it’s a red bandana - the one you were missing.
“Put this on.” Amelia holds the bandana out for you.
But you’re so confused about everything, and why you’ve been moved to behind the stage, and what the bandana is even for, so you blankly ask, “What?”
“God- Okay,” Amelia half laughs, before she takes control of the situation as your confusion isn’t helping, “I’ll put it on you then.”
Your best friend spins you around so she can tie the material at the back of your head before turning you back and adjusting the bandana so it’s over your nose and it’s in the perfect position.
“What’s going on?” You ask as she’s doing this.
Your confusion doesn’t help when you can also hear screams from the audience and Matty’s muffled voice too. Clearly somethings going on and you’ve been left in the dark.
Your best friend looks you dead in the eye and pleads, “Trust me okay.” But you can’t settle.
“Ames, what’s happening?” You repeat yourself and she must be able to see the panic in your eyes because she answers you.
“You’re gonna go out there for something your boyfriend has planned.”
It’s an instinctive reaction to immediately be defensive, “What?! No!”
“Yes, come on!” Amelia grins, and quickly goes on to guilt trip you, “For me? For my birthday?”
“Ames…” You trail off, feeling like you’re frozen because you have no idea what you’re meant to do. Especially when she hands you a black bandana.
But your best friend spells it out for you, “As soon as Matty opens the door, you’re gonna tie this around his neck, okay?”
“Okay.” You say in a bit of a rush, your blood flooding with adrenaline so you blindly accept what she’s telling you. She adjusts your red one on your nose again, making sure it’s perfectly positioned as she instructs, “And keep this one around yours.”
You not without really knowing you’re agreeing yet you respond, “Okay.”
“Good luck,” She grins at you like a proud mother, “You got this.”
“Amelia-” You’re about to beg her for something more, but before you can the door in front of you opens, almost making you jump.
Your boyfriend stands at the open door with his hand already out for you to grab, the dreamiest smile on his face and you’re so nervous, you’re feeling a rush of a million emotions in one second.
And then your gaze drops to his chest in full show because his shirt is open and when you realise he’s somehow managed to get the Robbers shirt and is proudly wearing it for the song. It knocks the wind out of you, your throat goes dry at your lack of knowledge of what’s about to happen that involves you but Matty looks so happy compared to earlier that you’re willing to take part of whatever he’s planned.
That sultry, “Hey baby.” which makes your stomach flutter, snaps you out of the initial shock.
“What are we doing?” You ask through the bandana, almost frozen in your spot but he encourages you to take a small step forward.
“Putting on a show.” He pulls back and grins before he looks down at you and squeezes your hand as he says, “You look gorgeous.”
“I-” Whilst the compliment makes you blush, you’re not really sure it’s the time as you want more instructions from him than flattery. Regardless though, you end up stuttering a, “Thank you.”
“I got you baby. Let’s go.” Matty squeezes your hand tightly and this time you don’t hesitate to step out to him as you hear An Encounter begin to fade into your favourite song. Your boyfriend turns to you once more at the entryway to his house, the both of you just beside Rebekka and he still shields you from most people as he leans down to say into your ear, “Do what we did the other day in soundcheck, okay. I’ll stand on the table and when I go to sit down you crouch, okay?”
“Okay.” You nod complacently.
Kneel down in front of him, you can do. You’ve had practice at this point and you’ll be fine.
Your boyfriend checks once more, looking into your eyes intently for any discomfort you may be feeling as he asks, “You okay?”
“Yeah.” You promise him, nodding.
You trust Matty completely. If he wants you to do this, and be a part of his show, you’re going to do it as best you can.
The singer grins, leaning down again quickly to promise, “I got you.” and as you smile beneath the bandana, he also kisses just over your ear which makes you get flustered all over again.
And then suddenly you’re hit with a mass of screams and it’s difficult to even listen to the music that is being played around you. If you didn’t have those in-ears already in you would be fucked.
Matty walks just one step in front of you, pulling you across towards George, but only for a step until he turns back towards you and pulls you into his body. His hand lands on your waist and he slow dances you towards the white door as the drums kick in and everyone screams again.
Little do you know, more screams take place because on the screen, it comes up with, Special Guest: New Robbers Girl. It’s a detail which you will certainly be laughing at later but in the moment you have no idea as your boyfriend is dancing you across his stage.
You giggle, knowing exactly what he’s doing and what he’s referencing as you dreamed about someone doing this with you when you were younger and you first watched the music video that still to this day has you in a chokehold. Despite your heart beating wildly, you let him lead you like that, spinning you both around until you are through the door and see Polly and Jamie who give you big smiles.
That’s the moment Matty frees you from the short dance but he pulls your arm until it's fully extended and you’re gently dragged along in the direction of the stairs. It's again another reference to the beginning of the music video and you love it with all your heart.
When you reach the bottom of the stairs, it doesn’t take you long to reach the place where you know you’re gonna be standing which is right by the coffee table and once your boyfriend turns you around by the waist so you’re facing him, you catch Adam smiling at you and it definitely helps to settle your nerves a bit.
But Matty starting to sing brings all of your attention back to him, goosebumps erupt all over your skin at the charged energy of the arena and the way he sounds with the crowd singing along.
In your hands remains the bandana Amelia gave you just before the door opened, and you remember what you’re meant to do with it when you clutch it tightly between your fingers. So you bring it up to his neck so you can tie it on the back, but your actions still when he sings the next line staring directly into your eyes.
“God only knows but you’ll never leave her,” the conviction in his eyes makes you melt inside, your knees get weak and your heart swells and the flood of every feeling this man brings you comes in even stronger when he reiterates into the mic, “Never.”
You aren’t sure how you manage to tie the bandana around his neck when that happens, but you’re soon smoothing your hands from his shoulders down to his sweaty taut chest and you genuinely feel like you need to pinch yourself just to make sure you aren’t dreaming.
His fingers wrap around your wrist and slowly he walks backwards until he hits the coffee table and he gets up on it. He doesn’t even have to guide you where to go because you’re positioning yourself right in front of him, looking up as he continues to sing.
The lights on stage showcase his beauty, and you can’t help but get lost in how good he looks in his element. It’s different seeing it from up close, the brown of his eyes glistening under the lighting and his curls being illuminated like a halo around his head.
“Begging babe stay, stay, stay, stay, stay.” You watch him intently and you can’t help but grin at the way he nudges the microphone against your chin for that final stay.
Matty can tell just how big your smile is from the way your eyes are half closed and the apples of your cheeks moving to bring the bandana up the slightest bit. And he smiles just as brightly, nothing has ever felt more right to him than this.
As he’s singing, “One more fight,” Matty slowly steps down from the table and you know your queue. You start to kneel down and when you do Matty sits on the end of the table.
You’re singing along with him, not giving a shit if he can hear you or not or whether it’s ruining what he had planned but you can’t help yourself. He’s singing your favourite song to you.
He reaches the first, “Will I know you.” and as Adam’s guitar begins to ring in the background, Matty leans in and you know what’s coming. You welcome the way he gently grabs your jaw over your bandana and he pulls you in.
In the short gap between the verses, Matty presses his lips over yours, through the red material you’re wearing, and you can’t help but smile as you close your eyes to kiss him back. It’s a weird sensation, kissing but not quite, but you can feel his smile through it and you can see the joy on his face when you both pull away seconds after the crowd erupts in screams.
What the fuck is happening? Is all that’s going through your mind at the moment.
Your mind just can’t really grasp reality at the minute, not when your boyfriend is making one of your teenage dreams come true. Hell, your boyfriend is your teenage dream come true.
Both of you stay in that position as he continues onto the second verse, with you singing along as he looks into your eyes. Matty can tell you’re doing this, and he doesn’t need to see beneath the material to know that your lips are pulled into a huge smile, he can tell just from your eyes alone.
“You’ve got a pretty kind of dirty face.” Matty grins over his microphone as he sings that line at you. But he doesn’t stop there, he gently traces his finger down the centre of your face as he does and it has people screaming that little bit louder, along with you doing the same internally.
As he continues, he doesn’t let his touch stray for long. Instead, he takes a piece of your hair and starts toying with it. Twirling it around his finger over and over as he sings, “And when she’s leaving you’re home, she’s begging you to stay, stay, stay, stay, stay.”
Your eyes glimmer with adoration and your heart feels like it’s about to burst in your chest when he sings, “There’ll be a riot, cause I know you.” and he takes a hold of your wrist where ‘Be a riot’ is inked on your skin and he plants a chaste kiss over it.
It isn’t long that you can stay short circuiting over the gesture, because he’s sliding his hand up from your wrist to intertwine your fingers and helping you back up to stand on your feet.
The song starts building up, his voice becoming more passionate and so does his touch which goes from your hand to cup the side of your neck, bringing you a step closer to him. His fingers lace through the strands of your hair, twirling them softly before letting them fall.
And you know it then, what he’s going to do, knowing which line is sneaking up on you and you nod, reading his mind about it. It’s subtle and reassuring, and it’s warmth that envelopes you as it pours out of both of you when you know that this is it.
Matty’s finger tentatively comes to rest over the bridge of your nose, hooking on the edge of the bandana and he slowly peels it down your face as he sings, “But if you just take off your mask,”
The screams of the crowd when your face is finally revealed are deafening, yet it feels like you’re inside of a bubble. Just you and Matty. No one else. And this is your moment, just you two and there’s absolutely nothing else you could ever wish for.
Your cheeks hurt from how big you’re smiling, and his own smile is making it harder for him to continue singing. That and how badly he wants to seal this moment with a kiss, how badly he wants for everyone to know just how strongly he feels about you, how badly he wants for everyone to see how you’ve got him at your mercy entirely because he’s sure there’s nothing you could ever ask that he wouldn’t do.
“Sing it for me babies!” Matty shouts to the audience and he holds the microphone out towards them so they can scream, ‘Now everybody’s dead!’ but your boyfriend has other ideas for you two.
With his other hand, Matty cups the back of your neck and firmly and fiercely kisses you as the crowd screams the lyrics at the both of you. He lets the wire fall over his arm as he drops the microphone so he can get it again with ease later, but he brings his now free hand to your waist, wrapping it around your lower back pulling you into him, until he consumes you entirely.
It’s instinctive that your hand roots into his curls at this point, the other grabbing hold of his open shirt, pulling it towards you making sure he can’t escape either. Your heart is pounding, entirely running on adrenaline, and completely overwhelmed with the feelings you have for the man who’s holding you in his arms.
Matty never wants to let you go and you hope he doesn’t either. Over the loud screams you can barely hear the song anymore but you know he’s missed more than just that one lyric. It’s only when you just about hear the others singing through your in-ears, “He’s got his gun.” that you realise you’ve both got too wrapped up in the moment.
Yet, still in your hazy mind, you manage to register your favourite part of the song and you’re the one who pulls back and breaks the kiss solely to tell him, “Babe, you look so cool.”
His face is flushed, curls dishevelled just how you like them and that loopy smile on his face that melts your heart, and he looks into your eyes in a way that you just can’t describe, his lips parting and letting a soft exhale to hit your mouth before he sings to you, “You look so cool.”
Suddenly, he remembers he’s meant to sing so he’s hastily getting ahold of the mic again, but he interrupts himself and cuts the run he’s meant to do as he sings the word ‘cool’ when he watches your lips move as you sing along and he can’t be arsed singing anymore when you’re right there in front of him.
He throws the mic to the floor, the wire falling down his arm so he’s free to cup your face with both hands and pressing your lips together feverishly. His arms wrap around the back of your neck, and he brings his hands up to your hair to pull on it softly once before he’s crossing his forearms behind your head so he can pull you impossibly closer to him.
You moan softly into his mouth at his desperation, matching it with the way your fingers dig into the flesh of his waist where you’re holding him tightly as if there was a chance that he could be snatched away from you if you weren’t careful. You kiss until you’re lost for breath, only parting when you need to for air but it's never for more than a split second.
There's a push and pull between you as the rest of the band finish playing the song with huge smiles on their faces. If Matty came into the kiss a little too strong you’d try and take a step backwards but he quickly follows you, keeping you in the kiss, and he would lean backwards pulling you forwards.
The song unfortunately ends and that's when you force yourself to pull back from the kisses. But when you do, Matty just grins and he turns towards the crowd, pulling you with him and he moves so he can hug you from behind quickly so you can take in the applause.
“All for us baby.” He says into your ear, and you can’t help but turn around to quickly hug him, a little embarrassed being up here in front of so many people.
Your boyfriend giggles but doesn’t hesitate for a second to hug you back as the applause rings on. After a second though you pull back and Matty takes your hand in his and he starts moving the both of you back over to Adam’s side of the stage so you can get to the stairs.
Matty lets you walk in front of him, making sure you get up the stairs alright, and then he lets you walk back across the top of the stage towards the ‘front’ door. George and Rebekka grin at you as you walk past which gets you a little more embarrassed but you embrace it when you get to the door and you look out at the huge audience again.
You blow them all a kiss and give them a big wave and smile which makes everyone scream again and it makes you giggle. When you turn to look at your boyfriend again, he’s already grinning at you and he gives your hand a squeeze, and just the way he’s looking so cute and so gooey, you give him another kiss.
It’s quicker than your last few but it means just as much as those ones. You can feel each other's smiles which cuts it a little shorter but you’re grinning like fools when you step back towards the door again.
Like a gentleman he opens the door for you and as you’re about to go through he pulls you back in for another kiss. It’s a short kiss but it’s one you cherish so much, even more when you part and at the same time you both mouth, “Obsessed with you.” at each other. You take a step through the door but before you can walk through, you feel yourself get all flustered as he looks at you, before you can walk through the door though he holds your hip and tells you, “Wait here a second baby.”
Matty quickly pecks your lips one last time, before he jumps down from the top stage, onto the settee and then he quickly crouches down to pick up the microphone from near the edge of the stage where he threw it earlier. He sighs with a toothy grin on his face once his eyes are back on the crowd. Seeing this many people witness you and him finally out and not sneaking around makes him incredibly happy.
“Y/N Y/L/N, ladies and gentlemen.” His voice rings through the speakers, as he turns to watch you wave goodbye to the mass of people in front of the stage and you quickly blow him another kiss before you turn to walk back through the house’s door.
“Wow, what a girlfriend reveal!” Matty breathes out with a giggle at the end, as soon as you’ve disappeared behind the door. He’s so giddy, he just can’t conceal it and he doesn’t really want to so he gives in and proudly shares with the crowd as he grabs he walks up and down the stage, “I’m a very lucky man. The luckiest in fact, can you believe I’ve managed to snag one of the hotties from Chicken Shop Date?”
The crowd gets loud again but the noise doesn’t stop the thoughts from leaving the singer’s mouth entirely unfiltered, “I know I can’t. Still have to pinch myself every morning when I wake up next to her. She’s truly the woman of my dreams.” Matty feels his cheeks get hot at the admission, a string of giggles slipping past his lips.
At least the screams he gets as a response feel like validation so he continues with it, “Sorry for being soppy but, I mean… You lot know her, how could I not?” He’s trying to elongate the mic’s wire, knowing which song is next on the setlist and how he’s gonna want to go all around the stage.
But as he finishes unknotting it and pulling it the most he can, he looks back up to the people before him and adds some more, “Isn’t she just fucking gorgeous as well?”
Matty truly could speak about you for hours, it’s not even been a month since you’ve officially gotten together but he has so many things about you pinned to the forefront of his mind and there’s so many things that he thinks about you that he could honestly find himself lost in sentences regarding all that you are and what you’ve achieved and every little thing you do.
So it’s no surprise that his tongue wants to let loose and spill all of these thoughts out but then he hears George call him, “Simp,” through his in-ears and all of the band giggles when it stops Matty in his tracks.
He turns around to look at the drummer with a glare and he calls him out, “Alright George, piss off. I don’t say shit when you’re with Charli.”
It makes the crowd laugh and holler, some of them spouting comments in the air that get lost in the chaos of so many people shouting at the same time but in a couple of seconds it settles and a particular scream manages to make itself clear out of the crowd and Matty cackles loudly into the mic, “Someone’s just said foursome.”
George laughs into the mic as well, and Matty manages to hear something along the lines of, “You can be in the corner recording.” in between the crowd’s loud screams at the prospect of the lewd proposition.
“Let’s not bring that back to Y/N’s attention please, I’ve already gone through that chat.” Matty admits with a cheeky smile, hoping that you’re listening to this and already picturing in his mind the way you must be flustered at this talk being had on stage in front of thousands of people.
And you are flustered, fanning yourself because you feel scorching hot after everything that has happened in the past ten minutes. So much so, you’ve had to sit down and you’re now watching the screens backstage as you listen to your boyfriend.
“I feel faint.” You let Amelia know, your brows are softly pinched together from how lightheaded and hot you’re feeling but still staring at the screen in front of you with a look that Amelia reads instantly.
With the adrenaline dying down, you can’t quite believe you’ve just done that. You got your robbers kiss, your moment to your favourite song that you’ve only dreamed about since 2013. And now, you and Matty are public. You can’t stop smiling despite the way your heart is beating out of your chest.
Amelia sits beside you, her arm going over your shoulder and she pulls you into her as she giggles before kissing your cheek.
“You’re down bad.” She concludes, she can see it written all over your face and it shines through your eyes and her heart swells in her chest for you.
She’s never seen you so happy.
Despite how soon it may be, you nod in confirmation, “I am.”
From the way your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard and the tingling you feel rushing to every corner of your being, you know it’s more than the adrenaline pumping through your veins that is making your heart beat wildly. After what just happened on stage, there’s no way you can deny that your feelings for Matty are getting stronger with every second you spend by his side.
It’s crazy. It’s rushed. It’s far too soon. You can almost clearly hear everyone telling you.
But you know in your heart, nothing and nobody has ever felt more right.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: We hope you enjoyed this one because we truly loved writing it so much. We were so emotional thinking about how this was originally the end, so glad we got more content to continue writing about! We just wanted to say that we’re not having the Friedland podcast in this story because we have no interest in touching that subject in a work of fiction that we consider an escape from reality. Instead, since this is a continuation of NRIACC Matty and he wouldn’t have ever taken part in that, we’re having the Brits as they were meant to happen and we’re so excited to write that evening and share it with you guys. Thanks so much for reading again, and for your patience and all the love you give this story, yous are the best! xx
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the only time i feel i might get better - matty healy
minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!
content: you get sick at matty's and he takes good care of you <3
word count: 4610
warnings: mention of vomit, oc is on her period :( , a bad ending, and matty being very very darling.
a/n: hi!! i know i said i wasn't going to post again for a bit but i think this is so cute and its just sitting in my drafts!! enjoy ( and pls reblog if you do! ) :)
She groaned in her sleep, stirring slightly as she felt another cramp tear through her stomach, the ache travelling down into her legs as she tucked them to her chest, brows furrowing at the sudden pain. She hadn’t slept well all night, spending an hour of it with her head in the toilet, Matty holding her hair back and rubbing her back softly, bless his heart.
Her heart dropped at the thought of him having to see her in that position, retching what little food was in her stomach, up. They were a relatively new couple, having been dating for almost 6 months, and, of course, she’d had her period around him, but she’d never gotten it at his place, and never felt as sick as she did right now around him either. She felt horrible, half from the pain in her slightly puffy, bloated, lower belly, and half from the embarrassment of him seeing her like this.
Fluttering her eyes open, she saw that Matty’s side of the bed was empty and, upon further inspection with her outstretched hand, he’d been up for a while, the sheets a crisp cold feeling compared to the warmth of her blanket cocoon. She sighed, wondering if he’d been able to go back to sleep at all after the nights events, before her thoughts of uncertainty were interrupted when he tiptoed into the room, obviously under the impression she was asleep, holding a tray of pancakes, orange juice, a cup of coffee, and a vase of fresh flowers.
He stopped when he turned towards the bed, noticing her eyes peeking out from behind the fluffy duvet, and smiled softly, head tilting to the left as her asked her sweetly, “Morning, baby. Feelin’ any better today?”
This earned him a firm shake of her head as she sat up in the bed, lip pouted slightly to show him her discontent. He cooed, placing the tray of food in front of her on the bed, ensuring the legs of the miniature table were stable before he sat down on the other side of the bed, planting a soft kiss to her temple.
“Don’t have to eat it all if you don’t want, honey, I just wanted to wake you up with something nice after you had such a horrible night.” He said, sitting cross-legged next to her on the bed. He pointed to two little white tablets that lay next to her orange juice. “Brought you some Panadol too, baby. Make sure you eat at least a little before you take it, don’t want you getting sick again, yeah?”
She nodded, “Thank you so much Matty,” She croaked, throat still sensitive from the acidic bile she’d thrown up in the night, “I’m sorry about last night.”
His eyebrows raised, face scrunching in disbelief as he tried to process what she’d just said. He moved closer to her on the bed, hand coming to rest on her knee above the blanket she’d wrapped herself in.
“Sorry?” He tutted, shaking his head, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about baby, what'd you mean ‘sorry’?” His lips turned into a slight frown, disheartened at the fact that she felt the need to be sorry about being sick.
“Ju-Just, you havin’ to stay up with me… I just feel a bit bad that I ruined our night, I guess,” She spoke sheepishly, noticing the disappointed look on his face as she spoke.
“Oh sweetheart,” He cooed, moving to place the breakfast tray on the floor, before scooting close to her on the bed, pulling her into his chest, one hand rubbing her back in a light rhythm, the other combing through her hair. “You don’t have to say sorry, ‘kay? It’s my job to look after you. Don’t ever apologise for being sick, baby. It happens to everyone.”
He felt her nod against his chest, and he stopped his fingers carding through her hair as she looked up at him, thinking twice about leaning up to kiss him as she realised she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet this morning.
Almost as if he was reading her mind, he shook his head, laughing to himself softly.
“Baby, really?” He chuckled, brushing a little bit of sleep from her left eye with the soft pad of his thumb as he did so, “ You wanna kiss me, you can. I think we’re way beyond worrying about morning breath, don’t ya’ think, darlin’?”
She blushed, surprised that he could read her so well, shoving her face into the soft fabric of his white shirt, earning another chuckle from Matty, the sound rumbling in her mind and warming her insides, affecting her probably more than it should have given her in her ill state.
She detached from his chest, fishing the tray of food up off of the floor beside her, and placed it on the bed, before leaning into Matty again, his right arm wrapped around her as she picked at the sweet blueberries that decorated her pancakes.
She sighed contentedly, sipping on her orange juice as she lay, listening to Matty’s steady heartbeat as he sat beside her, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger lazily. She’d be lying if she said that this side of Matty didn’t turn her on, his need to comfort and protect her rising to the surface in a similar way as it did after he’d been particularly rough with her in bed. The idea of him taking care of her a particularly good one in her mind.
She felt a familiar heat pooling between her thighs as she sat beside him, glancing up at him occasionally as he typed on his phone one-handed, most likely making note of lyrics he’d thought of, his brain constantly moving 100km an hour. She watched as his slender thumb glid smoothly across his screen, pressing the keyboard expertly.
‘This shouldn’t turn me on so much.’ She thought, biting her lip lightly as she shamelessly observed him, now sitting up further in the bed to gain a better view.
She blamed it on her period. Sure, Matty was hot, and, God, she’d fuck him 10 times a day if she had the stamina, lord knows he probably did, but getting turned on by typing? That’s pathetic.
Finally, he saw her out of the corner of his eye, lower lip between her teeth and cheeks a light red as she watched him. He raised an eyebrow, turned his head to face her quizzically.
“What are you looking at?” He smiled at her and she blushed, quickly averting her eyes to the half-eaten pancake in front of her, picking at it delicately.
He laughed softly, “Going shy on me, baby?” he asked, bringing the arm that was wrapped around her shoulder up to her hair, ruffling it playfully, before leaning down to press a firm kiss to her cheek.
She tucked herself deeper into his side, having once again discarded the tray of food onto Matty’s bedroom floor. He wrapped his arm around her once more, giving her a tight squeeze.
“You okay, honey?” He asked softly, looking down at her as she lay on his chest, tracing her finger softly on the front of his t-shirt, “Feelin’ a bit clingy today? Is that it, huh?”
She nodded, moving impossibly closer to him, wrapping both her legs around his left, her arms wrapping around his bicep, clinging to him like a koala.
He chuckled softly at her, peering at her from the corner of his eye as he watched her cling to him desperately. His attention turned completely towards her however, when he heard a small whimper sound from next to him, at the same time as she’d fidgeted in her spot, causing her sensitive clit to lightly brush the side seam of his sweatpants through her thin sleep-shorts.
His eyes shot down to her, fearing that she was having the same horrible cramps she experienced in the night.
“You okay, baby? Tummy hurting again?” He asked, concern evident in his tone.
She was embarrassed, not wanting to admit that the sound was out of pleasure, not pain. So, she nodded, eyebrows creasing together as she looked up at him.
It was insane how well he could read her. From the second they met, a couple of months before they’d started going out, it was like he could see into her mind and knew almost everything she thought and could anticipate what she was going to say next.
That’s why looking up at him was a huge mistake on her part. He knew as soon as he looked at her he knew that she was lying, and he thought he knew why.
“We’re not lying now, are we sweetheart?” He asked earnestly, looking into her eyes as he spoke.
“W-what? Why would I lie?” She said, not expecting to be caught out so soon.
He raised his eyebrow at her, expecting her to have admitted her lie, “Oh, okay… so just now, when you wriggled around for a second, and I felt your cunt on my leg, it was just a coincidence that you made that little sound at the same time? Is that right?”
She flushed red, face turning to dig into his arm to hide, embarrassed at being read so easily, once again. She let out a muffled whine, annoyed both his teasing, and her horniness.
He sat up from the bed, unlatching his arm from her grasp to face her.
“Baby,” He cooed, “want you to use your words when you feel like this, ‘kay? Want you to tell me what you want.”
She nodded, still covering her flushed face, now with the duvet in place of his bicep.
“I just wanna make sure you’re feeling better after last night, honey. Don’t wanna hurt you or anything, y’know?”
He looked torn. Torn between his restraint and not wanting to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable state, and his wanting to give her everything she wants on a whim.
An idea popped into his head, and he stood from the bed, reaching down to peck a quick kiss to her forehead, muttering a ‘be right back’ before exiting the room.
She sat in his bed, awaiting his return as she sipped on the now lukewarm coffee he’d brought her. But it wasn’t very long before he came back, having discarded his shirt and sweats for reasons unbeknownst to her - though she wasn’t complaining, she could spend hours tracing the outlines of his tattoos - especially his ‘We Are Kings tattoo - whether that be with her eyes, fingertips, or tongue.
He walked over to her, boxer shorts hanging low on his hips, and flipped the duvet off her, reaching his hand out for her to take.
“C’mon baby,” He pulled her up, “ran us a bath.” He patted her on the bum softly as he walked past her and out into the hall. She followed dumbly, brain foggy from the tooth-rotting sweetness of their morning in bed together.
Stepping into the bathroom, she saw that not only had he drawn them both a bath, with bubbles in it, which she knew he didn’t like, but had meticulously placed candles around the edge of the bath.
She could’ve cried at the gesture, and she almost did, eyes growing blurry before she blinked the tears away quickly.
Matty stepped into the bathroom behind her, kissing her on the side of her cheek, then neck, as he reached for the bottom of her (his) shirt, pulling it over her head softly, before tugging her pyjama shorts down. He helped her step into the warm bath, holding his hand out for her to balance on. Once she was in, and he’d made sure the water wasn’t too hot, he tugged his boxers down his legs before stepping into the bath himself, setting himself behind her so her back rested against his chest.
She sighed in content as he brought his large hands up to her shoulders, massaging her upper back soothingly. She leant her head back against his shoulder, Matty retracting his hands from her shoulders to wrap them around her, rubbing her arms up and down soothingly.
He lent down to kiss her on the cheek, instead meeting her lips as she quickly tilted her head to meet him. Meaning for it to be a quick peck, he was surprised when she deepened it, running her tongue along his bottom lip teasingly.
He pulled back, hand resting on her jaw as he guided her lips away.
He sighed, “Baby… don’t make me be the bad guy,” he frowned, not wanting to tell her a strict no, but also not wanting to hurt her whilst she was in her particularly vulnerable state.
“Please,” she pleaded, un-slotting her legs from between his beneath the bubbles to squeeze her thighs together desperately.
He shook his head, shooting her a pleading look, “Honey, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself or to be sick again… I promise, once your period’s done I’ll do whatever you want me to, baby.”
She furrowed her brows in frustration, annoyed at his refusal. Of course, she couldn’t be that annoyed, he was only trying to ensure her comfort and safety, but this didn’t matter in her mind, not when she was this horny. What was she gonna do if he didn’t give in to her? Finger herself to no avail? They both knew that wouldn’t work, and she knew that Matty was the only one who could satiate the need in the pit of her belly.
She spun around in the bath, being careful not to spill any water out of the bath, before pushing away from him slightly to see him better. She huffed, whining “It’s not gonna hurt, promise.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, only now beginning to grasp just how desperate she was, watching as she crossed her legs, heeling digging against her clit harshly, causing her to hiss, wincing slightly at the sensitivity.
She sighed in frustration, pouting slightly as she looked at him with puppy dog eyes.
“What if– what if I said it would make me feel better? I swear, baby, if it doesn’t feel good I’ll tell you to stop.” She pleaded, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.
He eyed her carefully, thinking about it carefully. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?
He sighed, lips tugging into a smirk as he finally nodded, ushering for her to resume her previous position, between his legs, back pressed against him.
He leant down to whisper in her ear, brushing some hair away from her face as he spoke, “Make sure you tell me the second it hurts even a little, okay darlin’?”
She nodded, leaning her head back against his chest, lingering a soft kiss onto his chin.
He traced his hands up and down her thighs beneath the water, her legs automatically widening like muscle memory. He laughed breathily in her ear at her eagerness, before sliding his right hand to her core, pressing light circles to her clit as he planted soft kisses along her neck, her having tilted it to the side to grant him further access.
She moaned softly, bringing a hand up to play with the chocolate curls at the nape of his neck, tugging softly as he began to tease a finger around her entrance, keeping his slow rhythm on her clit.
“Feel good, honey?” He spoke softly into her ear, not slowing his teasing motions, but not speeding up either.
She nodded, brows furrowed as he slipped the tip of his index finger inside her.
“Use your words, baby. Need to hear you say it, ‘kay?”
“F-feels good, Matty, promise.” She stuttered out, his fingers speeding up slightly on her clit for a millisecond, before it returned to its original speed.
“Good girl,” he murmured in her ear, pushing his index finger into her cunt completely, her head slamming back to meet his chest as he curled it expertly.
Her hand that wasn’t occupied with Matty’s hair emerged from the water, where it had been gripping her thigh, and she placed it on her left boob, swiping her thumb over her nipple delicately and squeezing the soft, meaty flesh around it.
She arched her back as Matty prodded a second finger into her, curling it as he had the first. As she arched further into his chest, she felt Matty’s hard cock against her back, and teasingly wriggled against it.
He groaned, fingers speeding up as they fucked in and out of her, his hand that was rubbing her clit now came up to brush her hair out of her face, before he flicked her right nipple playfully, ripping a guttural sound from the back of her throat as he returned his hand to her clit, rubbing fast circles over it with his middle and ring finger.
He felt her cunt tighten around his fingers, thighs slamming together to stop his hands from retracting.
He pressed his plush, pink, lips to her ear, pressing airy kisses along it as he breathed, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Yeah?” He felt her become impossibly right around his fingers, and she moaned loudly as he said, “Gonna feel so much better afterwards, baby. C’mon, give it to me.”
Matty fingers stilled inside her as she came, eyes squeezing closed and toes curling as the water in the bath sloshed around them, her loud moan echoing around the bathroom. He waited for her breathing to settle slightly before slowly pulling his fingers out, the water in the bath cleaning them off.
She flipped herself over carefully, legs wobbling slightly as she straddled his right leg, her boobs planted flat against his chest. She reached up, planting a soft kiss to his lips, whining softly against them as her clit grazed his leg when she pushed herself up.
Pulling away from her lips, Matty tutted in faux annoyance, rolling his eyes playfully.
“Still not done, baby?” He asked, smoothing his hand over her hair and then resting it on her cheek as she looked up at him,
“No,” she confirmed, half-mooned, lidded eyes peering up at him.
He sighed, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?” He asked playfully, “Too horny for your own good.”
She whined as she shifted herself further up his body, his rock hard cock laying flat against her slit as it rested on his stomach. He lay back against the steeper end of the bath, hands on both hips, thumbs drawing shapes on her delicate skin.
She wriggled her hips slightly, his cock bumping over her clit multiple times before she rose to her knees, almost slipping on the slippery bottom of the bath, luckily being caught by Matty’s large hands on her hips again.
She laughed softly, looking up at him as she did so, seeing him biting his lip softly to keep in his laugh, the rumbling of his chest betraying him. She slapped his stomach playfully.
“Hey!” She scolded, “Don’t laugh at me,” She said with a fake pout on her face.
Matty cooed, laughter still rumbling in his chest as he spoke, “Aw, sorry honey, it's just, when I said I didn’t want you to get hurt, I didn’t mean slipping over in the bath and dying.” He giggled as he spoke, and she couldn’t help but grin at him, pouncing onto him to plant a sweet kiss to his lips, before pulling away.
Her brows furrowed and index finger pointed at him as she reprimanded him, trying her best to keep her face straight as she spoke, “Okay! No more laughing,” Her eyes narrowed at him accusingly, “back to sex.”
He nodded stiffly, hand coming up to his head as he saluted her militarily, firmly repeating her previous statement.
She giggled softly, lifting her leg up with help from Matty, before shifting herself on top of him completely, his hard cock trapped between her sticky cunt and his firm belly. She groaned as she rocked back and forth slowly, before pushing herself up slightly, grabbing the base of his cock, tapping it on her clit a few times before she pushed it into herself, sighing in content as she sunk down, the full feeling in her tummy satiating the desire she’d been holding there all day.
He groaned softly, brows knitting together as she sunk all the way down onto his cock, her clit brushing against the groomed pubic hair at the base. His hands rested on her hips, rubbing shapes softly as he helped guide her up and down on his length. She was so tight around him, clamping down hard when he moved a hand from her hip down to rub her tender, puffy clit.
She moaned breathily, back arched and head thrown back as she bounced on his cock rapidly, water splashing around the bath and onto the floor. Her right hand rested on Matty’s ‘We are Kings’ tattoo, providing her with leverage to move quicker, and her left hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, nails digging into his Mortal Kombat tattoo as her orgasm approached her.
Matty felt her hips faltering slightly, and her thighs began to shake, causing him to tighten his grip on her hips, holding her still as he slammed his hips up to meet hers. She whined loudly, his thick cock filling her completely, slamming against her cervix with every unyielding thrust.
“Feelin’ good, baby? He asked breathily, panting slightly, his curls falling in his face, sticking to his slightly damp forehead.
She responded the only way she could through her foggy, fucked-out brain, squeezing his forearm impossibly tight and keening loudly, before her mouth fell open in a silent scream.
He continued his relentless pace, bringing them both closer and closer to cumming. His brows knitted together in concentration as he tried to keep his pace consistent, but he was struggling. She was so fucking tight, squeezing him like she was afraid that if she didn’t, he’d somehow disappear.
Thankfully, he could tell she was close, her lower lip pulled between her teeth and cheeks rosy, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t had to hold his orgasm since the second he’d slipped into her. Something about his cock and her cunt fit so right, he could probably cum just at the thought of it.
Matty looked up at her through the mess of wet curls in front of his eyes, “Need you to rub your clit for me now, ‘kay honey?”.
She immediately obeyed, bringing the hand that was wrapped around his wrist to rub her clit at a harsh pace. She cried out, hand faltering slightly at the intense pressure building in her lower belly.
She was so close, she just needed something, anything, to push her over the edge, and almost as though Matty read her mind, he leaned forward, attaching his mouth to her left breast, swirling his tongue around and biting lightly at her perked up nipple.
The hand rubbing her clit and rapid hip movements halted as she felt Matty, whose head now rested on her shoulder, still inside her, groaning loudly as he came inside her, rope after rope of his sticky cum coating her walls. She wailed, eyes rolling back into her head as the tightness in her stomach finally released. She leaned forward to bite Matty’s shoulder softly, tears streaming down her cheeks at the intensity of both her orgasms.
She slipped her arms out from between their chests, wrapping them tightly around Matty’s neck before pressing her head into his neck, sighing contently.
Matty smiled softly against her, lifting the hand that still rested on her left hip to rub her back gently.
“Water’s gone all cold, sweetheart,” He said, slightly muffled by the delicate skin of her shoulder.
She shrugged lazily in his arms, murmuring back a sweet, “M’cozy.”
“Y’cosy?” He bit back a soft laugh at her lovely voice, “Not gonna be so ‘cosy’ when you get a cold, honey.” He continued rubbing her back, cooing inwardly when he heart a soft sniffle beneath him.
“How ‘bout this, baby, let me get out, and I’ll go get your clothes, get you nice and dry, and then we can go back to this exact position in my bed… That sound good?”
She nodded weakly against his chest, and that's exactly what they did. Quickly pulling on a new pair of sweats, he remembered he’d laid out some boxers and an old sweatshirt of his on the bed before he’d gotten in the bath, and he was particularly grateful for it now, grabbing the pile off the bed, and a towel warmed from the dryer, before speed-walking back to the bathroom. He knocked softly before walking in, wanting to be safer than sorry, and heard a soft hum from behind the door. A sign to enter, he assumed.
Walking in, he saw that she was still in the exact position he’d left her in, knees tucked to her chest, with her chin rested against her knees. He cooed, putting her new clothes on the basin before helping her stand in the bath, opening the warm towel and wrapping it around her body, her hands poking out to keep it wrapped around herself as he scooped her up, setting her down to sit on the lid of the toilet.
Grabbing the clothes off the basin, he slipped the soft grey sweater over her head, and pulled his boxers up her legs, pressing a kiss to her forehead once she was dressed.
She murmured a ‘thank you’, to which he responded by kissing her again, this time on her lips, before picking her up again, placing a hand on her left knee, pushing it to wrap around his waist, before doing the same to her right.
Keeping her steady with a hand on her bum, he walked the few steps to his bed as quickly as possible. He held her up with one hand as he used the other to pull back the covers, before carefully crawling into the bed, being sure not to disturbed her comfort in his arms as he did so.
Wrapping the soft duvet around the both of them, he looked down at her to see her smiling up at him. He beamed back at her, dimples visible in his cheeks, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her puffy lips.
She sighed in content, pulling away from the kiss and resting her head on his shoulder again, nose nuzzling against the soft skin of his neck. He smiled to himself, before picking up his phone from the bedside table, checking his notifications quickly before he opened Instagram, scrolling aimlessly through his reels. He swiped upon a particularly funny minions meme, pushing air out of his nostrils in a half-laugh, before angling his phone down to show her. He looked down to watch her reaction, his favourite thing in the world being to see her laugh - it was automatically a great day for him whenever he was the one to coax a giggle from her - but instead saw she was asleep, lips parted slightly, and eyebrows relaxed.
He smiled fondly down at her, using the arm she was laying on to rub soothingly up and down her arm. He clicked ‘Save’ on the meme, telling himself to remember to show her later, before he opened Safari, logging into Twitter, or ‘X’ now, - ‘so fucking stupid’ he thought - looking to see what fans had to say about their new show, ‘Still… at their very best.’
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you get me closer to god - matty healy x reader (part one)
boss!matty
cw: ! minors dni ! smut, age gap (20/34), power imbalance, cheating, f!reader, dom/sub, male masturbation, spit, cumplay, voyeurism, semi-public, office work affair, general filth and nasty behaviour
wc: 2.1k
8:30am
you're sat on the sofa across from matty in his office, basking in the slanted rays of sunlight that peep through the blinds. the office is warm, the air filled with a faint musky scent that's recently become a comfort to you.
he called you in early supposedly to discuss your 'behaviour in the workplace', but so far it's just been him making small talk about work and typing away, deliberately acting oblivious towards the tension in the room. he throws you the occasional glance over his computer screen, but they never linger long enough to satisfy you. you're practically twiddling your thumbs in conversation, vying for his attention any way you can by throwing in little jokes and references or tapping your fingers on the chair, but he won't budge.
his breaking point is when you clear your throat obnoxiously loudly, spreading your legs and crossing them again in your skimpy little skirt just to taunt him. and oh, it works. this time it's more than a short glance. his jaw clenches as he watches you, knuckles turning white as he balls his hands into fists. it takes everything in him not to pounce on you, as if you'd mind. you smile sweetly, a glint in your eyes as you relax into the chair.
he mutters something under his breath before shutting off his laptop and clearing away the stacks of papers that litter the space in front of him. a few pens clatter to the floor as he carelessly throws everything aside. all the while you can't stop staring at him, trying to figure out the almost unreadable expression on his face.
he taps the desk in front of him twice, gesturing with his head and looking at you expectantly. the fiery look in his eyes tells you you're in for it today. he stares intently, hungrily, as you stand up and walk around as slowly as possible, just to push his buttons. before you have the chance to get up onto the desk, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into him, making your entire face heat up.
'you know exactly what you're doing, don't you? been walking around all week in these little skirts,' he says, giving it a tug to emphasise his point. you bite the tip of your crimson painted nail and shake your head, acting naive and failing miserably. 'they leave nothing to the imagination baby, we can't be having that. nono,' he tuts, shaking his head and looking up at you disapprovingly. 'all those filthy boys in the office gawking at my girl, save it for the real man, the boss, yeah?' you feel yourself flush at his words, and all you can do is mumble out a vague 'yes' sound as your gaze wanders from his eyes to his lips and back again, almost like you're trying to memorise every detail in case he disappears.
'be good for me, darling,' he whispers, staring up at you like you're the messiah. 'mm, whatever you want,' you reply, tilting your head back as he starts running his hands up and down your body, squeezing your hips. you feel so small under his touch, acutely aware of how easy and effortless it is for him to hold so much power over you. he pulls at the fabric around your waist and you help him out by shoving the flimsy skirt down and kicking it off to the side somewhere, making his breath hitch in his throat.
without another word he lifts you up onto the desk. the cool wood touching your thighs sends a shiver up your spine, quickly being replaced by the warmth of his hands on your knees, spreading them apart without breaking eye contact. he's standing now, towering above your face and making you feel smaller than ever. 'you gonna help me out angel?'
you nod quickly, heart hammering in your chest and heat pulsing elsewhere. your thighs clamp around him, hips pushing towards the obvious bulge in his suit trousers. a condescending laugh echoes through the room. 'oh already? haven't even touched you yet and already you're fucking desperate for me,' he says, pulling your knees out from his waist. 'no, please, im just-' he cuts you off by grabbing the collar of your shirt and pushing his lips onto yours, unable to refrain from the way your voice wavers as you fall into subspace for him yet again.
the faint taste of your cherry lip balm makes him impossibly more turned on and his tongue presses into your mouth like he could just swallow you whole.
he unzips his trousers and you immediately reach out to touch him, desperate to help him, to feel him, regain some of that power, but as soon as your fingertips graze his stomach he swats your hand away and steps backwards. 'did I say you could touch me?' your head shakes of its own accord, and you whine in protest when he sits back down onto the office chair, leaving you exposed and helpless.
'you don't get to touch me or yourself. eyes on me, legs apart and keep them pretty hands behind your back unless I say, okay?' you sigh and breathe out a shaky 'okay', your head swimming at the thought of being there solely for his pleasure.
he grabs at his dick through the tight trousers and grunts at the relief. your eyes are trained on his hand, the way the veins push out as his fingers tighten around the clear outline. the way the silver band on his ring finger shines in the morning light.
you notice how his face is directly facing your cunt, drops of arousal spilling out and seeping into the baby pink cotton the longer he stares. it's getting harder and harder not to touch yourself, or him for that matter. especially when he lifts his hips and pulls down his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles. especially when he strokes along his length tantalisingly slowly, teasing the both of you. you're utterly fixated on the mouth-watering shape under the fabric, straining to be released.
he pushes his thumb under the waistband, momentarily denting the perfect shape of his rose tattoo. he moves them down, but only enough to free his cock. it's leaking already, red and angry and desperate and he groans at the feeling of the air hitting it.
