#matty healy recs
Text
TEACHER'S PET (Pt.4)
cw: 18+, teacher/student, slow burn, pining, public arousal, public nudity, vomit (I'm so sorry- it's brief), v inappropriate :)
Since most of y'all were okay with another (accidental) chapter of buildup/tension/pining, here you are (any complaints that they haven't fucked yet can be disposed of directly in the garbage- good things come to those who wait <3 )
Teacher's Pet Part 4
You barge through the door of the bar, your blood boiling, what was lust before now turning into anger as you storm towards the bar, your eyes burning your anger into the back of his head where he sits, chatting with the same band mate as before. You tear at the buttons of your Professors coat, wrenching it off of you and tossing it on his lap as step between him and his tall drummer friend. You lean in front of him across the bar towards the same bartender that’d been drooling over you mere minutes ago, painting on your most seductive smile.
“Hazel,” you hear your Professor warn quietly as you flutter your eyelashes at the bartender, ordering another drink from him.
“Maybe when you get off we could get out of here,” you say loudly with a cheeky grin to the bartender as he hands you your drink, blatantly ignoring your Professor. You slide a few bills across the bar, letting your fingers linger on the bartenders hand, just long enough for your Professor to open his mouth before swiftly turning around and walking away. You