'fuck, look what you do to me, love,' he says as he finally lets his hand wrap around his erection. your thighs twitch at his words.
he starts off slowly as usual. long, languid strokes as he drinks in your body in front of him, especially enraptured by the wet patch between your legs. you want nothing more than to wrap your mouth, your hand even, around him, help him feel good, but you're not in the mood of being punished today. instead you just let the coil in your stomach tighten with every little movement and sound that comes from him; let him render you an embarrassingly wet mess in front of his eyes.
you try your hardest not to squirm, not to give in and have him watch you disappointedly as you fuck yourself with your fingers selfishly, but good girls don't do that. you need to be everything he wants.
'lift up your shirt,' he huffs, teeth baring for a second as he pumps himself desperately. you oblige, gently hiking up the hem of your perfectly ironed white shirt and turning it into a vulgar sight as it touches your neck, revealing your chest to him, framed in pretty black lace that you always wear just for him.
'shit, my pretty little girl, fucking love those tits, all for me, aren't they?'
'all for you, no one else,' you reply, pushing them together and rubbing your fingers over your nipples in an attempt to ease some of the pressure inside you. you're so worked up that the simple action sends a jolt of electricity through you, making your back arch.
'what did I fucking say, leave your shirt up there, hands behind your back,' he spits. you inadvertently whimper as you obey him once again, catching the shirt under your armpits to keep it up above your tits as you place your hands back onto the hard wood behind you.
waves of humiliation crash over you at how bare you feel before him, and you have to look away for a second to regain composure.
your eyes flick to the gold rimmed photo on the wall and you can't help but wonder how long he's needed this. his appetite for you is seemingly insatiable at all times, despite the woman in white pictured next to him outside the chapel.
you're snapped out of your thoughts as a strangled groan leaves his chest. you look down and see his thumb swiping precum over the head of his cock. his hips start to buck upwards and he continues stroking up and down, faster now. you make a show of grinding up into the air as he stares at you with eyes clouded in lust. your pussy is throbbing, begging for anything, even a gust of wind, to soothe the ache that's worsening and worsening the longer you watch him getting himself off.
suddenly he stands up and comes towards you, eyebrows scrunched up in desire. he taps your jaw with one hand, the other continuing his unrelenting pace. you know the signal by now, and you open your mouth obligingly and let out a theatrical moan as he spits onto your tongue. seeing you swallow and grin devilishly up at him is what tips him over the edge.
'fuck- baby- come here,' a series of grunts falls from his lips as his chest heaves, fucking his fist hard and fast. he hooks a finger under the waistband of your underwear and pulls it outward, leaning forward so his tip is practically touching your abdomen. 'what...' you trail off, catching on to his plan as soon as spurts of cum start to dribble into your underwear, soaking and mixing into your slick.
'fucking hell,' he moans through shaky breaths. your breath catches in your throat, releasing a groan of pleasure as some of the warmth drips down and lands on your burning skin. he whimpers, eyes focused on your core and then rolling back into his head as he milks the last few drops out.
you can't help how quickly your hand goes to your aching bundle of nerves, desperate for more, hard contact, but he grabs a hold of your wrist before you get the chance. the glare he gives you makes you retract instantly, remembering his earlier orders. you lean back on your hands again reluctantly like a good girl, to please him.
he gives a satisfactory hum before gripping your neck, making you gasp and splutter with the force. even though he's a bit dazed and out of breath, the only thing that falters is his voice as he orders you around like his little plaything. 'you're gonna walk around with this pretty little cunt covered in me all day, right? come back to me at the end of the day and if you've been good I'll reward you,' as he speaks, he lets the elastic snap back against your hot skin and palms at your core through the soaked fabric. you nod and whine at the feeling of the warmth being pushed against you, the sticky mess spreading and mixing in an obscene concoction of lust, your head rolling back in ecstasy. it's wrong - so wrong - but you can't get enough.
'thank you sir,' you reply, your face burning up at the shame gnawing at the back of your mind. he rolls his eyes at how needy you look, not even 9am and you're already grinding against his hand, begging for anything he's willing to give you. 'pathetic,' he whispers, giving your cunt a light slap and dragging another sound from your lips. he slides his middle finger up his slit, collecting the milky remainder and shoves it in your mouth. he watches you moan in contentment as you lap it up, relishing in the salty taste and eventually releasing it with a pop.
without warning, all contact is lost and he's ordering you down off his desk to go back out to yours. you look up at the clock. fuck. 8:51. you scramble to get your skirt back on and fix yourself up as he pulls up his jeans with a smug look plastered on his face, throwing you a wink as he does up the zipper.
'enjoy your day sweetheart,' he smirks, grabbing your ass and pushing you out the door just before the first of your coworkers start to file into their respective cubicles. you check your reflection in a nearby computer screen to make sure you don't look as flustered as you feel, before sitting down. it's going to be a long day.
~
#boss!matty au#matty healy smut#matty healy fanfic#matty healy imagine#matty healy x reader#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 smut#matty healy#the 1975#trumanblack#matty healy fic#matty healy fanfiction#matty the 1975#ross macdonald#george daniel#adam hann
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Why Don’t You Talk to Matty About it?
word count: 2.5K
f!reader x matty
tags: angst, happy ending
warnings: alcohol, mentions of smut but no actual smut
after pining after matty since they became friends 15 years ago, it all comes to a head for y/n on a drunken night out
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You’re nearly two bottles of wine deep when she comes up to the table.
“Hiiiiii… I just wanted to say that I’m a massive fan of yours. I loooove the new album!”
She’s drunk as fuck; stumbling over her words, gripping his shoulder to keep herself steady. You feel the jealousy burning through your entire body. It’s a chore not to show it; to smile instead of scowl at her, to drink from your glass at a normal pace instead of throwing it down your throat.
He turns his head to look up at her, smiling so genuinely that you want to claw your eyes out. He’s drunk too, you can see it in the way he clumsily puts his hands over the one she has on his shoulder, eyes glazed over.
“Aw, thank you, Darlin’. We’re glad you like it.”
You feel sick. He’s looking at her so gently, like he might spook her if he doesn’t. She’s just a fan saying hello, you scream at yourself internally, stop being a fucking melt. And it almost works, you almost calm down, and then she giggles and plops herself down next to him. You breathe in sharply, tightening your grip on your glass.
George puts his hand on your thigh, and in leans in to whisper to you.
“Y/N, you need to chill out.”
George is right. You know he is. He’s always fucking right. You need to get a grip. 32 years old and so hung up on your teenage crush that you’re seriously considering squaring up to a teenager. And for what? A man who maybe looks your way twice on a good day? That’s not true. You aren’t being fair. Sometimes you think you see it in his eyes, but it disappears so fast. You can’t ever tell if it was really there. And he smiles, he smiles so softly just for you; so softly it makes you weak in the knees, makes you smile back a shit eating grin every time.
But what does it matter - he isn’t yours. You’re just ‘the friend’, the one woman he can count on to not try it on with him. He told you as much one time, sat huddled together in the freezing cold on someone’s back door step when you were 17. And what were you supposed to say to that? ‘Uhh, actually Matty…’, Yeah right. You smiled and took the fag that was dangling between his fingers, taking the longest drag you could manage so you didn’t have to reply. And here you are, over 15 years later, smiling sweetly and keeping your mouth occupied so you don’t ruin your life.
You’ve got a face like thunder, you can feel it. But you can’t stop it. You can’t stop looking at him, can’t stop the jealousy ripping through you. A jealousy you don’t really have a right to have. He’s got you all wound up. He’s not even looking at you and you’re on the edge of your seat.
But who are you kidding? He’s always got you wound up. Always got your knees on the verge of buckling, always got you hanging onto every word he says. You feel your whole body pulse every time he looks your way. You always have. It’s a curse you can’t escape. Not to be dramatic but sisyphus had it easy compared to you.
You all watch as he runs his hands up and down her waist, keeping his eyes on her. She giggles, bites her lip, clearly living out her rockstar fantasy. You want to strangle her. You wish this wine glass was her and you could just squeeze and squeeze and squeeze and-
“You need another drink, Y/N?” George asks, sensing that you need to be taken away from the table immediately.
“I would love another drink.”
-
George holds open the door to the smoking area for you.
You fumble with the packet, can’t find your lighter, realise that Matty bumped it earlier and never put it back.
“Oh for fuck’s sake!”
It’s too much. It’s the last straw. Here you are crouched down in a dingy smoking area on the verge of bawling your eyes out. All because some stupid child is holding Matty’s attention. She’s not a child, you think to yourself. She’s obviously old enough to be in here but oh what does it matter. You can’t think straight anymore.
You can’t stop thinking about his hands on her, how you wish they were on you. You’re so jealous. So jealous that she just sat down right next to him and melted onto his body. She did something in 10 seconds that you haven’t done in 10 years. And is it really that easy? Do you just need to hike your dress up, drag out your vowels, and bat your eyelashes? Will you he fuck you senseless then? Take you into the bathrooms and show you what next week looks like?
But that’s not really want you want, is it? It’s just easier to think about him if you convince yourself you only want to fuck him. That all you want is his hands in your hair and your lips on his neck. That you don’t want him in a nice, normal way at all. You don’t think about being the girl in his Instagram stories, or waking up in his arms every morning, or… or…
“This is getting pathetic, Y/N.” George’s hand is gently resting on your shoulder. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks at you with that sort of sad face you have when you can’t hide that you think someone’s being a massive twat.
“Yeah, I know. Believe me I fucking know.” You don’t mean it to sound as sad as it does. George crouches down next to you, running his hand up and down your arm.
You couldn’t count the amount of times you and George have sat like this; cuddled together as you cried about Matty. It never gets old, it’s almost a monthly event now. He joked once that you need to start marking it on the calendar for him so he can wear something he doesn’t mind you covering with makeup. You’ve become unexpectedly close. You never knew him well until that same fateful night you were put in your place by Matty. That was the first time - you sat cross legged on the kitchen counter with your lip quivering and your chest heaving, and George just held your hand until you calmed down.
“You can’t just keep crying about him. If he doesn’t feel the same way it won’t change anything; you’ll be embarrassed for a couple weeks and then it’ll all fall back into place. He’s a dick but he loves you more than anything, Y/N. You know he wouldn’t be mean about it. You know that.”
You choke back a sob. You know he’s right, it wouldn’t change anything really. You’re both adults, no one’s 16 anymore. It can be mature, you can both be sensible. But it’s always the same; gone are your inhibitions and in their place is Matty, clouding up your senses.
“I can’t do it George,” you whisper softly, wiping underneath your eyes with the sleeve of your dress, “I can’t risk losing him. I’d rather never have him the way I want and still have him here than never have him the way I want and not have him here.”
It’s too quiet. It’s quite sudden, it’s uncomfortable. It’s just a girl crying over a crush, except the girl’s in her 30’s and the crush is her best friend.
George pulls himself up off the ground, holding out his hands to help you. You take them gently and you both giggle when you fall flat on your arse. You dust yourself off and stand up properly. George takes a lighter from his pocket and lights the slightly crumpled fag you forgot you’ve been gripping onto.
“Sorry for being a massive gimp.” You laugh gently.
“S’alright, Y/L/N. My favourite thing about you.” He tries to keep his face straight but breaks into a massive grin, laughing along with you.
“I’m fine. I promise, I’m just… I don’t know, I don’t really have the words for it, to be honest with you.”
“Look, we’re gonna go back in there, get another drink, request whatever ridiculous song it takes to cheer you up, and we’re gonna have a fucking great time. Okay?”
“Okay.” You smile at him. You don’t know how anyone survives in this world without George Daniel.
He pulls you into a hug, and you can’t help but start crying again. You wipe at the tears but it does nothing other than ruin your makeup even more.
“I’m gonna look a fucking state when I go back in there.”
“Eh, it’s dark. No one will be able to tell.”
“Wow,” you laugh out, “thanks George, very reassuring.”
“Always welcome, love. Now come on, it’s fucking freezing. You can cry about being in love inside.”
As George starts to lead you back inside, you hear Matty’s voice echoing out towards you.
“Y/N? George? You guys out here? You’ve been gone for ages.” Panic pulses through you as Matty’s voice fills the smoking area.
You’re still glued to George when Matty stumbles onto you both. He looks so worried, distressed. And then he looks confused. Confused why you’re crying, why you’re clinging to George like your life depends on it.
“Yeah, yeah we’re out here. Jus’ having a chat.” George says, rubbing your back with one hand and wiping away your smudged mascara with the other.
You smile gently at Matty, not quite able to meet his eyes. You’re embarrassed, there’s really no other words for it. No excuses, no nothing, the man you’re crying your eyes out about has just wandered in on you doing it. And where do you go from there?
“Y/N? What’s going on, sweetheart? Why you crying so hard?”
He placed a hand on your check, wiping at the bottom of your eyes with his thumb. Fuck sake, your eyes begin watering again (not that they ever stopped). You don’t want to have this conversation. No one wants to have this conversation. George especially doesn’t want to be in the middle of said conversation.
“I’m Okay, Matty.”
He looks sceptical - he knows you too well for this.
“Honestly, Matty, really, I’m okay.”
Lying straight through your teeth to Matty is a fully developed talent at this stage in your life, but you just don’t have the conviction tonight. He tries to meet your eyes again. but you can’t get them off your shoes. You hear him sigh. Shame burns in you - since when couldn’t you spew shit at Matty to keep him on the wrong track?
“Darlin’… Come on, you think I don’t know you well enough to know that’s not true?”
“Matty… Please, just leave it.”
“Okay, I can’t be arsed anymore. You two are getting left to sort this out.” George makes a move towards the door, and before you can process what just happened he’s back inside.
“Fuck.” You try and run after him, but Matty grips your wrist.
“Y/N, what the fuck is going on? Why are you crying and why are you lying to me about it, Darlin’?”
His face is so gentle. His grip on your wrist has loosened but he hasn’t let go. Curls falling in his eyes, fingers on your pulse. It’s too much. It’s too much. And then his other arm snakes around your waist and you can’t do it anymore. Your chest is so tight it might combust. And your face is so hot in the cold London weather that it burns. After an eternity, you meet his eyes.
“I… I can’t… I can’t, Matty. I can’t.”
The grip tightens, he pulls you closer.
“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”
“Oh fuck off, Matthew.” You half sigh, half giggle.
“Use ‘em, come on, use ‘em. Why don’t you talk to Matty about it?”
You laugh gently, watching as his face breaks out in a smile. God he’s so pretty. His hand is still cradling your check, thumb gently gliding over your skin. You don’t want to use your words. You don’t want to talk about this at all.
“Y/N?”
“I’m fine, really. You can go back to flirting with the borderline high schooler.”
It comes out meaner than you wanted it to, and you watch as Matty’s face falls. Fuck. So much for not having this conversation.
“Her? That’s what this is about? A fan I spoke to for less than five minutes?”
You try to move away from him, your cheeks burning red from the embarrassment - like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar. But his grip on your wrist and waist tightens and he pulls you back in.
“Don’t make me do this Matty. I mean it. Please.” Tears well in your eyes, this could be it. This could be the last time Matty ever holds you like this, ever winds you up to stop you from crying. You don’t want it to end. How could you ever want this to end.
“Y/N, are you seriously jealous of a fucking 18 year old? Do you think I’d do that to you? Really? Come on, Darlin’ use that pretty head of yours.”
You’re too busy trying not to let the tears drop that you almost don’t catch the look of sheer panic in his eyes. It stops you in your tracks. Why does he look panicked? Why would he look panicked? Your heart races.
“Matty?”
“Yes, darlin’?”
You’re so close to each other you’re basically breathing the same air. His hand around your waist has been holding yours, your other hand has just been dangling at your side since you didn’t know what to do with it. You know what to do with it now; you bring it up to the hand he has on your cheek, closing your fingers over the top of his.
“What exactly would I need to use my pretty head to figure out?”
“Fuck sake…”
“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah - fucking c’mere.”
You would’ve laughed at him if you had time (and if you hadn’t been so shocked), but his lips latch onto yours before you can think about anything else. He’s so gentle with you, the hand that was on your waist comes up into your hair. He grips it softly, smiling to himself as you moan quietly.
Before you know it, it’s over. He pulls away from you, but he’s still so close you can hardly look at his face properly.
“I fucking hate you.” You sigh.
“Think that kiss would say otherwise, sweetheart.”
“Matthew, mate, honestly get fucked.”
“Waited 15 years but can’t wait another couple hours? My, my, my.”
“Will you fuck off?” You laugh, not meaning a single syllable of it.
“Never, darlin’. Stuck with me now.”
He kisses you softly again, smiling sweetly at you as he pulls away.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
#matty healy x reader#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x you#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 fic#the 1975#haven’t written fic in a hot minute won’t lie#uh been at this one since like july so i hope you enjoy?#my writing
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don’t fuck the line cooks. part two – matty healy
ever since that night in the walk-in, you can only think about the next time. hopefully if you push and prod him enough, you’ll get your way…
warnings: 18+, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, masturbation, public sex, drug use, sex under the influence, degradation, choking, overstimulation, dom/sub dynamics, authority kink, problematic age gap problematic age gaping, sleazy man is even sleazier in this somehow
part two of two
18,294 words
You lick the salt off the back of your hand, shooting the cheap tequila, immediately wincing from the taste and worsening it with a bite of tart lime. You shake your head, hoping to flick acid off your tongue.
“God,” you say for good measure. “I can’t seem to get used to this.”
Beside you, Veronica laughs, eating the lime off the rind. She gives you a green smile, features uncrinkled. She is used to this. “It’ll come with age.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re only four years older than me.”
“Yeah, but you were severely stunted for the twenty-one first years of your life, so the difference is staggering.”
“Ar-ar. You’re hilarious.”
“I know.” She flicks the lime rind on the counter, a disheveled green skin rid of meat. She licks the leftover salt off her lips— with some of her bright red lipstick, too. She grabs your wrist next, shimmying her shoulders as she reels you from the bar. “C’mon. Let’s dance.”
“My feet hurt,” you pout in mock-protest, but your limbs are loose from the booze and you’re easily whisked away to the dancefloor.
The Darling is the nearest bar from the restaurant with the cheapest alcohol. It’s a dirty thing, drenched in obscurity and the occasional neon sign, smelling like sweat and cigarettes, and sticky to walk on. It plays the same songs over and over again— every night for the past decade, the same playlist booms from the speakers. You know the tunes by heart now, screaming the lyrics without a single title coming to mind.
The Darling is where everyone crashes after shift drinks, itching for a bigger buzz and a dance. Your coworkers crowd the place, talking to the bartenders like old friends, familiarly finding the labyrinthine way to the toilets. (Find the bar, take a turn to your right, follow a dark corridor, beside the kitchen to the left.)
You’re sore and tired from a double, a neck vein nearly popped when a customer dared ask for—no, insist on a steak half rare-half medium on each side uncut. Dread filled you when you approached the kitchen, putting on a dazzling smile to transmit the ridiculous request. Sighs, and swears, and that shake of head that makes his curls bounce filled the room as he got to work, frustrated and pissed, but obedient still.
Him. You spin on your feet, finding Matty still at the bar, sipping on a dark drink with George. You smile, eyes twinkling, detaching yourself from your friend as you sway towards him. You practically fall on his side— his hand catches you at your waist, near your hip, decidedly inappropriate, but instinctive.
“Hullo,” you say in a poor imitation of their accents. George snorts. “Watcha drinking?” You ask Matty, scrunching your nose.
He arches an eyebrow, sliding the glass towards you. “Have a taste.” You grab it without hesitating, knocking a mouthful and immediately regretting it. You cough, shaking your head. That’s straight liquor. Matty laughs, soothingly rubbing a hand on your back. “You okay?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Aw, princess,” he coos, taking a sip of his whiskey and not even twitching as the bitter taste washes his mouth. “You’ll like it when you’re older.”
Again, you roll your eyes. Taking an easy dig at your age when he’s been between your thighs some nothing-days ago is hypocritical. The retort burns your tongue, but you bite it back for present company. Matty looks at you a little gleefully, like he knows, like it amuses him.
You turn to George with a smile. “What about you? Are you drinking something sane?”
He snorts. “Just a rum and coke, sweets. I’m afraid it’s not very special.”
You reach for his drink anyway and he offers it gladly, metal rings around the cool glass. You tip it, smiling at the sweetness, licking it off your lips. “George, you have much better taste.”
“Hey!”
“I know.”
“Order me a drink, will you?” You say, fluttering your eyelashes at him. As though you would even need the extra persuasion; he’s already shouting a drink at a bartender, putting it on Matty’s tab with a point of a thumb.
Matty rolls his eyes beside you, his fingers digging into your waist in warning. Something low simmers between your legs. You smirk to yourself. You like the feel of that.
“There you go,” George says, passing you the orange drink that’s been slapped on the counter. “A sweet drink for a sweet girl.”
You smile gratefully at him, tasting it. It’s fruity and light; your lips stretch up. “Thanks, George.”
“‘Course.”
Ross crashes in your group, swinging an arm over George’s shoulder, clearly smashed. “Mate, they fixed the PacMan machine.”
“No way. Is my score still on it?”
“DICKH3AD bright and red!” With a laugh, the two of them whisk away to the arcade game, off somewhere to the left, tucked between two tables.
You’re alone with Matty now. A thrill resonates within you— it’s silly. It’s not like he’s gonna bend you over this bar and take you right this moment, in front of anyone. It’s not like he’s done anything of the sort since the walk-in fridge. Still, you spin to face him, arching an eyebrow, practically inviting him to.
He sees the meaning tacked onto your eyelashes, clear as day, yet he does nothing but grin to himself, taking a sip of his awful whiskey on rocks.
You huff, opting for another strategy. “Are you upset I asked George to order me a drink?” You try instead, hoping to prod and poke until he snaps again— finally.
Matty smirks. “I’d have picked something lighter. Little girl like you can’t handle her liquor yet.” He pouts, “She’s just started drinking.” Your fingers grip around the glass, something hot and shameful dripping inside of you.
“Why? Have plans for me I can’t be drunk for?”
Matty leans back on his stool, properly looking at you. His gaze licks up your naked legs, your short skirt, your white top. Your heart beats twice as fast. Subconsciously, you straighten, needing to be taller, older, more mature. To satisfy, to excel.
“If I said yes, would you not drink it?” His eyes flick to the orange glass between your clenched hands. It’s barely sipped, condensation running on your fingers. He meets your gaze next. There’s a game of chess, and you can’t seem to figure out what he wants. How to win.
You want to win. You need to win. You feel it throbbing between your legs, that desperate urge.
You drop the glass on the counter. It clinks on the wood, then settles, pretty and discarded. His turn.
Matty smiles, satisfied. He stands from his stool, and a surge of excitement shoots up your spine. You don’t need the alcohol when you have him anyway.
Matty leans in, then pats your shoulder. “The boys are waiting for me.” He sidesteps you, then gets lost into the crowd. You watch him go, mouth parted in offense and disbelief.
What a fucking dickhead. You make a low noise of annoyance, taking your glass and slurping half of it down in rebellion. You march to one of the empty booths, rage twisting your guts.
You just want him to fuck you. It’s been five days. What is he waiting for?
You slide into the sticky bench, ruminating in your anger as you chew on the plastic blue straw of your cocktail.
“Hey,” Landon, a server, nods at you as he pulls into the opposite side of the booth. You nod back. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m growing tired of The Darling’s playlist.”
“Take two shots. It’ll be back.”
“Sage advice.” He tips his chin towards your drink. “Are you taking revenge for turtles or has this straw personally wronged you?”
You sigh, letting go of the plastic, pushing the glass away from you. “It’s killed my family. Arson, you see? It was brutal.”
“I would offer my condolences, but that would mean my boss is dead, and I’m not the biggest fan of his. Would a muted hooray be acceptable?”
You huff, smirking at him. “Bold of you to tell the boss’ daughter.”
“Well, I’m quite drunk.”
You smile. “I’ll cheer to that.” You knock your empty glass to his beer mug.
Landon gasps. “In the eyes,” he chastises. “Or it’s seven years of bad sex.” You laugh, opening your eyes comically wide to cheer him next. You’ve just broken the curse. You’re not about to be pulled back into mediocre hookups now. “Better,” he nods, finally taking a sip of his beer.
You haven’t talked to Landon much before, nothing other than pleasantries and the quick quips exchanged between two tables. You quickly find that he’s funny, pulling snorting laughs out of your tipsy mouth as he recounts some of his worst customer stories like grand, epic tales. He offers sips of his beer graciously, then buys you your own when the supply is diminishing. You don’t even like beer, but you accept the gift nonetheless, letting the awful taste fizz in your mouth and slacken your head.
A hand over your mouth, you half-hide your laugh as it bursts out of you. “I can’t believe you would say that!”
“And I got fired for it,” Landon argues, screaming a defense.
“Well, obviously—”
“What’s the funny story?” Both of you jump in surprise at the intruder. Turning towards the voice, you find Matty sliding in the booth next to you.
Already, he takes his place like he owns it, spreading through the leather seats. His legs part comfortably, his thigh sticks to yours, his arm hangs over the back of the booth, tickling your nape. He wraps a hand around your beer, pulling it towards him, taking a sip shamelessly. He sits like he owns you.
You roll your eyes, taking back your mug, though you hold it between your hands and don’t drink it. Silence reigns around the table. Neither you or Landon feel particularly inclined to talk.
“C’mon,” Matty pokes, looking back and forth between the two of you. “I want to know the funny story.”
“It’s just about this customer at my old job who was an asshole,” Landon laughs easily to his credit. “Bet you heard a thousand like it before.”
“Yeah,” Matty nods, “I bet I did.” There’s something dark in his eyes, in the intensity of his gaze on Landon, like there is some hidden insult he’s supposed to catch.
Matty’s eyes fall on you next, flicking to the beer and then back to your daggering glare, cocking his head condescendingly. “I didn’t know you liked beer.” He says it like some genuine question, but you know he knows the answer.
“It’s okay,” you say tightly.
“Mmh, yeah,” Matty smirks. “I’m sure Landon could give you a lot of okay things.” Your smile crisps on your face. The fucking asshole.
“Landon,” you practically shout, turning towards him in a desperate attempt to ignore Matty. “I heard you were applying for the position of lead server?”
Matty snorts. “Did your daddy tell you that?”
You grit your teeth, “As a matter of fact, yes.” You smile at Landon. “He wanted my opinion. I’ll tell him I think you’d be great.”
“Thanks,” he smiles at you genuinely. “I promise I won’t call anyone a raging hormonal grade A wanker.”
You laugh. “Oh, please do if I ever need it.” You shake your head, twisting the beer in your hands, but still avoiding the aftertaste that would linger in your mouth. “Yesterday, I had a woman who—”
Matty’s hand rests on your naked thigh, cold from the glass and a smoke outside, rough in sinfully familiar ways, spreading over your leg like this, too, he owns. You stifle a gasp. The words die in your mouth.
“Who what?” Matty encourages you, frowning at you like he’s not perfectly aware of what he’s doing under the table.
As though he’s trying to entirely rob the words out of your mouth, he trails his fingertips up and down your thigh, raising goosebumps on the skin. You throw him a glance with some furious demand to quit it, but there’s a deeper need for him to do just the opposite.
You rake your throat, flipping back to Landon. “She came in already pissed and prissy, telling me she’s never gotten a good experience here. Why she bothers to come back is completely beyond me. I mean, you would think she would give up then, because—”
Matty’s hand dips to your inner thighs and your lips hang open, mind shortcircuiting. Without even thinking, you spread them for him, giving him further space. He smirks at that, at the resounding blush on your cheeks as you realize what you’ve done.
He presses into the meat of your leg, one finger at a time, so you’re so aware of him you might get dizzy. His pinky slips under the hem of your skirt, inching close to inappropriate.
“Um, anyway,” you laugh awkwardly, desperate to get through this story. Your face heats up, the knowledge of Matty’s teasing under the table — in front of Landon — burning at your mind. Matty chuckles beside you. You rake your throat. “I try to do my best, you know— smile so fucking wide I could rip my cheeks— but she’s just asking me stupid question after stupid question like this is an interrogatory or something.”
Your eyes flicker between Landon and Matty, moving from amused eyes to a condescending nod, urging you on as a warm hand slips further and further up your thigh. Pleasure wakes up in your belly— just a little, just the idea of what it could be. God, you need him, and the worst is that he knows, staring at you so fucking cocky and proud.
You stutter, “And— And she speaks to me like I’m the dumb one in this interaction! I mean, she’s asking me the size of our salad leaves because if they’re too big then I’ll have to cut them and yet—”
Matty’s finger meets the apex of your thighs. You jump, hips rolling into his hand, hand flying to your mouth to cover a moan you just barely avoid letting out. You need this story over.
Matty seems to predict your plan to wrap it up, wasting no time to linger and tease and brush, instead rubbing his fingers up and down, pressing into your soaked underwear. You clamp around his hand, biting your lip.
“So she pulled me every which way during my whole shift and—” He finds your clit easily, pressing on it through the cloth, making lazy circles that have your legs shaking under the table nonetheless. Pleasure rushes up them, burning with memory and apprehension.
Your voice trembles as you continue, “—and I had to scream in the fridge so I wouldn’t lunge at her from the table—” You make the mistake of looking Matty’s way and he grins at you knowingly, the crow’s feet by his eyes denting as he licks mischief off his lips. His fingers push your underwear aside.
You grip his wrist under the table, but he gathers a pool of your arousal still, as though to point out how much this little game is actually affecting you, no matter your useless protests. Your breath hitches. He pinches your bud meanly. Your head spins and spins deliriously.
You focus on Landon, rushing out. “And then she tipped me 2%.” You grin at him cartoonishly big and fake, practically screaming, “Your turn!”
“I think I remember that,” Matty cuts in before Landon can say anything. He teases your entrance and a jolt of ecstasy zaps through you. He smirks, “You screaming in the walk-in.” You glare at him, remembering being so wet and tired in the fridge you thought you might liquify and melt on the floor, holding onto his back for dear life as he thrusted inside of you, over and over, finding that perfect spot that had you screaming.
You’re red and hot and fuck it. You stand up, his hand falling out of your skirt. “Actually, I need a smoke.”
Matty stands up beside you. “I have a pack.” You’re off before Landon can add anything, lost to the swallowing crowd of drunk service workers.
You make a beeline for the bar. Matty catches up to you easily, knocking against your side, clearly so fucking pleased with himself. If you weren’t so turned on you think you could actually catch fire, you might tell him to fuck off.
You turn to the right into a dark corridor. “He wasn’t flirting with me,” you say through gritted teeth because you would like to at least establish that.
Matty snorts. “Don’t be naive. He fucking wanted you.”
“It’s not because I have a conversation with a guy that we’re automatically about to get it on.”
He scoffs. “I know guys, and I know that guy would have gotten it on with you right there on the fucking table if you had asked.” You roll your eyes, which only seems to piss him off. “And what were you doing giggling at him?”
“Am I not allowed to laugh?”
“Landon isn’t that fucking funny. The guy barely has enough wit to sustain a conversation.”
“You don’t even know him,” you protest with a disbelieved laugh. Kitchen. To the left.
“I’ve worked with the bloke for three years. If he’s told a joke in that time, I’ve yet to be around to hear it.”
You push the bathroom door, giving him a prissy look behind your shoulder. “Well, you’re missing out. Maybe you should talk to people other than waitresses half your age—” The bathroom door slams behind the both of you. Matty grabs both your cheeks and crashes his mouth against your lips. He shuts you up with a heated tongue and sure, callused fingers on your skin, and it works.
You part your mouth instinctively, kissing him back with fervor and unbridled need. Adrenaline shoots up your spine, alongside childish glee, the thrilled knowledge that this is finally happening. The argument is a faraway concept you don’t care about.
Your hands dig into his back, clutching on the flimsy material of his washed-out white shirt, wishing to rip it off of him. He groans into your mouth, tilting his head and kissing you harder.
Matty pushes you against the door, fixing you in place with a hand on your hip and another palming roughly at your breast. You moan in his mouth, lick into his with devotion. Your fingers hide in the mess of his curls, tugging. Hoping it makes him a little crazy— the instinct to poke and prod and tug for something still boiling inside of you.
And it works. His fingertips dig into your hip, pressing meanly into the bone, and he shivers. He kisses you with abandon, stealing each breath from your mouth until you’re drunk on the lack of oxygen and him. He tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, and you kiss and kiss and kiss until your mind swirls lazily in your skull.
He bites your lip, tugging it and releasing it with a smirk. You whine, so fucking wet it drips down your thighs, titling your hips in hope of finding some friction. You tremble between his arms and you know, desperately, deliciously, annoyingly, that he has you right where he wants.
“Please,” you whisper in the dark of the bathroom, already pleading your case like you know you’ll have to. Matty licks his lips, digging under the risen hem of your skirt. “Please, please, please, Matty,” you rush immediately again, rolling your hips against nothing.
“What do you want?”
“You.” You take his wrist, puppeteering his hand up and up until it finds the wet patch of your underwear. You bite your lip, a gasp seconds away from spilling. “Your fingers.”
“Mine, huh?” He says, and indulgently slips your underwear aside. This time, nothing stops the resulting breathy moan. “Those fingers?” He brushes up your entrance, finding your clit and rubbing gently at it.
You roll your eyes, letting your last hand fall to his shoulder and clutching it for support. “Yes.” As though satisfied with your answer, he rewards you with speed, circling and swiping at you until your face breaks open with a silent moan. Pleasure blooms in your belly. Finally. Every aching muscle in you sings in unabashed thrill. “Fuck, Matty.”
He dips into your neck, kissing and licking at the delicate curve, climbing up your jaw. He’s unrelenting between your thighs and you simply grip his wrist, letting yourself be washed with euphoria. Those calluses might kill you one day.
“You’re so fucking desperate for me,” he says, and though the words are harsh, the tone is reverent. He looks down at you, at your body bending and parting just for him, at your pleading stare, at your red, panting mouth. Devours the sight. “Got you so fucking ready just from touching you under the table. Did you like it, princess? Liked being bad? Liked getting fingered in front of your little buddy?”
You nod furiously. Pleasure loosens your head enough to lose the inherent need to be a rule-abiding, prim, moral girl. Yes to taboo, yes to indency, yes to anything if it’s him.
“Bet he’d be so upset if he saw you now. Should we go get him? Give him a show?” Faintly, you shake your head, embarrassment and ecstasy spinning your mind. You moan into his neck, desperate. Your hips grind against his hand for more.
He presses into your clit, making your eyes roll with a gasp. “He’d love to see you like this. Fucked out when I’ve barely even touched you. Making the prettiest sounds ever. God, I could fucking hear them all day. All desperate and whiney, like you can’t get enough of me.” He rubs at you twice as fast just to hear you whimper, muffled by a bite of his shoulder. His name drowns in the fibers, shirt wet by a slack mouth.
“I can’t,” you admit, shaking in his arms.
“Fucked the old, dirty man at work and now you can’t fucking live without his cock, right? What would they all think if they saw you, cockdrunk and fucking begging for it?”
“Yes! Just— Fuck, just do something, sir.”
“So fucking wet for me,” he coos, all proud and pleased. You grin, letting go of his shoulder to press kisses up his neck. He shudders. “We should show them, right? At least let them hear it.” Two of his fingers dip to your entrance and enter, slowly, letting the pornographic, squelching sound resonate through the quiet room. “There you go.”
You’re too blissed out to care how it sounds, too busy getting used to the delicious stretch of his digits to fully notice how each thrust makes sopping, wet noises. You shiver, gripping his shoulder, biting wherever you can get your teeth into. Matty groans in your ear and you grin, happy.
“No one can fuck you like this,” Matty whispers, and indulgently speeds up his movement, curling into you as a reminder.
Euphoria coils in your belly, familiarly burning and tightening the strings of your body. You shake your head. “No one,” you agree, religious.
“No one can get you off.”
Again, you grip his shoulders, promising, “No one.” And it’s true. Even your own hand has been a poor replacement to the art he can draw on your skin, making your body sing like his favorite instrument. His thumb rolls at you in tandem, a fast, harsh tempo. “Fucking hell,” you cry and scrunch your face.
He smirks, whispering, “No one can see you like this.”
“No one, Matty. Only you.”
Matty kisses your cheek, a serpent smile on his lips. He coos in the shell of your ear, “Then why were you flirting with him?” He doesn’t want you to mistake his sweet tone: he pulls out of you.
Your eyes flash open, fear gripping your guts. Your cunt already misses him, throbbing around nothing. The taste of pleasure lingers on your teeth, just out of reach.
“I wasn’t,” you try to plead, but Matty’s already stepping away from you. Your arms fall to your side. Matty nods, but it doesn’t reassure anything in you, now hyperaware of the dangerous gleam in his eyes. “I swear, Matty. I didn’t— He just made me laugh.” You shake your head, chuckling, “Who fucking cares about Landon Williams?”
Your hand reaches out, grabbing his and drawing it back under your raised skirt. You brush it against your soaked underwear, biting your lip as it makes contact. You whisper, “He doesn’t do this to me.”
Matty is unimpressed. “Of fucking course not.” He bites, pulling away. You pout, displeased, too empty to think. He crosses his arms before you get any other ideas. “Did you finish that drink, princess?” Your cheeks heat up and you look down, caught. He snorts meanly. “Say it.”
“Yes, but—”
He cuts you off, furrowing his eyebrows in a comical pout, as though speaking to a little child. “Where did my good little girl go? So fucking eager to please. Brought up with manners and all, right?”
He takes a step, tilting your chin up with a strong thumb. You part your lips, readied and offered, pleading. “You taste like beer,” he whispers, and then offers a solution: two wet fingers, just out of reach. The message clicks. You don’t hesitate.
You get on your tiptoes, sticking your neck out to catch the digits and suck them between your lips. You roll your tongue around them, moaning with a full mouth, letting the tangy taste of you linger. You release him with a pop, grinning up at him proudly.
You keep it wide open, waiting, and he smirks at you. Knowing exactly what you’re asking for, he bends and spits in your mouth. Sick pleasure fills your mind and you moan, swallowing it, barely catching your breath that he’s muttering, “You’re so fucking dirty,” and falling on your lips.
You kiss him back eagerly, trying to keep up with his angry, furious pace. You’re wound up so tight you might burst from any touch: just a brush, just a flick, just a thrust and you’d be screaming his name, falling apart on his callused hand.
“Matty,” you beg between two kisses. You throb around nothing.
“Taste much better, sweetheart,” he breathes.
He presses a kiss on your lips, then pulls away from you again. You’re whining before he’s even had time to unwrap you from his arms, release your tits from his palms. You frown at him. You’ve done everything he asked.
“Let this be a lesson, princess.”
“Are you fucking serious?” You cross your arms, fuming. He’s really gonna leave now? Matty seems a bit too happy at your reaction, watching you like his favorite entertainment.
He smiles, stroking your hair. “How else are you supposed to learn?” He pouts. “If I can’t have my good girl, I’ll make her.” He brushes the saliva and gloss off your lower lip, then opens the bathroom door.
It falls close with a slam. You stare at the graffitied, dirty mirror and think you might murder someone.
—
Matty is sizzling some meat, twisting salt and pepper above it. The kitchen staff runs around him— they’re late, falling behind because of a missing aioli sauce.
You wait for your plate and dagger him with a glare. You’re still sticky and unsatisfied from yesterday; you spent until the early hours of the day rubbing between your thighs, desperately trying to satisfy some itch.
Matty’s eyes rise up as though feeling the handmark of your stare on him. They lock with yours, take in your displeased, furious look, and he smirks. Winks at you. You grab the hot plate sliding across from you with a huff.
Walking away with a balancing tray, you secretly wish for him to tug you into the nearest bathroom until the whole restaurant knows his name. He doesn’t, of course, and you find your hungry guests with the fakest, biggest smile of all.
—
The restaurant is eerily calm before the dinner rush, a few seated tables scattered across sections: rushed parents and elderly folks slurping soup. You have just enough of a break to chug the bottle of water you keep at the host stand, pestering Adam as you finally have a minute to quench your thirst.
Veronica finds you at the stand, leaning both elbows on the wood as she smiles sickly sweet at you. Your eyes narrow in apprehension. “I just got asked something interesting.” You arch an eyebrow. “Landon wants to know if you and Matty are a thing. Said Matty practically pissed all over you two days ago.”
Your lips don’t even twitch. “Okay.”
Veronica gives you an expectant look. “Well?”
Beside you, Adam turns to his computer and decidedly chooses to ignore this. “I am not part of this conversation,” he declares.
You roll your eyes. “We’re not a thing.”
Veronica laughs. “Oh, come on. No one here is blind. You guys eyefuck so much sometimes we feel like we’re intruding just by picking up a plate.” Admittedly, your cheeks heat up slightly at that. You didn’t think you were that obvious.
She sighs, giving you a serious look. “Just be careful. I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into. He’s not like the little goody-goody boyfriends you’ve had. He’ll eat you alive.”
You flutter your eyelashes, faux doe-eyed. “Promise?”
“Reservations, tables, tables. Mmh, chairs.”
You give her a look, entirely ignoring Adam’s interjection. “I’m young, Vee, but I’m not stupid. I’m telling you there’s nothing going on. We’re just having sex.” You click your tongue. “And even then, we’ve only done it, like, once. Once and a half at most.”
“And a half?” Adam pipes up, then seems to remember who you’re talking about. He raises one hand, shaking his head, defeated. “I don’t even want to know.” He practically bends over the stand to see the computer, as though if he just got close enough to the screen, he could be sucked into its world.
“I’m leaving for college in less than two months,” you continue. “I’m not trying to date him, or whatever other tragic ways you think he’s gonna break my heart.” You smirk, shrugging, “I just find the gray hair hot.” Veronica snorts at that.
Still, there’s something relieved in her eyes. Maybe even proud. She smiles at you, then turns to Adam. “And what does Matty have to say about it?”
“No comments.”
She gasps, facing you with an excited grin. “That means he’s talked about you!” You bite your lip. Could he have? What did he say?
Veronica is already on it. She pokes Adam’s arm, forcing him to look up at her. “What has he said? C’mon.” She gives him a solemn look, holding her heart. “This is a safe space.”
“That it’s none of my business,” Adam deadpans. “And neither is it yours, brat.”
Before Veronica can add anything, a family of four enter the door, wiping off their sweaty, red foreheads. They laugh as they approach the stand, mentioning the weather. Adam practically jumps to greet them, begging them to follow him.
“I’m sitting them in your section. That’ll give you something useful to do,” Adam hisses at Veronica, and she pokes her tongue out at him.
She waits until he’s just out of earshot to trail, “Now that he’s gone…” She faces you with a smirk, rounding the stand and joining you. She gives you a teasing look, biting back a grin. “How was the sex?” You can’t stop the smile shining on your face. It breaks your cheeks. She gasps. “Oh, I knew it. Julia said he was the best sex of her life, too.”
“She didn’t lie,” you admit, flushed. You cock your head. “You haven’t slept with him?” You’re almost surprised. For all her don’t fuck the line cooks warnings, you had assumed she must have been burned before.
“Nah,” she shakes her head. She trails, teasing, “I was too busy with Ross.”
“Hypocrite!”
“I never said anything about bartenders!” But before you can tease her more, Adam calls her name and Veronica’s off with a spin and four menus, blowing you a kiss.
—
It’s dark outside. The street lamps slope over cars, bathing the street in semi-obscurity. You cross your arms, some pretend at a shield. The crew has long left for The Darling while you finished up your closing duties. You wiped your forehead and found yourself too tired to handle another boozy, dancy night, to wake up the next day still a little drunk and off-kilter for a grueling Saturday shift.
Something catches the corner of your eye. Your head turns, squinting to be sure you’re not mistaken. No, it really is Matty’s car parked in the alleyway. You’d recognize the dirty, beat-up thing anywhere for all the rides it has given you—not in the sense you would like. At least you can ask for one now, avoid the stressful walk home, clenched and quick, holding keys between your fingers.
You dip into the dark alleyway, walking the cigarette butts-lined path. The car is smoky, a gray curtain to the outside world. You frown, knocking on the window of his backseat. Matty opens the door, bloodshot eyes staring at you, eyebrow arching. He holds a joint in one hand and the door’s handle in the other. The earthy smell attacks your nostrils; you scrunch your nose.
“Don’t let the smoke out,” Matty chastises, sliding away to leave a spot beside him.
Your brain throbs in your head. Flashes of grand preachy speeches given to friends as they passed bongs at parties come back to you. Embarrassingly, you flush and step into the car, closing the door behind you.
Matty grins at you, pleased, taking a hit of his joint and blowing the smoke into the car. The air is heavy and thick, pressing against your skin. This is such a bad idea.
“What are you still doing here?” You ask. He pointedly looks at the joint as though obvious. You roll your eyes. “You could do that at home.”
He shrugs, “Didn’t want to.”
“Are you gonna drive?”
“Was planning to, yeah.” Your lips part for a scathing, moralizing reply, but he cuts you off, repeating in that same tone of yours, “Are you gonna give me a sermon?”
You scowl. “Was planning to, yeah.” Matty chuckles. He knows you far too well already.
“I’d leave if I were you, princess. This car’s becoming a hotbox.”
You should, of course. Weed has carcinogens, and causes lung damages, and slows development, and wrecks the body’s natural nutrient reserve, and all the other priggish arguments you’ve known and repeated by heart.
But Matty has a loose grin you find a little adorable. Gray-streaked hair flops as he leans his head on the backseat, lips drooping with the weight of the joint. The shape of them is addictive, a perfect O as he blows smoke out, just like he would on the inside of your thighs to get you to jump and squirm for him.
Your breath is heavy. You feel stuck to the leather seats, skin gluing you in place to watch and rewatch the show he gives you.
And, really, you’re a little curious about what weed is. Your friends have all indulged at some time or the other; your dormmate used to crack a window, light a candle, and infest the room with the earthy smell as if it would cover any of it up; even your mom would laugh and wave smoke away when you caught her off the clock with her coworkers back in LA.
Matty laughs, languid and slack and, fuck, it’s such a pretty sound. “You don’t want to, do you?” He teases. Your cheeks heat up. “It’s okay, princess. Don’t even need to smoke it. Just breathe the air and save your pretty pink lungs. You can even do your little speech to me if it’ll make you feel better.”
“Don’t condescend me,” you say, as though there’s not something sick in you that enjoys when he does it. Matty raises two arms in a show of innocence, cheeky as they fall down. He knows you like it, too.
“My apologies, darling.” In complete contradiction, he spreads his knees and looks down at his lap, telling you, “Come sit on my knee.” And in complete contradiction to your warning, you do just what he asks.
You don’t even think about it; you’re scooping yourself up and dropping on his knee, biting your lip as you settle over his tough jeans. His hand loosely holds your hip, looking at you pleased.
Now that you’re on his lap, close enough to count his eyelashes, to lick the smoke off his lips, you feel yourself growing needy. The memory of a stolen orgasm in a dark bathroom comes back to you in hot flashes. You have to think about stilling your hips to stop you from grinding on his knee.
“Are you serious about this?” He asks, arching an eyebrow. You’re not sure what he’s referring to, but the answer’s the same anyway;
“Yes.”
He taps your hip. “Open your mouth, princess.” You’re flushing as you do so, imagining him spitting in it, slipping two fingers and making you slobber your sermon around them. Instead, he takes a hit of his joint and blows it into your mouth. You inhale as he’s taught you. “Good,” he grins. “You remember how.”
“It’s not rocket science,” you bite, deadpan.
“You’re right. Smart girl like you. This is nothing at all.” It hits true, strumming the right chords inside of you. You shift on his knee, holding back the shameful groan that threatens to spill out at the friction. It’s really not fair that he makes you sit here, close enough to kiss and rub and grind until you’re dripping on his lap, and not do it.
Maybe you’re starting to feel something. Your body is light and slack, a pleasant buzz resonating through you. You feel relaxed, more than you have in years, always strung high, clenched and straight-backed. A giggle threatens out of you.
Maybe it’s why you say, “I think you should fuck me.” Though, really, it’s all just an excuse for the fact that it’s all you’ve thought about for the past week, ever since that night in the walk-in fridge. You should do it again. Right now. Please. Over and over, like the beating drums of an earworm song.
Matty smiles, indulgent. “Is that so?” You nod frantically. His fingers dig into your hip. He takes another hit, ever casual. “D’you think you deserve to?”
“Yes.”
“How so?”
“I—” You huff. Well, yes, maybe you haven’t really been anything but a brat recently, wearing low-cut tops and winking at other line cooks in hopes of riling him up. But it’s really his fault for getting you so fucking ready you’re begging for him, then walking off. You pout at him. “Please.”
“Ah-ah,” he says, tugging on your lip with his thumb, smearing your lipgloss. “None of that.” Being cute won’t seem to work this time.
“I’ll earn it,” you say desperately.
“How?”
Your mind scrambles. An idea sparks in your mind. You rise from his knee, then you get on yours in the cramped spot of the backseat.
You look up at him, blinking innocently, hand traveling up his thigh. Matty takes the joint to his lips, but you can see from the way his chest rises and falls in quick succession that he’s worked up. Good. You fucking have him.
You might be inexperienced, an unknower of pleasure, but if there’s one thing you can do, it’s a fucking blowjob.
“Go on, then,” Matty says, choked. “Earn it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Your greedy hands finally find his waistband. You undo the button, fingers frantic as they work his jeans down enough to reveal his half-hard cock. You lick your lips, staring up at him while you wrap around his length.
He hisses, bucking into your fist. His dark eyes are locked in yours, barely willing to move away from your face to take a good look at the little show your hand is giving him. It’s like he wants to see you, pupils wide and lips swollen, so fucking turned on and ready just to suck his cock.
You slide up, swiping your hand up to his tip, collecting the precum and spreading it down. It’s a slow pace, meant to tease, to beguile him. Get him so ready for you he’s begging for once.
You repeat the motion over and over, never in any kind of repeated rhythm for him to really get used to anything. His cock hardens in your hand until it’s standing proud and ready. Matty breathes heavily, letting a low sound out every time you brush his tip. You smirk every time, teasing your nails on his sensitive skin.
“Stop teasing,” Matty warns. His hips fuck into your fist every time you slide down, silently begging for more.
You cock your head, blinking up at him innocently. “Where are your manners?”
“Careful,” he says with a dangerous tone. His eyes gleam. “You don’t want me to teach you another lesson.”
You giggle. You dip your head down, kissing his tip. A moan spills out of him and you flash your teeth at him. You lower a little, pressing another kiss, then again, and again, until his whole cock is covered in tacky lipgloss.
Your tongue sticks out to lick a stripe up his length, rounding his tip. Just when he’s ready to feel your warm mouth embrace him, you give him another sweet kiss. He curses under his breath. “You think you’re funny.”
You lick mischief off your lips, staring up at him with a cheeky grin. “Say please.”
His hand free of the joint rakes through your hair, grabbing a handful of it and tugging until you look up at him. Pleasure sparks from your head to your toes, reveling in the sensation. He sees right through you.
He lets go of your hair, soothing the sting as he travels down your temple, your cheek, your chin, pushing a thumb between your lips and parting them. Thrill gathers in your belly. Your mouth hangs wide open, breathing harshly. “Do it or I will.”
It’s his turn to be cocky, spotting how you shift on your knees at the graphic images he puts in your head. His hands in your hair, sure and strong as he fucks up into your— No. You want to show him what you can do, prove you’re not just some lost little girl.
You laugh, sucking around his thumb then releasing it. Saliva coats it, and it dries on your cheek as he caresses it. “You’re no fun,” you tease, pouting.
“Shouldn’t fuck a crass man if you wanted pleases and thank yous,” he retorts. “But then, you wouldn’t enjoy it, would you? Need to be railed dirty to get off, right?”
Instead of answering— too proud to give him the yes he’s right to expect, you suck his tip into your mouth. He makes a low whine, patting your hair, swearing under his breath as you roll your tongue around him. “That’s a good girl,” he coos. “Take me in now.”
There’s the instinct in you to do just the opposite, the born and bred need to be difficult, but you give in anyway, a bigger want to be extra good for him. You push him past your lips, lowering until he hits your throat. “Fuck,” he chokes. You smile around him, then bob your head.
You set a steady pace, stroking what you can’t fit with your fist. The car fills with wet, gagging noise and those puffy breaths he takes. Your tongue sticks out, licking his length as it passes him, making him shiver under you.
“Give me your hand,” he demands. You offer it without thinking, reaching up towards him palm-out.
He takes your wrist and spits on your hand. Saliva drips on your palm as he lowers it back to his cock. He wraps your fingers around him, pumping himself once, then twice, then releasing you. You keep going to the same pace he set, cursing around his length, somehow more turned on now.
Your hand works in tandem with your mouth. You leave his cock just long enough to spit on it yourself, spreading the saliva until he’s wet and messy, then bringing him back between your swollen lips. Precum and drool sticks to your chin, but you bob with a mission, uncaring of the sopping sounds that come out of your mouth.
“Ah,” he groans. His head falls back on the seat, spreading his thighs as if to give you more space. You quicken your moves in response, trying to coax more pretty sounds of him. “Shit. Fucking hell,” he laughs.
His eyes roll back, and he takes a hit of his dwindling joint. You stare at his lips as he does so, still as sickly fascinated by him smoking as you’ve always been. The car drenches in smoke, an added mix to the condensation dripping on the windows.
Matty’s face pulls down to look at you, right as you swallow him up with an especially deep trust. He makes a whine, caresses your hair. Sees the way your eyes are dark and aroused for him, obsessed. “D’you want another hit?” He asks, cheeky.
You release his cock, out of breath. “Yes.” Your hand continues to jerk him as you smile at him.
“Magic word?”
You scoff. “Coming from you?”
He laughs. “C’mon. How many tutors taught you all those good girl manners? Can’t destroy all that hard work. I don’t want to corrupt you too much.” Your eyes narrow at him. Your thumb swipes on his tip, stroking him quickly. He jumps at that, moaning. Matty shakes his head, hair flopping with it. “Minx.”
“Please,” you say, because you know it’s a lost battle to do anything but. You brush his tip on your lips, kitten-licking him, like some added argument. He smiles proudly.
“Of course, princess.” The joint comes to you, end faced towards you, just enough out of reach that you have to kneel up to wrap your lips around it. You take a drag, tipping your head back as you blow it out.
Your body feels hazy, tingling pleasantly throughout. There’s a loose smile on your lips as you bend down to swallow him back in your mouth. Euphoria twists in your mind, pulling at the strings of you, and you double in efforts eagerly, happily.
You bob quicker, deeper, moaning around his length. You breathe through your nose, trying not to gag every time he hits the back of your throat. It’s all worth it for the swears he mutters under his breath, low groans filling the car. Every fucked-out praise shoots you straight to the core. You’re dripping on the floor, wet and empty and begging for him.
“My perfect girl,” he praises, a whiny, worshiping sound. “So pretty on her knees for me. Fucking drooling everywhere.” You laugh at that, feeling saliva drip down your cheeks. “You were made for my cock, weren’t you? Made for me.”
You try to agree, but it’s a slobbering mess around his dick. The vibrations are enough; his eyes roll back into his skull, his hips jump. You choke on his length, releasing him with a cough, then diving back to work.
“Can’t fucking get enough of me,” he says. His hand caresses your hair, a soothing motion. “D’you want more?”
You nod around him. He smiles, gripping a hand in your hair. The sting gives you the same reaction as before; you moan around him, toes tingling. He pushes your mouth deeper around him. This time, you expect it; breathing through your nose, you welcome him in your throat.
“There you go,” he whines. He can’t stop looking at you, at the mess of your mouth. “So fucking filthy.” Again, he presses you down. A moan spills out of him. You grip his knee with your free hand.
Matty controls your head, pushing it deeper and deeper around his cock, making the most fucked-out noises from the feel of it. You pump him with your hand every time he pulls you up to his tip, stroking back to the base as he lowers you down. He does it quicker and quicker, setting a fast pace. Again, you shift on your knees, trying to soothe away that burning need between your thighs.
Matty spots it immediately. “Are you wet?” He taunts, though it’s a little ridiculous when he’s out of breath and on the edge of a moan. You nod around him, a little whine coming out, and he smirks. “Soaked ‘cause you’re sucking my dick, huh? If I knew it got you going like this, I would have had your mouth around me every single fucking day, darling.” And it’s not like you would have objected, considering you’re the one who’s been practically chasing him for the past week.
“Dirty girl. They all think you’re so innocent, but I know.” He smirks. “Bet your father would love to know what I’m doing to his precious girl.” Need and shame burn inside of you, and you can’t figure out which one makes you flush and your mind spin. Cockiness drips from his tongue as he trails, “‘S not my fault his daughter loves my cock, right?” You don’t know whether to nod or shake your head, instead moaning around him.
Matty reaches the joint out, telling you, “Hold that.” You frown. It’s unlit by now, useless, and he could certainly throw it anywhere in the backseat to fish it out later. It’s not like his car is clean; trash litters it, cigarette burns scar the leather, and the smell of weed is permanent. Still, you don’t question it, unwrapping your hand from his cock to take the joint.
It becomes apparent, then, why he asked you. Raking two hands through your hair, he keeps your head in place as his hips fuck up into you. With your hand gone and occupied, he thrusts deeper into your mouth. You gag around him, and he releases you just enough to catch your breath, before pumping past your lips again.
He groans at every stroke, burying your nose in the faint hair scattering up his belly. Pleasure blooms on his face. He’s so pretty, so vulnerable and fucked out, face wrinkling and lips panting.
His head falls down to look at you again. He makes a whine from the back of his throat. “Fuck, you’ve got spit everywhere.” It’s true, chin wet as slurping sounds resonate on the steamy windows.
If your ex-boyfriend had even tried to lose a hand in your hair and push your head down, you’d have bit him with a vengeance. But kneeling like this with Matty using you only brings a sick pleasure out of you. You feel your core throb, thighs sticky with need. You don’t know what he’s doing to you, don’t understand how he manages to ruin you so thoroughly.
Your nails dig into his knee, the other hand pinching the joint. Your eyes water at every thrust until tears roll down your eyes, mixing with the wet of your cheeks and chin.
Matty awes, sickly amused as he sings, “Are you crying?” You feel suddenly embarrassed, attempting to shake your head, deny the proofs streaming down your cheeks. “Is Daddy’s dick too big for you?” The nickname strikes through the daze, shock and arousal coursing through your veins.
Matty doesn’t even realize what he’s said, too gone to mind any words. A string of curses comes next as he bobs your head. Still, it’s all you can think about, playing back the word in that filthy head of yours.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” he promises. “Just a little bit more.” His hand strokes your cheek, wiping at the runaway tears. “Gonna make me come so hard. D’you want my cum?” You nod vaguely. He grins at that. “Yeah? Wanna fucking swallow it?” You hum around him, excited. He moans, “Fuck. You’re such a slut.”
Again, there should be outrage, should be a dramatic tear off his dick as you tell him off, but he says it in such a reverent way, like a compliment, a praise, and you find yourself whining around him instead. Your cunt throbs, empty and lonely, and maybe you are a slut after all. You’ve been nothing but a needy, begging mess for him anyway. If it gives you this much pleasure in exchange, is there really something wrong with it?
Matty senses the way you preen under the name. He smirks, fucking up faster, chasing an end. “My little slut. So perfect, made for me. Would spend her days on her knees, wouldn’t she? Till she’s all bruised and fucked out.” His thrusts grow erratic. “I’d take care of you, princess. I’d put you in the best bed and I’d pump you full of my cum until you’re dripping with it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Like being my little fucktoy?” A yes comes out garbled out of your mouth. “All those smarts, gone for a dirty man like me. Fucking ironic, isn’t it?”
You hollow your cheeks, run your tongue, hope to finish him. Hear his pretty cries, see his scrunched, coming face, taste his cum. Let it be your turn.
You take back charge as Matty gets too hazy to make sense of anything, much less the furious tempo he’s set. You bob up and down with abandon, slobbering everywhere. His hips stutter, meeting you halfway. His cock twitches in your mouth.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Matty cries. His fingers dig into your hair, pulling vengefully. “Shit, princess, I’m—” With a scream, he comes on your tongue.
His body shivers as the tangy taste of white ropes spill down your throat. You swallow everything, watching his face as it grows peaceful. A slack, happy smile shines on his lips. He strokes your hair, as if an apology.
Only when he softens do you pull out of him, saliva stringing from his tip to your lip. You lick it off, chuckling. Show off your empty mouth. His cum is all gone.
“Good girl,” Matty praises, out of breath. He tucks his cock back in his jeans. “What do we say now?”
“Thank you.”
He hums. “I think you deserve a reward for doing so well for me.” You grin at him, childishly excited. He laughs, taking both your hands and raising you off your knees. “You want that, don’t you?” You bite your lip.
As soon as you’re up, he digs under your skirt, pulling off your underwear. You gasp as the air hits your bare skin. He rubs a thumb on the wet patch of the pink fabric, arching an eyebrow for you. “So fucking ready for me just from sucking my cock.”
“Not just from sucking your cock,” you say. “I’ve been ready for you all week.”
“Is that so?” Matty flips you around, sitting you square on his lap, your back against his chest. This close, you can smell the sweat and weed on him. Each leg hangs from the sides of his knees. He parts them, spreading you wide, putting you on display.
There’s the knowledge that anyone could see you tugging at the back of your mind. No matter the smoke, and the fogged up windows, and the dark of the night, it’s still a public alleyway. They could walk in on you, cunt out, wet and throbbing. It’s nasty, and it’s hot, and now you’re grinding against nothing, hoping for friction.
Thankfully, Matty indulges you, wrapping his arm around your waist and teasing two fingers over your swollen clit. You jump, already oversensitive, moaning at the little contact. He rubs in slow circles.
“I could have had you any time, then?” He whispers in your ear. “Could have pulled you in the dry storage and had my dirty way with you?”
“Yes.”
His touch becomes faster, pressing harder, zeroing in on your bud with a middle finger. You scrunch your face, already so close. A little pout comes on your face. You don’t want to finish without his fingers inside of you, not when you’ve been this eager for them. Your pussy clenches around nothing, unsatisfied.
“Any day, any time, anywhere?” His hand ghosts at your entrance, gathering a pool of your dripping juices.
“Yes,” you repeat, almost frustrated he doesn’t get it. You need him all the time. He seems satisfied by your answer, dipping two fingers inside your cunt.
You gasp, wrinkling your face with the overwhelming euphoria that spreads through you. The stretch is delicious. You’re already rolling your hips into his fingers, begging for more.
He bites at your earlobe, licking down your neck. Husky and gravely, he teases, “You would scream my name so the whole restaurant knows whose cock is fucking you this good? So they know that little princess likes to get railed filthy by an old, sleazy man?” As though to demonstrate, he pumps his fingers quicker into you. Sopping sounds resonate with your answering whines.
It’s a silly question. As if you haven’t had that exact fantasy before, playing over and over as guests criticize your every move. You insist, “Yes, Daddy.”
Matty’s fingers freeze inside of you. His heart races, the rhythm drumming on your back. Your eyes snap open, scared you’ve done something wrong. He’s the one who— A flush spreads up your cheeks. You’re so disgusting, using that nickname while he—
“Say it again.” He’s choked and out of breath. Turned on. You smirk, victorious.
You grip his wrist and make him pump inside of you again. You let your head fall on his shoulder, moaning, “Daddy, please, make me come.”
“Fuck.” It’s all the incentive he needs, apparently, because now he’s thrusting and curling inside of you, finding that magical spot each time. The heel of his hand rubs at your clit, making jolts of pleasure spark through you. His other hand snakes around your chest and paws at your breast, digging under your shirt to rub the nipple.
Every sensation works perfectly together to get you buzzing with ecstasy. You feel drunk— or high— mind swirling inside your head until all you know is his name. Your core tightens, toes curling and uncurling.
“Come on my fingers,” he demands, voice low and hoarse. “Fucking drench Daddy’s hand. I wanna taste you.”
There’s something so desperate in his voice that makes you even needier. You throb around his digits, eyebrows furrowing, strings thinning. He pinches your nipple. You open your mouth with a silent cry, shaking all over.
“That’s it,” he coos. “I got you, baby. You’re right there.” You nod frantically. “Just come for me. Come. Come—” Just like he demands, your body breaks and you shatter on his fingers.
Euphoria spreads through you, that overwhelming sense of relief. His name burns your tongue, over and over, a plea and a reverence and a worship. He continues to slide in and out of you, slowly, tenderly, until you’re done shaking and throbbing.
Your body hums pleasantly, bone-deep happy. You practically melt on his body, each limb letting go and settling into him. You sigh, satisfied. Finally haunts your head. Yet, you’re already looking out for next time.
Matty pulls out of you. He brings his wet fingers to his mouth; you hear the pornographic moan he makes as he cleans them. You flush, too tired to make a chastising comment.
“Best meal in town,” he says, cheeky. You half-slap him, half-giggle.
His hand falls from your breasts, but wraps around your waist instead, pulling you even closer, trapping you in the heat of his arms. He kisses your cheek. “We can stay like this for a little while. I’ll drive you home after.”
You crack an eye open. “Are you high?”
He scoffs. “No.” He grins against your cheek, teasing, “You’ve sobered me up.”
Being cute does not distract you. You hum, unconvinced. “What’s the alphabet backwards?”
“Are you fucking kidding—” He blows air from his nose. Resigned, he recites, “Z, Y, X—”
—
It’s fifteen past ten and the house is empty. Groceries linger on the kitchen island and you could, theoretically, put them all together yourself. Though it’s just not quite the same when you have to do the work under the orange light of the kitchen hood, alone except for some sad blues and a bottle of white and the sizzling sound of the pan.
In your hand, an apologetic text flashes at you. You bite on a humus dipped carrot, bitter. You understand, you say, and pretend you believe him when he swears he’ll make it up to you. You take a long sip of your wine glass.
You stare at the lonely apartment. An idea tickles the back of your mind. It would be a waste of wine, and space, and freedom if you dutifully went to bed now. Your hand lingers on his contact, then press on the picture of Matty’s frown, cigarette hanging between his lips.
I have my place all to myself. Do you wanna come? You hit send before you overthink it. A rush of anxiety swipes through you.
He’s quick to answer. depends. do i get to cum anywhere? You roll your eyes. He’s truly insufferable sometimes.
Invitation retracted.
i’m on my way
You can’t control the pleased grin on your face, but there’s no one to see it anyway. You can indulge a little in the childish thrill that blooms inside your stomach. You feel sunshine from the inside-out.
He’s ringing your doorbell the next time you hear of him. By then you’re already a little flushed with wine, practically running to the door to buzz him in.
A knock resonates just a few minutes later. You swing the door wide open. “Hi.” Again, you can’t seem to control your giddy smile.
“You shouldn’t open the door just like that. I could’ve been a bad man.”
“You are.” Matty snorts. You move out of the doorframe, gesturing for him to step inside.
He walks your flat with confidence, though he hasn't been here since that fatal night and, even then, it had been a quick in and out thing. He lingers a little to take in the set-up. The open floor plan, the L leather couch, the massive dining table and the kitchen island that hasn’t seen any action in months. It’s a shame for a family of chefs how little you use it.
It’s the first time you’ve seen him outside of a work setting, either a grueling shift or the drunk aftermath. He’s cleaner; white shirt rid of stains, jeans unburdened by an apron. He still sports a stumble, ever lazy to shave it off, but his hair sprouts in soft curls from his head. There’s a lack of gloomy energy, like what you thought was a permanent tired look was, in fact, reserved for the restaurant. He looks good is what you mean.
Matty stares you up and down shamelessly, taking in your off-duty outfit as well. A collared shirt buttoned conservatively, tucked into a black skirt, leather heeled loafers and white socks at your feet. Your hands shine with silver rings. You are, admittedly, much cleaner than him. Matty seems to dig your preppy look anyway, licking a gaze up and down your legs, rubbing his smirk away with two of his fingers.
You side-step him, making your way to the kitchen. Matty follows behind you, taking the time to gaze at the paintings dotting your walls. Pretentious things your father bought because he was told by other people they were masterpieces, they were technical, they were touching. You get to the cabinets, searching for a matching wine glass.
“Why’d you invite me?” Matty asks, seemingly an afterthought. He peers at your half-empty glass, raising it to examine the wine.
“I was supposed to have dinner with my dad, but he’s too busy today after all.” You turn to Matty with a glass in hand. “There’s some sort of important event with investors that just came up. He couldn’t untangle himself,” you press. You don’t know why you feel the need to rehash your father’s excuses, as though you had to defend him to Matty. It’s silly; he doesn’t even care, instead bringing your wine glass to his nose and giving it a swirl.
“It’s a Chenin Blanc.” You say as you uncork the bottle, pouring him his own glass. You slide it his way, tsking regretfully, “It was gonna pair beautifully with the seared scallops.” There’s a tinge of bitterness in your voice, and you try your best to smooth it. You can’t sound annoyed.
“Served with what?”
“Baby spinach and spiced pomegranate glaze.”
“Damn,” Matty shakes his head. “That does sound good.” He takes a seat at the dining table, shamelessly making himself at home. He cocks his head, bringing the glass to his lips. “So, what? You invited me to cook it for you instead?”
Your lips twitch. “I’ve already eaten actually.” A mismatch of carrots, humus, swiss cheese and chocolate-covered blueberries eaten standing up at the kitchen island, but a meal nonetheless.
Matty hums. He leans back on his chair, smirking to himself. “You know, I feel a bit peckish myself.”
Your arch an eyebrow, playful as you drawl, “Is that so?” The cheeky, knowing look on his face wakes the heat in your belly. You clench your thigh; he spots it, amused. “There’s food in the fridge.”
“A miracle! She has more than kraft dinner.”
“I didn’t specify which food. Maybe mac’n’cheese is all that’s waiting for you.”
Matty smiles. “I think I’m craving something else.” His hand reaches out, grabbing yours until you stumble into him.
You grip his shoulders to balance yourself, both legs siding one of his knees. He looks at you with those dark, dangerous eyes that announce nothing but trouble. You tower over him, see him blinking his spiderleg eyelashes up at you. His lips part, pretty and red. A rush of excitement shoots through you. Your breath hitches.
“Wow,” you say, mocking. “You just got here and you’re already trying to bend me over the table. Didn’t even ask me about my day.”
“Oh, sorry,” he says, faux-apologetic. His hands dig into your thighs, picking you up and hoisting you on the table. You sit before him, blush as he spreads your legs out for him. With a cheeky, shit-eating grin, he looks up at you and says, “How was your day, princess?”
You up your nose, ignoring his bait. “It was good. I—” His hands rise up your thighs, brushing against your silky smooth skin. You can’t stop the shivers. “Fuck, I went to the library and—”
He bends down, peppering sweet kisses where his fingertips had been. Your breath hitches at the ghosting touch, teasing and tickling and lighting you up. He looks up at you, face nearing where you need him most. “Mmh, and what?”
“Just— shit.” He spreads your legs further apart, giving him ample access to bite and suck at your thigh, which he does with worshiping abandon. He soothes away the hurt with a tongue. You pant, moaning lowly, “I started early on my first week readings for—”
Matty snorts. “Nerd.”
“It’s actually really essential to—” He slips your underwear aside, finding your clit and thumbing a lazy circle on it. “Ah, fucking hell, Matty!”
He smiles, so fucking proud. His finger speeds up. “What book did you read?”
“Well, the textbook. It was— It’s about—” Words escape your mouth when his tongue is burning your skin, getting closer and closer to where his thumb is hard at work. Euphoria shakes in your stomach. You bite your lip, gripping the edge of the table.
“Yes?” He blinks up at you, condescendingly begging, “Please, educate a poor, simple plebeian.”
You bite your cheek, teasing, “I don’t know if I can. He’s really only good at fucking.”
Matty rolls his eyes. “You’re missing the other reason I’m good with my hands.”
And he makes it easy to forget all about his cooking skills when he dips two fingers inside your wet entrance, pumping you slowly on the dinner table. God-given hands, made to bring you to the very edge and back. You curse, gripping the wood under your palms even harder.
“I’m waiting.”
You huff. “It’s microeconomics. It’s comparing comparative averages and absolute advantages of high.”
He grins. “Well, which one wins?”
“Comparative. It’s always better as you lose because the opportunity cost is smaller and— Oh, fuck—” Your legs tremble, your face scrunching as he hits the sinful spot inside of you that has you singing. You pant to catch your breath, groaning, “It’s better when you— Matty—”
“My smart girl,” Matty praises, curling his fingers inside of you just so. “You learned all of this already. Don’t even need to study that you’re fucking moaning it for me.” He plants a kiss on the top of your thigh. “It’s better when…”
Your mind is languid, euphoria pumping inside of you with the rhythm of his hand. You try to blink to conscience, peering down at him. “It’s better when the opportunity cost—” He makes rapid swipes at your clit and pleasure jolts through you. You shake your head. “You know what? You don’t need to know all this. You can just be dumb and pretty and warm my bed all day. Be my trophy husband.”
He snickers. “Yeah? Gonna make me your little housewife?”
You grin, volleying back, “Keep you cooking and fucking all day while I earn the big bucks, babe.” One hand rises up to his hair, digging into the mess of it. You smirk. “But you’d have to be very good for me. Keep me satisfied at all times.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” His fingers quicken, thrusting in and out of you until you’re whining for him. “I’d fill you up every night and leave you sticky and happy.” The wet sounds of your cunt fill the kitchen. You don’t doubt him for one second.
Your breath leaves in puffs out of your mouth. You tilt your head back, moaning for the ceiling, eyes wrinkled shut. Your hand tugs at his hair, rejoicing in his pathetic little groans. You fall back, smiling mischievously at him. “I thought you were hungry.”
His eyes flash. “Fucking famished.” He bends down and licks your cunt.
You jump, rolling your hips into his face, chasing those delicious reverbs. He licks at your clit with a pointed tongue, pressing into the sensitive bundle of nerves until honey ecstasy is spreading through your veins.
One hand fucks into you with calculated efficiency; hard and fast, just like you like it. The other holds your red underwear aside, fingers pressing into the meat of your thigh, leaving fingertip prints to remember him by.
“Matty!” Pleasure boils inside of you. You’ve missed his tongue, missed the way he tastes at you: starved, diligent, fucking slurping the last drop. You cry his name over and over, a sweet chant that encourages him on.
Thank fuck for his hands. They slide wetly inside of you, searching for hot ecstasy and pulling it out of you in drowning moans. You tug at his hair, grip the table, try to attach yourself to something as you;
“Matty, I’m—” He knows, of course, because you’re throbbing around his fingers. He circles your clit with his tongue, swiping at it, adding enough sinful pleasure that you feel your orgasm grow and grow. It expands in your belly, threatens your limbs; “I’m gonna—”
You come with a scream, falling apart on his tongue. He doesn’t slow yet. His mouth is hard at work, his fingers pumping into you still. He chases your orgasm until the end, until you’re shaking and whimpering from the intensity. You push his head, and only then does he release you, smiling up at you with sticky cheeks.
“Good?”
You brush his curls back, smiling happily. “You might earn yourself a weekly allocation if you keep it up, babe.”
“I’m the luckiest trophy husband in the world.”
You twist one of his curls around his finger, so light and elated that you feel no shyness or shame to say, “D’you want to see my room?”
He half-grins. “Yeah.”
You jump from the table, grabbing his hand. He lingers by the table just long enough to shoot back half of his wine glass in one gulp, slamming it down on the table with a satisfied sigh. It stands there with a stain of your slick in the shape of his lips.
You deadpan him. “Good wine shouldn’t be wasted,” he defends.
“I don’t even think you let it stay on your tongue long enough to taste it.”
You regret your choice of words as soon as you say them. Cursing, you already expect the joke when he quips, “Didn’t want to disrupt the other taste that’s in my mouth right now, you see?”
You roll your eyes. “It’s down the hallway,” you say, and tug at his hand until he follows.
You push the door into your childhood bedroom. It’s a clean, organized place, but it maintains its youthful element, like a time capsule. Matty steps in, intrigued. It’s the first time he’s ever been and he paces it with curiosity.
The shelves are decorated with childhood trophies; debate, math, punctuality. Even a participation medal from fifth grade soccer hangs on the corner. Thick, leather books mix with colorful cracked spines of YA literature on the bookshelf, along with fake plants and gaudy trinkets. The walls host picture frames of dental braced friends smiling wide. You have awful bangs in some of them and you stick your tongue out at the flash. On the bed, Mr Snuffles — a leopard plushie — lays like a king.
You flush. You hadn’t realized how childish your bedroom at home still was. You’ve got an uncomfortable need to tear it all down and build it back as a refined, clean look..
“Cute,” he says, and you want to bury straight into the ground. He taps a picture of prom where you hold the arm of a visibly nervous teenage boy. “Was that your little boyfriend who couldn’t make you come?”
“No, that was my friend. I wasn’t interested in dating back then. I was a very serious girl.”
He chuckles, turning back to you. He jokes, “Hard to believe now.” You shake your head, pretending to be bothered. He eyes the photograph once more. “You look pretty.”
“Thanks.” It comes squeaked out of your lips. You really didn’t expect the compliment.
He continues to inspect until you grow tired of it. You huff, deciding to go on the offensive until he takes a hint. “You know, I’ve actually never had any guy here before.”
Matty flips to you, grinning. “No?”
“No.” Your fingers fly to your collar and slowly start unbuttoning the top one, a silent invitation.
“Very, very serious girl.” Matty watches your fingers, devouring the skin you unveil for him. The cups of your red bra peek in view. His eyes grow dark, though he still doesn’t move to do it himself.
“I was very studious.”
You get to your very last button. The shirt parts, a cracked door vision into your needy body. Matty drawls, slow and nonchalant, unrushed, “Must’ve spent a lot of time with your hand between your legs, then, if no one’s been here before.”
You try not to grow embarrassed. You have spent a lot of time doing so, mostly in recent weeks. You push the shirt past your shoulders and it drops at your feet. Matty’s eyes immediately fall to your breasts, rising with panting breaths for him.
“Maybe,” you whisper shyly. You bend down to slip off your shoes, sliding your socks off your feet.
“Thought about me a lot during it?” He asks, cocky.
You straighten up again. You dig in your cheek, feeling both of them heat. “Maybe.” You find the zipper at your side and draw it down slowly, teasingly. Your skirt falls limply around your hips and you shimmy it down your legs.
It seems you’ve found yourself half-naked to a very much dressed Matty again. His gaze devours every inch of your skin, licking up your legs, biting your hips, teasing your navel. You grow wet between your thighs just from the promise in his eyes.
Your hand reaches behind yourself to your bra, but Matty tuts. “That’s mine,” he says, and there’s an air of danger in his voice. Your arms fall back to your sides, burned. You stand a bit straighter for him, aching deep inside yourself.
Matty takes long, slow steps towards you, letting the need boil and bubble inside of you. He stands before you, looking down into your eyes. Your lips part, your heart screams his name. He grazes two fingers along your waist, snaking to your back, and kisses you.
You respond with an eager tongue, opening your lips up to him and kissing him back. He still tastes like you, like your slick that dried on his cheeks. You shiver at the thought.
His hands find the small of your back, heavy and pressing into you, so fucking present you feel your mind twists on itself. You travel yours up his arms, finding his shoulders and sneaking into the hair at his nape.
He tilts his head to change the angle and your legs clench. He draws out all your wanton needs with his skilled tongue, makes you putty and malleable. You’re ready for him, for anything.
His fingers dance on your spine, climbing up each vertebrae until they catch on your bra band. Your breath hitches. He unhooks it. Matty stops kissing you to pull the bra off your arms.
Your breasts lay in view, pebbled and peaked. He takes a good look at them, then bends down to catch a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck, Matty!” Your hands twist at his curls, tugging and patting as he sucks and nips your tits.
He leaves bites on the underside, your sternum, kissing and licking down your stomach until he knees before you. You moan, still unused to the sight of him. Each hand hooks to a side of your underwear and he pulls it down and off your legs. You keep a stabilizing grip on his hair as you step out of it.
Matty comes back up to you, breathing harshly. He kisses your lips one last time, then draws you on the bed. You’re laying on the purple sheets for him, naked and wet and flushed. Every body part is aware of him and looks it.
Still, Matty takes a step back. “Show me what you do when you think of me.” You stare at him in shock. You’re naked for him, laying on your bed in godly offerance like a fucking daydream, and he wants you to finger yourself?
Matty laughs. “Come on, princess,” he teases. “Show Daddy.” The nickname jolts you. Tiny, electrical shivers run down your spine and you bite your lip, brushing a hand down your stomach.
You waste no time, too drunk on pleasure and want to bother teasing yourself. You part your legs and rub two fingers on your swollen clit, jumping at the sudden feeling. You bite your lip, cracking your eyes open to find Matty’s
His eyes watch you with obsession. You make a low whimper for him, circling your bundle of nerves, arching your back. A tantalizing show, hopefully enough to get him to touch you. You want him so deeply you’re shivering for him, hot and dripping all over.
You’re efficient and quick; you know all the spots of yourself and press them just so. Pleasure is not something you draw out, pumping and rubbing until you develop carpal tunnel. You’re in and out, wiping your fingers clean on your thigh.
It’s why you’re already dipping your digits inside yourself. You cry at the stretch, though never as delicious and fulfilling as his. Still, ecstasy runs through your body.
“Matty,” you moan, and once again hope the breathy, needy shape of his name in your mouth is enough to get him to replace your hardworking fingers.
“I’m right here, baby,” he says, transfixed by your hands, your mouth, your panting tits. You see his gaze and smirk, grabbing your breast and twisting the nipple. A low whine leaves you. “Fuck. Does that feel good?”
You nod furiously. Your fingers slide quickly in and out of you. “Not as good as you, though,” you pout.
Matty grins, cocky and a dick about it. “‘Course not.”
Your eyes flutter shut. You let yourself be taken over by the euphoria swimming through you. Your mouth calls his name like it was him making you feel this way and not the three fingers fucking into you. In a way, it’s the fact that he’s here that draws this overwhelming pleasure out of you. It’s never been this intense with yourself.
“What do you think of when you’re in your head?” He whispers, sounding affected by the spectacle you give him.
You bite your lip, trembling. “You. You on your knees for me behind the bar. You bending me over the sink of the bathroom in the middle of two guests. You letting me suck your dick on the staircase of the alleyway. You fingering me at The Darling in front of Landon until I fucking come all over the booth.”
“All these nasty thoughts while you’re tucked tight in your little bed?”
You nod. “I replay that night in the kitchen over, and over, and over. I know every little detail, everything you've done to me—” Behind your eyelids, graphic images of you pressed into the ground, giggling and coming, flash to you. It’s too much; you snap. Your eyes flash open. “Fuck me, Daddy. Please.”
“You need it?”
“I need it so, so bad.” Your wrist is tired between your legs. Still, you work, feeling the intensity build to an impossible degree. “Need you. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”
“Shit,” he groans. You see the tent in his jeans and know he’s just as ready as you. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll give it to you.” A grin shines on your face. You clench around your fingers in excitement. “Just as soon as you come for me.”
You pout. A whiny cry comes out of you. “It’s not the same without you.”
“I know, baby,” he pouts, faux-broken over it as if he wasn’t the one putting you through this torture. “You’re doing so well for me. I wanna see you come now, though. Can you do that for me?”
Your stomach tightens and you know that you can, that you will. You’re still a little bitter, holding back as though in just a few seconds Matty was gonna get to his knees and finish you off yourself.
“Your clit’s feeling a little neglected, isn’t it?” You moan, pressing into your bud like he silently demanded. Your legs kick at the sensation. You arch your back, crying to the ceiling. “That’s it. You’re so close.” You rub and fuck until you can taste the ecstasy. Goddammit.
“You’re right there,” he says, and makes it true. You feel your orgasm threaten the edges of you. “Just a bit more. Come on, fuck yourself. Think of me, of my cock. That’s right, princess.” You scream, staring into his eyes. He devours each inch of you, so fucking eager. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you? Right now. Come for Daddy.” With a mewl, your climax crashes through you.
Your body slackens, pleasure swooping through you in one grandiose wave. Relief washes you, and then the slight bitterness that it was all your own doing. Barely reeling from the orgasm and you’re already needing more.
You don’t ride out the climax; Matty rips your fingers out of you and sucks them into his mouth. You sigh at the sight as he rolls his tongue around your digits. It’s sinful the way he moans, like the best fucking meal of his life.
He releases them with a pop, then kisses your palm. “So good, babe. You did amazing.” He kisses your wrist. “You’re my little princess, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” you pout. His lips trail up your arm, tickling your sensitive skin. You shiver, moaning as he brushes your shoulder and licks up your collarbone.
“How do you want me? Since you’ve been thinking about it all the fucking time.” He kisses your neck. You moan, fluttering your eyelashes.
“I wanna ride you,” you breathe out.
Matty smirks against your skin. “Yeah? Gonna get yourself off on Daddy’s dick?”
You grin, nodding eagerly. “Gonna make you feel so good, too.”
He smiles. “Alright then, baby.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You sit on his lap like a throne. “Make me feel good.”
You shake your head, pulling his shirt up his chest. “Get naked first. I wanna see you.”
“She’s demanding.”
“It’s my fantasy.” Matty chuckles. Still, he tugs his shirt off his shoulders, throwing it beyond your bed.
You had been so drunk on his cock the first time it happened, you hadn’t been able to really get a good look at him. This time, your eyes lap up every inch of his skin, especially the tattooed ones. You draw the outlines of them with the tip of your fingers. He shivers at the feeling as you dance on his hip, his happy trail, his chest. You press a hand there, holding yourself up.
“Pants,” you order. You have a finely tuned demanding voice; you’ve led many school projects with an iron fist and an unarguable tone. Still, you know Matty only humors you when he obeys, kicking off his shoes, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them off.
His cock slaps his stomach. It’s hard and leaking, and your mouth waters at the sight. You feel your sticky thighs beg for him. Cunt fluttering, you take him in your fist, jerking him slowly. Matty moans as his head falls back on the pillows. Oh, you will like that. Already, the power rushes to your head, loosening it drunkenly.
You hoist yourself on your knees, then hesitate. Quickly, you grab your leopard plushie and turn him around until he faces the other way.
Matty stares at you in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”
“Mr. Snuffles doesn’t need to see that!” You cry out, defensive.
“I can’t believe I’m about to shag in a bed with a stuffed toy right there.”
You raise your eyebrows, cocky. “Don’t get it wrong. I’m shagging you.”
Matty’s hands travel up to your hips, spreading over the bones possessively. He smiles up at you. “Do it, then. Fuck me.” You smile, taking his cock and leading it to your dripping cunt.
You line it up, then slowly slide down on his length. Loud, relieved moans leave your and Matty’s mouth. A shared song drumming up both your spines in harmony. You bottom out and think fucking finally.
“Oh, God,” you breathe, eyes rolling back. You take a second there, immobile, reveling in the heavenly moment. The way he fills you up so perfectly, stretches you in the most delicious ways. Your cunt throbs around him, eager.
He makes a low curse, digging his nails into your hips. You sense his becoming restless, the insistent way he presses into your skin, as though physically stopping himself from holding you in place and fucking up into him. Indulgently, you begin moving.
You haven’t been on top very often. You always used to find yourself sore and tired and bored after a few minutes, begging to either roll onto your back or end it right there. This time, however, there’s a practically all-consuming need to succeed. You want to fuck him, to permanently engrave his brain with the memory of you.
You come at it like schoolwork; focused, diligent, persistent. You attempt experimental thrusts at first, getting yourself used to how deep he hits you. It’s slow, tentative things; you try different angles, sliding in and out, frowning as you analyze the different ways pleasure blooms under your skin.
Under you, Matty groans, puffing out breaths. “I can hear you thinking. Stop it.”
You arch an eyebrow. “It was ‘what a smart girl’ thirty minutes ago, but now it’s ‘turn off your brain’?”
“Exactly. Want you to be fucked stupid now.”
You snort. “That’s not gonna happen.”
He hums, smirking. “Don’t give me a challenge.” You roll your eyes.
You settled on a rocking rhythm, something that hits all the perfect places inside of you. Your hair sticks to your nape, effort trembling your thighs already. You moan, roll your head back. “Like that?” You breathe out. Euphoria begins to prickle at your skin and your smile slackens your mouth.
“Yeah, baby,” Matty nods. “Just—” His hold on your hips is strangling. His hands clench, begging you to give something mindnumbing. “Go faster.”
You ignore his request, continuing that slow, teasing pace. You love feeling every inch of his cock as you buck on it, love to hear him grow desperate for you for a change. Every pathetic, quiet groan he makes resonates straight to your core. Head still rolled back to the ceiling, you rock stubbornly, smiling to yourself.
A particularly artful stroke has your nails digging into his chest. He shivers under you. “Fuck, faster,” Matty pants.
You smirk down at him, cheeky. “What’s the magic word, princess?”
Matty rolls his eyes. “Don’t get bratty,” he says, then gives your ass a warning spank. You jump at the sting, bucking on his cock. Low heat simmers through you. You bite your lip, quickening your thrusts dutifully. Matty smirks at you, all-knowing.
You speed up, falling back on his length again and again until the slapping sounds of your skins fill the room. You sense the resonating ecstasy pull at your stomach. You’re aware, unfortunately, that he’s right. It’s better, stronger.
“That’s right,” he says, and you want to slap that shit-eating grin off his lips. “Fucking faster.” You obey like some deep-seated instinct, bouncing above him.
A part of you wants to slow to a snail pace and teach him a lesson — get him reciting all those patience proverbs he’s so keen on — but a bigger part of you melts and drips at the ecstasy pulsing through you. Speedy, deep rolls have you shaking, moaning his name like a worship. You’re irrationally convinced you might die if you even try to slow down, like losing the pleasure he’s coaxing out of you right now would be a fatal crash.
Again, he gives you that teasing, devilish stares that tells you he’s well aware of the burning heat he causes you. His lips stretch up into a smirk, and he parts them to talk some more. You slap a hand over his mouth instead. “Shut it,” you warn. He laughs under your palm, too happy at your reaction.
His tongue sticks out, licking your hand childishly, and you release him. “You only like my mouth for one thing,” he says, pouting at you.
“Don’t give me ideas.”
“Want to sit on it again, huh?” He teases, cocking his head. “Maybe when you’re done fucking me.” He licks his teeth. “Though I doubt you’ll have the energy to sit up then. I’ll have to lay you down and clean you all up. Would you like that, baby?”
“Anything that doesn’t involve you talking.”
Matty hums, and you sense the danger in his tone. You’ve pushed him just a bit too far, and the low thrum of thrill resonates in your stomach. You hold your breath, sick apprehension bringing you sinful pleasure.
“You’ve got a mouth on you today,” he says. “Should’ve filled it up before I gave you what you wanted. Wouldn’t have so much to say if you were drooling and crying for my cock.” You wonder if that’s exactly what he’ll do; pull you off by your hips and onto your knees for a lesson.
Instead, his hand pinches your nipple, then snakes up your chest, your collarbone, spreading over your throat. You clench around him, lust flashing in your eyes, and he smiles at you. “My little slut,” he coos. “You’d let me do anything.”
You rock on him furiously, humping his lap to get rid of that building pressure in your core. Your mouth hangs open, pathetic whimpers spilling out every time your clit rubs on his pelvis. “Yes, Daddy,” you say in that sweet tone he knows is nothing but trouble.
“Touch your clit,” he orders, and you’ve got a hand flying between your thighs, swiping on the bundle of nerves with abandon. You mewl in his lap, fucking and rubbing until you’re dripping on him. When you’re halfway through a moan, pussy clenching around his cock, Matty presses into your neck.
The moan dies in your throat, mouth hanging open as a rush of adrenaline spreads through you. Your head swarms with silence, a sort of calmness buzzing and tingling under your face, and you feel every thrust of his cock he pumps up into you like a true hit of ecstasy. You whine, suspended in the moment.
“My pretty girl,” he whispers. You roll your eyes. “My girl.”
His fingers release your throat and the sudden breath of air buzzes through you. The world sharpens; you sense his cock, his skin under your palms, his hand still around your neck— like he owns you. Your cunt tightens at the idea, something pretty stringing up your spine. Pleasure intensifies, practically breathing with you, until your brain rushes with endorphins.
“There she is. So good for me now,” he says and your lips stretch up with a proud grin. You’re lazy on your bones, letting him rock you on his cock without a care. “You wouldn’t do this for anyone, would you?”
You shake your head fervently. “Only you.”
“That’s right,” he nods. “Only me.” He sneaks a thumb to your clit, pushing away your slack hand and working at it himself. “No fucking guy can make you feel like this.”
“I know,” you whine, and there’s the faint heartbreak of it tugging at the back of your mind. Nothing tangible, just the knowledge of what you’ll spend the rest of your life mourning and missing once he’s gone. Once you’re gone.
He lets go of your neck, dropping it to your waist, and you whine at the loss. It quickly turns into a moan as he uses both hands to guide you on his length properly. A quick, hard tempo sets, shaking your legs with growing pleasure. You feel him in the deepest part of you, hitting again and again that sweet spot as he puppeteers your freely given hips.
“God, Matty.”
He smirks. “That was redundant.” You roll your eyes, half from pleasure and half from annoyance. He chuckles at that, happily giving a deep stroke that has you purring for him, as though to prove his point.
You hold your weight up with a hand beside his head, drooping into the mattress. You tilt your hips, angling yourself perfectly for his drilling cock. Your face breaks open with a moan, but you shake your head. You force your eyes open to take in his face; sweaty and flushed and overwhelmed with pleasure and work. You lick your lips. Pleasure swirls in your belly, tightening and tightening until you have to believe you’ve driven yourself mad.
“Daddy,” you whine for him. Your free hand flies back to your thighs, rubbing at your clit until your lungs catch on fire. “Make me come,” you plea. “I need you. I need—” You press into your bud, groaning at the rush of ecstasy.
Matty laughs and the mean sound only drives you further into lust. You grip the sheets, trying to catch on fire. “Thought you were gonna shag me,” he mocks. “Thought you were gonna get off all on your own.” He tsks, bucking into you wildly, sounding out of breath as he adds, “But you need Daddy to make you come, don’t you?”
You shake your head, as if the evidence wasn’t dripping all over his cock, spilling from your lips in incoherent slurs. “No?” He says, again just as merciless in his taunting. He halts inside of you and you cry, shaking your head. “Do it, then,” he laughs.
He raises his hands up your waist, dancing on the ribs. He gropes your tits, circling the nipples. It becomes apparent to you that he’s not joking. You pout, finding your balance again and rising to your knees, falling back with thunderous force. Your legs shake; you’re exhausted and sore, whiny as you obey him.
“That’s it, princess,” he praises. It’s enough to spark some motivation. You furrow your eyebrows, bouncing on his cock, puffing breaths falling from your lips. Sweat pearls on your forehead, but you continue, undeterred. “God, you’re so fucking filthy.”
You mewl, redoubling efforts. You find something close to those quick, harsh thrusts Matty was giving, just slightly poorer. You fuck mindlessly, not bothering to rub your clit on his pelvis or find that delicious spot inside of you. Pleasure fills your mind anyway.
“Doing so well,” he moans. His fingers play with your nipples; your head pulls back, crying out. “Use my cock. Ride it ‘till you come all over it.” You whine, nodding fervently. “Need to feel you again,” he pants. “Need to feel that cunt as it fucking squeezes me.”
Ecstasy swarms through you. You moan, digging your claws into your sheets. You squeeze around him, over and over, a clear-tell warning. His name and a string of curses come out of your lips broken. He pinches your nipple.
“I’m gonna—”
“Ask,” he groans, a choking sound that rips out of him.
“Can I—” Your body trembles, the taste of climax spreading under your skin. You scrunch your face. “Daddy, please, can I—” You finish it with a moan, losing your train of thought.
“Use your big girl words,” he taunts, climbing one hand up. Your breath catches as he nears your neck; a swirling hit of excitement so true it makes you lightheaded. Still, he doesn’t linger, instead cupping your jaw and sticking his thumb in your mouth.
Your hips are artless and loose, sliding and rolling and thrusting without any reason. It’s wild, brutal strokes that have you drooling around his finger.
“C’mon, princess. I wanna hear you.”
He doesn’t slip his thumb out. You speak around his digit, drooling and slurring, incoherent. “Pleashe, pleashe, pleashe, Daddy, let me come. I want to come. I’ve been so good, I’ve— fuck, I’ve needed it for so long. Just—” You cry, shaking your head. “You’re so fucking deep in me.”
You take his hand away from your jaw, feeling spit drip down your chin as you spread it over your belly instead. “Fucking love you inside of me. Where you belong,” you moan.
“Fuck, yeah.” He pushes on your stomach, making you feel his cock sliding into you. Your mind rolls inside your skull, drunk. “Made for this cunt.”
“Made to make me come.” He nods again eagerly. Your hips stutter, exhausted. “Please, then,” you say, hopeful. “Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplea—”
“Come for me, princess.”
“Ah—” You convulse, dropping on his chest, a scream drowning in his shoulder as your climax hits you in one drowning wave. Ecstasy sparks under your skill, overwhelming.
Matty holds you in place with one soothing hand on your spine. Ruthlessly, he continues to fuck up into you, riding the end of your mindnumbing orgasm. “Fuck, I got you. Ride it out, princess. Ride it out on my cock. That’s it— Shit, I can fucking feel you.”
Your fingertips buzz pleasantly, and there’s the distant shape of his words in your ear. You grin, loose and happy, heart filling up with his name. “D’you feel good?” He asks, kissing your cheek. You nod, humming. “Yeah? Came so hard for me?”
“Yeah.” You moan, his cock still thrusting inside of you slowly, waking you up again. Your legs shake. You tilt your hips slowly, ever so slightly rolling them. Matty grins against your cheek, kissing it again and again.
He caresses your back, soothing away all those leftover shivers. “So fucking pretty when you come,” he promises. “The best girl. My best girl.” He grips your back, choking out, “Can you turn around for me?”
You whine, tired, but still straighten up on his lap. You hoist up with great efforts, turning around with shaky knees. He coos some congratulations, hooking an arm around your belly and laying you back up on his chest. You practically melt on it, back against his stomach, head tucked in the crook of his neck. Each thigh hangs from his knees and he spreads you wide open for him again.
“Don’t have to do anything, baby,” he breathes out, snaking a hand down your body to grab his still hard cock. “Let Daddy take care of you.” You groan, nodding in agreement. He likes himself up with your dripping entrance, then slides into you.
He allows you a single slow thrust to get used to the stretch again, then wastes no time mercilessly ramming inside of you. You grip the arm around your waist, digging your nails into his tattoos, barely holding on from the brutal pace between your thighs. You mumble a strange mix of his name and the word Daddy, blurring out of you with all those pathetic sounds you shamelessly let out.
You can tell he’s close too, chasing his pleasure with abandon, practically using you to get off. The knowledge makes burning heat spread through your lower belly. You throb around him, wanting him to come, to fill you up. Wanting him to feel as good as he makes you.
Matty smirks against your cheek. “Oh, are you gonna come again?” His hips snap quickly, taunting. You stutter a response, biting down a scream. “What’s that? Can’t hear you when you mumble.”
“Shit,” is all you manage to say, already feeling pleasure grow inside of you again. He’s delighted to find this, grabbing a pebbled breast and playing with it. “I— Fucking, I’m—”
He hums, licking your neck. “Does Daddy’s cock make you forget how to speak?” You tremble in his arms, hot shame filling up your mind, a strange, sinful heat that has you yelling out absurdities. Matty’s relentless between your thighs, knowing exactly how to prove his point.
His knees fall further on the bed, spreading your thighs wide open for him. He snakes a hand to your clit, rubbing at it with his palm. You jump in his arms, shaking your head. “Can’t—” It’s too much, too soon. You feel the edges of you unspool, unwind.
“Can’t what?” He teases, merciless. “Can’t think? It’s okay, baby. Just lay there and take it. I’ll do the rest.”
You practically buzz, incapable of taking in the pleasure that he’s already fucking and rubbing some more out of you. You choke, giving him some empty pleas, unsure of what exactly you’re even asking for.
“My dumb little slut,” he coos, kissing your cheek. “Fucked all stupid, as she should be.”
He dips his head in your neck, nipping and licking at the skin, peppering it with sweet love. It drowns your mind, makes it sticky and happy. You claw at his arm, desperate.
Matty’s legs shake under you. You know he’s growing tired too, ready to burst anytime. The knowledge pokes at your mind, hot and eager. You grind on his palm.
“Come in me,” you beg. You’ve completely relinquished the control of your tongue. “I’m on the pill now. Please.” Matty twitches inside of you.
“Fuck,” he groans in your neck, choked. “That right? Got on the pill specifically for me?”
You did, searching up doctors and prescriptions, belly humming with the idea of him not pulling out this time. “Yes.”
His hand leaves your breast, climbing up to your neck. You throb around him, reveling in his presence around your throat, the silent mark that he owns you. “Needed me to fill you up that fucking bad? To have my cum dripping out of you.”
“Yes,” you scream, wrinkling your face.
“Gonna come for me first, though, right? Be my good little girl and come.” Though the words trigger something in you, you shake your head stubbornly. You’re almost afraid of letting go, as though the building euphoria inside of you could crush you to death, could blow your skin off your bones. It’s safer here, just on the edge of the fatal.
His cock slams into you and his hand presses into your clit, driving you wilder and wilder. You choke a scream, feeling your limbs tighten in apprehension. You’re there, just there, and still you refuse.
All the sensations are too much. You call his name, the only word you seem to know. Pressure presses against your skin, threatening to burst. You feel yourself begin to cry.
Matty shushes you soothingly. “Oh, princess,” he says, kissing away your tears. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’m right there. I’ll catch you.”
You pout, shaking your head, sobbing from pleasure. It’s a useless fight; Matty presses into the sides of your throat and suddenly the world catches on fire. You’re flying into orbit, imploding with ecstasy, screaming his name and all the curse words you know in worship.
“Did so well,” Matty screams. “Fuck. Look at you coming all over my cock. What a good girl.” He releases your neck just when you come down from your high, shooting you up in another rush of pleasure. You moan, melting on him. “Gonna fill you up, now,” he warns. His words sound desperate, stretched thin. “Gonna come so deep inside of you, you’ll feel me for days. D’you want that?”
“Yes!”
His hips stutter. He twitches inside of you. “Say it— Shit.”
“Fill me up, Daddy!”
“Ah, fucking hell—” He comes inside of you with a cry of your name, shaking under you. He groans, shaking, washed with pleasure. He continues fucking into you mindlessly, slower and slower, until he’s stopped, panting. His hold on you is murderous; it’s like he’s afraid you’ll slip away from him in his most vulnerable state.
You watch him, observe his solemn face as he lingers in ecstasy, eyes shut and smile wide. Your chest warms, a grin teasing your own lips. Sweat and tears and drool dries on your face.
Matty softens inside of you. His cock slips out, cum spilling out of you. You moan at the feeling, getting on your elbows to watch the spectacle. Still laying down and catching his breath, Matty plunges two fingers inside of you, pushing his cum back in your cunt just so you can watch it fall again. You shiver, falling back on him with a sigh.
“God,” he says. “I’m too old to fuck in twin beds.” You laugh in surprise and he snickers with you, his chest drumming against you. “You’re rich. Why don’t you have a king sized bed and feather pillows or some shit?”
“I’m sensible,” you say, sticking your tongue out. You roll to your belly beside him, finally letting him take a full breath. He stretches on your mattress, taking up almost all the space. It’s a little ridiculous, this man in your childhood bed.
You smirk, traveling down his chest and stopping near his soft cock. You lick the length, sucking him into your mouth to clean the mix of your wetness and his cum. He jumps, sitting up to push you anyway. “Fucking— Do you want to kill me?”
You laugh, falling back on the pillows, cheeky. “See? Not so easy.”
“Well, you’re young and healthy. I expect more of you.” Matty opens his arm, inviting you to tuck your head in his shoulder. Your arm drapes over his chest, halfway across his tattoo. “When’s your dad gonna be back?” He yawns.
“I don’t know,” you admit. It’s always up in the air; often, you don’t know he even came back until you wake up to the strong smell of Ethiopian coffee and the ghost of him in the flat. You shrug, “You could always sneak out if he’s there in the morning.”
Matty rubs his face. “Ugh, I feel like a teenager.”
You rest your chin on his shoulder, teasing, “Shouldn’t fuck such a young, innocent girl, then.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Innocent? You’ve seen the things you’ve done on my dick?”
“Shut up.” Quieter, you mumble, “I don’t think Mr. Snuffles’s ever gonna be able to unhear tonight.” His laughs rocks you, resonating against you. You grin on his skin.
You nuzzle further into his warmth, exhaustion settling in your bones. His arm warms your waist, pulling you further into him. You know you need to clean yourself up soon, but you allow yourself a short moment to relish the shape of him.
He tugs you out of sleep by piping up, voice sticky-tired, “If you want, I know the best fucking scallop place in town. We could go tomorrow.”
Halfway asleep, you say, “I’d like that.”
#this is. the Nastiest filthiest thing i’ve written#i may have gone overboard#but hey happy linecook resurrection!#linecook!au#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fic#matty healy x reader#matty healy smut#smut#writing#matty healy imagine#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fic
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and this is how it starts (flatmate!matty x reader smut)
this is quite literally day 1 of the relationship. like, condom-gate was mere hours ago lmao. also, someone said just thinking about flatmate matty and girlie literally just after condom gate and they're sitting on the couch and she's just kissing his neck and making out and he gets all flustered n floaty cos he's waited for this for so long 😕 maybe she teases him for getting hard so quickly and it's just sweet, i love them <3 so it's a bit of that too. enjoy <3
matty's not totally sold on the idea of there being a heaven, but his reasoning against it is weakening with every passing second. after all, what else could the situation he's in right now be, sprawled on the living room sofa with you on his lap and your lips connected? there's no other way of describing it.
he doesn't give a shit about description right now, though. or responsibility, or even time itself. all matty cares about is kissing you, softly moving his hands to rest in previously uncharted places on your body, and getting you to make those little whimpers that draw all the blood from his brain and redirect it to his dick. your hands weave into each other's hair, and an instinctive tug from matty has you pulling back and whining his name. he goes to pout at the removal of your lips from his own, but then you grind down harder onto him and drop your head into the crook of his neck; your lips meet the soft skin of matty's neck, and he can't stop the gasp that rips from his throat (or the hardening in his sweatpants).
holy fuck. in the many (many) dreams matty’s had about your lips, not once has he ever dreamt about them in this location.
what a twat he is.
another choked noise leaves his mouth as your tongue joins the party, and yet another follows when you moan into his skin at the way he clutches desperately at your hips. before he knows it, you're kissing him again, licking into his mouth with such intensity he's half-convinced you're trying to eat him. and he'd let you - his brain and heart have already been consumed by you, after all. why not let you devour him completely?
your teeth sink into matty's lower lip as if you might, and he whines; you giggle against him, and switch your lips back to his neck before repeating the bite, albeit softer on the delicate skin, pulling another wanton moan from him. the pain turns to pleasure in his nerves and ricochets throughout his body so hard that he feels his dick jump, despite the haze of pleasure clouding his senses and brain capacity.
judging by the way you gasp and grind down impossibly further onto your boyfriend, you feel it too. he's aware of your lips peeling from him, and then suddenly your beautiful face appears in his eyeline - your eyes and hair are wild, your lips are swollen from, well, use, and you've never looked more enticing than now. then you smile, and matty has to retract his previous statement. “i didn't know you were so into neck kissing, matthew.”
he's not sure if it's the use of his full name (chiding, teasing, patronising) or the glint in your eye (seldom seen, slightly manic, so fucking flirty) that does it, but matty feels his cheeks flood with colour and heat. you lightly run your thumb across one with a satisfied hum, and matty momentarily forgets how to breathe; when the palm of your hand brushes his throat on its way down to rest on his chest, he almost shuts down completely. but he quickly recovers enough to speak shyly. “isn’t everyone?”
“yeah, but, baby,” you roll your hips slowly against his, groaning quietly as you do, and whisper directly in his ear. “it just got you so fucking hard.”
christ.
matty says as much as he throws his head back against the sofa, and you giggle. he cracks one eye open to look at you, all happiness-glowy and dishevelled in his t-shirt, and he can't help but smile bashfully. “don’t take the piss, sweetheart.”
“i'm not!” you laugh, then smirk. “well, maybe a little bit.”
“fucking knew it,” matty lightly smacks your ass, grabbing the soft flesh and using it as leverage to rock your hips against his. “mocking me for a normal reaction to a kiss in an erogenous zone, you minx.”
“ooh, big word.”
“i’ll smack you again, i mean it.”
“do your worst,” you grin, circling your hips. “although i'll be surprised if you can focus with that - oh, fuck,” your voice trails off into a moan as matty grins and latches his lips onto your neck, sucking a bruise into the lightly-perfumed skin and soothing it with his tongue.
he smirks as he pulls back to admire his work; for all he's dreamed about marking you up as his like this, nothing comes even remotely close to the real thing. “seems to me like someone can't take it as well as she can give it,” matty coos, cupping your jaw and running his thumb over your pouty lips. “that right, baby?”
without breaking eye contact, you flick your tongue against the pad of his thumb - when you hear matty's breath hitch, you slowly slide your lips onto the digit, down to the knuckle, tongue still flicking around it. he swears under his breath, dick harder than he thinks it's ever been, other hand clutching so hard at your ass that he wouldn't be surprised if it bruised. somewhere deep in matty’s mind, there's a little part of him wracked with guilt at the thought of hurting you, sweet, beautiful you, but that part is far overshadowed by just how badly he wants to be inside you right now.
thankfully, you seem to want that too; you release his thumb with a pop and a connecting string of spit, and look doe-eyed at him. he’s not sure if he's ever seen anything so erotic on his life.“no. i can take it, matty.”
something shifts in the air when you say that - it's as if the molecules have gotten heavier, dropping a delicious tension into the atmosphere and knocking all flirty banter to the ground. you're so close he can see himself reflected amidst the desire in your eyes. so close that your breath mingles with his own, hot in the crisp autumn air. so close, and, for the first time, so available for him to touch.
and, god, does he want to touch you.
“you can take it?” matty asks, caressing your cheek and smiling when you nod. “now?”
“please.”
matty groans. “you'll kill me, sweetheart,” he quickly kisses you, smiling into your lips when you moan. “let me take you to bed and you can show me how well you take it, yeah?”
you pout. “wanna stay here.”
“so do i. but we need to go and get a condom, darlin.”
“don't worry,” you lean back slightly and pull the t-shirt over your head in a way matty can only liken to unwrapping a present; he swears when he sees the lacy black bra you're wearing, your tits threatening to spill over its scalloped trim. when you see him looking at your chest, you grin. “like my bra?”
“very much.”
“good. been saving it for you - you know, in case we ever… got to this stage in our relationship.”
matty blinks as the realisation settles in his mind and body. he's so turned on it's almost painful. “really? fuck, baby, that's so hot.”
you shrug bashfully. “got a whole drawer full of pretty underwear i only want you to see. been thinking about this for a while. which reminds me,” you reach into your bra and pull out a small foil square, and hold it up triumphantly. “no need to go to bed!”
matty laughs slightly deliriously. “you had a condom down your bra the whole time? fuck, you really want me, don't you?”
“on this couch, specifically,” you lean in to softly kiss his neck again, then drag your tongue up to whisper in his ear. “dreamt about riding you on it since the day i moved in.”
shit.
his hips buck up at the mere thought, eliciting whines from both of you. “wanna make your dream come true - need it, darlin, need you.”
“fuck,” your hands scramble to pull matty's t-shirt over his head, then pull his face to your own for a searing kiss. it doesn't last long, though, with you soon pulling back to guide matty's hands to the clasp of your bra; he catches on to your ideas quickly, undoing the thing with ease and sliding the bra from your body, while you clumsily balance on one knee at a time to get your panties off. matty huffs out a laugh when you roll your eyes and leave the underwear to dangle on your left calf, and you smile and wrap your arms around his neck. “what?”
“nothing, you're just cute - sit up for me, darlin, so i can lift my hips, thanks,” he replies, shimmying his sweatpants down with a shit-eating grin. “so impatient to fuck me that you can't even properly take your underwear off.”
you raise your eyebrows and tear the condom packet open with your teeth. matty feels his eyes roll back into his head when you finally touch him, pumping his dick three times before rolling the condom onto him - you hum happily at the weight of him in your soft hand. “i don't think i'm the impatient one here, babe.”
you're not wrong. still, disagreeing gives him a perfect excuse to rile you up with a touch, too. “no?” matty tilts his head, sliding a hand across your thigh and between your legs; before you can react, he slides a finger along your slit, catching the sticky arousal and dipping into your dripping cunt. your reaction - a shaky whimper - is incredible, almost as incredible as matty's realisation that it’s him who got you into this state. “oh, baby.”
he smiles when you whine his name, but it drops in favour of a gasp when you replace his finger in your folds with the head of his dick. without breaking eye contact, you gasp too. “matty, can i…?”
“please, angel,” matty moans, hands trailing up to squeeze your tits before returning home to your hips. “put me inside.”
“okay,” you all but whisper. a beautiful smile crosses your face, the sun breaking through clouds. “i love you.”
the way you say that, so giddy… matty thinks his heart could honestly burst. he gently cups your jaw with both hands. “i love you too.”
you giggle, and matty feels your cheeks heat up. “i'm glad i get to love you openly now.”
“me too, darlin,” matty kisses you slowly, passionately, but so sweetly; he wants you to be able to feel how much he loves you through his lips. he pulls back just enough to speak clearly, foreheads still touching. “wanna be even closer to you.”
“hold my hips, then, please,” you murmur against him, smiling and kissing him again when he obliges. shuffling around on your knees for a second, you line matty up with yourself, and slowly begin to sink down onto him. the feeling is mind-blowing for both of you, it seems - matty makes a choked groan at how tight you are, and you whimper as he stretches you further with every bit of him you slowly take. “matty.”
he responds with a moan of your name, rubbing soothing circles into your hips while you take him to the hilt with a series of dazed blinks. despite the pleasure already clouding his brain, matty touches your face in concern. “you feeling alright, darlin?”
“yeah. just full.”
“need a second?”
you nod. “sorry, baby.”
“no, not at all. feels amazing like this, anyway,” he strokes your cheek, relishing the way you melt into his touch. “knew you'd look fucking gorgeous on top.”
at that, you clench around him - he's not even sure you're aware of it, but he has to focus very hard on keeping himself from moving inside you - and speak again. “have you thought about this a lot?”
matty nods, trailing his hand down to your chest. “oh yeah.”
“so have i,” you smile, humming contentedly when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger - when he leans forward to take the bud into his mouth, you whine. “fuck, can i move now?”
“yeah,” matty moans around your tit, before pulling away and leaning back against the sofa. “ride me, angel.”
the sentence hasn't even fully left his mouth before you're obliging; the words trail into a raspy groan as you slowly pull yourself up and sink back down. his eyes want to close from the overwhelming pleasure of you fucking him, but he keeps them open because the sight of you like this is too incredible to miss even a second of. matty has no idea how many times he's dreamt of you doing exactly this to him, alone in his bedroom or hotel or tour bus bathroom, but every single fantasy pales in comparison to the real thing. after all, he couldn't have imagined the way your jaw trembles and your eyelids flutter every time he bottoms out inside you, sending an accomplishment high through his body that makes him feel better than any substance he's ever tried.
he has imagined the way your tits would bounce as you speed up your own bouncing on him. again, though, reality is so much better - not once in his dreams did you whine a plea while he tentatively touched them, or cry his name and clench around him in response to him pinching your nipples. the slight pain spurs you on, makes your hips move faster and wilder and matty's contract in pleasure, and he makes a mental note to remember the effect it has on you for future reference.
like he'd ever forget any of this. matty’s never felt so good in his fucking life.
when he tells you as much, you beam, and speed up yet again. oh. matty smirks as best he can through the intense pleasure. “you like it when i tell you how good you are, darlin?”
“mhmm,” you nod shyly, adorably incongruous with the way you're slamming your hips down to meet matty's. “wanna be perfect for you.”
fuck. “you are, sweetheart. my perfect girl,” matty sits up to kiss you, and you whimper into his mouth at the slight change in angle of him inside you. he smiles, switching his lips to your neck. “what else do you want, gorgeous?”
“want - oh, fuck - want you to touch me,” before matty even has the chance to respond, you suck his right thumb into your mouth again and lead it to your clit. “wanna cum.”
and who the fuck is he to deny you what you want, especially after seven years of also wanting to make you do just that?
“alright, darlin,” matty smiles, jaw dropping at the way you tighten impossibly further around him as he starts working little circles into your clit. “shit, that feels good.”
“yeah?”
he nods. “keep going, angel. actually, just use me to get yourself off. whatever you need to do.”
your eyes widen. “really?”
“really. wanna see you cum for me,” matty lightly bites the inside of your tit. “used to make myself cum thinking about you falling apart on top of me like this.”
a glint of something flickers in your eyes, something matty can't quite name. “so, if i cum,” you breathily begin, still rocking your hips. “you'll cum too?”
“pretty much, yeah.”
you smirk. “alright.”
with that, you brace your arms behind you on matty's thighs, using them as leverage to fuck him as hard as you possibly can. he gasps, nerves beginning to tingle with the orgasm he's been both holding off and craving for a while now, climax creeping closer with every bounce of your hips and tits; he's mesmerised by you, your beautiful body practically shaking above him as you ride your way to ecstasy, and whines of his name and various swear words and “don't stop touching me, please” pouring from your perfect lips.
matty does as he's told, thumb staying put on the bundle of nerves between your thighs. remembering his mental note from earlier, he brings his free hand down on your ass and kisses away the cry you let out on impact. “come on, sweetheart,” he coos against your mouth. “give in. cum for me, my love, let go for me. make me feel good.”
he leans back to look at you - you look utterly fucked, eyes heavy and teary, jaw slack and lips swollen, but you're so beautiful. when you look at him (probably just as fucked-looking, to be honest), you smile sweetly, but it soon drops off your face as you rush ever closer to the precipice of orgasm. “matty,” you whimper, voice cracking from overuse. “i'm gonna cum.”
no four words have ever sounded better to him. matty holds your face with his free hand; you nuzzle into it, and a wave of love washes over him. “do it, angel.”
your head drops onto his shoulder as your hips fall out of rhythm, and you cry into his neck as your body jerks in ecstasy. matty cries, grabbing your ass and leaning back so he can fuck up into your pulsing cunt as his own orgasm hits. he holds you flush against him as he cums into the condom, then lets you gently flop down as you both recover with panting breaths.
matty's so hazy from pleasure that it takes him a minute to register the chaste kisses you're planting on his neck - you lift your head when he giggles breathily, smiling so widely he's sure your face must hurt. “hi matty.”
“hi, baby,” he kisses your nose. “i love you.”
“love you too,” you give him a little smooch. “loved that.”
“fuck, so did i,” matty sighs, grinning at you. “you're really fucking good at that.”
“only cos it's you i was fucking,” you giggle. “my need to make you feel good outweighed the burning in my thighs. would've tapped out, otherwise.”
matty rubs the offending body part. “will you let me take care of you in return, then? after you've endured the pain and climbed off me so i can get rid of the condom, that is.”
you nod, hissing as you pull yourself off matty's dick and flop onto the couch beside him. he kisses you quickly before he stands, slightly shakily, and removes and ties off the condom; you protest when he places it on the coffee table. “matthew!”
“what? i put it on a coaster. and i'm not leaving it there!”
“still! i don't want used condoms on my good coffee table, even if it's us that's used them,” you stare at him for a second, and then collapse into giggles. “new flat rule?”
matty cackles. “all condoms put in the bin immediately after use. right, hold it for a second, then - and don't give me that face, it was inside you!” he sighs as he bends down and scoops you - holding the condom between your thumb and index finger, mildly disgusted - up bridal-style into his arms. your face softens when he kisses your head as he carries you down the hall. “fancy a bath? it'll help your legs.”
“only if you come in with me.”
he hums, nudging the bathroom door open and setting you down on your shaky legs; you chuck the condom in the bin. “i like the sound of that.”
“good,” you lean up to kiss him. “now please leave the room.”
“what? why?”
“because,” you say, turning the bath's hot tap on. “i need to piss. in peace.”
matty pouts overdramatically. “but i don't want to leave you.”
“out, healy,” you point at the door as matty giggles; you kiss his cheek as he leaves, though. “bring a bottle of wine in when you come back?”
“glasses, too? or just share the bottle?”
you scoff. “you were just inside me, and now you're worried i have germs?”
he laughs. “i love you.”
“i love you, too.”
#mads muses#mads does writing#flatmate!matty#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fic#matty healy fanfic#matty healy smut#matty healy x reader#matty x reader
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let me come home (illicit affairs part i)
content warnings: f! reader, angst, fluff, smut, sex toys, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex m receiving, oral sex f receiving, drug mentions (weed and ecstasy)
word count: 3.7k
Your sneakers squeak on the pristine tile floor of the hotel lobby as you hurry to the elevator. With your hoodie over your head, you look down at your phone.
“1221” says the most recent text. You whip your head up long enough to smile at the elevator attendant and tell him where you’re headed. Inside the small box, you feel flustered; claustrophobic with excitement and anxiety and anticipation. When you reach the twelfth floor, you dart out quicker than is polite and look behind you as you scan the room numbers in front of you. 17, 19, 21. You look to both sides again before knocking twice. Finally, the door swings open and you’re face to face with a jogger-clad Matty. He looks soft around the edges, worn-out. It’s probably the jet lag. He beams at the sight of you and you push past him into the room.
“Did you get the pigs in a blanket?” you ask him once you’ve left your shoes at the door. His face falls and his brows furrow.
“What kind of greeting is that?” he returns. You look at him blankly in a stalemate.
“They said it will be 45 minutes,” he relents. Your face lights up and you greet him with a kiss on the cheek. And the neck. Matty wraps his arms around you and leans down to kiss the top of your head. The sweet floral scent of your hair fills his lungs, intoxicating him more than any joint or drink could.
“Not to get you all riled up, but I sprung for some orange juice as well,” he says into your hair. You chuckle good-naturedly and lean up to meet his lips in a homecoming kiss. Your skin begins to sing as he kisses you back insistently, parting your lips with his tongue. You whimper softly at the euphoric feeling, already beginning to spread to your head and limbs.
“Think we can go for a round before they come up with it?” you ask conspiratorially.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” he replies. You’re smiling as he picks you up by your bum and carries you to the king sized bed, plopping you down unceremoniously in the middle. You move towards the top of it and shrug your hoodie off, revealing a red lace bra. Matty moves to cover you with his body as you get comfortable, your head against the plush, cold pillows.
One of his hands moves to trace the outline of your bra, flesh strains against the delicate fabric, practically begging to be released. He licks his bottom lip absentmindedly and his hand fully envelops your breast.
“Fuck, all this for me?” he asks. You roll your eyes.
“Obviously,” you smile back at him.
“You spoil me sweetheart. So fucking gorgeous,” his words are like syrup, sticky and sweet. They coat your tongue with sugar and go to straight your head. They linger in your mind when he's gone. You wish you could bottle them or press them into vinyl. Play them for your family and friends. Look, this is real. I’m his. A pang of hurt hits you right behind the eyes.
Matty is pressing soft, chase kisses to the exposed flesh on your chest. He looks so content– at home. Are you each others' homes?
“You okay baby?” he looks up at you, all pink lips and flushed skin and blown-out pupils, “you’re not taking the piss out of me for being sentimental.” His words make you chuckle, and snap from your melancholia. Your hands find his soft brown hair in answer to his question.
“I’m perfect. Fuck, keep going please,” his hands are around your back in no time, fumbling with the clasp of your bra. You arch your back to grant him more access and he groans at the feeling of you pressed into him. The euphoria clouds his mind and his fingers move uselessly behind you. You move your hand to cover them.
“Here, I got it,” you chuckle.
“No. Fuck, please let me. You went to all this effort, I wanna unwrap you myself,” he finally undoes the clasp and you lift your arms as he peels the garment off of you, brushing his lips down your arm as he does. Your breasts, once held up perfectly by the lingerie, flatten on your chest, you look down at them. Matty catches you looking.
“Don’t worry, they’re perfect,” he kisses the valley between your tits, right next to your heart. “Perfect, perfect,” the movements of his mouth massage the soft flesh of your right breast as he moves further in. “Perfect,” he says and captures your right nipple in his mouth, immediately swirling his tongue around it, wetting you completely. His teeth close softly around the bud and just when you think you’ve got him figured out, he replaces them with his lips, sucking devotedly at you. Your skin is on fire and he’s the only one who can extinguish it. You know he’ll bring you right to the edge of burning down before he does.
You arch up into the feeling of his warm mouth and have a moment of clarity long enough to realize he’s still in his t-shirt. Your hands move to the hem and push it up his rigid stomach.
“Off, off, off,” you say deliriously. It’s meant to be sexy, but it comes out whiney, needy. Why are you always so needy?
Your thoughts are cut off by the sight of his fair skin littered with tattoos, passing thoughts he’s memorialized on his body. Your lusty eyes devour him and all of the sudden you need more control.
“Switch with me,” you demand. He obliges without a word and you take your leggings off as he shuffles around on his back. You move back over him, now clad only in a red thong that barely functions as underwear. Matty notices it at the same time you do: you’ve left a wet mark on his gray sweatpants where you straddled him. He reaches down to touch the damp fabric between your thighs, warm and inviting. He plays with the lace, pulling it up so it rubs deliciously between your folds and roughly on your clit. Your head falls back and you begin to grind against his hand as he moves the fabric back and forth, finally gathering the friction you came here for. His fingers wander down to your hole and push tentatively into you. He’s only halfway in when he pulls them out. Your eyes snap up to him annoyed. He offers you a conciliatory glance.
“Can I eat you out?”
You’re appeased. You dismount him to shuck your last stitch of clothing off. As you crawl back up his body, his eyes catch yours.
“You thought I was gonna be mean? What on earth would make you think that?” Your mind’s eye flashes back to a reunion a month ago, your hands tied beautifully above your head as Matty edged you cruelly with a vibrator. Come and get it, greedy girl. The obscenities echo in your head. You blush at the thought and at his taunts.
“Shut up,” you say timidly, and cover his face with your wet cunt. He’s got his arms around your thighs and his tongue slicing up between your folds, treating you to a variety of sensations as he pays attention to each sensitive part of you. Your hands come up to brace yourself against the headboard as he begins to work on your clit, licking in sweet sideways strokes before sucking it into his mouth. As the pressure in your body increases, you begin to ride his face, furiously chasing your release.
“Mmmmph fuck, good girl,” the vibrations from his moans go straight into your pussy and increase your pleasure tenfold.
“Please, please stay like that. I’m gonna cum,” you warn. He releases a lengthy moan into you as you continue to chase your peak. He knows he’s the only person to have ever made you cum, and he still gets off on it every time. He moves his mouth away from you long enough for you to hear what he’s saying.
“Cum for me, please. Need you all over my face baby,” and with that he’s back in you everywhere. Hands coming to cover your backside and reach into your wetness, his tongue licking up into your hole, filling you. His nose bumps into your clit at intervals that drive you crazy. But what tips you over the edge is when he moves his hand to the bottom of your entrance, pushing gently against your back wall. You feel so full and euphoric as your orgasm washes over you, starting at the space between your legs and spreading to your chest, your fingers, your nose. You ride him through it and stop when you can’t take it anymore, breathing heavily. His fingers are still pressed inside you. He’s obsessed with knowing it’s real, feeling your heartbeat against his fingers and face. You know you can never fake it with him, and what’s more you don’t have to.
You move off of him and lay on your back. He ducks to the side to clean himself a bit and then leans over to kiss you. You put your hand on his head and move him away gently.
“My face is numb. Can’t feel you,” you say bashfully.
“Yeah?” he’s proud and smiling, eyes squinted so tight you can’t make out his irises.
“Sorry,” you say.
“Please, that’s the best reason I’ve ever heard not to kiss someone,” he grins and pulls you into his chest to come down. Your hands come up to the space below his ribs, trace his top abdominals, get lost in the sweet smattering of chest hair that covers his tattoos.
A knock at your door snaps you from your reverie. You hurry under the duvet as Matty gets up, stretching his muscular arms gratuitously before heading to the door.
The hotel worker has a table he’s wheeling around and he begins to push it into the room. Matty is quick to stop the table and wink at the guy.
“I’ll take it from here, mate thanks,” he says and hands him a $20 note. With the door finally closed, Matty rolls your midnight snack over to your side of the bed. He pours you orange juice from the carafe before crossing the room to faff about with his luggage. You watch him curiously as you sip on your orange juice, slowly feeling the weight return to your body as you replenish your blood sugar. He produces a beautifully wrapped box from his duffel.
“What’s this?” you ask. It’s not uncommon for Matty to give you gifts, but he’s always finding some way to surprise you. He’s sweet, impossibly sweet. Though you suppose it must be easy to be nice when you’re rich. You push the thought away. Nothing exists outside of these four walls. Nothing exists except us.
He gets into bed and slots himself behind you. He kisses your shoulder as he places the parcel on the covers.
“Open it,” he insists. You rip the wrapping paper eagerly and see the box of a beautiful — that’s really the only word you could use to describe it — vibrator. It’s the fanciest you’ve ever seen: pink and white and gold. You want to laugh, of course he’d make an investment when it comes to this.
“You’re crazy, this is a fancy fucking vibrator,” you chuckle and lean your head against him. He reaches over to the table and uncovers the pigs in a blanket. He feeds one to you tenderly before enveloping you in his arms.
“You know our sex is too good for second rate toys,” he states, smiling into your neck. You finish chewing and turn around in his lap before hugging him around his neck.
“All this and room service?” you tease, opening the box excitedly.
“What can I say, I’m a generous guy,” he smiles slyly, taking the box from your struggling hands, “Now hurry up and eat, I wanna use it on you.” Your heart jumps into your throat.
“I don’t need to eat, I’m ready now,” you tell him, defiant. He loves it, loves how eager you are, how badly you want him, how you treat him like he’s the only person you’ve ever had. He traces his pointer finger over your cupid's bow.
“I’m ready too, darlin’ but I need you to eat something. After that I’ll keep you up all night long. I promise,” he coos. He grabs two more bites of food and gives one to you, cheersing you before eating his whole.
—
Matty gently removes the vibrator from your swollen, red clit and gets up off the bed as he quickly rids himself of his boxers. He leans back over your face and kisses you, admiring your blissed out expression.
“Do I need to get a condom?” he knows that, with you guys, it’s not always safe to go without. He wouldn’t pressure you, but he knows you’d rather feel him wholly, if you can. Obviously, he feels the same way. You blush a little.
“I’m actually good this time. I’ve not been with anyone else,” you don’t know why you’re shy about it. Surely, he wouldn’t find that lame, would he? No, he would like it, you think. He would like that he’s the only person to have been with you recently. Maybe you’re kidding yourself. He touches your face and snaps you out of it.
“I haven’t either,” he says calmly, “don’t trust anyone like I trust you.” He climbs back over top of you and kisses you deeply, “turn over for me, yeah?”
You oblige, settling comfortably on your stomach. He moves a pillow under your hips and hikes your right leg up at an angle on the bed. You hear buzzing again behind you as Matty positions the vibrator on your clit.
“You feel good?” he asks.
“Yes,” you’re a little out of breath, dumb with anticipation, “Need you though. Need it harder.”
You feel him running up and down through your folds, almost dipping into you. You moan obnoxiously, too proud to tell him again how much you need him. It’s enough for him, he pushes into you unhurriedly, savoring the moment, relishing in every inch he stretches you. When he bottoms out, he moves his hands up beside your shoulders and whispers in your ear.
“Fuck you’re so tight. Can I move?” You nod frantically into the pillow and he begins to snap his hips into yours. You feel your heartbeat everywhere as your pleasure begins to build. Matty covers your hands in his and stretches them out in front of you, keeping you in place as he fucks you precisely. Each time he bottoms out, he presses your clit perfectly against the vibrator.
“Good girl. You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he pants in your ear. He’s dominant, but it’s sweet and the perfect mixture of submission and pride swirls around your foggy brain as you begin to float. You try to focus on one feeling at a time, his cock sliding in and out of you, his hands on yours, his warm breath on your ear, the vibrations on the tortured nub between your legs. It’s too much all together. You let yourself go, brain wiping completely as you buck senselessly against the pillow, trying to meet his hips. You cum without realizing that the feeling was creeping up on you, attacked with pleasure as you collapse on the bed in total bliss. Matty’s not far behind, watching you unravel beneath him makes his ego swell and he fucks into you even harder than before.
“I need a second,” you say. It catches Matty off-guard and he stills above you, pulling out slowly. He turns you on your back so he can see your eyes.
“You okay?” he searches your face for any discomfort.
“I’m fucking great. Just sensitive. Were you close?” you ask, suddenly concerned you’ve ruined it for him.
“Yeah, I was,” he seems unbothered. He smiles down at you. You take his hard cock in your hand and begin to pump him over your stomach. “Fuuuuuuuck,” his head rolls back, “can I come in your mouth?”
You kneel in response and push him down onto his back and take him in your mouth, bobbing up and down, wetting him completely and keeping the pressure on him. He reaches out to grab your hand as he begins to spurt into your mouth. The salty tang of him tastes like victory. You smile at him; a content, fucked out grin and then swallow. He wipes a bit left over by the side of your mouth.
“C’mere,” he whines and pulls you into him again. “Goddamn you’re so good to me.”
“Aw don’t go soft on me now, Healy,” you taunt. He groans.
“Don’t be cute. I just came, I don’t have my wits well enough about me to go toe-to-toe with you,” he responds.
“Now if only you’d admit the same about the rest of the time,” you muse.
“Cheeky,” he bops your nose. You let silence fill the room for a moment.
“How long are you here for?” you question, looking up at him. A word from him could change the course of your life, it seems. No, you’re not in love with him. You wouldn’t let yourself do that. But god it feels right with him. It makes sense that you’d want to prolong your time with him for as long as possible. You’re not you when you’re with him. Well yes, you’re you, but a freer, less encumbered you. Like you’re on vacation, or on ecstasy…or something. He makes all the hurt go away. All of the hurt is outside, and inside is a protective fort of your own making. Your shelter.
“Five days. ‘Til Sunday,” he says, “can’t stand the heat longer than that.” You know Matty hates Los Angeles. You don’t blame him, really. It doesn’t seem anything like home to him.
But it still makes you sad. That he might spend bits of his free time in other places just because he likes the atmosphere better. That he would choose to be away from you even though you feel more like home to him than any city could.
“Okay,” you say. It didn’t really need an answer. You can’t see him every day anyways. You have a job and housemates that will wonder where you are, and a mother who’s always begging you to come by for dinner. You don’t tell them about him: your booty call, the rockstar. That would go over well. Anyways, you two are the only ones who get you. Everything goes bad once it leaves the safe-haven you’ve carefully built for yourselves. Rumors and questions and judgements. You’d rather keep it all here. Where it can be perfect.
“Will you tell me about Spain?” you query as you nestle yourself back into him, pushing away the future and snuggling back into the present.
“It was fucking unreal, darlin’. You would have loved it. All these breathtaking old churches and mosques. People dancing, playing guitar, and cheering in the streets. And the food, god. I know you too well to take you there, you would eat yourself silly and then tell me you’re too full to make love to me,” he chuckles.
“That seems like an appropriate behavior on vacation,” you push back.
“It is, but I want you all to myself,” he flips the two of you onto your sides and buries his head in your chest as he squeezes you impossibly closer. “Does that make me selfish?”
His voice sounds so small when it’s coming from under the covers.
“Maybe,” you say. He looks up at you like he might be hurt, “but I’m selfish when it comes to you, too.” You consider your next words, scared to be too candid. No, you think, If anyone would want me to be honest, it’s Matty.
“I get a little rush when you tell me that you haven’t been with anyone since you last saw me,” you say tentatively.
“Me too, sweetheart. It’s different with you.” You breathe a sigh of relief. You sit up and grab the glasses off the side table and go to the restroom. You relieve yourself quickly and fill the water cups, bringing them back to bed.
“Can I ask you a question?” you say. Matty raises his eyebrows in answer as he takes a sip of water. “What does it really feel like for guys when you have sex with girls? You guys always act like it feels so good when you first put it in. Is it really like that every time?”
Matty smiles softly at your earnestness. “I thought you were gonna ask me something serious,” he teases.
“I am being serious,” you insist.
He considers you, your expression, your posture. Deciding what you want from him. The truth, he thinks. All she ever wants is the truth. He takes you in his arms.
“You know when you get back from a holiday and you get to sleep in your bed on your pillow again for the first time in weeks?” you nod along. “It’s like that, but a thousand, no— a million times better. Especially if it’s with someone you know. It’s a relief. It’s safe. It feels like coming home.” You look at him, searching for any little bit of artifice. You find none, you should know by now that you won’t find any with him. Why can’t you trust that?
“You feel like coming home, darlin’.”
You believe him. You agree. So why does it still hurt? You put your head on his chest and close your eyes.
“So do you. Thanks for taking me home.”
“Anytime.”
You know he doesn’t quite mean it—any time he’s in town, yes. Anytime he’s not with a groupie in Japan. Anytime he’s not dealing with some work obligation or visiting his family in England. But as sleep begins to crowd your brain, you let yourself take his words at face value. Anytime. Anytime. He’ll come home anytime.
a/n: please tell me your thoughts etc. I hope this brightens your day! see you all at satvb this fall <3
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Chicken Shop Date | Part 7 |
By @imagine-that-100 and @alovesreading
Description: Matty Healy x Reader (Female) | You and your best friend Amelia came up with a very simple idea of taking celebrities on awkward chicken shop dates, and somehow, it’s managed to become both of your jobs. In the past, you’ve found sitting across from some of the biggest stars on the planet and eating chicken nuggets easy. But then Amelia manages to score you a date with the man who you’ve been obsessed with since you were nineteen; Matty Healy.
Word Count: 36.9k
A/N: Bestiesssss, we’re back with a monster of a chapter. Hope you’re ready for smut, angst, and fluff. This brings it allllllllll! Honestly can’t wait to see what you all think of this one, please give us all of your reactions as we love to see it and it keeps us motivated to write. We have a little cameo in this chapter, she was already going to be in it before anything happened irl so yeah, funny how things turn out hahaha. Thank you for being patient and sticking with us, we really hope you enjoy! x
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |
| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |
~*~*~*~ January 1st 2023 ~*~*~*~
Waking up in his arms feels like something out of a dream.
You feel warm inside and out, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips feeling his slow breaths hitting the back of your neck. You faintly remember coming back to his and the concrete walls surrounding you confirm that your hazy memory isn’t betraying you.
The light peeking through the windows burns harshly even through your closed eyes but it isn’t enough to bother you when you’re in such bliss to be waking up next to Matty. Or rather, in front of him, since he’s got his chest pressed against your back with an arm wrapped around your waist which has you flush against him.
A hum of content falls from your lips as you relish and shuffle impossibly closer to him, your movement making him stir in his sleep and open his eyes a few seconds later.
Matty smiles seeing the back of your head the second he opens his eyes, nuzzling his face on the back of your neck and pressing soft kisses on your skin to let you know he’s awake.
A string of giggles leaves you when feeling his curls tickling your neck and his plush lips on your skin causing an eruption of butterflies in your belly.
“Good morning baby,” Matty greets with a smile on his face, one that you can feel in the crook of your neck where he finds a place to hide and continues to drop kisses.
His raspy morning voice makes something inside you shift, and combined with the feeling of his fingers clutching you tighter, you start letting thoughts run around your head that you know you shouldn’t be having this early in the morning.
It gets worse when his fingers let go of your waist and start to wander, at the same time as his mouth lazily leaves a trail of kisses down to your shoulders. You feel his fingertips tracing to the side of your stomach and lowering until it reaches your hip, the smile on your face growing when the faint touch seems to electrify your body awake.
And then his mouth goes retracing its path from your shoulders up your neck whilst his fingers teasingly ghost from your hip to the middle of your belly, falling down until it reaches your lower stomach and your breath hitches in your throat rather loudly in the silence you’ve fallen inside his room.
Still hiding on your neck, you can feel him smirking, not to mention his hot and heavy breath getting closer to your ear where he whispers, “How are you feeling?” as if he doesn’t already know the answer.
Humming, you let yourself get lost in his presence. The pads of his fingers rubbing circles on your lower stomach which have your body reacting at the growing desperation of feeling him everywhere else. Like the rest of your skin is jealous he’s concentrating solely on that spot.
“Good,” You eventually reply, but knowing that if you need anything, and that he’ll most likely give it to you if you ask. So you add, “A bit horny though.”
Matty chuckles into your neck. A bit, an understatement. He had felt your hips writhe just before he had asked you, his dick twitching in his Calvins at your noticeable response to him.
“Right,” He hums and starts pressing his lips on your neck again, only this time they are more wet and open mouthed kisses than just simple pecks, “Only a bit?”
You nod, biting your bottom lip to not make any sound when you feel him start sucking on a certain spot in your neck which he had taken a mental note yesterday that you enjoyed.
He grows more intently at bruising your neck in that spot in particular, making you take a deep breath so you don’t give into making noises just yet. But he knows exactly what you’re doing so in a swift movement, he gets a hold of your leg and lifts it up enough for him to fit one of his legs in between yours, pushing his hips forwards so you feel him growing harder. And he can’t help but silently congratulate himself when you finally let out a gasp that turns into a mewl that satisfies him for a few seconds.
Matty’s fingers have a grip on the plush flesh of your inner thigh, the pressure is delicious combined with the rolling of your hips as you’re both looking to keep the friction going, and his mouth continuing its attack on the skin of your neck has your eyes rolling back in pleasure.
You’re about to complain when his fingers let go of your leg, letting it fall over his leg in between yours, but then you feel the running up your inner thigh until it grazes the edge of your underwear. You just can’t help but let out a high pitched moan which is pleading for him to touch you right where you need him.
It’s lucky Matty has grown to read your mind, your sounds, your body language, because he gives you just what you want by pushing the fabric of your underwear aside and runs his fingers up and down your slick.
“F-fuck,” You let out a strangled curse at the slight pressure he applies when he finds your clit, his fingers moving agile and easily since you’re already wet for him.
Feeling him growing harder, pressed against your arse makes you even more turned on, and the groan he lets out in your ear goes straight down to your core too.
After biting your earlobe, he teases you further by asking, “What do you need, baby?” as if your throbbing cunt wasn’t clearly clenching around nothing.
“Your fingers.” You answer breathlessly, half lidded eyes from the pleasure he was giving you.
You hear him hum, pleased with your answer before his fingers curl to go inside you. Easily getting two in, knuckles deep, to stretch you out heavenly.
The noise of his fingers pumping in and out of you mixed with your breathless moans and gasps and his groans made for a pornographic scene but after a minute, you need more of him. You can feel his hips bucking into your arse in search of relief and the tease of his dick pressed against you was driving you insane.
So in between your ragged breaths, you let him know, “Baby- I need you. Need you to fuck me.”
The request unravels something inside him, a guttural groan leaving his throat and his fingers leaving you in a haste.
You whine at the loss of him, but your noise is hushed by his fingers coming up to your mouth for you to suck clean. You do as you’re silently instructed, Matty watching you over your shoulder as you sink your mouth onto his slick wet fingers with his mouth falling agape. You make a show of how much you enjoy tasting yourself on his fingers, which ends up with him using his other hand to grab a fistful of your hair and pull on it so your head is thrown back at an angle good enough for his lips to crash against yours.
You swallow a loud moan that falls from his lips when your tongues meet and he tastes you on your tongue, his hand tracing down your front, pulling his borrowed top up exposing more of your skin until he once again finds your hips. Then he completely removes his hand from your body so he can pull down his boxers and free his hard on, you’re pushing your underwear down your hips and quickly pulling it down your legs and shedding yourself off it.
He breaks the kiss to let out a hiss of pleasure, finally feeling the soft skin of your arse freely pressed against his hard cock.
Helping him a little, you lift your leg up so he can position himself better in between your legs. Your cheeks pressed together as he guides his hard dick up and down your folds, gathering your arousal and mixing it with the precum already dripping from his angry red head.
He giggles when he taunts you by rubbing the head of his cock on your clit, making you shiver and squirm from the desperate need to have him fill you up.
“Matty-” You choke out in a beg, feeling yourself clenching around nothing again and growing impatient.
The need he has to feel you wrapped tight around him again interrupts his thoughts of even continuing to tease you, so he properly lines himself up with your entrance and pushes forward to stretch you out and allow himself in again.
Cries of pleasure fall from both of you, creating a gorgeous harmony to your ears. The angle is something else, you can feel him so deep inside you and he feels like you’re trying to swallow him whole with how tight you are around him.
He pulls his hips back slightly, cautious of going too further back since it feels like with the tightness of your walls you could push him out, and pushes back in again until his hips are pressed flush against your arse.
The pace is set after a few more thrusts, intently and not too fast, hard enough for you to feel him press against that spot that drives you mad with each movement of his hips, drawing loud moans from you.
Praising you for how good you feel, he keeps going. The bed starts moving with you, your arousal wetting where you met and showing through the noises it causes every time your skin meets.
A thin coat of sweat appears on your skin as you keep going, your hand coming to fist the sheets next to you in an attempt to keep you grounded as you feel like the more the knot tightening in your lower belly, the more you lose grasp of reality.
Matty’s hand came behind your leg to push it up so he had more range of movement to push his hips forward and that is the thing which makes you both grow even louder. You have to press your face on the pillow to drown your moans, eventually having to turn your head so you can catch some air.
You’re clenching so hard around him, it’s driving him insane and the messy moans and groans he lets out he doesn’t even have the mind to think about. It makes everything for you so much better, not only is he making your head spin, knowing he’s feeling just as much pleasure makes your skin grow hotter.
In between choked out moans, you let him know you are about to tip over the edge, “Baby, I’m so close- F-feels so good!”
Your praise makes him grow even more intently to make you cum, so snaking his arm over your leg, he reaches down until he finds your clit and starts rubbing it, adding enough pressure to have you seeing stars.
“Oh fuck!” You let out loudly right before you cum, legs trembling as he continues to rub on your swollen clit and thrusting in and out of your slick cunt.
You’re clenching so hard around him, he can’t hold back any longer and cums hard, thrusts going sloppy as your tight walls milk him out through his orgasm.
He continues to ride your highs out, both of you coming back to your senses and it’s only when he pulls out of you that he realises a mistake you both hadn’t noticed.
“Fuck…” Matty curses under his breath when he notices he’s not got to shed himself of a condom because he forgot to even put one on.
For a few seconds you remain blissfully unaware, still tingling with adrenaline and excitement, you just think he’s cursing after the wave of pleasure and you giggle to yourself. But then he’s pulling his boxers up and running off the bed to the bathroom like he’s been shocked back to life and it leaves you confused.
That is until you feel it. You feel his cum slowly dripping out of you.
And when he walks through his bedroom door again, with a damp small towel in hand, you narrow your eyes at him like you’ve caught him red handed.
“Matthew.” You scorn with a low voice and he gives you a childish side smile like he’s trying to act innocent.
He lifts the sheets up from your body, showing you still wearing his shirt but your bottom half bare and sprawled on top of the bed.
“Sorry,” He apologises lightheartedly, kneeling on the bed until he’s hovering above you and leans down to press a kiss on your lips, “I didn’t realise.”
All you can do is giggle, because you hadn’t either, it’s not a surprise it felt so good. Thankfully you’re on birth control and you knew you had only been with each other so this wasn’t a matter to absolutely go insane about.
“It’s okay.” You mumble against his lips, stealing another kiss before he could get to cleaning you up like he was intending to.
Cupping his jaw, you break the kiss but leave him with a few pecks before you pat his cheek and instruct him to, “Go on.”
He steals one last cheeky kiss before looking down and doing what he was meant to do, which ends up being delayed as he seems entranced by the way he sees his seed spilling out of you slowly.
You’re watching him intently, biting your bottom lip not to laugh at the way he’s staring, but then a fair few more seconds go by and he’s completely frozen in his place so you have to snap him out of it.
“Matty!” You exclaim with the hint of a laugh behind it, which ends up spilling from your lips when his eyes shoot up to look at you and then back down and he ends up clearing his throat to nod.
“Sorry.” He apologises again, finally bringing the damp cloth down to clean you up. You hiss at the feeling of it brushing against your sensitive clit and his jaw falls when you swallow a moan.
Concentrating particularly hard, he finishes his task a minute later, once again leaving for the bathroom not without kissing you once more but this time reminding you, “You’re so hot baby.”
That draws another string of laughter from you, entirely amused by his behaviour. You can’t stop the loopy smile that breaks on your face when you watch him hurriedly leave the room like he has no time to waste when you’re around him.
Your heart doubles in size in your chest and as you gather the energy to get up to head to the bathroom yourself. You guess that the next few days with him will look just like this and you must admit, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
~*~*~*~*~*~
You were correct. Making the most of the beginning of January with Matty really did involve a lot of what happened after your date and the morning after. It was rare you ever left each other alone.
In fact, when you weren’t getting better acquainted with each other's bodies, you still didn’t leave each other alone. The first few days you spent solely at Matty’s house, and you both just relaxed into each other's company, but there wasn’t ever really a second you left each other unaccompanied.
If anyone else was in your presence, they would have thought you were both being embarrassingly clingy. Something which in private you absolutely can’t get enough of.
It was just the simple things about being in his presence that made you so happy. When he would lift your legs over his lap and trace soft patterns on your thigh, or him raising his arm so you would cuddle into him as you practically shared one seat on his three seater settee.
You cooked together, watched TV together, showered together, and just chilled out together doing your own things but you were always connected in one way or another. If Matty wanted to go on his PlayStation, your legs would be on his lap and you either watched him play and chatted as he did, or you read one of his books.
Not to mention the way he would lay down and put his head in your lap, or if you were in bed he would cuddle up to you refusing to let you go. You also found that Matty left kisses on you every chance he could. Whether that was a peck on the lips, or a random few placed on your arm or your knee or your stomach. He would basically kiss you any chance he could and then proceed to cuddle you.
One of the things you personally thought was the cutest thing about him, is that when you were getting ready to go to sleep each night, Matty would always interrupt you doing your skincare. At first he was just being a dick, squeezing or scooping more product out than you needed and then smearing it on your face to mess with you. But then you would start to use the excess on him so it wasn’t going to waste and that was how every night you started doing each other's skincare. Something which always had the both of you smiling goofily at each other and giggling until it hurt your stomach.
Everything was just so mundane and domestic. You let yourself indulge the thought of this being something more and you secretly really loved it. But you weren’t going to let yourself get too in your head about that. You’re enjoying yourself and you’re certain that Matty is too so you’ll wait for the conversation to be brought up, you’re in no rush to label anything. You’re just happy you’re along for the ride.
On the 3rd, Matty had his friend Sam drop Mayhem and Allen round for the day and you got to meet them both and they were the goodest boys. Despite Mayhem being fucking huge, he’s the softest boy and was so cute. Allen is just as good and it was a real shame when Matty got Sam to pick the both of them up the day after.
You’re sure he only did it so he could get you back into bed because whenever either of you would start something, one of the dogs would interrupt wanting attention. After the fifth time of it happening, you could see Matty slowly losing his patience so it wasn’t a shock that after the dogs left, you very quickly found yourself being undressed in his kitchen. And after bruising your knees for him, the both of you let desperation get the best of you, neither of you even attempted trying to make it to bed or even his settee in the next room.
On the 5th, George and Charli invited the both of you to their house, in the day this time, and you got to see it free of people socialising. You had a really nice day with them, Charli once again teasing you about Matty, just as much as Matty does himself, but you know she’s coming from a good place and seeing her and George together in their home filled your heart with so much joy.
A relationship like theirs is what you’ve been striving for. Their happiness is unmatched and the way they look at each other when they think no one else is looking is beyond heartwarming. You love them together and you can see just how much they adore each other.
The day after that was slightly different from the rest. You went for a walk around the area where he lives, and went out and bought yourselves some lunch at a cafe before heading back. It had been a really lovely day, but later on when you were lying down together and you were holding hands, your fingers intertwined, and you noticed a small scar on his knuckle. And when you asked about it, you almost regretted doing so immediately, but only because it looked like it hurt so much for him to tell you the story behind it.
Matty on the other hand, once he got through telling you, was happy that you finally knew about him and about his past. He hates the story, knowing all the consequences of what happened back when he got the scar, but he’s just happy you finally know pretty much everything about his past, relationship wise.
Throughout the time it took for him to tell you, he was apologising for getting emotional about it, as if he wasn’t explaining personal things that weren’t easy to get off his chest. You would hate to think that he would ever feel the need to apologise for crying about something so upsetting that happened to him. You kept assuring him that it was okay and you wiped away his tears when he didn’t do it himself sometimes and you were there to listen, and it just made you believe that you got to know him on a deeper, more intimate level.
You understand why he told you, you think he mostly wanted to warn you that he sometimes still had nightmares about it. And he told you that sometimes they wrecked him so badly that he had to call Flo to make sure that she was alright to calm his tears and erratic heartbeat before he could even try to go back to sleep. He explained that thankfully they were infrequent now but it was another reason that made it more difficult for him to sleep which is why he stayed up late a lot of the time.
It made you want to wrap him in bubble wrap and protect him at all costs. You could definitely tell that there was some factor of worry with him telling you, as if his trauma would somehow put you off him which it didn’t in the slightest. It just made you closer and that night you fell asleep with Matty cuddling you possibly the tightest he ever had before.
By the 7th, it felt bittersweet that a week had passed already and you were leaving for LA tomorrow and Matty was about to head off on tour. But you made the most of it. Matty made a show of making you cum on his tongue twice, leaving you aching to be filled and fucked, before he gave into your wishes and buried himself deep inside you over and over until you both came undone together.
After that glorious morning, the both of you reluctantly left the sanctuary of his bedroom and his house to go back to your flat and pack your things ready for LA. It didn’t take you long, you were there no longer than an hour and a half between Matty stopping you from completing your tasks with various make out sessions that he tried to turn into more but you only stopped him from letting it go any further because you knew if you didn’t pack everything and check it over twice you would be panicking later.
Thankfully Matty understood and he helped you pack rather excessively for a two day trip but regardless he found you endearing. Once you were done, Matty persuaded you to go back to his, which you agreed to so on route back both of you grabbed a take out.
After eating like kings and queens, you helped Matty pack for his tour. Like with your outfits for the carpet, your stylists were taking them for you, so you just helped him pack his normal clothes along with things he wanted to take. It took a similar amount of time as it did for you to pack as he was only away for 3 days before he was back in London and he would be staying at home for those days instead of on the bus. He would repack before they headed back on the road.
That night, the both of you fucked again until you were breathlessly clutching each other, entirely blissed out. And you tried your best to stay awake as long as you could afterwards just to extend the time you had with him, but, being the grandma you are, were a bit pathetic and fell asleep around midnight.
Time really felt like it had gotten away from you, it didn’t feel like a week had passed at all. For Matty especially, it felt like maybe two days had passed. He wasn’t ready to let you go yet, he wanted to have you cuddled into his chest like you were that last night forever. For a good hour he jut kept looking down at you and kissing the top of your head wondering how fucking lucky he must be for you to want to be wrapped up in bed with him.
It was nights like that where Matty didn’t mind his insomnia. He got to savour the moment for that bit longer which he would be forever grateful for because he truly can’t get enough of you. As you sleep in his arms, he reads a little from the book he could just about reach without disturbing you, but ultimately he ends up on his phone.
It may come back to bite him but he can’t stop himself from taking a selfie of the both of you lying together like that. He takes a few, one he knows you’ll hate because it’s mostly of your sleeping face with his head poking out above it, but then he raises the phone to take some from above, and the last few he kisses your head again.
After getting lost scrolling through twitter and laughing at the various memes the fans have been posting recently, Matty remembers his account that he deactivated almost a month ago now and curses himself for letting it go for so long. He reactivates it and pisses about on it for a while, tweeting a few things and giving it about half an hour before he deactivates once again.
Once he’s bored of that, he decides to make the most of you cuddling up into him again. He puts his phone on charge and turns off the bedside lamp before wrapping both his arms around you and hugging you tighter. The cute little noise you release, which sounds like a content hum, has Matty’s heart aching even more for you. He’s never been so happy to fall asleep beside someone before.
Waking up the next morning is blissful. Matty’s arm is loosely wrapped around your waist and your senses are completely overcome by him. It was difficult to accept that this would be the last time for a while after waking up to him every day the past week. So you savour it, you don’t get out of bed or even try to move, you just reach for your phone and check your notifications.
When you do, you want to elbow the man beside you awake because the twat had been back on Twitter after you fell asleep. Something which you loved but also slightly hated because you felt like you missed out on him reactivating and seeing something potentially funny, as if you were in bed next to the man himself and have been by his side all week.
When you went onto your phone, you saw screenshots from The 1975 update accounts you follow on there on your anonymous account, and saw that Matty had tweeted.
ok I reactivated so I didn’t loose this, honestly, culturally important account I’ll see you after UK tour gunna be mysterious
The spelling mistake made you chuckle, but it’s the next tweet that has you smiling like a fool before you’re even fully awake.
oh and I’ve got myself a missus so there can't be any kissin, cya losers
Seeing them leaves you with a gooey feeling in your stomach despite reminding yourself not to get ahead of yourself. But because it's your last morning you don’t want to just waste it. You twist yourself around and start kissing the man beside you awake. It may be a little selfish of you but you don't want to miss a second and Matty seems more than happy to wake up when he catches sight of you.
That morning, you spent a fair amount of time in bed, both busy and just cuddling, not wanting it to be over so soon. But when midday arrives you know Matty has to start getting ready to go. He’s meeting everyone at 3pm and on the way he said he wanted to drop you off at Amelia's.
When the time came to say goodbye, it felt bittersweet. You were both excited, you for the Golden Globes and Matty for the start of tour, but you didn’t want to say goodbye. There was a lot of hesitation and it was lucky the both of you set off early because it ended up being so drawn out.
You laughed because you were both only going away for a few days and you would be back for their first night in London. After lots of stolen kisses and an incredibly long hug you finally said goodbye to each other and you made your way into your best friend's flat but not before turning back and blowing a kiss to the cute curly haired brunette who wouldn’t take his eyes off you.
The whole afternoon you were texting each other, and it only stopped when they were soundchecking. But even then he sent you a selfie of himself on the stage which was adorable.
Time ends up escaping you though and knowing they go on stage at 8:30 you decide to send him your last message of the evening because you know that by the time he gets off stage you’ll be on the plane.
Hope your first show back goes amazing, can’t wait to watch all the videos x
Matty’s heart goes all mushy reading that and he doesn’t hesitate for a second to reply.
Thank you baby, have a safe flight xx
Please let me know when you’ve arrived safe xxx
And before you knew it you were on the way to LA.
~*~*~*~
When you land in LA after your 11 hour flight, it was around 1am on the 9th. In normal circumstances, this would be fine and you would be off to sleep easily when you got to your hotel by 2am. But no, you slept for 6 hours on the plane so you weren’t even tired when you got in bed.
So it was at that point you went on Twitter and devoured the content from Matty’s first show back on the road. Nothing about it disappointed and it all made you so excited for the London shows in a few days time.
After you caught up on the previous night's events, Matty must have woken up because he texted you back (you messaged him when you landed to tell him you made it safely) and that sparked a conversation. He told you how amazing the show was and how he wished you were there to see some of the stuff he witnessed.
The conversation moves back to your flight over and he wasn’t surprised at all to hear you slept for a while on the plane. And then he realises that it’s almost 5:30 for you and he forces you off the phone to try and get some more sleep.
It’s something which you reluctantly agreed to, and it was a pointless exercise for a few hours because you just ended up reading the book that you bought in dutyfree that you hoped to read on the plane but only managed a chapter. That being said, you did manage to get another hour or so of sleep around 8am, but you were woken up by Amelia at 9am for you both to go down to breakfast and to start your busy day.
Despite your lack of sleep, you and Amelia headed out to spend your only free day sightseeing. You’ve never been to LA before so you were cramming everything tourist wise in you could think of.
You went and found your favourite people on the walk of fame, before heading into the illusion museum where you both took some hilarious pictures. It made you feel like you were teenagers pissing about again on a day off school, it was so much fun.
Next you went to all the landmarks but thankfully you did this on a tour bus so you weren’t wandering around aimlessly for hours. You had the best time pointing things out from various films you'd seen over the years, it got you all giddy, you felt like a child being given free sweets.
A mistake on your and your best friends' part would be that you went and did the long walk up to the Hollywood sign at the hottest hour of the day. The climate in this part of the world is fucking weird when you’re used to constant dreary weather, and you also realised you’re not as fit as you think you are because your muscles burnt once you were finished. That being said, your and Amelia’s pictures with the sign in the background made it totally worth it.
It was your favourite picture that you took all day. The both of you looked so happy in it and your spirits are so high as it really feels like all of your dreams are coming true. You don’t think you’ve ever been so content in your life, and it really shows in your smile. The first thing you did when you got back to a place with signal was send it to Matty.
Speaking of, Matty’s been texting you most of the day and every time your phone went off and caught a glimpse of his name you felt your cheeks heat up a little as a smile took over your face. It seems like a conditioned reaction for you now, even when he’s not flirting, seeing his name light up your phone just makes you happy. All other notifications seem pretty dull in comparison.
Amelia noticed quite a few times in the day and whilst it warmed her heart to see you happy, there was that feeling bubbling inside her that wanted to protect you from things that could be too good to be true. Yes, you and Matty have a lot of chemistry and you seem to get on like a house on fire. But the last thing she wants is for you to get hurt, so she decides that she needs to talk to you about it.
But when she does that evening, she blindsides you with it.
Currently, you’re in Amelia’s hotel room with her beside you in bed and you’re watching a film. It’s no surprise that your eyes are growing heavy now though as you’ve only had 7 hours sleep in the past 48 hours, and you’ve been awake close to 30 hours and doing a lot in your day.
Crashing feels like an understatement but you’re here beside Amelia now as the both of you are trying to keep each other awake so you’re not horrendously jetlagged for your rehearsal day tomorrow or for the awards themselves the night after. Thankfully she’s been good at keeping you awake but nothing will prepare you for the wake up call she’s about to drop on you.
Your eyes close and it’s like your emotions heighten as you get lost in the feeling of your current situation. You’re in Hollywood with your best friend, about to be a host at the red carpet of one of the most prestigious award events, you’ve just had the best room service food you’ve ever had, laying in a cosy and soft bed as the closing credits score to one of your favourite films is playing in the background.
Nothing could ever top this is all you can think, even everything back home seems to be going wonderfully and you’re about to look for some wood to touch so you don’t jinx it for yourself when you hear Amelia’s soft voice call out to you.
“Hey Y/N/N.”
You hum at first but it turns into a, “Yeah?” and you open your eyes slowly with a blissed look on your face as you turn to look at her.
At first you’re thankful she woke you again because it’s only early still, you definitely needed to not fall asleep just yet. But when you see your best friend turn to face you too, tucking her hand under her cheek to get comfortable over the plush pillows on her bed, you realise she wants to chat.
Amelia sighs softly and her face gets serious, and if that wasn’t enough to scare you a bit, it’s the way her tone changes as she starts saying, “I know you don’t want to hear it and I don’t mean it in the way it’s going to sound but if I don’t say it and you get hurt, I won’t forgive myself.”
Instantly, all the joy in your system disappears, dread seeping in for whatever it is she’s about to say. There’s nothing you’re actually expecting but the weight at the pit of your stomach is getting heavier the more time she takes to continue, “What is it Ames?”
“I know you’re having a lot of fun with Matty and I'm really happy for you.” You almost tune out at the mention of his name, but seeing how serious she is you know it’s another one of those times you need to listen to her, “I truly, honestly am.” She reassures with a slight raise of her eyebrows and a nod as if to emphasise her point.
Yet you’re left waiting for the inevitable but, and sure enough, it comes after a fair few seconds, “But I just want you to be careful… I don’t want you to get feelings, or more feelings, when it could just end up being a friends with benefits thing.”
You’re truly at a loss for words as the wheel inside your brain starts to spin and the more seconds pass, the faster it spins.
Amelia has been your best friend for years and whilst she’s had your back unconditionally for what seems like forever now, she’s also always been honest with you. Whether it was you making a stupid mistake that you were too stubborn to admit fault to, an outfit that just didn’t look good, pushing you to say sorry when you had to or you pining over someone who didn’t deserve you at all. She’s always been the one to say it like it was and kindly enough to have you snap out of so many trances.
Never have you ever gotten angry at her, because you’ve learned that she always wants the best for you and even when the truth hurts, at the end of the day you realised she was right and she was watching out for you.
So the first thing you feel deep in your chest isn’t anger, it’s just that pinch of hurt when you know someone says what you don’t want to hear but it’s not something that’s necessarily wrong. But that doesn’t make it any less painful to hear.
“I'm not saying stop,” She continues in slight panic at the change in your facial expression, “I can see how happy he makes you and how happy you seem to make him. And I don’t think he would have had you around for a full week if he was just going to fuck and dump you, but maybe when you go back you could get some clarity on it? Ask him about it maybe? Because the last thing I want is for him to hurt you.”
Her suggestions are thrown in the air as a way to alleviate the growing tension around you now, hanging over you like a dark cloud that tells you it’s about to storm. But even seeing her soft awkward grin as she finishes her thoughts, you can’t seem to properly muster any logical sentences.
Your words get tangled on the tip of your tongue and you stutter for a few seconds before you let out a loud sigh and chuckle meekly, slightly shaking your head in disbelief, “Thanks Ames.”
Amelia winces at your response and the words leave her before you can continue saying anything else, “I don’t want you to hate me for saying it, Y/N/N.”
You know she doesn’t mean it like that so you quickly reassure her that your reaction doesn’t mean that you hate her for saying it, “I don’t. I-,”
Inhaling deeply through your nose before you can give her a deeper insight into what’s been going on between the singer and you. “He’s told me things that I don’t think you’d tell a fuck buddy. Things about his past that he got upset about. I don’t think you cry to your fuck buddies Ames.”
It’s not that you mind her being worried about you, but it wasn’t as if Matty is all you’ve been going on about today. It wasn’t like your world has just stopped and it now solely focuses on him, because it really doesn’t. You’ve maybe mentioned the singer a handful of times today, most of the time telling her that he said hello to her or that he hoped that the both of you were having a nice time.
Nodding slowly, she takes in what you're saying but she recoils into herself a bit when you continue to say, “And I'm not stupid, I'm not getting my hopes up for anything more just yet, I just want to enjoy what it is for now.”
Because Amelia of all people knows that you haven't had anything like this in a long time. You’ve been on your own for probably too long and you feel like some of the joy from the past week has just been invalidated when you weren’t even trying to make it into something it wasn’t.
“I understand. But it’s worth having the conversation.” Amelia explains herself again and you nod taking in every word she says, “I don’t want you to be a placeholder for him. I don’t want you to be someone who’s willing to fuck him and then he fucks you off after the London dates on his tour.”
That has you sighing again, that last half feeling like a gut punch. But you somehow manage to nod, “I know, and I do mean the thank you I said, but I don’t wanna be thinking about that whilst we’re out here okay?”
You were just having such a lovely moment of peace and appreciation for everything turning out better than you could’ve ever expected and now all you can taste is bitterness coating the back of your throat. “It’s not really something you can ask over the phone. And I want this to be a good experience. I don’t wanna be worrying about Matty whilst I’m out here.”
You mean that and even though you have been texting him here and there throughout the day, you’ve made sure to be mindful and enjoy every second you can with your best friend in this amazing opportunity you’ve got.
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t really know when to talk to you about it.” Her eyes show you just how much she didn’t mean to upset you, and they soften when she looks at you still sporting a blank face.
And despite knowing that, it unfortunately doesn’t make that sinking feeling in your chest go away. You feel like the mere mention of it has cracked open a can of worms that can’t be sealed again. The seeds of doubt that you’ve been ignoring to spare yourself the worry are now fixed and prominent. It all feels a little too much when you just wanted to have some fun with a man you’ve always found horrendously attractive.
“I’m only a week into it all Ames.” You remind her and then you also refresh her memories of her and a certain rapper by saying, “I at least gave you a good few weeks with Harry before I told you to watch out.”
She nods remembering then how that had gone, “And whilst I love you for that, I know that you’ve liked Matty for a lot longer than I liked him. A year to a decade… I just don’t want him to hurt you or ruin his music for you.”
She’s so serious it half makes you want to laugh, your best friend regarding the value of the band’s music as much as your heart being mistreated is the tiniest bit amusing to you.
“It won’t. Nothing could ruin his music for me. Not even him.” You promise, staring right into her eyes and then you plead, “I understand but for now I just want it out of my mind please. I appreciate you but please don’t bring this back up whilst we’re here. I want your support back.”
Reaching out for her hand, she meets you in the middle intertwining your fingers and then giving you a firm squeeze. A silent love you, one that you reciprocate by squeezing her hand back.
“Okay. You’ve got it. I am really really happy you’re happy, you know?” Her lips curl up in a cute shy smile, seeing as the matter is still a bit tender but trying to help you relax again.
Not that you can find it in yourself to do it after that but you try to match her smile, failing apparently because you see Amelia’s face falling as she watches you say, “I know.”
So Amelia is soon shuffling closer to you, cradling your head with her hand so you can cuddle against her chest. She leaves a kiss atop of your head and you hum softly as a thank you, which you truly mean - she’s the one person you know you wouldn’t be able to live without and her opinions are not ones you wave off or take lightly.
However, it feels like the night just turned sour, because 5 minutes ago if your best friend cuddled you like she is doing now, you would be entirely content with it. Now, all you want to do is disappear off into your own room and release the sob that’s causing the ball in your throat.
You can’t do that though, because the last thing you need is to let your best friend see that she’s upset you. The first reason being is that you don’t want to make her feel guilty for upsetting you when she’s got your best interests at heart, but mostly because you don’t want her to think that your tears are proof of her being correct. So you hold it in, not letting her think she’s affected you at all.
Sleep has escaped you now entirely, the few minutes of her cuddling you are not peaceful like she probably intended. Instead, you’ve started to overthink what she’s just said, her words repeating in your head like a broken record. It makes your throat tighten even more despite knowing she’s right, but you hate the sour taste in your mouth.
There’s only so long you can last before you get up and go to your room under the false pretence that you’re really tired. Amelia hugs you one more time and again you pretend like you’re fine, but your best friend knows you well enough and can see you’re faking. She regrets bringing it up before the awards, thinking it’s not fair to have added that to your plate along with the stress you’re both feeling.
All she can do so she doesn’t bring it up again is grab your hand and remind you that she loves you. Something which you say back to her and she’s beyond grateful you said it back.
Finding yourself back in bed, now in your hotel room, unfortunately your mind goes back to your conversation and begins replaying every word she’s said.
Like a broken record, spinning over and over, until you lose track of time and when your phone pings from where it’s charging on top of the nightstand, you softly gasp at it being 7pm when the last time you saw the time it was 4pm and you and Amelia were complaining about jetlag betraying you and making you look like even worse grandmas that you already were.
When you get your phone, you see Matty’s messages flash on the screen. Another one coming through as you unlock your phone.
How’s jetlag treating you baby? x is the first one he’s sent, followed by, You better not be asleep yet cos I will laugh if you are, you gilf x
You giggle to yourself at the use of the term, thinking back to how the term came to be used for you and how insane it is that the week of holidays you spent texting and facetime feels so long ago now.
Deciding to be fully honest and give into the distraction from your thoughts, you type, It’s kicking my arse 🙁 and as soon that has sent, you send a second text that reads, How’d you even do it? Tour must be so exhausting x
You get used to it x reads the almost instant text he sends but then you’re waiting for what he’s gonna say next as the bubble appears and you’re watching the three dots flicker with anticipation.
A few seconds later it comes through and you’re giggling when you read, You learn to find how to keep yourself distracted more like, to forget you’re tired in the first place x
Cheekily, you ask, Is that code for something? x and to tease him a bit, you add, If so I have to add it to the list under ‘socialising’ as Ross gave us the meaning to that one x
A chesty laugh falls from your lips when his next text comes through and it plainly says, Let’s actually ban the topic of Ross from conversation x
And it’s impossible for you to hold back from using that to provoke him a bit, Ooo is someone jealous? x
His answer isn’t quite what you expected and it earns a gasp out of you when you read he’s said, You, still, of that kiss I gave him x and the memory of you posting that to your instagram comes to bite you on the arse.
The only thing you can think of replying is with a sarcastic, You think you’re funny x
Which he refutes effortlessly with, I know I’m fucking hilarious baby x
Biting your lip and feeling your cheeks heat up, your fingers type an earnest confession that you hope he reciprocates, I miss you xx
But your blood goes cold when his response comes through and it’s just, Oh you miss me? Yeah well, you haven’t had anyone to fuck you good all week so I was expecting that x
Reading that text sinks your heart, and it shouldn’t because you know in any other moment you would’ve found it hilarious and chatted back almost automatically but after having Amelia’s words engraved in the walls of your brain after replaying them so much, you’re left with the awful feeling that she might be right.
You try not to cry when you’re unable to stop yourself from overthinking. Oh you miss me? Yeah well, you haven’t had anyone to fuck you good all week so I was expecting that x. You had just said you missed him and that being the response leaves you gutted.
What if that’s actually all that it is for him? What if everything had just been to ease you into bed with him and now that he had you in the palm of his hand, he was reaching out to you to get some sort of release?
After all it was 3am for him, which other reason would there be for him to be texting this late when he should’ve been tired enough to be out the second he got in his bunk. The ghost of the conversation about his nightmares pokes at your racing mind and whilst your logical side is screaming at you about that being a reason for his texts this late in the evening, you’re far too gone to even try and change your mind.
You’re so stupid. And all you want to do is cry into your pillow.
But you still have got makeup on and, if it was any other day, you’d let the sadness push you to fall asleep with it on but tomorrow you start prepping for the bloody Golden Globes. Rehearsals start early in the morning, and the last thing you want the day after when you’re on the red carpet is a surprise spot appearing on your skin when you’re about to be photographed left, right and centre.
Your feet lazily take you up to the bathroom and you’re languidly getting a makeup wipe when your ringtone startles you. You’re slightly faster in getting your phone because the noise is threatening to push you further into getting a headache.
And then you see it, Matty on the screen, wanting to facetime you and there’s that sinking feeling getting heavier inside you. You know you’ve left him on read, and it’s now that you realise that was half an hour ago and you feel bad.
You consider not answering, blaming it on falling asleep but deep inside you want some sort of comfort, a sign of an answer that maybe Amelia is wrong - that maybe this time she has misread the situation.
So you swipe on your screen as you go back to the bathroom, taking the makeup off your face and looking at your reflection in the mirror rather than at him on your phone.
“Hi baby.” Matty says with a smile, you can catch it faintly from the way the brightness of his screen is lighting up his face.
“Hi.” You reply sheepishly, and that tone is enough for him to know something’s not right.
“What’s wrong?” He asks with a pout, then he backtracks trying to think of what’s gotten you upset and he quickly adds, “You know I was joking right?” He’s silently hoping that isn’t it though, the last thing he wanted was to get you upset but he knows how sometimes jokes don’t land right through text.
You panic as though he’s just been able to read your mind and your mouth is faster than you spilling something else out so he doesn’t think it is exactly that which has you like this. Well that and Amelia’s worries. So putting the now used makeup wipe down by the sink, you shake your head.
“It’s not-” You try to deny but everything is sitting heavy on your chest and your eyes begin to well up on their own accord.
You still can’t look at your phone and you think you’re even more pathetic about letting this get to you. And you know it’s only affecting you so much because you’ve been awake well over 24 hours to try and get your body clock in order for tomorrow, but it’s completely taken away your composure. So you just end up blaming everything on that.
“I- I’m so nervous and overwhelmed, and this jetlag is actually making me want to fucking cry.” At the end you actually let out a pathetic little sob which breaks his heart, you’re holding onto the marble top where the sink is and hang your head so your hair covers your face while you silently cry.
“Oh no babyyy,” You hear him say through the phone, perhaps a bit louder than he should in a bus filled with his sleeping bandmates, “You should’ve said you were upset, I wouldn’t have been an absolute dick then.”
You shake your head and sniffle but when you’re about to put your head up to look at him on the screen, another cry bursts through you and you let your head fall down once more.
“Baby don’t cry, I’m sorry.” His heart hurts in his chest, “Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”
He could feel something was wrong as soon as his message went from sent to read and there was no sign of the three dots. Somehow he just knew and the sinking feeling in his stomach made him FaceTime you, and now he's beyond thankful he did.
“No,” You sniffle loudly and force yourself to look up.
Your throat is so choked up, it’s difficult to get anything out at all. You have to look away from him for a second and you cover your mouth with your fist for a few seconds.
Matty’s heart hurts seeing the shine of your eyes as they well up again, and he wants to say something but you look like you need to work through it for a second so he waits until you’ve taken a few deep breaths and look back at him. “Can you podcast me baby… Please?” You just about get out.
You wipe your tears quickly and you look at him, giving him a soft smile and getting a new wipe to continue taking your makeup off. After swallowing the lump in your throat, you say, “Tell me how the show was tonight.”
Matty makes sure to be the most dramatic to get a smile out of you, even a laugh if he’s lucky enough, “Well obviously brilliant ‘cause it’s us.” He rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue, shaking his head a bit and his curls bounce at the movement.
Your short snort makes him grin harder, and you reply with a blunt, “Right.” as if you don’t believe that statement.
He lets his jaw fall like he’s deeply offended and then points an accusing finger at you as he calls you out by saying, “Don’t act like you don’t agree baby, you’ve been here for almost a decade and that means something.”
You finish removing your makeup then, so you raise your hands up to feign innocence, “I was agreeing.”
The curly headed brunette narrows his eyes at you and keeps quiet for a mere few seconds, acting like he’s debating whether he believes you or not, until he decides, “Good, because I also wore leather tonight in your honour.”
A little smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, “Ooooo” you mutter teasingly while you try to picture in your head what exactly he’s worn tonight. You curse yourself for being in your head so much and forgetting to check twitter for your daily dose of tour content.
Before you can say anything else, though, he adds, “Because I miss you. A lot.” and you didn’t know how much you wanted to hear that until then.
It’s like the simple reassurance that he indeed does miss you too, quiets down the storm in your head. You can breathe a little better, all the while you can also feel your heart swell up inside your chest and you can’t not reciprocate the feeling, “Miss you too.”
The singer pouts at the fact that he has to tell you this through the phone and can’t give you a cuddle so he gets an idea that makes him inquire, “Where’s Amelia? I want her to hug you for me.”
That question shouldn’t be something to bring up suspicion but Matty doesn’t miss the way your face falls at the mention of your best friend and right then he gets this gut feeling that maybe something happened between you two that also has you upset.
Somehow, your awkward, “Erm, she’s in her room.” gives it away even more and though he wants nothing more than to ask you about it, he’d rather not have you upset and crying again when he knows you can be laughing and smiling when talking about something else.
So taking a bit of a pause, he thinks and ends up asking you, “Have you gone to see the Hollywood sign yet?”
You go off frame as you go to throw the makeup wipes to the bin and then splash your face with some water to wash your face. “Yes, a fucking awful hike but t’was pretty.” Is what you reply, remembering just how much you were sweating earlier but also shivering a bit at the stark contrast when you went back to the car.
Matty watches as you pour something in the palm of your hand and rub it together between your hands before rubbing it on your face until it becomes foamy. “It isn’t hot though is it?” It’s just the second week of January and he has a faint memory of being in the west coast during that time of the year and it not being hot at all, “At least you weren’t fucking cooking while going up there.”
You quickly wash the cleanser off and whilst you’re patting your face dry, you continue giving him the details, “Wind was cold but the sun was out so we were cooking in our jackets. The desert weather is confusing.”
“More confusing than ours?” His tone is almost teasing, making you smile a bit to yourself under his gaze.
“A bit yeah.” You nod, opening your little moisturiser tub and getting some to apply onto your face.
The second you dot it around your face and neck, he’s asking, “Is that the cream I like you’re putting on?”
The massive grin that appears on your face is impossible to hold back, not when the memories of you having to do the same you’re doing to yourself on him the whole past week when he watched you through the mirror getting ready for bed.
“Yeah. You’ve made me go through half my bottle already though, you little shit.” In slow soft motions, you’re rubbing it on your skin and you relish in the cooling feeling of the gel like cream on your face.
He clicks his tongue like that’s not even an issue, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll get you more when you come back.”
Humming, you warn him, “I’ll remind you of that.”
“Yeah ‘cause I’m in actual need to relax like when you put all those things on my face.” Matty admits and it makes you want to giggle.
A snort escapes your lips, “You mean when I do your skin care?”
“Mhm, I love it.”
Rolling your eyes, you call him out, “I know you do, you’re so needy.”
But he then reminds you, “I told you I was.” and you two share loopy grins through the screen as you see the memories of your first date showing in the forefront of your minds.
“That you did.” You nod, agreeing with him and tapping some eye cream over your eye bags. Covering your mouth when you yawn, you look at the time and ask him with a frown, “Isn’t it almost 4am for you?”
Matty pauses for a second, glancing up to see the time in the corner of his phone screen and is rather surprised, “Oh yeah, I guess so.” And trying to get you laughing again, he continues with, “Quick maths baby, that’s impressive.”
But the lack of sleep he’s currently having has you worried enough to inquire, “Is everything alright?” You don’t want to explicitly ask if he’s gotten any nightmares, especially since he’s sleeping in a moving vehicle but from the look in his eyes, you know he knows exactly what you mean by that.
His chest tightens at how cute you are so he calms your worries by explaining, “Yes, nothing’s wrong, just a bit of insomnia ‘cause I’m still feeling the energy from the gig.”
“Okay, if you say so.” Your trust that he’d tell you if he was having nightmares has faltered slightly after what was said earlier. You feel so stupid being hung up on it, but just the thought of opening up to each other only being so you could get something physical out of each other makes you start to spiral again.
You’re cut short, not even being able to lose it again when he continues saying, “Wish I could have you here though, I wanna cuddle you so badly.”
A bit apprehensive, you sigh, “Me too.” but then you can’t keep from being honest with him, “I’m too nervous about tomorrow, and that’s only rehearsals, I don’t know if I’m even gonna be able to sleep tomorrow night.”
“Baby you’re gonna do amazing.” He assures you with sweet conviction, “You and Amelia. You always do.”
Your insides flood with warmth and you try to ignore it so he can’t catch how flustered you are by the compliment. “You’re being nice.”
“No, I mean it. You learned all that information about everyone attending so easily, I don’t think I’ve known more about the current film and TV culture than now after you’ve told me everything you know when you were practising.”
You’re chuckling then, leave it to him to not keep up to date to the most current media to be consumed. Getting your phone and exiting the bathroom after turning off the lights, you leave your phone on the floor by your case while you look for your pyjamas, “You’re an old man. Absolute grandpa.” You rub it in like it’s gonna offend him but you should’ve expected the opposite.
“And you’re my gilf, remember?” You hear the smirk before you can see it, but you don’t give him the pleasure of a reply as you just start stripping down to your underwear and put on your cute pyjama set that consists of a button up shirt and some matching shorts.
“Those pyjamas are cute.” Matty compliments, catching the chicken nuggets and the little ketchup packets all over them.
“Right!” You reply all excited, taking the moment to appreciate the clothes again, “Our manager gave them to us for Christmas, has my name right here.” You show him the embroidered Y/N that rests over your left breast with a cute smile on your face.
He smiles right back, “That’s cute. You look better in my clothes though.” He quips back, and you’re about to taunt him by arguing the pyjamas are better than his shirts when he just sighs longingly and says, “You’re so stunning baby.”
You’d just set up your phone against the lamp on the nightstand so you can talk to him as you get in bed but you freeze in your spot, sitting on the edge of the bed, lips pressing together so a big smile doesn’t break on your face.
“Stop,” You warn and then cup your cheeks with your cold hands, “You’re making me flustered.”
Matty knows you’re flustered so he grins proudly at you and admits, “I know, that’s what I’m aiming for.”
“Well you’re not allowed.” You chat back like that’s enough of an argument against him.
Trying not to giggle, he asks, “Why?”
“Because no.” You reply through your teeth, avoiding much eye contact because you know that’ll get you even worse and you don’t need that now.
“Oh but why,” His grin is huge, “Look at that smile!”
He’s impossible not to react to, so you hide behind your hands and whine, “You’re so annoying.” a bit louder than you anticipated.
“Say that again.” He suggests with a smirk on his face, once again, one that you can hear before you see it.
Your hands fall from your face, your smile stuck on your face even when you try to act menacing as you narrow your eyes and says a quick, “Fuck you.”
You can never win, not when he chuckles and quips back with, “You wish you were.” and all you can do is shriek and tell him he’s insufferable again.
Both of you giggle until a comfortable silence falls between you and you end up silently smiling at one another. That is until you rub your eyes a little, getting tired once again, but Matty just needs to know, so he asks softly, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” You nod, giving him a small smile, “Everythings just-” You pause for a second not wanting to get emotional again, so you release a long breath and continue, “A lot.”
Matty sees your eyes get a little glossy again, but not nearly as fast as last time. So he quickly intervenes and tries to make you laugh.
“I can’t believe the first time you’re upset in front of me is when I'm over five thousand miles away from you.” Matty says loudly and dramatically, and he moves the camera closer so he can tell you off. “You’re not allowed to do that in future. If you’re upset you have to just come and cuddle me, yeah? No messing about, I just hug you until you start to feel better okay, like you did for me.”
Your chest aches at the mere thought. That is all you want right now. You don’t know how he could get any cuter.
Matty’s smile is huge when he promises, “I’ll do whatever you need.”
All you want to do is give him a hug, so you just curl up in bed and hug your pillow and prop him up against the lamp on the bedside table so you can still talk. Once you’re settled and you’re smiling at him, you say, “Should have brought my blanket with me so I can pretend I’ve got you cuddling me.”
Matty chuckles at that, loving seeing the smile on your face. He doesn’t hesitate to say, “If I wasn’t on tour I would have flown out with you.”
You almost snort at that despite the fact you know he’s being genuine and serious, you just elect to tease him, “Such a flirt with those big gestures of yours.”
“Well, you know me.” Matty chuckles, “I don’t do half-hearted.”
After that you make him go to his bunk and at least try to get some sleep. You end up whispering to each other as you watch the other slowly fall asleep. Thankfully you see Matty dose off first so there’s a content smile on your face as your eyes slowly close and you let sleep take you.
~*~*~*~*~*~
You wake up the next morning with a smile on your face. One entirely brought by your conversation with Matty having settled down your doubts, one that lasted all throughout the time you were getting ready to leave for rehearsals, breakfast and on the way to the venue.
When you hit the red carpet, nerves overcame you but joy filled every corner of your body along with the intense impostor syndrome that you were starting to get acquainted with. It all was eliciting a massive smile from you which hurt your cheekbones, you just couldn’t quite believe you were there. And Amelia was feeling just the same.
Rehearsals are almost done, you and Amelia had been there for hours by then and it was mental to see the various interviewers there with their respective crews rehearsing for the very next day. Your crew tells you you’re almost done, only having to go over the last bit which was basically the send off once you’d wrap your section up the next day, and after that you were good to go back to the hotel.
But before you can finish that up, the crew give you a five minute break whilst they figure out some things behind the scenes.
Once you two finally have a moment to finally breathe, that’s when your best friend comes up to you and brings back the chat you’d rather keep buried.
“Y/N/N, I’m sorry,” Amelia starts saying, lowering her microphone and cue cards until they’re pressed beside her thigh and the grin she had on her face is replaced by her furrowed brows and lips pressed together in sorrow when looking back, “About last night, I shouldn’t have said what I said. I know better than that and there’s only so much I know about what you have with Matty, and even though it seems-”
“Ames.” You cut her off before she can say more because your heart was already sinking and you felt yourself start going cold since you had no idea what to expect now. “Don’t. I know what you meant last night and I appreciate your concern, you know I do, but please let’s not do this right now.”
“But-,” Amelia tried to get her words out again but you wouldn’t budge.
“Not here Ames.” You pleaded once more, the last thing you wanted was to get upset in the middle of rehearsals and in front of the crew. Dryly adding, “We can do this back at the hotel, if you insist on continuing the conversation.”
Thankfully Amelia accepts your bargain, not wanting to have you upset again at the venue, so she just presses her lips together and nods.
“Right.” She agrees and coming closer to you, she throws her arm around your shoulder and hugs you into her side, “Love you, Y/N/N.”
You smile back, thankful for her understanding, leaning into her and reciprocating the feeling, “Love you too, Ames.”
After that, you had used the few minutes left of your rest to openly marvel about the whole thing to each other, pinching each other’s arms at the same time and exploding in giggles when you realised you really weren’t dreaming.
The rest of the rehearsal went smoothly and once you wrapped up, the crew congratulated you on a brilliant rehearsal and let you go.
As soon as you get to the hotel, you order room service and do a repeat of the previous night, watching a film as you eat but this time the film is completely forgotten because once you remember just how big the ceremony is, you two frantically look for you flash cards with information so you can go over it all to ensure you don’t fuck up the next day.
Thankfully, that had been why you both forgot to speak about your situation with Matty. So by the time you’re doing your skin care and getting ready to head to bed, texting Matty until he stopped replying because he definitely fell asleep, you have a massive grin on your face and your anticipation for the following day is doing nothing but bubble up your chest and make your stomach flutter.
~*~*~*~
The next morning was even more nerve-racking. You had taken longer having breakfast because the nerves weren’t helping with your ability to swallow your food without feeling like it could come right back up the next second.
But when your team got to the hotel and everyone was gathered in Amelia’s room to do a little speech of encouragement and congratulate everyone for such a big achievement, you and Amelia settled a bit.
You’re just coming out of taking a shower, being ushered by your manager who had just come back from hurrying Amelia up since she had taken a long time in the shower too, when you hear your phone ringing with what you know it’s a facetime call.
And it’s not hard to guess who it is.
The smirk on your manager’s face is enough for you to know you guessed right and when she hands you your phone, you answer Matty’s call with a bright smile.
“Hiya baby.” He greets loudly, making everyone in the room turn to look at you with a teasing smirk.
That detail being unbeknownst to him has him thinking that you’re blushing over his mere use of the pet name so he playfully calls you out by saying, “Blushing already? I haven’t even said anything yet, baby.”
Before he can even think of opening his mouth again, you’re calling out loud, “Right, someone get me my airpods please.”
Once he heard that, he realised what had happened and the situation only elicited a loud cackle from him. He found out after New Years that he enjoyed a lot when you got flustered at the things he’d say in public, your bright red cheeks making you seem all innocent as if you wouldn’t love to hear the things he said in private, as if you wouldn’t reply with something even worse.
It gets worse for you when he cheekily adds, “Please do get her AirPods, things are about to get raunchy.”
“Shut up!” You hiss through your teeth, making everyone in the room laugh at your embarrassed state. And when your stylist finally finds your airpods inside your bag and hands them to you, you thank her almost impatiently.
Clearing your throat, you put your airpods in your ears and only then is that you greet him back, “Hello, you menace.”
“Oh, please, you love me.” He quips back, rolling his eyes as he brushes his hair back and you’re so beyond happy to see his curls free of any product.
Still, you don’t let it show as you sigh and give him a meek, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” in response.
“You’re in denial baby,” He tuts, clicking his tongue as he shakes his head but he doesn’t let you say anything back because then he lets his sweet smile back on his face and he genuinely asks, “How’s your morning going?”
“I’m shitting bricks.” You admit quite honestly, stifling a laugh by biting your bottom lip.
Matty actually lets his amusement show with another loud string of giggles, the sound hitting your ears warm you up inside and has your chest feeling tight from how much you miss him.
“You’re gonna do amazing, baby. Nothing to be nervous about.”
His tone is so nonchalant, it has you scoffing. You know it is because he has faith in you and how good you are at your job, but you decide joking about it rather than accepting the compliment will help you a bit more.
So you reply with, “Of course you’d say that, nepo baby. That’s your crowd.”
“Oi!” He calls out by pointing a finger at you through the screen but eventually lets his expression change from scornful to smug, “You’re just jealous.”
You’re so glad your makeup artist decides to come up to you and start your skin prep then because, as she delicately rubs a moisturiser on your skin, you can look even more unbothered when you reply, “Sure I am.”
You fall silent as you’re getting pampered, your eyes closing involuntarily at the soft touches on your face, but Matty stays silent too, just fully admiring the view of your pretty and relaxed face.
He breaks the silence when a sweet, “Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” falls from his lips, making a big grin tug at the corner of your lips and you let your eyes open again to see your screen, only to find him staring at you with the most adoring look on his face.
“Thank you baby.” You reply wholeheartedly, making his heart rate stutter when you use the pet name on him.
Rather impatiently, he asks right away, “Can I see your dress yet?”
“Not yet.” You had purposely kept that to yourself, fully wanting his anticipation for it to build up for as long as it could. “Patience is a virtue.”
“It’s overrated.” Matty counters your words with his eyebrows raised and a look of defiance as if he’s challenging you to show him the dress. But you shake your head and all he does is sigh and change his question to, “Am I getting pictures?”
Yet, you aren’t giving in that easily, not when you can taunt him a bit more. “If I’m feeling generous…”
Something inside him ignites and how he wishes he could have you next to him in that very moment so he could kiss you until you break. “You better.”
“Or what?” You push further, biting your bottom lip withholding a smirk that wants to break on your face.
But it seems the singer has got no taste for explicitness any more, for he just shakes his head at you for being trouble and settles for saying, “You’ll see when you come back.”
You let your voice drop a little, mischief making your eyes gleam as you look at him, “Is that a threat or a promise?”
Matty smirks at your advances and lets you have this moment, winking at you when he says, “Whichever you want it to be, baby.” That spark you ignite within him comes alive and makes him desperate to have you back, so he asks somewhat breathlessly, “When’s your flight leaving?”
You have a think about your tight schedule for the day and recall, “10pm tonight so I should be at Heathrow by 5pm tomorrow.”
That sounds like the most amazing news to him and he shows you a massive grin when he realises you’re arriving, “Right after soundcheck…” meaning he can go get you.
You’re only teasing when you say, “Are you coming to pick me up?” Silently wishing he does though, because if there’s anything you’re dying to do once you get back home is hugging him again.
“‘Course I am, baby.” He clicks his tongue like he can’t believe you’re asking him about that, “D’you really think I won’t want you beside me the second we’re in the same city?”
You have to press your lips together not to show just how fucking happy his words make you, you cheeks heating up slightly and a squeaky, “Aren’t you cute!” escapes your lips.
But Matty seems too smug when he hears that and agrees with a quick, “I know, I know.”
So you snort to yourself and playfully roll your eyes, “It’s gonna be an issue with everything getting to your head.”
“Is it? Thought you loved it. It’s always been me, you wouldn’t be here now if you didn’t love it.” He loves calling you out on how long you’ve been a fan when you try to act like he’s being annoying, because there’s really nothing you can argue back with.
With a sigh, you state, “See, I’m not answering that in the slightest because you’ll find a way to have it feed your ego.”
Playing with you, he scoffs and complains, “People will hear you and think I’m a narcissist.”
His faux offended state makes you giggled, “Where did all your self awareness go? You are one.”
“Am I?” His curls bounce in his head when he looks up and to the sides as if he’s thinking about it and somehow comes to the conclusion that, “Sometimes it’s a compliment you know.”
You roll your eyes again and chat back by calling him, “Okay Mr. Big Head.” but you’re so happy on the inside that you’ve got him like this on the phone again. It feels just like the first week of the year and all those times you’ve texted before. Everything Amelia said two days before has been swept right out of your brain and you’re so fucking grateful.
You’re brought back to reality when you hear him cheekily say, “You’ve never once complained about my big head.” And with an even more suggestive tone, he adds, “Think you actually quite enjoy it, baby.”
Jaw dropped, you gasp and whisper-shout, “Shush!” at him.
Which elicits uncontrollable giggles from him that have you almost breaking and laughing along with him, “What?!” He says aloud like he’s not just said what he has said, “You’ve got your airpods in!”
And even though he’s right, you don’t let him be and scorn him, “Still!”
“Oh come on baby,” He calls your bluff act out, “I know you’re dying to say something back to that. I can see it in your face.”
Before you can even think of a response, you’re having two gold patches pressed over your under eyes as another step on your skin prep and Matty is suddenly envious of the pampering.
He also is reminiscing of you doing his skin care and he misses your touch on his skin, however innocent it could be. Like a little kid asking for a new toy, he gasps and demands, “I want those!”
And you have his jaw falling agape when you glance at him and nod, “You need them. Look at those eyebags.”
He’s fully offended, his jaw fallen and eyes empty as he can’t believe you’ve just said that, and the visual makes you laugh so hard that your patches are falling off your face so you cackles turn into a noise of subtle panic which has your makeup artist turning and scorn you for not staying still.
“S’not my fault! He’s making me laugh!” You excused yourself in between chuckles and Matty laughed even harder in your ear, making your chuckles turn into cackles again and the patches to fall down again.
You manage to catch one of the patches on the palm of your free hand, the other one hitting your thigh which was covered by your white robe.
And once again you get scorned, for which you pout trying to put the blame on Matty. That somehow ends with you being convinced to put him on speaker and you swear you have never had a funnier day getting ready for a massive event in your life.
The whole time, everyone has been laughing at Matty’s and your antics, multiple times your makeup artist has had to stop herself from starting the next step in your eye makeup because of how hard she was laughing and she was trying not to fuck up.
Eventually, when you’re miraculously ready to go and they’re waiting for you to head downstairs to leave for the red carpet, you have to say goodbye to your curly headed boy who wishes you the best of luck and admits out loud just how excited he is to have you back beside him.
You smile so hard looking at your phone and saying you feel just the same, blowing him a kiss and giving him a quick wave you hang up and when you lift your head up is that you realise the whole thing has been recorded.
“Oh right, we were filming a get ready with me.” You bite your bottom lip as your cheeks heat up and you pray at least Amelia got proper footage because you were excited to edit and post that as soon as you could.
Your manager laughs, handing you the camera so you can film yourself walking out but she shrugs, “T’was cute.”
You’re so glad you’re quickly ushered out of your room, your manager quickly following behind and there you meet Amelia to take pictures in the hallway.
That is when your nerves start hitting again, making your hands shake as you hold each other and pose for the camera. You both are mumbling pure gibberish, just trying to let it all out, doing a little Sharpay Evans looking at each other and mentally preparing yourselves for what is going to be a wonderful evening.
~*~*~*~
That red carpet had been an absolute dream.
You had managed to do the Wednesday dance with henry Winkler, have Guillermo del Toro rub your lucky egg, ask Anya Taylor-Joy and Daisy Edgar Jones for dating advice, find out Letitia Wright’s favourite tube line, meet Paul Dano, and witness Andrew flirting with Amelia like they were the only ones in the room.
Both of you are buzzing with energy by the time the carpet starts emptying out, everyone going inside the venue for it gets closer to the ceremony starting time, and you get even more of a rush when you remember this means you’re closer to setting off for the airport so you can go back to London.
You’re practically counting down the minutes when security starts letting the people into the area to start cleaning up, your gaze going over every member of the crew looking for a sign of them finally calling it up as wrapped, and this all doesn’t go unnoticed by your best friend.
Amelia knows exactly why you’re so happy and it warms her heart. After experiencing this together, seeing you doing good in other areas of your life is just what she wants but there’s that nagging feeling in the back of her head that tells her she needs to let her thoughts out before it’s too late and the damage is done.
Now, she is praying that not a single thing goes wrong and that this is where everything starts making sense for you, but she’d hate it if she let you go without advising you to be careful one last time.
So she waits a little, after you’re both congratulated and thanked by the crew for doing such a great job, so when you’re off with your manager and waiting to get picked up, Amelia grabs you by your hand and makes you turn to her.
“Y/N,” She starts with a tone of her voice that has you just knowing exactly what this is so you clearly tense up in front of her. “We didn’t really have the time to continue speaking about it yesterday but I wanted to tell you just before you leave: please be careful.”
Before you are even able to tell her that you know, she continues with a worried face, “I know this is going good for you, and god do I really want this to work out for you but please, talk about it with him. Don’t let it pass any longer because that’ll only make it worse if something happens.”
Your brows furrow and you purse your lips trying to fight the upsetting feeling rising up your throat. You haven’t got a clue about what to say back, your thoughts now going back to your situation and turning everything to look for bad things about it and you hate that you do.
Just because you don’t want to show her how much her words have affected you again, you nod and squeeze her hand as a silent thank you, “I know and I will.” You say the calmest you can and just so she doesn’t get the chance to ask about it, you hug her and press a kiss on her cheek before saying, “I’ll text you when I land.”
The “Alright.” she gives you as a response is faint as it reaches your ears in between the loud noise of the city, and you’re so grateful that the cab taking you arrives right as you are handed your suitcase, your bag and another bag with clothes for you to change into in the backseat of the car.
You turn back and wave Amelia goodbye, feeling your heart get heavier when you see her face and all you can hear is her words on an excruciating loop that feels like daggers to your chest.
Once you get your case in the boot of the car and you go inside it rather hastily, you change into a pair of jeans and a shirt, throwing your precious Drive Like I Do hoodie on top and putting your gown inside the bag it had come in, your manager helping you delicately store it inside it and promising to give it back to your stylist once she gets back to the hotel after dropping you off at the airport.
You knew you were going to cut it really close with how much of a short time you had between leaving the red carpet and going to the airport, so you’re finally breathing in relief when you get to your gate only ten minutes before you start boarding.
But once your mind is free from the stress of making it in time to catch your flight, all you can seem to focus on is every word that Amelia has said about you and Matty.
And unfortunately, you overthink every sentence she uttered for the first few hours of your flight. Fully giving into your insecurities has you spiralling so much that you end up falling asleep for a max of 3 hours, only waking up when the flight attendant gently taps your shoulder to ask you which meal they had for breakfast you’d like to choose.
And after that you just can’t go back to sleep. You’re left wondering which is the best way to bring the conversation up or if you even should, scared of completely ruining things by seeming too intense about it but also, deep down, wanting to know the answer yourself.
Sighing, you go on your camera roll and pray time goes faster as you edit your pictures and prepare drafts about the Golden Globes to post on your social media as soon as you land.
~*~*~*~
Getting off the plane and being back on home soil makes you feel so much better.
It’s like seeing the gloomy weather again and the cars having the steering wheels on the correct side engulf you in a hug and the familiarity of it all settles helps the weight on your chest feel a little lighter.
As soon as you landed you texted Matty telling him you just landed and that you’d be out as soon as possible. He replied not two minutes later telling you not to rush and that he would see you at the arrivals door.
God must be looking out for you when you get off the plane because you get through security without a hitch and your suitcase is one of the first 50 to come out. You’ve never been so excited to get off a plane and back home. Usually you’re mourning your holiday but now there’s nothing more that you want to do than to get to the O2 to see the gig you’ve been waiting months for.
Walking out into the room of people waiting to pick up their loved ones, and you think it would be difficult to spot Matty but he’s sticking out like a sore thumb, and you adore him for it. He’s standing there in his jeans and Chicken Shop Date hoodie with sunglasses on a white and green cap on his head.
But when he catches sight of you, he takes your breath away when he holds up a handmade sign with ‘Baby’ written on it with a small heart next to it. He’s grinning like you’re delivering him a birthday present, and you really hold yourself back from running towards him.
You walk straight towards him, and immediately you’re brought into quite possibly the best hug you’ve ever received.
“Hi Baby.” Matty whispers in your ear after he hugs you into him tightly.
You’re been held with such a strong hold that you think Matty must believe you’ll disappear if he lets you the tiniest bit loose. But you’re not complaining, you absolutely love it.
“Hi.” You whisper back, and you feel like you could cry.
You’re sure you’ve never been held so tightly and after everything going around your head over the last few days it feels so nice for it all to go quiet and you focus on him. Being back in his arms feels heavenly, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so content hugging someone, so much that it makes your eyes well up a little.
Your heart skips a beat when he tells you, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” You say back, without any hesitation, but it comes out a little bit hoarse as the ball in your throat persists.
This makes Matty abandon his disguise though, he releases you from the hug, keeping close though, but he takes off his hat and sunglasses. Immediately his eyebrows are furrowed and he needs to make sure, “You okay?”
However, he can see that your eyes are a little glazed over. Not to mention you look really tired, but he still thinks you look just as gorgeous as you did last night, even if you are just in your jeans and an oversized Drive Like I Do hoodie.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m just really jetlagged.” You nod, and Matty watches you, cupping your face as if he’s checking if you’re being honest or not. And you truly are so you smile, trying to convince him, “I’m fine, I promise.”
Matty thankfully believes you, and he gently strokes his thumb across your cheek as he tells you, “I’m so proud of you, baby.”
“Stop it,” You tell him, despite it really meaning a lot to hear. “I don’t want to get upset again.”
Matty chuckles at that but he looks straight into your eyes and repeats, “I really am though, you did amazing. I’m soproud of you.”
And you can’t stop yourself from leaning in to kiss him then, because you don’t have the words to express just how much that means to you without you breaking down. Jetlag messing with your sleep really has your emotions fucked, so you just pour everything you’re feeling into a kiss.
It feels like an age since your lips have been against his, and you certainly take your time to savour it now. It’s sweet, extremely sincere and the perfect way to round off your greeting back home. Matty can certainly feel you pouring your emotions into the kiss and he loves the way your arms loop around his neck to make sure he can’t escape from it.
Not that he wants to. He would die a happy man if he were to fall here and now. He has you back and that’s all he needs. He lets the kiss arrive at its natural ending and when you pull away the both of you are grinning like fools before Matty grabs your case and says, “Let’s go baby.”
You smile and follow him, not blaming him at all when he puts the cap and sunglasses back on because you understand that he doesn’t want to be recognised and mobbed when he has a show to get to. As soon as they are on he grabs your hand and you walk in step with each other as you head to his car.
It gives you a chance to take in his hat though and you’re sure it’s the Land Rover logo but with letters missing so it just says Lover. It makes you grin as it reminds you of one of your favourite songs and it turns out it's one of Matty’s too. What makes you giggle though is when you said you liked it because of that reason he took it off himself and put it on your head.
After that you thank Matty for coming to get you as you find his car and he assures you that it’s perfectly fine. And thankfully, the both of you make it back to London's best arena with plenty of time to spare.
Getting into the O2, Matty takes you straight to their green room where the rest of the band are and you greet them all with hugs and they congratulate you on last night's success. You thank them all and you love the hug that Charli gives you.
Here is where you meet Carly, and she’s just as wonderful as you expected her to be and really welcoming. And you really had to hold back your emotions when you were introduced to baby Hann by Uncle Matty. Seeing that man with a child is not something your brain can handle today so you were almost thankful when you were all interrupted by food being delivered.
It’s calm in there while you all eat, and you love that they are having a cheeky Nandos before they go out on stage. About half an hour later though, the room starts getting busier, people coming and going and you’re greeting a few new people you’ve not met before.
Matty has to leave the room for a few minutes, as he was called away by someone in the crew and he gave your thigh a quick squeeze before smiling, telling you he would be back soon. You’re left talking to Charli who is on the settee across from yours and you’re both giggling about how there’s definitely a connection between Amelia and Andrew Garfield before your attention is pulled back to the curly haired brunette.
“Hey baby?” Matty calls you from the door he’s just slipped back through.
You turn to look at him and smile, “Yeah?”
He looks all mischievous for some reason, as he’s grinning like a lunatic. But it makes sense when he explains, “I got you another date.”
“Okay…” You trail off, waiting for the grand reveal.
And to be perfectly honest, you’re expecting the fabulous Denise Welsh to walk through the door or the wonderful Tim Healy. But no.
Instead, Matty grins and pushes the door open all the way to reveal Taylor Swift standing in the doorway.
“Fuck off.” You gasp, your eyes instantly going wide and your hand comes up to almost shield your face. You don’t know why, but they do, and your now half shaking hands come up to cover your mouth as you watch Taylor walk further into the room giggling at your reaction. You bring your hands up to cover your whole face this time when the words slip from your lips again, “No, fuck off.”
At that, all you can do is let yourself fall into the back of the settee you’re on hoping it would swallow you whole. In your head, all that’s whirring around is, this isn't happening, this isn't real.
But it really is. And everyone in the room is laughing at how shocked you are. But it's George that chuckles, “I think you broke her, Matty.”
And he certainly has. The next thing you do is peek through your fingers to see she is still very much there now standing beside Matty, both of them grinning at you. But you tell the curly haired brunette, “You can’t just present Taylor Swift to me and expect me to be alright.”
Matty just laughs loudly before gesturing for you to, “Come here.”
And you do as you’re told. More adrenaline pumping through your system right now than you think the whole of last night.
Your hands are shaking a little, but nothing you clenching your fists can’t hide when you stop in front of Taylor and smile a shy, “Hi.”
Her grin is still bright, clearly used to absurd reactions like what you’ve just done. Her american accent rings out in her, “Hi.” and she smiles like you’ve not just made a massive tit of yourself.
“Y/N, Taylor.” Matty introduces you with a big grin looking from you to the singer, but then he goes on to say, “Taylor, this is Y/N, my…” But you watch his smile falter and he hesitates. A beat passes before he ends up saying, “Girlfriend.”
Hearing that should fill you with an insane amount of joy and happiness. But from the pause he did, it felt like it was almost bitter and he was reluctant to say the word out loud.
You’re aware that you havent talked about anything and that’s more than likely why he hesitated because you don’t just introduce someone to Taylor Swift as a fuck buddy. But that hesitation you saw brings back every single doubt that Amelia filled your mind with.
Swallowing that pill, you give your attention back to the popstar, not wanting a moment like this to be ruined at all by any relationship. You’re meeting Taylor fucking Swift, the last thing you need is to be worrying over a man.
You’re about to splurt out everything under the sun about how you’ve loved her music since you discovered her, and that she soundtracked your life before The 1975 took over. But you don’t get a chance to, instead you’re left shocked to your core.
“I love your dates, they are so damn funny.” Taylor grins, and you can see she genuinely means it.
This has you entirely gobsmacked though. You deadpan, “You know who I am?”
“Yes, of course I do.” Taylor nods with a toothy grin now, “I’ve seen so many of yours and Amelia’s dates, not to mention the golden globes last night, hello. You were amazing.”
You fully gasp, beyond yourself about being in her presence and her knowing who you are on top of that, “I can’t believe you know who I am.” You’re in complete disbelief, turning to glare at Matty for a second before your gaze is back on Taylor as if you looked away from her for too long, she’d disappear. “I’ve been listening to your music since I was sixteen, and you know who I am! What fucking world am I living in?”
Taylor’s eyebrows raise and her face shows amusement like this is the funniest thing she’s seen all day so you recoil into yourself with the feeling of your cheeks heating up, “Sorry, I'm so embarrassing,” You scorn yourself catching just how over the top your reaction must be before explaining, “The last however many days feel like a fever dream.”
She clicks her tongue, waving your apology off, “Don’t apologise, you’re fine.”
So in an attempt of making less of a fool of yourself, you try your hardest to get into your Date character when you say, “Anyway, when’s 1989 Taylor’s Verison?”
The shriek of laughter that leaves Taylor’s red lips has you feeling fuzzy inside. The next few minutes you’re just going on and on about her music and in return you get some random details and stories from her that you’d never think of finding out in your life.
Taylor had just asked you which songs you’d say are a must on the set list, and after the long response you gave her, you add, “You know I was so ready to plan a trip over to the States so I could go to your tour but Ticketmaster absolutely fucked me over and I’m still on the wait list.”
“Oh yeah, sorry, that was a horrible mess.” She cringes to herself and you feel so bad when she continues with a sorrowful tone in her voice, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“Of course! But you’re the Taylor Swift, it was to be expected.” You reply, matter-of-factly because you had been expecting it to be a hassle but not that much of a mess.
“Awh you’re too kind.” Taylor coos at you and reaches her hand out to give your forearm a soft squeeze before her hand comes back to her side and she sighs in forlorn, “I mean, I get that but also this new system… I really thought it would be so helpful to avoid scammers but it didn’t and on top of it all, it just made it so much worse didn’t it?”
“It really did.” You say honestly, with a soft pout. “And here I thought getting my Harry tickets had been hell enough.”
The pop star gives you a sad smile hearing that but she backtracks to what you said first, “So you still haven’t got tickets?”
You shake your head, “Unfortunately not.”
Being the absolute best, Taylor grins brightly at you and offers, “Well you’re so welcome to come over whenever you want once the tour starts.”
“Are you serious?” You can’t help your hand flying over your mouth in shock.
Taylor finds your reactions so adorable, she giggles before agreeing, “Absolutely! You can come with Matty, I’m sure he’d be down to go. Right?”
Up until that moment, Matty had stood watching you two interact and melting over how ecstatic you were to have one of your favourite artists in front of you. You were practically gleaming with happiness and that made him feel elated.
You had fully forgotten he was there, completely taken by the situation you were in and when you turned to see him as he said, “‘Course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” with a wink aimed at Taylor, you felt your stomach flip inside you.
You scorn yourself mentally, feeling so stupid to subconsciously react that way but Taylor playfully adds, “Plus, there’s nothing better than crashing one of your friend’s gigs is there?” with a smirk took you back to the moment you were in.
The three of you laugh, you know she’s clearly referring to herself and what she’s doing there but then Matty corrects her by saying she wasn’t crashing the gig, but making it even better, earning giggles from Taylor and a sweet thank you.
“So I’ll expect you sometime later this year.” Taylor says, looking at you expectantly.
And despite not knowing if attending with Matty would even be possible in the future, you still give her the biggest smile and the most heartfelt, “Thank you for that.”
“My pleasure, Y/N.” The blonde says and it feels like the end of the conversation so you turn to Matty in slight panic and he saves you by starting another conversation up.
Though this time, it feels more like they’re talking with each other and you’re just merely a spectator. Laughing when they laugh is all you get in, and watching them avidly exchange words has your insecurities rising back up. You thought your imposter syndrome couldn’t get any higher than it did last night but it certainly feels just as prominent again now.
In your head, they start to make sense the more minutes pass. They get each other in so many ways. They make music, they get what it’s like growing up famous, the aches of not having privacy, the torturous cycle of record, drop an album and tour, and repeat.
And as they go on and on, you find yourself comparing your life to Taylor’s and how you’ll never truly be able to understand what it’s like for him. You’re new to all of this in general, and you already feel imposter syndrome at all the events you're invited to, but this makes you feel like a fish out of water. Your mind jumps to the ultimate conclusion that Matty would be much better off with someone like her. Someone on his level, someone in his league.
You’re silently suffering every second that goes by and it gets harder to laugh at Matty’s jokes with the growing knot in your throat. So, trying your hardest to sound normal, you excuse yourself to go get yourself a drink and you barely wait for their responses when you’re off.
Water is what you stick to, not wanting to add alcohol into the whirlwind of emotions you’re currently feeling just in case it would worsen it up. And you definitely didn’t need that when it’s your supposed official first outing as Matty’s girlfriend.
You down a full cup of cold water like you’d been stuck in the desert for a whole week and you’re pouring yourself another one when you feel a pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind. Those familiar curls come to tickle your skin when Matty hides his face in your neck and presses kisses to your skin there.
A smile breaks on your face slowly, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment but then you raise your head back up, hold your water filled cup, and you catch a glimpse of Ross talking to Taylor this time, people orbiting around subtly waiting for their turn to get a minute of the pop star’s attention and your insecurities can’t be held back any longer.
“Girlfriend?” You ask Matty, and the word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, like you’re waiting for him to inevitably try to softly take it back.
He giggles, loving hearing that word tied to you, and he pecks your neck once more before nonchalantly replying, “Yeah, well, If you want to be?” He only words it like that just so you don’t feel suffocated if it’s not what you want, but god does he want to call you that every chance he gets from now on.
The fluttery feeling it gives him disappears completely when you let your voice drop almost entirely and he can barely hear you when you mumble, “I think it’s more do you want to settle for me?”
“Woah,” Matty’s grip on you loosens immediately and he moves to the side to see your face. And when he sees that you’re deadly serious he grabs your hand and instructs, “Come here.”
The curly haired man pulls you in the direction of the hallway, out of the big green room and into the next room which is also theirs but has only a few members of their crew chatting together and writing some stuff down.
Matty knocks on the halfway open door and asks, “Can we have the room please?” his worry entirely written on his face so everyone nods eagerly and they quickly get their things to leave. “Thanks.”
As you’re both waiting for people to clear the room, you can feel his thumb stroking the back of your hand as he holds it and you wish that helped everything you were currently feeling. But it doesn’t. It just makes you think that you’re about to lose it, lose this, and that after this conversation you probably won’t ever experience it again.
The second the last person is out and they’ve closed the door behind them, Matty steps around you to face you and grabs your hands, “What do you mean ‘settle’ for you? Do you really think being with you is settling?”
He hopes that his touch is enough to help you feel better but it’s clear this is much more than a small concern when you shrug and admit, “Yeah. To be entirely honest, yeah, because you could do so much better.”
His jaw drops slightly, his heart sinking to the pits of his stomach and his hold becomes stronger as he almost begs for you to be joking, “Please, please tell me you’re winding me up because that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
The knot in your throat tightens and you know if you even try to open your mouth, all that will come up is a stupid cry so you stay silent, letting your eyes drop from his in embarrassment. You feel even worse when he dips his head, trying to get you to look at him and his voice goes quiet when he asks, “Do you not want this?”
His words were laced with such sorrow that it kicks you in the gut and makes you look up, shaking your head eagerly to deny that, “I- no, I do,” You clear up the quickest you can but you think it’s best if you just say your thoughts aloud so you let your insecurities fall from your lips, “But you could be with someone like Ta-”
“Don’t say that.” Matty stops you hastily. He pulls you in by your hands, letting them drop so his hold is now on your waist and he stares right into your eyes to tell you, “Don’t compare yourself to other people when we’re talking about us.”
You’re about to tell him that you can’t help yourself, not when even your best friend can see it being possible, but he beats you to it as he reassures you further, “I want to be with you, okay? I’m the one massively punching here and I can’t believe you think that being with you is anywhere near settling because it’s not.”
Your brows furrow and the corners of your lips drop when you fight his argument with a sad tone in your voice, “You are not the one punching.”
But Matty won’t let that thought continue to be a thing inside your mind because it couldn't be further from the truth, “I am.” He reassures you again and brings one of his hands up to cup your jaw.
“Baby, you’re breaking my heart.” His eyes are looking straight into yours, begging for you to drop all of it, for you to stop believing yourself and start abiding by what he’s telling you to be the truth.
It’s hard though, when all that you can think of is him regretting his decision of ever having something with you because he realises he could have anyone he could’ve ever wanted. You don’t want to be a waste of time for him.
There’s no way you could embarrass yourself any further now so you let your thoughts freely fall out of your mouth, “I just don’t want you to feel like you've wasted your time ever being with me when you could have someone so much better.”
You can barely get the last word out before a sob rips through you and all he can think of doing is crush you into a hug, because his words don’t seem to be helping at all. His heart breaks feeling you shake in his arms, the collar of his shirt getting wet from your tears and they burn his skin like cigarettes being put out on him.
Matty just lets you cry it out, dropping kisses on top of your head as you do, rubbing one of his hands up and down your back and telling you that, “You’re fine.”
There’s a small moment of clarity when you realise just what you’re doing and you pull back to aggressively wipe your tears as you curse under your breath, “For fucks sake, I’m sick of crying. Jet lag is doing me so dirty.”
Something clicks when you say that, his hands slowly going down your sides until they settle on your hips again and, pouting, he asks you for confirmation, “This is why you were upset when you were away too, isn’t it?”
But your quick, “No.” is not convincing to him, despite it being the truth so he says, “Baby.” sternly under his breath because he just wants you to continue being open with him, so you can work it out.
And you give him just that, sighing and retelling what had happened, “Amelia said something and it just got to me because I’d been awake like thirty hours. I didn’t-,” You cut your own rambling before your voice breaks again and inhale deeply to continue, “I didn’t want to think about what this was when I was meant to be hosting the fucking Golden Globes, but then you hesitated before and it brought it all back.”
The way your chest heaves as you’re trying to swallow a sob has Matty holding back from becoming visibly upset himself, forcing himself not to tear up because he wants to remain calm for you.
Softly, he starts explaining just what happened before, “I only hesitated because I don’t know if that’s what you even wanted.” He stops, trying to think of a better way to put it because he didn’t want to sound like an arsehole, “I know I asked you at that party and I was serious about it but I didn’t know if you remembered because we hadn’t talked about it since. I didn’t know whether you just wanted to fuck for a while and then leave it as friends.”
Your chin wobbles after hearing him and all you can think of doing is admitting, “I don’t want to be your friend.”
Taking the chance to make a joke so he lightens up your mood, he flashes you a sad smile as he finishes the lyric, “You want me to kiss your neck?”
And thankfully that has you snorting, “You’re a dickhead.” You tell him, fighting a smile entirely a product of amusement, and recoil into yourself when you proceed to admit, “But yeah I do.”
He lets you breathe, seeing you start to calm down. Your incessant tears and heart wrenching sobs are exchanged for bloodshot eyes and sniffling, and it’s when he feels you relax under his touch that he pleads, “Can we make this official then please?”
“You actually want that?” You know you’re being quite annoying with your lack of confidence but after having had all of those thoughts spinning around your head for such a long time, you feel like you need every bit of reassurance you can get.
His wholehearted faith in himself when he nods and says, “More than anything.” make you want to cry all over again, and the feeling only gets stronger when he continues on praising you, “I’ve told you I’m obsessed with you. I don’t wanna let you go. Struggled for the last few days baby, it’s been awful.”
You can’t help your eyes filling up with tears again, seeing Matty all blurry in front of you through them, your pout reappearing on your face.
Matty swears seeing you upset is one of the worst aches he’s felt, so he almost begs you to reply with a yes when he says, “Those better be happy tears.”
“They are.” You nod, pursing your lips when a few stubborn tears fall down your cheeks, and you repeat, “They are.” just to assure him you’re feeling fine now, “Sorry you know when you sometimes just need a cry.”
That he truly understands, but god does it hurt watching you get so upset over something you really shouldn’t. And he knows it’s all in your head, so there isn’t anything else he’d rather do than help you overcome moments like it.
“Come here.” Matty pulls you in again, his arms around your waist and yours snaking around his middle. He feels you nuzzling into his neck, completely melting in his embrace, and it feels so fucking nice to have you like this again.
The distance these few days have brought between you has been enough for him to know for certain that he wants something with you, so he can’t let more time go by without asking again, “So you’ll be my girlfriend?”
Perhaps is rather fucked up of your brain to bring on more obstacles that you can think of but you try to lighten it up by turning your brand new aching thought into a bit of a joke, so you lean back and look him in the eye before you carefully ask, “You won't get upset about me having to flirt with people for a living?”
Yet, Matty is so sure in his answer that he doesn’t even take another second to say, “Nope. Can talk about it more later if you want. I know it’s early on but you know when you can feel something is right? And I don’t want to waste any time with you, I’m all in. I really want to see where this could go.”
You feel every atom in your body melt at his words, a gleam in his eyes as he takes in every inch of your face and his heart starts beating faster in his chest when you smile brightly at him and give him a hint of a nod, “I want that too.”
Right then, he knows deep down that it’s a moment he’d live to remember. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but he hopes that the feelings bottled up inside the both of you meant that this between you would go on for far longer than the two of you could ever expect.
“Then it's settled, girlfriend.” That smirk you love so much makes an appearance and it somehow settles it all for you.
Now feeling more playful, you can’t pass on the opportunity to egg him on so you try your luck, “If I'm your girlfriend can you do something for me?”
His curiosity has him nodding almost instantly, “‘Course.”
But you watch him clearly deflate and give you a sarcastic roll of his eyes when your petition is for him to, “Play Antichrist.”
Narrowing his eyes at you, he leans in until you feel his lips brushing yours and he teases you by saying, “Some things not even girlfriends get the privilege of.”
“Then please put out the ubiquitass version of The 1975. Please.” You bargain this time, pulling back slightly so he doesn’t have the chance to avoid answering by sealing your lips together.
You’re actually surprised when he tilts his head to the side and smiles widely at you, “We might have another version of Being Funny somewhere.” He trails off mysteriously and your jaw drops.
“Is it coming soon? Are you actually putting it out? Are there more songs?” Your questions spill past your lips in a rush, eyes wide in intrigue.
But Matty leans into you and his lips brush against yours again when he lowers his voice to say, “I can’t say.” His eyes dropping from yours to look down at your lips, lets you know he’s about to kiss you so you don’t have the chance to dig for more information.
Not giving in, you lean backwards ever so slightly, creating a bit of distance between you before you just state, “Rude.”
And he fights that back by reminding you, “I just got you a date with Taylor Swift.”
Your eyes go wide when you remember that has happened only a few minutes before and you giggle in disbelief, words failing you entirely then.
So Matty softly chuckles at you and wraps his right arm around your waist to pull you impossibly close to him and he mutters, “Come here.” before cupping your jaw and pressing his lips on yours.
His hold on you is tight yet delicate, strong enough for you to know that he wants you as close as he can have you and his mouth moving on yours so passionately, you’re willing to give up oxygen entirely and forever if it meant feeling the way you do when he kisses you like this.
You reciprocate, arms going around his shoulders and one of your hands going up his neck until your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of it. Pulling on it, he moans softly and you happily swallow that sound.
Both of you smile so hard into the kiss then, that it’s fully broken and, breathlessly, he pulls back just enough to watch your face and use his words to say what he was trying to express with that kiss, “I’m obsessed with you baby. You’re not allowed to forget.”
Entirely driven by your emotional state, your brows furrow again and you’re starting to pout when he lets a breathy laugh out that hits your lips and he reminds you, “No more crying.”
Using your nails to scratch lightly at his scalp where your fingers are, you let your pout turn into an attempt of a playful smile, “Well you better not do half your set then because I will be crying in the pit.”
The thought of you being upset again, even if it just was because of his music, has Matty needing to comfort you and to tell you how much he means it when he says he adores you, but he knows that if he keeps talking, you’ll cry again so his solution is to kiss you one more time.
His lips are plush against yours, moving so sweetly and patiently with yours like he’s just signed a lifetime away to dedicate merely to kissing you. Like he now has all the time in the world to feel you like this so he won’t rush it anymore, he’s now entirely focused on enjoying every second he gets you this way.
His fingers on your waist clutch you tighter, his fingers pressing into your skin make for a new familiarity brewing that makes you sigh in content into the kiss. Your lips open and he takes the silent invitation for his tongue to come into your mouth.
Humming in bliss, you both take your time taking each other in, breathing heavily through your noses and willing this to last as long as you can until there’s a moment when you remember everything that has happened these past few days and you have to break the kiss since you start feeling emotional again.
You’re not going to cry anymore or at least that’s what you’re trying not to do, closing your eyes for a fair few seconds with your forehead pressed to his and noses bumping in such proximity.
You sigh but smile, opening your eyes to look into his and whispering right against his lips, “I’m obsessed with you too.”
His nose rubs against yours in a eskimo kiss and you see the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiles and whispers back, “Are you okay?”
You nod, grinning to yourself when you feel his unruly curls brushing your forehead, tickling you in a way you’re growing to love, “Yeah, I think I just need a super long sleep to get me back in working order.”
Matty playfully snorts and rolls his eyes, “Absolute Grandma.” and he has you back to giggling with him how he’s used to.
“Know me so well.” You laugh, nodding in confirmation.
The singer kisses you once more before he pulls you into another big hug, and it lasts a long time. You only now realise how just how much you need it, everything feels like it did before, like all is at peace when you’re being held against him so tight.
Your curly haired brunette can’t stop himself from reiterating, “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.” You hum, closing your eyes and squeezing him that bit tighter.
You just spend a solid few minutes hugging each other and gently talking, Matty making sure to rub up and down your back and do anything to make you that little bit less emotional. He can’t believe his lucky stars though.
You’re his girlfriend. Even when he thinks about you officially having that title a smile comes to his lips. He’s so enamoured by you, he’s so happy you even want to be with him in the first place, he can’t wait to let himself get a little more romantic with you.
Another minute passes by before your little conversation is interrupted by a knock on the door followed by someone calling, “Matty?”
“Give us a minute.” Matty calls back, not wanting this moment with you to end just yet.
But unfortunately the singer hears his guitar tech inform him, “Your Mum’s here mate, she’s currently got Taylor Swift in about five pictures.”
Hearing that makes you giggle in his arms, picturing it with ease and you can practically feel Matty cringing at the thought. But he doesn’t break your moment, he just shouts back, “Be there in a sec.”
You feel a kiss on the top of your head and he releases a content sigh as he rubs up and down your back. And you give him another tight squeeze before you release your hold on him and pull back a little so you can look up at him.
He softly smiles at you, seeing that your eyes are still a little puffy from you getting upset. But you just look so damn cute to him. Looking all smiley with his merch on and you’re in his arms and you’re his girlfriend. He’s never been so happy.
“Are you okay?” Matty asks as he cups your face again, and he smiles when you lean into his palm a little as he gently strokes your cheek, “Do you wanna wait here for a minute?”
The singer is in no rush to go and see his Mum. Especially now because he’s nervous to introduce you to her. Not because you wouldn’t like each other but because he knows his Mum is very full on.
“No, it’s okay.” You shake your head, you’re feeling very composed again now thankfully. But you do need to ask, “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”
“A little bit, yeah.” Matty tells you honestly as he moves a loose strand of hair out of your face.
You pout and sigh, “Shit.”
He’s softly smiling at you though and he laughs at you scorning yourself before he shushes you when he continues, “Still very pretty though, so don’t worry.”
Your tip twitches at that and it takes a lot in you not to call him out on it and deny his compliment. Instead, you bite your tongue and appreciate what he’s said with a smile, but you do chuckle anxiously, “Your Mum’s going to think I’m a headcase.”
“My Mum already loves you.” Matty assures you.
Because the amount of times after your date first aired that he heard Denise say things like, ‘You should ask her out properly Matt… Someone like that would be good for you... You need to put yourself out there again and a girl like her would be lovely.’
Not to mention when you released the ‘Spicy Edition’ of your date a few weeks later, Matty got a FaceTime from her then quite seriously demanding, ‘You need to get a grip and hurry up and ask that chicken shop date girl out before someone else finds out how wonderful she is… I just replied to her story saying how amazing she looked at those GQ Awards and bless her, she replied saying ‘Just trying to look as good as you do on Loose Women’... I love her Matt. Ask her out before you come round for dinner one day and she's already sat at our table.’
Little did Denise know that he already had full intentions to go on another date with you. But her incessant pestering just meant that he wanted to keep you out of her mind so she didn’t put you off.
You chuckle but shake your head, “You’re too nice.”
“Just telling you the truth.” Matty assures you, “She’s going to be over the moon.”
That makes your heart swell and you can only hope she does like you. You’ve looked up to her for years, even before you knew about Matty.
“Lets not keep the UK’s Kris Jenner waiting.” You grin and slip your hand into his so you can encourage him to find his Mum and say hello.
Matty kisses you once more before you both leave the room and you can’t help but notice the stark contrast to how you felt entering the room to now leaving it. You can’t believe you’re somebody’s girlfriend again, Matty’s especially. If you think about it for too long though, you’ll get too emotional again so you try not to think about just how lucky you are just yet. You’ve got inlaws to meet.
You both hear her before you see her, she was asking the guy who must have been the one to knock on the door a little earlier asking, “You said he was this way?... Lincoln, come on, he’s this way. Let's go say hello to my son who can’t be bothered to greet me.”
Matty makes you chuckle when he groans about his Mum, “I don’t know how he puts up with her.”
“Leave her alone.” You shake your head, knowing he’s just being dramatic over it, more than likely because he’s nervous to introduce you.
But Matty persists, “You’ll be begging her to do that to you after tonight.”
You’re about to tell him that you really won’t when Denise comes around the corner and all of you stop to greet each other. It seems the Loose Woman hasn’t seen you just yet because she just reaches out to her son to embrace him, “Oh Matty, there you are.”
“Hiya Mum.” Matty says, and you let his hand slip from yours so he can return her big hug.
“Hi darling,” Denise gives her son a squeeze but when she sees from over his shoulder that you are just behind him, her eyes go wide and she exclaims, “Oh, it's you!” and Matty is let free from the hug and all of her attention moves to you as she excitedly grins, “You’re his chicken nugget date girl!”
This makes you laugh instantly, loving that she remembers you from your date with her son, but the mis-titling of it is hilarious. Gosh, you already love Denise Welsh so much, and you have a feeling once you get to know her, you’ll love her even more.
“How many times have I told you that she has a name and it’s Y/N?” Matty scolds her, shaking his head, but you’ve taken no offence to it at all.
She can call you Matty’s chicken nugget girl for the rest of time and you’d be happy with it. Not to mention, forever entertained.
“Sorry pet, I didn’t mean to be rude.” She smiles and she offers you a hug which of course you accept.
“It’s okay.” You assure her, giving her a squeeze before taking a step back and Matty slips his arm around you.
“Mum,” Matty says as he rubs his hand up and down your side comfortingly, and he looks at you as he introduces you properly, “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”
Matty looks so proud to say it, and to say it confidently. He wishes he would have said it confidently earlier and avoided your upset but it’s a conversation that needed to happen and he has no doubt he’d be talking to Taylor with you again. He will be sure to state it louder and prouder then.
“Oh thank god you asked her out.” Relief can be heard in the actress’ voice and you’re listening to her as she starts to say, “I’ve been going on at him since your date telling him to-”
But then she clearly looks at you a little bit closer and she interrupts herself, wanting to make sure you’re alright, “Oh love, are you okay? Why’d you look all upset?”
You’re about to tell her about your travels and your lack of sleep dramatically affecting how you regulate your emotions, but Denise assumes before you can tell her.
She looks at her son, almost giving him a death glare as she accuses, “What have you said Matthew?” and before either you can defend him or him himself, she looks to you and asks, “Has he upset you being all gobby?”
“Me?” Matty asks, wide eyed and offended, “Woman, you’re the gobshite of the family, I’m not the Loose Woman.”
At that Denise rolls her eyes scorningly before her expression softens and she looks back at you full of concern. But you make a point to assure her and get Matty out of the doghouse.
“No, nothing, he’s fine,” You promise her, smiling as you say, “I’m just really jet lagged and it’s making me unusually emotional.”
Matty raises his eyebrows, “See, eat your words now Mum.”
“Shut up Matthew.” Denise scolds him, waving him off before looking at you, still concerned and repeats herself, “Are you sure you’re okay, pet?”
“Yeah, my head’s just everywhere tonight.” You nod, giving her a smile, “I promise, I’m really happy.”
Matty pulls you into his side a little more at that and you let yourself indulge in it and lean in. And you can’t help your smile getting bigger when you feel him kiss the top of your head again, and his actions have his Mum’s heart aching seeing her son so happy again.
“Awe look at you both, such a gorgeous couple.” She coos, grinning at the scene in front of her, but when your smile gets bigger she can't help but add looking straight at you, “And you’re really pretty.”
“God, don’t make me cry again.” You say, feeling your eyes well up again, and you fan your eyes with the one that isn’t wrapped around your boyfriend.
Denise steps forward to gently grab your hand, “No, hunny.”
“Sorry,” You smile, blinking to try and make the tears dissipate, “A lack of sleep really doesn’t agree with me.”
“Don’t we know it.” Matty grins.
You fake a glare and nudge him, “Shut up you.” but this has Denise in stitches.
“Oh, you’re going to fit in the family so well.” The actress grins, and she can tell just from the small interactions she’s seen between you that you really mean a lot to him and that he really likes you. She’s so happy he’s made the effort with you, she knows how badly he needs someone like you in his life, so she grins, “Someone to keep him in check.”
After chatting a little more, you get introduced to her husband Lincoln and his little brother Louis and you’re pleased that they all seem to like you. All of you end up back in the green room where you find new but familiar faces. And you’re grinning once more when you watch Denise hug Flo before both you and Matty get your turn with her.
Matty gets to her first though and grins, “Heya Wheels.”
She smiles back at him, greeting him with a tight hug, “Hey Curly, where’s Y/N/N?”
Her question reaches your ears just as you reach her side and you greet her with an enthusiastic, “Hi Flo.”
She turns around to hug you this time but he smile entirely falls when she sees you face and before you could even open your arms to embrace her, she’s whipping her head back to face Matty and almost hisses through her teeth when she says, “What the fuck have you done?”
“I’ve not done anything.” Your boyfriend raises his hands up in sign of innocence but Flo doesn’t buy it one bit.
“Has he done something to make you upset?” She grabs your hands as she asks with a frown on her face.
You can’t help but giggle, heart warming at her concern for your state but you shake your head and smile at her to settle down her worries, “No no, I'm just really jetlagged and I keep crying. I promise everythings fine.”
You watch as her face softens and her hand rests on her chest while she lets out a long exhale, “Oh thank god,” she starts, turning back to Matty with an accusing finger pointing at him, “Because I was gonna fight you, making the most gorgeous woman in the world cry. You’re lucky I didn't instantly slap you.”
You pout at her words, not accepting the compliment at all, “You’re too kind.”
But she doesn’t allow you to do that, she reiterates her point by saying, “No, just telling the truth, gorgeous.” and winking at you, which has you giggling as your cheeks heat up.
“Florence Turner, you can’t flirt with George and my girlfriend, pick one.” Matty scoffs, but then changes his words for a better scolding, “Better yet, pick your husband and baby daddy.”
Never has Flo been happier than to hear that the curly haired brunette has finally secured his girl. If she wasn’t in the mood to tease, she would be jumping up and down congratulating them.
“Baby daddy’s back on tour.” Flo smirks before wrapping her arm around your waist and telling Matty, “So I'm going to do more than just flirt with your girlfriend, don't you worry.”
You feel yourself get flustered by that sentence alone, but when she brings her other hand up to shield her lips from Matty as she whispers into your ear, you feel your mouth go dry. All Matty can do is watch as his best friend whispers something that makes you look away from him and start getting more flustered.
Flo drops her hand and moves back a little, enough to look at you knowingly and ask loud enough for Matty to hear this time, “How about it?”
“Sounds like fun.” You just about manage to force yourself to say and your lack of composure has Flo smirking.
She looks from you to Matty, and your boyfriend’s face being concerned yet desperate to know what was said makes it all the more rewarding.
Flo makes her exit then, turning around in the direction of her cousin to steal baby Hann’s attention for a bit, giving you two a little wave, accompanied by a mischievous grin on her face.
Taking your hand again, Matty asks, “What was that then?”
And despite how much what Flo told you has left you speechless, you try your best to change your expression for a taunting smirk and tut at your boyfriend, “That’s for me and Mrs Turner to know.”
“I’ll tell Alex.” Matty threatens loosely, with his eyebrows raising and eyes going wide as if he was entirely serious.
So you fully dare him to do it, intentionally making it seem like something else was said, “Tell him, I think he’d enjoy what she has planned.”
That bluff leaves him speechless and of course because he cannot live with being left with some intrigue, he’s trying to get it out of you the whole time until he and the lads are called up to go on stage.
At this point you get told to stick with Flo and you’re both given O2 wristbands and you both follow Jamie down to the floor where you see that glorious bat signal that reads ‘The 1975’. It makes you emotional, it hitting you again just how long you’ve waited to see this show, and before you even get to the sound desk where Flo is going to be staying, you tell her that you’re just going to head into the pit.
She offers to join you but you don’t think it would be wise for her in a place where all of the fans in here will know who she is, especially when she’s also carrying precious cargo. So after her telling you to meet you back at the desk before the last song ends, you disappear off into the sea of people.
You’re pathetically emotional throughout the whole set, mostly the first half of it though. You were tearing up as Matty started playing the piano and when each of the boys walked out on stage, as if you’re not shagging the man singing and have been with all of them for hours.
But suddenly it’s not anyone you know personally up on stage anymore. It's your favourite band, your boys, The 1975. And you get lost in the music.
It’s all a little much for you. Sincerity Is Scary, Fallingforyou, and all of the slower songs off the new album have you in tears. And when they reach About You and Carly comes out you’re absolutely done for. You’re crying the whole way through and your throat hurts with the way you shout Carly's lines back at her.
But then Taylor comes out and you lose it again even though you were half expecting the intrusion with the way they were talking earlier. Hearing Anti-Hero’s live debut was amazing and hearing her sing The City, which is still one of your favourites, has you crying again.
You dance and cry your way through the At Their Very Best section of the show, again losing your composure during Robbers. Although, Matty does make you laugh when he says, “I’m not kissing anyone in front of Taylor Swift. In front of the queen? Have some respect.”
He chuckles to himself after that, and he adds after a beat, “And I've got myself a missus remember? No more kisses for you lot.”
Everyone starts screaming hearing that, and it has you chuckling to yourself. Watching Matty you see him looking at the people near the barrier and he moves back to the microphone to correct them, “No, you're not about to get The Birthday Party.”
There’s a mumble of defeated chatter then, until Matty grins and tells the room of 20,000 people, “I’m just getting laid.”
Screams fill the room, but you just elect to die from the embarrassment despite only a handful knowing it's you. Your cheeks go stupidly hot and you genuinely hide into your hands for a second silently screaming, not believing he said that.
He moves on, telling everyone, “Now back to something a little more depressing.” and Somebody Else is queued in.
The rest of the set seems to fly by after that, and before you know it Give Yourself A Try is about to finish and you’re watching in awe as the band waves to everyone who came to see them and it hits you square in the chest when you see just how happy Matty is as he’s waving to everyone.
When they turn off the power at the lamppost and the room erupts once more, you get lost in the sea of people. You just give yourself a second in your spot, taking everything in, thrilled to bits with the show and it was everything you wanted and more.
Turns out this was a bad thing to do, because you get a few people recognising you, which turns into a lot of people recognising you. You don’t mind taking pictures or saying hello to anyone but after the 25th one, you don't really see a way out of your predicament.
You should have gone back to the sound desk a song early like Flo said. But no, you got caught up in the moment seeing your favourite band. You’re in a lot more videos and selfies over the next few minutes until thankfully a security guard recognises you and comes over to help and the crowd around you starts dissipating, finally leaving the floor.
The room is practically empty when you look around it now, most of the people have already vacated and the sound desk is empty and you’re a little bit stuck for what to do until you’re escorted by that steward to the thankfully another security guard that you recognise and you ask him to radio Mark or someone who can confirm who you are.
When you finally get back to the green room, the room is buzzing, and it’s Flo who finds you and hugs you first apologising that she left the room without you as she couldn’t spot you. Denise then gets to you and you chat about how good the show was until your eyes land on a freshly showered Matty entering the room again.
He’s in joggers and his chicken shop date hoodie now and he looks so adorable you could cry again. But it’s just when his lips find yours again and his arms find home around your waist, you feel so overwhelmed by everything you just wish you could escape from everyone and it be just the two of you again.
After telling him how proud you are of him and how amazing the set was, he can clearly see you’ve been crying and asks how you are. Once he’s certain you’re alright you end up congratulating the other boys and you have another longer chat with Taylor.
She’s certainly everything you hoped for and more. She promises you a chicken shop date and tickets to the eras tour and you think January 12th 2023 might just be the best day of your life.
The excitement to watch the gig tonight had clearly been all that was fueling you so a little later when Ross asks Matty if you and him are coming to the after party, you decline straight away.
You tell your boyfriend that you’ll be alright going back home alone because you are dying to shower and get in bed, but Matty refuses to leave your side so he tells Ross he’s skipping tonight and that you two will be seeing him tomorrow.
The bassist smirks when that happens, biting his tongue not to call Matty a simp because it was certainly weird of him to skip an after gig party.
You make sure to hug everyone goodbye, feeling so incredibly happy to be in the presence of all these people yet so sad to see the day ending already. For a second you consider if you could go a bit further, maybe a couple hours at the after party but when you’re hugging Carly goodbye and your eyes struggle to stay open, you know you can’t.
Going home with Matty was making you giddy though. You’re buzzing inside even though your eyes are half lidded and your steps are clumsy. Matty has his fingers intertwined with yours and he guides you with giggles through the venue and out to get into one of the many private cars Jamie had organised.
It’s no surprise you fall asleep with your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder on the drive back to what you realise it’s his house when he softly wakes you. When he unlocks his door and lets you go in first, you smile brightly to yourself at the memories that come when you see his concrete walls.
“Is it weird I’ve missed your concrete bunker?” You ask with a loopy tone in your voice, eliciting a string of giggles out of him that make your heart swell in your chest.
Thankfully, you had left a copious amount of clothes at his place before you left for LA because he had gone a bit overboard about how much clothes you needed to take back to his during that first week of the month.
So you shower as quickly as you can, already dreaming of resting your head in the plush pillows and letting your eyes close, and once you get out, he watches as you languidly try your best to quickly get in one of his big tops and dry your hair before finally getting in bed.
“I missed you so much baby.” Matty whispers into your neck as he kisses your skin softly and pulls you closer to him.
You hum in utter bliss, feeling so complete being cuddled into him and hearing him reiterate that he missed you makes your insides flip.
“I missed you too.” You reply yet again but not any less honestly.
But you’re drifting off rapidly so you don’t get to hear what he says next which is, “I adore you.” and before you fully let yourself fall into slumber, you reply with a mumble of gibberish that has him giggling before he falls silent and just watches you drift away in well needed rest.
~*~*~*~
Matty allows himself to sleep in the next morning, knowing he doesn’t have anywhere to attend to until past noon so he can spend the whole morning clutching you and getting the sleep you two so desperately need.
But that backfires when you’re both woken up to Matty’s phone going off incessantly and when he groggily answers, he curses under his breath and apologises quickly, promising he’ll be there as soon as he can and when you reach out for your phone, you see the time and it all makes sense.
It’s only about an hour and a half until soundcheck and you are still in bed.
Despite his freshly made promise, Matty doesn’t make the effort to actually get out of bed, instead he lets his phone drop on his night table and scoots closer to you, nuzzling his face in the back of your neck and kissing every inch of your skin there.
“Baby, we need to go.” You remind him as you struggle to turn around in his hold.
Matty groans into your neck, like he’s refusing to listen to you but you tangle your fingers into his curls and pull on his hair so he can see you but the reiteration of your words die in your throat when he lets out a low moan at your action.
Your jaw falls a bit at the sound and he giggles in response, dipping his head to kiss you feverishly, moaning again when you let your lips part and your tongues meet.
Before it can go further, because you can feel his hands starting to roam, you take the role of being the responsible one and break the kiss, standing up from bed and forcing him to follow suit.
The wave of incoming messages that flood Matty’s phone the more minutes go by are what rush you two getting ready for the day and after a bit over an hour and a half, because Matty forced you to have breakfast calmly with him, you’re standing right in the middle of the barricade, watching your favourite band - or better said, your boyfriend’s band - soundchecking for a second sold out show at the O2.
It’s mesmerising seeing them work their magic on stage even if it’s just a soundcheck. Them playing around and laughing aloud but also being meticulous of every little detail sounding just how they want it to, has you leaning into the barrier with your forearms and stare at them all with an incredible sense of pride.
And, of course, you’re stuck staring at every move Matty makes. From the way his fingers run up and down the neck of his guitar, to the way he nods slowly as he hears the bass and the guitar in his in-ears, how he mumbles to himself as they go along and the winks he gives you whenever he turns to look at you.
Matty is also making sure to explain at the best of his ability just how he wants the interludes to go today, because he wants a different thing to happen at this show and you’re fully invested in every direction he gives everyone and how he’s laying it all to be. You can’t wait to see it on the actual show.
You had thought it was impossible, but you find yourself growing more and more entranced by him as the day goes by and in the greenroom, where you all are now after soundcheck had finished, you realise how most of the time you’re stuck mindlessly glancing at him as he engages in conversation with the lads.
That’s until your phone vibrates with a message. One from Amelia that says, On my way to the arena! Can’t wait to see you! xx that somehow gets you nervous.
It’s not that you feel like she’s going to take this in a negative way but you fear that she sees something you can’t and it once again pops the bubble you are in.
So you’re shifting in your seat and fiddling with your fingers the whole time after that text. Matty notices and he rests his hand on your knee, tracing circles on your skin and he leans in to whisper, “Are you okay?”
You could only nod and because you know he’ll get why you feel this way, you tell him, “Amelia is on her way.”
And just like you thought he would, he gives you a sweet smile before leaving a string of chaste pecks on your lips before he softly promises you, “It’s gonna be okay.”
You feel a bit foolish when your best friend arrives and she traps you in a tight hug as she says loudly, “Why’d you leave me early, I missed you on the plane next to me bitch!”
And when Matty chats back to that with, “Play nice, that’s my girlfriend you’re talking to Dimz.” the loud screech Amelia lets out makes you wince and laugh loudly.
Her face is priceless, a wave of surprise, disbelief and pure happiness for you as she leans back to see you in a way of silently asking for confirmation and when you nod, she screeches again and pulls you in for an even tighter embrace.
“Your Tumblr dreams came true!” Amelia yells as if that was a good way to congratulate you and you hear the room breaking out in laughter behind you.
Amelia greets everyone in the room after that and the night continues but you’re so relieved when she takes a minute to pull you aside and wholeheartedly say she’s so beyond happy for you, that it was about damn time someone wasn’t blind to how amazing you were and cheekily adding that she knows Matty is the one for you.
Emphasising heavily on ‘the one’ which she knows you get exactly what she’s playing at but you’re quickly glaring at her and hissing through your teeth at her to keep her mouth shut. Because you’re not about to get your boyfriend scared off over a fanfic you wrote years ago about him coincidentally called, ‘The One’.
When you both go back into the conversation everyone’s having, Matty making you sit on his lap and wrapping his arm around your waist, you feel so warm inside because it feels like you’re part of this little family and you truly don’t know when it was that you got so damn lucky.
And in a further rush of luck, you and Amelia get a message on the group chat you two have with your manager that intriguingly just reads, Need you two in a call with me urgently in two minutes x
You look at each other with a frown and you show the message to your boyfriend so he can loosen up his hold on you as you excuse yourself out of the room, at the same time as Amelia does.
Out of everything that you were expecting, which wasn’t much, you weren’t expecting the fucking insane proposition you got to which you both said yes instantly.
Coming back into the room ten minutes later was weirdly grounding after the fever-dream-like situation that had just happened, and it shows in both your faces just how insane that call had been.
The whole room goes silent as they see you walk in, clutching Amelia’s hands for dear life and your faces are twisted in the most amusing expression of surprise.
“What happened?” Matty asks almost desperately, Amelia and you are moving like sloths and your eyes are so wide they look about to pop out of your heads.
Amelia stutters when she tries to speak first, making everyone even more confused but then in a rush of adrenaline, you manage to interrupt her gibberish by announcing, “We’ve just been asked to host the Oscars after party for Vanity Fair.”
It doesn’t feel real you saying it, but what is real are the gasps and cheers you hear in the room. It’s only a mere second before every sense of yours is taken over by Matty running to hug you and Amelia, almost throwing the three of you on the ground in the process.
“Congratulations!” is all you hear around for the next ten minutes, everyone asking about how that had happened and it’s when you and Amelia start narrating how the call had gone that it hits you and you get a bit emotional.
But your tears are stopped when Charli comes over to crush you two in a hug and saying, “I got invited to it and was gonna say no, ‘cause like I don’t like anyone there but now that you’re going then… Might as well party together.”
Amelia squeals just at the same time as you do to the news and the three of you hug again, already fucking buzzing for what that night will be like. George being the best, brings shots to celebrate and it feels like the party has started even before the show has gone.
You hug your best friend when you get her alone for a bit and you tell her that you love her with your whole heart, leaving a loud kiss on her cheeks and squeezing her so tight in a hug she’s giggling uncontrollably.
All that you feel at the moment is like your dreams have ultimately come true and that makes you feel completely unstoppable.
So when the guys eventually go on stage, and you and Amelia run for your life to get to your seats, you’re living every second of the gig like it’s the last you’ll ever attend.
There’s a different feeling brewing inside you as the songs go and you see Matty doing his usual antics on stage, but your mind short circuits when Amelia leans in just as the band is doing their synchronised side step dance at the end of I’m In Love With You - which had melted you completely at how fucking happy Matty looked on stage - and she says, “That’s literally your boyfriend on stage.”
You understand the reference so quickly and you cackle out loud, making some people turn to look at you for laughing in that moment but you pay them no attention because you turn to your best friend and gasp shortly, “It actually is!”
Every emotion you feel during the gig is amped by a thousand percent and that’s why by the end of it, you let yourself desperately run back to the greenroom and crash Matty into a dizzying needy kiss when you find him right outside the room.
“Take it, it was a good set then?” Matty lets out a breathy laugh as he rhetorically asks, that feels warm against your parted lips when he breaks the kiss.
And you don’t even have it in your heart to be embarrassed so you nod eagerly, your fingers running through his curls and your eyes are taking every detail of his face. “As usual, baby.” You reply breathlessly, you just can’t believe your luck and it all wants to come pouring out of you so you pounce on his lips again and he responds with a soft groan and wraps his arms around your waist to hold you closer to him.
The kiss is broken early this time by your lovely best friend finally making it back, since you made the run alone a few minutes ago and left her behind, and calling you out when she sees you getting off with your boyfriend.
“Oi! There’s a kid present, you animals.”
You know she’s referring to Ross’s niece who’s inside the greenroom with everyone else, but the girl can’t see you and Matty outside so you flip Amelia off before she enters the room and she cackles as she reciprocates the action.
Matty giggles and kisses your cheek and then lets his kisses wander downwards until he’s leaving a wet kiss on your collarbone and you bite your lip to silence a soft moan.
“What’s gotten into you baby?” He asks with a smirk, but before you can answer, he adds, “Not that I don’t love it, I really fucking do. All of this. But I’m surprised, what did I do?”
Your teeth still have your bottom lip trapped so when the corners of your lips lift into a smirk, you look rather mischievous and something inside him flips. The feeling only gets stronger when you whisper, “Be my boyfriend.” and steal one last kiss out of him.
You could stay the whole night just kissing him then, but this time you’re both not missing the after party so once everyone is ready to leave, you’re walking out of the venue and getting crammed into a private car with Matty, Amelia, George, Charli, and Jamie en route to The Standard Hotel.
When you get there, you’re surprised by a little crowd of paparazzi that blind you with their intense flashes even from outside the cars, but it’s when you see those flashes that you realise that for yours and Matty’s privacy’s sake, you can’t be seen going in with him at all. Even if he does have more people in the entourage in the cars behind you, you can’t risk it.
So it’s decided at that point, The main four of them who would be expected in a car together would be getting out and you and your best friend would be looping around the block to come in with other less important people.
Matty quickly kisses and apologises before getting out but he tells you that he will wait for you just further into the reception of the building. Away from any prying eyes or camera lenses.
It takes 10 minutes waiting in the queue of cars to get back to the drop off point, and when you step out Amelia and you hold hands as thankfully less flashes go off, capturing you and your best friend. You know then that you’re going to have to leave with your best friend later as well just so the nosey bunch couldn’t ruin the novelty of your fresh relationship with Matty.
“Fucking hate them.” Your curly haired brunette mutters when he finally can wrap his arm around your waist and pull you to him when you’re all inside the lift.
You hum in agreement, “I know.” and you smile when he quickly leans in to peck your lips.
When the lift doors open and you walk into the big suite, where the music is already making the walls shake and the people inside talk louder than normal, you’re so relieved you don’t really have to hold back in there.
“We don’t have to hide here though.” You say into his ear, your arms wrapped around his neck and he looks at you with a smirk.
His eyes fall to your mouth and you tease him by running your tongue over your bottom lip, you hear him groan deeply before he’s attacking your lips hungrily, just like you wanted him to. You’re cupping his jaw, keeping him in the kiss and when you deepen it, all your inhibitions are out of the window. Your mouth opens to greet his tongue and you let out a loud moan when it presses against yours.
You’re kissing so hard, you both grow breathless rather quickly. “Baby, if you keep kissing me like that we’re not going to make it fifteen minutes in here.” Matty warns you, and it makes you giggle.
You lean up to him, letting your lips rest against his ear before you say, “Maybe that's what I’m hoping for.” and your jaw drops the tiniest bit to bite that slutty hoop of his, giving it a gentle tug before you pull away, letting your lust filled eyes linger on your curly haired brunette before you make you leave him in his place and make your way over to the bar to get yourself a drink.
Matty groans seeing you walk away from him after just doing that. You’re arse looking so good in that tight leather mini skirt you changed into before his set. No one backstage would have to bet that you were all Matty was thinking about during the consumption interlude tonight.
Little do they know he thinks about you every night he does it, and he has done for months. Ever since the first day he first let his hand slip into his boxers at the thought of you on the American tour, all he can think about is you.
Matty’s on you like a rash for the rest of the night. His hands linger on you every chance he can when someone's eyes aren’t on the two of you. His best opportunity is when you’re dancing with him, and when he turns you around and pulls you back against him, his hands are on your thighs running up and down until he lets his touch go further inside your thighs and you welcome it by pressing your hands over his and guiding him to continue.
His hot breath is on your neck, right below your ear and it makes you sway your hips even more intently so your arse is purposely rubbing on his cock, which you feel hardening the longer you dance.
It gets to a point his breathing grows erratic, from how hard he is and how badly he just wants to take you in the middle of the room if you wanted it, so his right hand comes up to wrap around your neck and turn your face towards him so he can seal the moment with a feverish kiss.
Your lips clashing as you continue to grind on him make you both go insane and you smile so hard to yourself when his chest is heaving against your back as he pulls back and with a husky voice, he suggests into your ear, “Let’s find somewhere to go.”
Matty turns you around by your waist, groaning at the loss of friction when your arse isn’t pressed against him anymore, and intertwines your fingers to look for a place you can sneak away to so you can freely continue what you had started.
You stumble into the bar first though and a drink sounds tempting after your activities on the dancefloor have left your mouth dry. There’s a wide selection to choose from and your mind is still so dizzy from every touch and every movement of your bodies that you’re unable to choose something to drink.
Ribbons decorate the complimentary bottles of champagne that the hotel has put out for everyone, and when Matty pulls you over to crack open another bottle, you giggle when it starts bubbling over and he lifts it to neck it straight from the bottle. Matty giggles too, and he pulls you by your waist so you're pressed against him and he leans the bottle up so he can pour some into your mouth. You do this with ease, swallowing the first few mouthfuls of it before the bubbles get too much and it overflows and the liquid trickles down from your mouth to your neck and chest.
The shine it gives your skin accentuates the way the corset you're wearing is holding you in. And Matty can’t help but dip his head and clean up the line of alcohol that has ran right down your breast bone and disappeared between your cleavage. You have to hold in a moan when he licks the stripe up from your boobs to your neck, and when he pulls back with the biggest grin ever, he loves seeing that spark of lust in your eyes again.
Matty just gets more ideas though because when he puts the bottle back down, he spots the ribbon tied around it again, and he can’t help himself. He takes the material off the bottle, and he guides it around the back of your neck, both ends on the front which he ties delicately into a little bow.
But you’re having too much fun watching him react to your teasing, so you lean into his ear to softly ask for it to be “A bit tighter please,” batting your eyelashes at him when you stand back straight and you have to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from smirking.
You definitely fail because Matty looks at you entirely overcome by lust but also a certain sternness from knowing that you know exactly what you’re doing.
“Is that tight enough baby?” He asks you after he’s pulled on the bow to tighten the ribbon around your neck a bit and you nod, your bottom still caught in your teeth, so your answer is a hum which sounds almost like a whine.
Matty is done for after that, clutching your hand tight as he goes to find the nearest place you can both hide into so you can carry on what you’re doing, and the first door he’s able to find open to show a massive bathroom that looks just well enough to try and alleviate the tension that you’re both feeling.
He pulls you inside as he turns on the light and quickly closes the door, crashing his lips against yours and pushing you right against the door. One of his legs goes in between yours, making you open them up for him as he attacks your lips, the hand he’s not using to cup your jaw goes down until it’s brushing against your thigh and it starts an agonising path until it disappears under your skirt.
He is the one teasing you now, his fingers tracing the edges of your underwear and missing your centre just to make you beg for it. You have to stop kissing him, mouth agape as your breath leaves you and you’re holding back a moan when the ghost of his touch brushes over your aching clit.
You’re wet and he knows it even if he had barely grazed you and he’s about to run a teasing finger over your clothed cunt to make you more desperate when someone starts knocking incessantly on the door, making you jolt in Matty’s arms.
Holding your breath as if that would make the person leave, you stand there frozen in his arms, waiting for the knocking to stop so he can finally touch you but whoever is behind the door is very adamant on going in the bathroom because they keep knocking without a break until you and Matty are sighing in utter defeat and you have to turn around, turn off the light and open the door for the person to come in.
They must’ve been in a rush because they don’t even acknowledge you two and the door slams shut after you’re out.
You feel hot everywhere, your heart racing in your chest and your clothes feeling too constrictive already, lips plump and you suppose, your lipstick gone. Matty is sweating slightly, curls starting to stick to his forehead, lips swollen and wet and his heart also hammering in his chest.
Being the one to lead the way this time, you turn a corner into an area you hadn’t bothered to check yet and you find a room just by the end of a small hallway. Instantly, excitement rises up your stomach and trying to be quick, you open the door and fully drag Matty inside with you.
The room is spacious and it has a massive king size bed in the middle but it’s weirdly covered in a bunch of different coats and bags thrown over. You don’t even give it a second to mind because there’s some free space on the bed and you’re walking to sit on it as fast as you can, pulling Matty to stand in front of you.
Your boyfriend gets flashbacks to the night after your date, when you asked him to fuck your mouth and from the sparkle in your eye, he knows you’re thinking the same as him. He gets impossibly harder when you palm him through his trousers, looking up at him through your lashes and letting your mouth hang open as he moans at your touch.
His belt is the first thing you take care of after he lets a shaky moan like he’s going to cum in his boxers if you keep that up and you’re too horny to let a drop of him go to waste so with agile fingers you’re undoing his belt and the button of his trousers is next.
You’re halfway done pulling the zip down, catching a glimpse of the white waistband of his Calvins when the doorknob starts rattling, startling you both. You can hear people attempting to get inside the room, a muffled loud conversation and more rattling that’s soon replaced with knocking that just about drives you insane.
Giving your boyfriend an apologetic look, you let your hands fall to your sides and push yourself up from the bed. Leaving a sweet short kiss on his lips as his hands are getting him decent again.
There’s a pained expression on his face when he’s tucking himself behind the waistband of the Calvins so his hard on isn’t obvious and you feel so bad for him but you can’t help find the situation a bit comedic. A giggle falls from your lips and when he glares at you for it, you press your lips together and raise your hands up acting like that wasn’t you.
His senses are in overdrive. He’s painfully hard, he’s too hot in his clothes, his throat is dry and his head is threatening to start hurting from how the people outside the room won’t stop fucking knocking on the door.
Matty huffs when he’s done, stepping forward until he can grab your hand and you are once again taking the lead.
When you open the door, you’re greeted by a group of four people whose frowns drop when they see you and one of them asks, “They told us we could leave our stuff here?”
You have no idea if that’s true, you’re guessing it is from the amount of things over the bed so you just shrug and open the door further for them to walk in, and thankfully, they’re so distracted to just leave their stuff as quickly as they can so they can go out into the party that they don’t even notice a miserable Matty right behind you.
There’s not a sight of another room after you leave that one so you’re both left to resign your mission and just keep to enjoying the party.
“Why don’t we just get a room?” He suggests with an air of defeat looming around him that you can’t help but find amusing.
“I actually do wanna party tonight.” You’re chatting back easily, trying to see for the first time how much you can push his buttons.
And when his face falls in despair, as he tries to fight back, “But-” you know you want to keep this up for as long as you can just to see at which point he could break.
“Plus there’s paparazzi outside,” You add a second excuse, “Don’t you think the receptionist would love a good tip off for the information of you and I getting a separate room?”
It wasn’t like you didn’t want it to continue, you really fucking did, but seeing this frustrated side of him was rather interesting and what was better than finding out more about your boyfriend.
Therefore all throughout the night you’re trying to steer him closer and closer to the point where he can’t have it any more. Either by dancing suggestively with Amelia and Charli as you stare right at him or making a show of ‘accidentally’ spilling some of your drink so you can wipe it with your thumb and sucking it clean.
It’s almost 3 in the morning when you pout at the sight of your boyfriend perched on a loveseat with a frown on his face and a drink in his hand. You go up to him with feign innocence, trying to act like you’re feeling bad for him and ask what’s going on as if you don’t know you’re the one orchestrating it all.
“What’s wrong?” You ask him, pout still comically dragging the corners of your lips down and popping your bottom lip for him to stare at.
With a hand coming to brush the curls falling on his forehead back, you wait until your touch relaxes him enough to offer you a hum in return and that’s when you purposely tug on his hair, shifting on his lap at the same time so he jolts at the friction lighting up a spark he had let die an hour ago.
His arm wraps around your waist instantly, not allowing you to move in the slightest and you find him glaring up at you with dark eyes. A giggle manages to escape your lips, followed by a not at all heartfelt, “Whoops.” that he doesn’t find amusing at all.
Matty doesn’t let his gaze falter on you, and you’re growing hot under it so in a further attempt to make it worse for him, you try to shift on his lap again but his hold gets tighter when he anticipates your action.
“Come on, let's go home.” Matty whispers in your ear, his sense of urgency showing when he subtly lifts his hips up as he straightens in his seat, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist that shows in between your skirt and your top.
“Okay.” You smile and spring up from his lap almost childishly, your feet already moving away from him and in the direction of your best friend.
Your boyfriend reaches out for your hand, clutching your wrist so he stops you in your tracks, “Where you going?”
“I’m going to have to go out with Amelia.” You explain quickly, your brows raising as if to remind him of the situation outside with the paparazzi.
He finally stands up, his chest coming to press against your arm as he leans in to say in your ear, “Didn’t know you were embarrassed to be seen with me baby.”
You fully roll your eyes at him and scoff, “Yeah so embarrassed, like you haven't been glued to my side all night.”
Quickly, Matty finds the words to bite back, “Like you’ve not been trying to suck my dick all night.”
But you know you have the last word when you quip back, “Like you’ve not been begging me to. Such a shame for you baby.” and he’s completely silent. You shrug and sigh victoriously and continue with your explanation, “Anyway, you know we have to go separate or we’ll never get a second's peace.”
Bless him though, he knows just how shit it is that you’re put in this type of situation so he pecks your cheek and you feel his heavy sigh against your skin, “I know baby, I just don't wanna leave you to get hounded by them.”
“I’ve got Ames, I’ll be okay.” You reassure him, cupping his jaw to leave a quick chaste kiss on his lips.
But before you can leave his side to get your best friend, he’s flashing you a smile and asking “You wanna get some food before we go?” as a tempting little bargain.
And that is how you, Matty, Amelia, Charli, and George find yourselves in Leader Chicken which is a 5 minute car journey away. You and Amelia left first, having that chicken shop in mind to go to and you ordered yourself a chicken burger meal and Amelia a chicken nugget meal.
5 minutes later the shop door opens again and your boyfriend, Charli, and George walk in and it turns a little rowdy. Matty tries to steal some of your burger which you elbow him away from you for doing. He asks, “Thought you exclusively ate nuggets in these places? Give me a bite.”
“I eat nuggets on dates because it doesn’t scream fuck me when I’m shoving a burger in my mouth, does it?” You frown at him, thinking that was a silly thing to suggest and a very invalid reason to give him some of your food.
Matty cocks his head a little to the side and tells you, “It didn’t scream that when you were eating nuggets to be honest.”
You frown properly at him hearing that, and you're more offended by that considering you thought he looked great on your first date. “Well, why did it when you were eating them then, you slut.”
“Don’t call me a slut with company around baby.” Matty whispers in your ear.
“Don't get your hopes up for anything now after that comment big boy.” You pat his arse twice before you move to stand with your best mate and Charli, taking a bite of your burger as you go.
George laughs at the way Matty’s face drops hearing that and the drummer wraps his arm around his best mate's neck and both of them start pissing about and laughing as they wait for the food. Once the other 3 have their food, the both of you split into different cars this time.
You and Matty drop Amelia off at her flat where Zoe comes out to collect her drunk sister and the food you ordered for her. After hugging your best friend goodbye, you spend the drive back to Matty’s house laughing and talking about the gig and the night but it’s something of a relief when you make it back inside Matty’s home.
The moment you’re inside you slip your shoes off and the concrete beneath your feet is a lovely cool sensation after you’ve been on your feet all day. Matty does the same before he picks you and you tell him to go and sit down and that you will get the both of you a drink.
When you walk into the lounge after getting the both of you a glass of water and you smile when you see your curly haired brunette. Matty has sat himself down on the settee, head backwards resting on the back of it, his eyes closed enjoying the silence around him. His legs are open and his arms come to rest down by his side, telling you that he really just plopped down on the settee with absolutely no intention of moving just yet.
Coming around to see him, you put your drinks down as you ask him, “Are you alright?” and you take a seat on him, straddling his lap, and bringing your hands up to his face so your touch can sooth him.
“Just tired.” Matty tells you, his eyes opening again so he can smile at you looking all stunning on his lap.
How the hell he’s managed to get you to be his is unreal. Never has he had better luck in his life.
And he makes sure he will never take that for granted. Your sweetness radiates when you smile so genuinely at him as you say, “You did great today, I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you darling.” Matty smiles, feeling so beyond happy and thankful he gets to call you his girlfriend now for however long you’ll have him. “Proud of you too.”
“What for?” You frown, not quite understanding. You’ve done nothing with your day but be by his side.
Matty chuckles a little at your lapse in memory, “You’re going to be hosting the Oscars after party. I’m beyond proud of you.”
“Oh shit,” You gasp, then laugh as you say, “How the fuck did I forget?”
“Big night for you, you saw your boyfriend on stage.” Matty plays a little, “Easily done.”
Of course you play along, “That’s it. Thank you for reminding me.”
You lean down then, only intending to peck his lips but as soon as they make contact you remember how good he’s been, and how much he’s probably aching for some relief even if his hard on has dissipated somewhat now. So you let your lips linger on his, pulling away to graze his before kissing him sweetly again.
All the while, your hands run slowly up his chest until you find the buttons of his shirt and once the first comes undone, the rest easily follow. Matty accepts all of your kisses as he tries his best not to smirk against your lips, but when you get more than halfway done undoing his shirt he can’t help but ask to tease, “What you doing baby?”
You kiss him again until you’re finished and pull the sides of it open, exposing his chest to you where you see your favourite tattoos. Your hands come to cup both of his cheeks, deepening the kiss this time and making your boyfriend moan against your lips, and you let your hands fall to his neck and slowly down his chest.
Only breaking your kiss to explain, “You always do this yourself,” You’re looking into Matty’s eyes as your one of your hands slip down his lower stomach, the other running back up to cup the back of his neck and when you continue in a sultry tone, “Think it’s about time someone else did it for you.”
As you pull him back into another searing kiss, you let your hand fully descend between both of your bodies and grab his crotch which has him moaning into your kiss.
Your fingers clutch tight around his hardening cock as you palm him over his trousers, and he’s a mess of whimpers and moans the more you continue until you decide he feels heavy enough under your fingers to go on. Swallowing a loud moan that slips past his lips by messily kissing him, you find yourself growing impatient to make him feel good so it’s you the one who breaks the kiss, but leaving him with a teasing tug of his bottom lip that you briefly catch between your teeth.
“Fuck.” Matty groans loudly at that, and he can feel your smirk on his skin as you kiss down his jaw and down to his neck.
You leave wet open mouthed kisses to his skin as you move up to his ear and smugly tell him, “If you ask nicely, I might.” and before he can backchat, you bite and tug on that slutty hoop earring of his which has his dick twitching and sharply inhaling.
He grasps your thighs tighter, “Baby, please.” and this time his fingers move higher up your skirt until they can dig into the flesh of your arse and make you hum in pleasure at the clear sign of his need for anything at this point.
Tugging at the zip of your skirt, you can tell he’s being completely driven by lust and it makes you chuckle in excitement, but you push his hands away in a silent instruction not to do what he’s not been told. Having this much power over him right now makes you feel giddy. “Want me to make you feel good baby?” You ask, moving back up so you can kiss his lips again.
“Yes.” He pleads, the desperation clear in his voice now because not being able to touch you adds so much more to it and it slightly pains him.
You smile at him, giving his dick one final squeeze as you lift yourself up from him entirely. His hands feel entirely lost without holding you now, but the feeling is clouded by the need of your touch on him again.
As soon as you grab a pillow from just beside him and put it on the floor by your feet, Matty’s heart rate goes through the roof. He can’t fucking wait, he’s been dreaming about having your lips wrapped around his cock again, you always look so heavenly when you do and christ the way you take him is so good. He can’t wait, his hips buck upwards as if he’s already imagining it all.
Still standing, you lean down over him, doing nothing to hide your smirk when you notice him glancing longingly at the way your cleavage is on full display for him. But his eyes close when your lips take up his again, and when he comes to cup the back of your neck, you don’t let him get too attached.
Instead you start your descent, kissing down his jaw, neck, and chest slowly. You’re dragging it out entirely but you want to kiss every last inch of him, and with his chest rising and falling faster than normal you know you’re working him up for what you have planned.
When you reach the waistband of his trousers, you have to really hold yourself back from shedding him off them and follow up with his boxers. Hunger is all that’s written in your eyes, a shadow of lust covering them in the way your pupils have dilated and almost made the colour of them disappear.
But ever since you saw that interlude tonight and the night before, you’ve got this train of thought that has been going round and round the back of your head and pushing its way to the forefront of your mind tonight. You want him to freely touch himself in front of you, moan as he fucks his own fist as a personal show for you, hear the things he says as he does so, let him run his mouth about what goes through his head whenever he does this.
In the best and briefest way you can, you tell him to do what you’re dying to see, “Tease yourself for me, give me the best view.” You sit back on your knees, giving him a look that he would be nervous to even dare defy, so he slowly lets his hands trail down his chest until it reaches the top of his trousers.
You watch as he shivers when his fingers ghost over his happy trail, letting out a shaky breath as he makes his best effort to keep his eyes on you while he does what you’ve asked him to, yet it’s hard when the look you give him makes him squirm on his seat even more.
There’s a bit of hesitation when his fingers hover over the button of his trousers, slowly undoing it but he pauses before he can get to the zip and looks at you like he’s asking for permission.
“Take them off.” You nod, not wanting the show that everyone else gets, you want the real thing and all of it.
Matty does as he’s told, unzipping his trousers almost instantly and pulling them down enough for you to take over and you let them pool at his ankles. Matty groans as he palms himself over his underwear until you look back up at him and watch as he takes his cock out.
You’re transfixed as you watch as he pumps himself a few times, spreading what precum is there before he spits into his palm so he’s not fucking a dry fist. Wet mouth falling open as he goes, soft gasps slipping past his pink lips and turning into full moans the tighter he squeezed himself.
“Good boy.” You smirk, watching as he fucks his fist, and you can’t help but press a kiss to his thigh before you lean your head on him entirely, continuing to watch.
But the simple feel of your lips on him, your touch anywhere on his body right now lights up a fire that he needs you to put out. Your fingers lightly trailing up and down his calf is even making him whimper, all he wants is your touch where he desperately needs you. He can’t find the pleasure he wants by giving it to himself as if it was just another lonely night on the road when he has you right in front of him.
He uses his breathless words to plead with you, “Y/N, please.” but his touch is still tight around himself, unable to stop when it feels so good after the whole night had gone incredibly wrong whenever you tried anything.
“You’re so pretty when you’re moaning my name baby.” You praise your boyfriend, eliciting a whimper out of him. His brows furrow and he presses his lips together as he continues, heavy exhales out his nose this time, his cheeks turning a subtle shade of pink.
“Aw,” You pout, “You getting all shy on me now Matty?” but the tone in which you asked is mocking instead of pitiful, which earns you a pained cry of pleasure on his part.
“Why are you huffing like that?” You scorn him softly, “Thought this was what you wanted.”
Shaking his head profusely, he corrects you, “Want you baby, please.” but his hand doesn’t stop and you just laugh at how needy he is.
For a minute you give in, licking your hand before coming to replace his and your jaw falls slightly when he moans loudly at the feeling of your nimble fingers wrapping around him and stroking him up and down at almost the same pace he had set for himself.
You’re fighting yourself in your head when you quicken your movements, causing him to grow louder and squirm more under you, hips bucking to meet your fist more often as the seconds go by.
But just when his breaths shorten and turn into gasps for air, you leave him swollen, red and leaking, so close to his high that it being stolen so suddenly manages to get you a surprised whimper that turns into a funny cry in despair.
“Baby why?!” He demands an answer, his hand coming to take over for you again but you pin his hands down on the settee before he can and you chuckle at him.
“Thought you liked edging.” You tease him as an answer, and it works when his eyes open wide to glare down at you.
“I like edging you.” Your boyfriend corrects, entirely unamused by your actions.
Any other complaint dies in his throat when you push yourself up from your knees to stand in front of him and lean down over him to whisper into his ear, “And I like hearing you all pathetic, begging for me to touch you.”
Something inside Matty flips when you say that, perhaps it’s the surprise mixed with the dizzying after effect of his stolen orgasm, but he’s so willing to just let you have your way with him tonight.
He wants to see more of you like this. The prospect of you being in complete control drives him mad, that’s why he cooperates instantly when you add, “And we’re going to go to your room now to continue.”
Without even a kiss to pacify him, you push yourself back to stand properly and without a look back at him, you walk away and up to his bedroom. You’re biting your lip trying to hold your smirk and laugh when you hear him seething and scrambling to get up somewhere behind you.
When you get to his room, you find it just how you both left it. The duvet is not quite neat but it's not the messiest you’ve both left it, but before you even make it to the bed, you feel arms go around you and messy kisses being left on your shoulder, leading up to your neck.
You let him have his fun for a minute, even letting his hand run down to the bottom of your skirt and when his fingers trail up the inside of your thigh you let him start teasing your clit through your already soaked underwear. Matty gets you all breathless for him, teasing you exactly where you’re throbbing for him until your head falls back onto his shoulder, giving him more skin for him to kiss.
You almost lose yourself, succumbing to the pleasure he’s instilling in you. But when he mumbles, “So wet for me baby.” you push his hand away from you.
Turning around to him, you can see the lust clear as day in those dark eyes, especially when his eyes fall to your chest. It makes you smirk again, and you make him take your clothes off. But when he steps closer, his lips connecting to your collarbone as he goes to undo your skirt, you stop his lips from touching you. You give him a silent instruction not to touch you as he takes your clothes off, and you can see it pains him to be denied the luxury.
His hands reach for the zip on your skirt first, and that falls to the floor within seconds. He looks like a man starved as he takes you in, but you turn around so he can get the clasps that are holding your corset together.
You almost laugh at how impatient he is when it doesn’t come off easily and he has to pull it together part by part as more come undone and you’re sure he’s never been happier to throw a piece of material across a room. And once he has you in just your thong, he moves to stand in front of you, eyes fixed to your body as he pulls the last of your clothing off.
You don’t let him gawk at your naked figure for too long, bossing him around has you feeling impatient and his reactions are only travelling down south to get you wetter. Your hands are on his shoulders then and you push him back so he sits at the edge of the bed. And you know it is cruel when you go down to your knees and look up at him through your lashes evidently hinting at what your next move will be but there’s no intention within you to actually let him cum this time either.
Matty gasps in slight relief when your hand wraps around him again, your finger coming up to his leaking tip to smear down his arousal and you pump him. Once, twice, three times until he whimpers and lifts his hips up to help you give him pleasure.
But as soon as you’re there, you’re gone. Hand coming to press on his thigh but he doesn’t have time to complain when, instead, you lean in and run your tongue flat up his cock from base to tip. There’s not even a chance for him to prepare himself when you just sink your mouth into him completely. You moan when he hits the back of your throat and still there, fingers clutching harshly on his thigh when you try not to gag.
Your poor boyfriend set his expectations too high after that, because he fully thinks you’ll finally let him coat your throat as he cums but you won’t and he realises that when you pull off him and you lean back onto your heels with a smirk.
“Why- Baby, please.” His hips writhe on the bed, his cock so hard its moves as he does and his muscles contract in frustration.
You raise an eyebrow at him and ask, “What? You liked that?” as if you didn’t feel him twitch in your mouth when you did so.
And you become so much more amused when his reaction is an effervescent nod, a heavy breath slipping past his parted lips and pupils dilating even more through half lidded eyes.
Your mind is purely focused on teasing him so you go again, letting him hit the back of your throat once again and this time you look up at him, bobbing your head once and rolling your eyes in pleasure as you moan around him.
Under your hand, you can feel his leg shaking slightly and by the way he throws his head back, you know he’s so close to coming undone so you let him have it one last time. One more bob of your head and you’re off him, rising to your feet and just staring down at him as he pathetically cries out in frustration.
“Y/N why?!” He calls out with his eyes closed, a deep sigh coming from him. He’d been so close, with the way your throat clenched around him when you moaned, the wetness of your mouth enveloping him and making him delirious.
Matty can’t do it anymore, so he brings his hand to wrap around himself and finish what you didn’t but your hold comes quickly around his wrist and forces him to let go because you’re not allowing him to.
“No.” You say easily, satisfied entirely when he huffs again but listens. “You’re such a cry baby, aren’t you?” Your hand cups his jaw, making him look up at you and he does with a glare that excites you because all it says is that you’re in trouble. But this time you’re in charge so you give him a pout and offer, “Do you want me?”
There’s not a split of a second where he doubts, Matty is just instantly nodding but when your fingers dig on his face, he lets out a breathless, “Yes.”
Your tongue runs over your bottom lip as a smirk grows on your face. “Good boy,” you praise with a wink and then you lean into him, until your lips are just hovering over his and finish your demands, “If you want me, then you’ll make me cum first.”
His head is spinning from the whiplash of your behaviour still, so he has a hard time trying to figure out what is it that you want him to do but when you continue to run that filthy mouth of yours, he gathers what’s on your mind.
“You love to have that tongue of yours out all the time, don’t you? Why don’t you put it to good use and make me cum all over it.”
There’s no further instruction needed, Matty just shuffles himself up the bed until his head is resting on the pillow and he’s staring at you, impatiently waiting for you to move on top of him.
“Looking a little impatient there.” His hands are unable to stay still, they struggle to find a place to rest when he’s watching you slowly kneel on the bed and crawl up to him. When you reach just beside him, you make a show of straddling him and purposely let your slick, wet cunt graze the tip of his hard cock.
Anticipating his actions, you move forward and leave him more frustrated when he pushes his hips upwards to properly feel your wetness on him. You laugh, your knees coming right beside his shoulders and not calling him out when his hands come to clutch at your thighs.
He takes a look at you and he squirms underneath you when he catches a glimpse of how drenched you are, his throat going dry at the thought of your taste. It’s written all over his face, and it makes you want to laugh even louder.
Your right hand brushes his curls back, some of them stubbornly striking to his forehead from how he’s sweating, and the feeling of your fingers is delicate compared to your continuous attempt to make him suffer but it turns when your fingers tangle in his curls and you pull harshly on his hair. He groans loudly, hips bucking up once again, and you just can’t not call him out for it.
“Eager little slut.” Is what you say before letting yourself come down and his gasp leaves him at the perfect time for he has his lips parted instantly to allow his tongue to meet your core.
The wetness of his tongue meeting your throbbing clit has you seeing stars, and when he flicks it up and down at a relentless pace, you have to hold onto the headboard with the hand that’s not tangled in his hair.
“F-fuck!” You moan out loud when he switches to wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it harshly, your legs trembling in pleasure as that familiar heat envelopes you completely.
The vibrations of a hum he lets out as he’s still sucking make your head hang to look down at him and you smirk with a hazy mind when you find him already staring up at you. He lets your clit go and kisses it quickly before flattening his tongue again and starts lapping at you, until he points it out and pokes into you with it.
You’re mewling as he continues doing that, jaw dropped and fingers in his hair making sure to keep him right there. Not that he wants to move, no. Matty wants you to cum all over his tongue, your taste making him get impossibly harder and if he thinks too much about how it would feel to have you clenching around his cock and not his tongue, he could cum right then and there.
As his tongue fucks into you, his nose rubs on your clit deliciously causing your hips come alive and start rocking against his face. Your orgasm fastly growing and you feel that knot tightening more the faster he goes and you love the feeling of how strongly his fingers are digging into your arse and thigh.
“So good for me.” Your hips are moving erratically as the friction becomes dizzying, your words slipping past your lips easily driven by pleasure, “A good whore for me, my whore.”
Those words make him go insane, and he only thinks he has to prove to you that he indeed is your good whore, only for you. So he goes back to lapping all over you to take in all that you’re giving him until your arousal and his saliva is dripping down his chin, and then switches between sucking and flicking your clit.
This time though, he surprises you when he takes one of his hands and dips two fingers easily inside you, making you curse out loud, “Oh fuck! Matty!” when his fingers curl and press on that spot you love so much.
When he adds a third finger, you’re done for. The stretch is already making you think of how much you want to feel all of him inside you and in pure desperation for that to happen, you let yourself go.
You throw your head back and shut your eyes when a loud moan rips through you as you cum all over him. Legs shaking beside his head when he doesn't let on until you’re the one to move away from his mouth and forcing his fingers to leave you.
On wobbly knees, you let go of the headboard and his hair and manage to move down until you hover over his chest. But before you can think of what you’re doing next, you bring up his slick coated fingers up to your mouth.
A loud moan bounces off the walls when you wrap your lips around his fingers and you taste yourself. You bob your head up and down sucking them clean with your lustful eyes on him, you can barely see the brown of his eyes anymore from how blown his pupils are.
Matty should’ve anticipated your next move, mischief clear in your eyes when you let go of his digits and lean into him, and with your right hand you harshly cup his jaw enough for him to know that you're silently prompting him to open up.
He lets his tongue out, anticipation running straight down to his dick a heavy breath hitting your lips before you spit in his mouth and instruct him to, “Swallow.”
Without a hint of doubt, he follows and you smirk down at him, very pleased at his lack of backchat or complaint. You let him know just how much you’re enjoying this by praising him with a, “Good fucking slut.”
There’s a sparkle in his eye, one that invites you to have some mercy on him so lacing your word with a bit of honey, you sweetly ask him, “You like making me feel good Matty?” still breathless and mind clouded from your orgasm. But moving back down his body you can tell just how much he’s struggling now.
He desperately nods at you, “Love it baby.” and you can’t help but lean down and kiss him. You moan, tasting yourself on his tongue and Matty groans against your lips when you let yourself straddle him properly again.
He can feel how wet you are from what he’d just done to you and you start grinding yourself against him, running yourself up and down the underneath of his cock. You part from the kiss by biting and tugging hard on his lip, and both of your actions make him loudly moan.
But your words definitely have him audibly groaning when you ask him, “Want me to make the ache in your cock go away?” You let your nose brush against his in an eskimo kiss before softly asking him, “Wanna cum inside me baby?”
“Yeah.” He pleads, his hands grasping your hips encouraging you to keep moving, because he can’t take getting nothing anymore.
But you don’t let him continue moving you, instead you stop and pull back a little to ask, “Yes what?”
“Please, baby,” Sounding utterly destroyed he begs, “Please make me cum.”
Smirking, you tilt your head to the side enjoying seeing him so desperate and ask, “You think you’ve been good enough?”
“Please Y/N,” Your boyfriend almost cries, “I have, I have, please.”
“Sit up.” You instruct, pushing yourself up with a hand on his chest and only when his chest once again meets yours, do you raise yourself up to line his aching cock up with your throbbing cunt.
You’re sure Matty’s hands have never gripped you so tightly as you sink down on him, welcoming that pleasurable stretch of feeling his cock inside you again. It feels like an age since he’d been inside you, it doesn’t feel like it had only been 5 days.
Your boyfriend is considerably louder as he moans at the feeling of you wrapped around him. Just to tease, as if you didn’t moan yourself, you praise him, “You make the prettiest sounds moaning in my ear baby.” and you kiss up from his collarbone to his jaw and then a long searing kiss on his lips when you start gently rolling your hips.
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, giving you the support you need to start fucking him properly. Lifting your hips enough to drop back down on his cock and the feeling is delightful for both you and him.
Your tits bounce as you go, pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest and the feeling brings shocks of electricity to every end of your body. Your knees start to get tired, already weak after you came on his face, so you sink down completely on him and switch to rolling your hips on him.
Matty watches you intently as your face scrunches up in pleasure when you start moving that way, your clit rubs against his skin with every roll of your hips which leaves you breathless and a moaning mess.
He can feel you clenching hard around him every time he hits that spot as you move which, added to the coincidental friction on your clit, makes the furrow of his brows become deeper as he wills himself to not cum yet - he finds purchase on holding tight onto your hips just to ground himself.
“No one makes you feel this good, do they baby?” You ask through half closed eyes, the feeling of utter bliss coursing through you as you carry on moving, “I’m the only one who makes you feel this fucking good.”
Your movements are erratic now, getting lost in the motion of him hitting that spot inside you over and over and the way he’s gripping you like you might disappear. There’s no doubt in your mind that there will be bruises on your hips from the way his fingers are digging into you so tightly, and you fucking love the possessive nature to it, even though it’s still you in control.
“Just you, god just you baby.” Matty admits, his eyes closed as he tries the hardest to grasp onto the last bit of restraint he has, “Y/N please.”
“You wanna cum Matty?” You ask, and he nods and pleads pathetically, mumbling things you can’t even make out so you tell him, “Beg for it.”
“Please, baby please.” He gives in without a second thought, “Need you. You feel so good. I can’t-” He chokes out, trying his best to wait for your command, but he’s so on edge that he can’t even manage to look at you for more than a second, his head hanging as he tries to hold on.
Your hand comes to cup his jaw, guiding him so you can see him properly, “Let me see those cute little faces you make.” And just to make it a bit harder for him, you’re bouncing on his cock again.
Using your pelvic floor, you clench purposefully when you rise up off him which has Matty choking on the hot air between you. You smirk, loving seeing him like this and you continue, until you tell he can’t take it anymore, he’s holding off and you know it.
So you finally give in and tell him, “Cum for me Matty.” and you keep a steady pace and watch as he falls apart beneath you. The long, guttural moan that leaves his lips has your jaw dropping, the noise alone turning you on more than you thought was possible.
You ride out his orgasm while continuing to chase yours and it takes just a bit of attention on your clit for you to cum around him. He whimpers when your cunt flutters around him, overly sensitive after the elongated edging.
“Did so good for me baby.” You grin with hazy eyes, breathless as you come down from your high, and you cup his jaw and softly kiss him.
He kisses you back sweetly, and he prolongs it not wanting it to be over at all. His heart feels like twice its size in his chest, he wonders how he aches for you even when you’re right there in his arms, kissing him.
It seems like time slows for the kiss, but even then Matty doesn’t think it’s long enough. You’re both grinning like drunk fools in love when your noses brush over each other’s in a cute eskimo kiss before you both decide that a shower is needed.
Under the warm water, both of you don’t really let each other go. Mumbles of, “Obsessed with you.” are uttered against the others skin and it makes Matty’s heartache.
How he’s managed to get you to agree to be his girlfriend is something beyond his comprehension. Your presence in his life has changed so many of his desires in a matter of a few months, and that is still a big revelation that he continues to uncover as the days go by. Matty realises that he’s never felt this way about anyone before. No one compares to you, and he’s sure no one ever will.
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A/N: HOPE BOTH HANDS REMAINED FIRMLY ON YOUR PHONES READING THIS CHAPTER! 😂😂😂😂😂 Lolllllllllllll 💀 Yeah I think me and @-alovesreading should probably repent again for writing this lmfao. Really hope you enjoyed it! Tour comes next and its going to be interestingggggggg, what do you think is going to happen? Thanks again for reading, see you for the next one xx
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an encounter - matty healy
minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!
content; you meet a stranger in the bar after your breakup ;)
word count: 3271
warnings: somewhat dubious consent (reader is intoxicated), unsafe sex (wrap it b4 you tap it!!) dom/sub undertones, degradation, teasing. lmk if i missed anything! <3
a/n: hi !!! this is the first fic i'm ever posting!! eek! i dont know how many people are going to see this but please tell me if you like it!!!
It’s not often she spilt her entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this stranger, with his head of ringlets upon ringlets of messy, dark curls, plush light-pink lips, and deep, chocolate brown eyes, was particularly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It made her want to give him everything, and absentmindedly, in her alcohol-riddled mind, she’d thought he would be a good scammer, or serial killer, whichever he prefers really.
But it's not entirely his fault; she’s stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit her system ten-fold.
She’s there because she’d broken up with her boyfriend the night before. They’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and she let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right?
Wrong. He’d been cheating on her since he went to Australia — four months, now — with a pretty little Sheila that he wanted to marry.
She was furious when he told her, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but she began seeing all the differences between her and the woman he cheated on her with: she, a perfect homemaker, her, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month.
“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” The soft english voice of the man across the bar cut through the buzz of her hazy, drunken brain, bringing her back to reality. “Cause he’s a right dickhead. For cheating on you like that.”
The man had entered the bar hours after she did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the soccer game on the TV above the bar, before she’d drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant her dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here she was now.
She peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but she can’t tell if she actually thinks that, or her foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail her into next week.
No matter, she thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of her throat sweetly, fire trailing down her insides. “M’not beating myself up,” she protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,”
He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as is she.
“Well,” he inched closer, large hand setting itself on her thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.”
This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with her: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from her face, later he swiped a drop of her Sex On The Beach off her lip, then he’d clutched her by the waist, pulling her close to him when someone squeezed past her in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in her ear.
Then, there’s a gap in her memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt she’d donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in her ear was too much for her dizzy head, and the only thing she remembers is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and the next, she’s pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee knocking her quivering legs apart.
They’re trading wet, sloppy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up her shirt till they reach her chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching her breasts needily.
He’s kneading her softly, fingers pawing at her flesh like he’d never felt something so soft, so plump. Her back arches as he does this; she’s practically putty in his hands.
It doesn’t slip past her that she’s being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom she doesn’t know the name of, but she doesn't care. “Please,” she begs, his name coming up completely blank on her tongue, “please.”
“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, hot breath against her ear as one of his hands moves from her breasts up to her jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to her neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”
She’s too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so she whines instead of answering, her weak fingers carding through his dark curls.
“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”
His words make her cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes her core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to her problems all night telling her she’s just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got her all hot and bothered.
“Please,” she begs again, more desperate than before, “I need you.”
The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly.
He had noticed how her legs clenched around his knee, how her breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how her fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch.
She bit her lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed her by the waist and turned her to press her face against the wall.
One of his arms then draped across her shoulders, pinning her down and arching her back, hard, making her ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. She let out a small gasp at the feeling, and she could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face
He can’t be that big, right? It was just her drunk mind, making him feel bigger than she thought through his shorts. Plus, she hadn’t been fucked in over a month — she was probably just not used to it. .
Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something.
However, these days, she’d learned that she didn't have the best intuition. First, with her boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently.
“Oh, fuck,” she cursed, head straining to look at him behind her. Unconsciously, she shyly closed her legs at the sight of him.
“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between her legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”
Completely flush against each other, she could feel his hard length resting between her legs. Just that, just him between her, already had her trembling in anticipation.
“Then fuck me already,” she bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, she was thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, her, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when her boyfriend made his routine visit. She was a loyal girl, alright, and her fingers never went as deep as any cock could.
But the moment for her to reveal her worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.”
Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of her ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on her cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom.
Her breath caught in her throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and she flushed. Thank god she was pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to her burning face.
He’d spanked her, and she’d fucking moaned.
“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of her panties.
“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against her, her folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”
He slowly slid in and out against her folds, his cock just barely grazing her clit, and she swore she could have screamed. The way he was teasing her was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous.
“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing light circles on the skin of her hip.
She let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” she squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked her tight hole.
“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into her.
“I came here to…” she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ground her thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“
Then, the loudest keen she’d ever heard tore out of her, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into her soaking cunt.
He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching her knees buckle and mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on her ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom.
“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking her like that.
But the way he insulted, complimented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had her shuddering; never in her life did she think such dirty words could make her so wet.
She barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout her body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how her walls squeezed around his cock had her barely coherent, face taut with pleasure.
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for her to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into her, and another helpless groan rolled off her tongue.
“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing her against the wall shifted, now covering her mouth.
Before she could protest, he slid out, then snapped into her. Immediately, she saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past her lips.
“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little pussy’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast she could barely comprehend the ecstasy she was feeling.
“Oh my god,” she barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of her relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for her moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into her sweet cunt.
Then, the two heard the bathroom door open, and she froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing her by the waist and planting her on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on her mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from her throat: this new position of her on his lap had his long length pressed right against her cervix.
“Now you really gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispered, pressing his face into her neck. She shut her eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting her mouth.
“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on her shoulder, laying his head on her back.
The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into her, his large hands coming to rest on her hips and help her slide up and down on his cock.
Her eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” she said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving her mouth, but she was completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure she felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on.
“Shh,” was all she saw him say, as she strained her neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.
Without his hand to muffle her groans, she muffled them herself, biting down on her tongue. One hand of hers gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep her balance, and her other hand sneakily travelled down to her wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at her clit.
He noticed this, however, hand gripping at her wrist and pulling her back to pin her arm behind her. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”
She let out a shaky exhale at his words, but she found her cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of her skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did she really get more turned on by what he’d said?
Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside the one the two of them occupied, exited the bathroom entirely, and she belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked her up and pressed her against the wall once more, this time facing him.
He plunged his big cock into her like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into her hips she swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into her, not even a fucking meteor.
She, on the other hand, was arching, the pleasure taking her body over completely. Her hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into her. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time.
Her tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like she was made with his fat length in mind, and it drove her up the fucking wall: the pain in her hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and her orgasm began to spill out from under her. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.
“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Her cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like she was afraid he’d never come back to her.
She nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of words.
He grinned, and lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into her. Her toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past her slick folds.
One of his hands lifted off her hip and trailed across her lower stomach, “Can you feel that, baby? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge.
Both were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and her a feverish mewl. She couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on her from the outside.
Suddenly, she remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before she had dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put her drinks on his tab, under the name Matty.
Her face grew taut, her orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across her face. “Matty! Matty, please,” she moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on her tongue.
“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged her through her orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of her throbbing core.
It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within her insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout her entire body like she wasn’t already being fucked relentlessly.
“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning in to rest his head against her chest. She was weak, sensitively riding out her high, but she knew Matty wasn’t quite as close.
His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling her walls against every inch of him. Her head rested beside his own, eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation.
Despite her orgasm, her cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both her skirt and his pants. It made her tremble, thinking of them both tiredly exiting the bathroom, dishevelled and having to cover the other up.
At this point, she didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting her mouth, with Matty’s grunts and groans covering up her whines completely.
“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”
“You do! Matty does!” She exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of her quicker and more jolted. “Matty owns this pussy!”
Matty grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within her. He clenched his jaw, brown eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of her cunt squeezing him for every drop.
You was so fucking full, and even when Matty pulled his softening cock out of her — which, was still huge despite its idleness — she felt stuffed to the brim.
His come dripped down her leg, and he promptly pulled her panties up, patting her worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good baby.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to her neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”
“Told you so.” She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking her to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within her own, clasping tightly. She didn’t really mean round two - though, she wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking her - she actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead her.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through her cheekily, pulling her close to him.
So, she did go home with him, and in the morning she laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, studying the beauty of his face whilst he slept. After that, they made frequent visits to that pub, specifically to the final stall on the left in the mens bathroom.
#i hope you guys like this aaaaaah#god hes so hot!#matty healy#matty healy x oc#matty healy x reader#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fanfic#matty healy x you#matty healy x y/n#the 1975#the 1975 fanfic#matty healy smut#the 1975 smut#matty healy imagine#the 1975 imagine#matty healy one shots#the 1975 one shots#the 1975 matty#the 1975 preference#matty healy preference#the 1975 one shot#matty healy one shot#matty healy fic#the 1975 fic#matty healy x oc fic#matty healy x reader fic#matty healy x you fic
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BABY / MATTY HEALY X READER
a/n: these photos make a giggle I won’t lie, anyways this was cute to write even tho it’s rlly shit. I love stories where they find out they’re having a baby I think they’re so cute. I’d like to do a part where they tell the guys as well
this was slightly proofread but I got lazy at the end as well 😔 ALSO FIRST (posted) STORY WOO
c/w: vomiting, pregnancy, pregnancy tests, brief mentions of sex??
Y/N hadn't felt quite right all day, for the last week actually. She chalked it up to eating too much food, pushing her limits and not getting enough rest or hydration as well. But when she woke up in the middle of the night, she knew it was something more than indigestion. She rushed herself to the bathroom and barely made it before she was down on her hands and knees, heaving uncontrollably into the toilet.
When she was finished, she felt thoroughly exhausted. She sat back against the bathroom wall and closed her eyes. she heard the soft rustle of her bed sheets and sighed knowing she had woken Matty up.
she heard the whisper of his voice as he walked towards their shared bathroom “darling are you okay?” she could hear the concern and tiredness as he spoke, she felt bad for waking him up, knowing he needed the sleep considering this was one of the very few days he had off tour.
y/n looked at the door as he walked in, way to exhausted from throwing up to answer him at the moment, she just looked at him and groaned
Matty walked over to her and sat next to her on the cold bathroom tiles as he wrapped her in his arms, y/n dug her face into his chest and let out a soft cry. Matty had asked her how she felt, after she explained her symptoms to him, he began to suspect the same thing she had been afraid to think of. he gently grabbed her chin, making her look at him before he asked softly “do you think you could be pregnant darlin” she looked as if she was about to cry, what if she was pregnant? would he happy? she knows she would be even if it was unplanned. would the guys be happy? what if they all felt like she’d be interrupting their tour by having a baby?
matty could practically hear her overthinking in her head, so trying to knock her out of her thoughts he spoke again “darling, it’s okay” he gently rubbed her back before asking “Do you want me to get a pregnancy test?”
Y/N, too tired to speak, simply nodded. Matty gave her a squeeze and kissed her on the crown of her head “do you wanna go lay in bed for a bit or do you wanna sit here?” y/n slowly shook her head before saying she wanted to be back in bed
matty slowly helped her up and got her back into bed, covering her with the blankets and making sure she was comfortable before giving her a soft kiss on the lips and again on the crown of her head before telling her he’d be back in 10 minutes.
not even 10 minutes later, y/n heard the front door open and gently shut before hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, she was tired but was far too scared to take the pregnancy test she knew matty was about to give her to fall asleep in the few minutes he was gone.
the bedroom door opened and closed again quickly, her eyes were still shut as she felt mattys hand on her side, rubbing softly “are you awake darling?” he said, adoration dripping from his voice as he looked at y/n who looked all too peaceful laying comfortably on their bed, he knew she was scared of taking the test, but they needed to know the answer to what they were thinking.
slowly opening her eyes y/n looked up at matty, eyes still half closed, she watched as his smile grew even bigger as her eyes opened “do you wanna take it now baby? we can wait a bit if you’d like” matty softly whispered, reaching up slightly to tuck the loose hair hanging in her face behind her ears.
y/n sighed “I think it’s better we do it now so we know” she spoke softly as she closed her eyes again before opening them again. Matty gently took her hand to help her get out of bed before they headed to their bathroom.
Matty took the box out of the bag he had in his hand, opening the box and taking out the test and the instructions before sliding them onto the counter in-front of y/n. he gently placed a hand on her back before rubbing it gently as she quickly read all the instructions “do you want me to go outside while you do it darling?” he softly questioned her, not wanting to make her feel like she had to have him in the room with her as she did the test.
she looked at him, he could practically see the nerves in her eyes “yeah just while I pee on it, you can come in right after” she said, voice wavering as she spoke. Matty nodded and smiled softly at her before giving her a kiss on the head “I’ll be just outside” she nodded back at him and watched slightly as he walked out, closing the door softly.
she used the test, and placed it back onto the counter, face down, so her and matty couldn’t see when the results were shown, she thought that he wanted to share the moment together. she opened the door for matty to come in before looking at herself in the mirror, feeling her eyes sting slightly as tears began to form on her lower lash line.
Matty gently wrapped his arms around her waist before settling his head on her shoulder, and whispering softly into her ear that everything would be okay.
she sniffled a few times before she spoke “what if I am pregnant matty, what are we gonna do?” she looked down at the tiled floor as tears started to fall gently, a few of them falling onto mattys arms around her waist.
matty kissed her head gently “if you are pregnant, it’s gunna be okay darling, I’m going to be here for every step of the way no matter what and so will the guys. we’ll do whatever you want to do. if you wanna keep it we’ll keep it and if you don’t you dont need to feel like you have too okay baby?” He softly whispered to her, leaning his chin on her shoulder again and leaving a few kisses there.
y/n slowly turned around in mattys hold, looking up at him making eye contact, a few tears continue to slowly go down her cheeks as she speaks “if I am pregnant, even if now isn’t a good time to have a baby, I want to keep it” her voice breaking a bit as she brings her hands up to cup mattys face gently.
she swears she’s never seen matty smile bigger then he is now as he leans down to catch her lips in a loving but intimate kiss before matty slowly moved his hands down and picked her up before placing her on the bathroom counter, continuing with the kiss until they eventually ran out of breath and had to pull away from each other
once their breathing got back to normal they both smiled brightly at each other before remembering the test next to them, and that they should check it now.
“you know the test is probably done by now” y/n chuckled at him as she placed a quick kiss to his lips again “let’s look then shall we?” he said smiling even wider at her as she quickly got down off of the counter and stood infront of where the pregnancy test lied. Matty placed his hand on the back of hers so they could pick up the test together as he stood behind her, giving her a peck on the shoulder before asking her if she was ready to look at it.
y/n nodded slowly, the nerves from before coming back again, she was about to find out if she was pregnant, she was terrified but elated to find out. She looked back at matty for confirmation to pick up the test, he nodded immediately and she could see the tears slightly welling up in his eyes, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he slightly wrapped his hand around hers, her fingers began to shakily pick up the test turning it around
two red lines.
she was pregnant.
y/n felt a happy sob about to come out of her mouth. feeling mattys tears continuously fall and lightly land on her shoulder, a few rolling down and going down her shirt. She quickly turned around and looked at his face as tears began to flow out of her eyes too “matty baby we’re gunna be having a baby” she laughs lightly as she puts the test down again before reaching up and running her fingers through his hair as he leaned forward to place his head on her chest.
He muttered into her skin, she could barely hear what he was saying but somehow made it out “we’re having a baby, a fucking baby can you believe that?” He quickly picked his head off of her chest, looking at her with wide eyes “there’s a baby in you, a mini me or you, in you.” his mouth dropped in shock “I put a baby in you, oh my god” y/n let out a laugh at his antics “yes you did darling”
later that night as y/n slowly drifted to sleep, she could feel matty rubbing her stomach softly, and speaking to it as if the small baby growing inside her could hear him yet “I’m gunna spoil you so much, more then I already spoil your mommy. I already love you so much, you’re gunna have so much fun with all your aunts and uncles, and we’re gunna be one big happy family.”
In that moment, Y/N knew that she was truly happy. Matty made her feel safe, secure, and loved - and she was exactly where she belonged.
#matty healy fluff#matty healy x reader#matty healy fic#matty healy#matty healy fanfiction#the 1975#matty 1975#matty healy imagine#matty healy 1975#the 1975 imagine#the 1975 fic#matty healy x y/n#matty healy fanfic
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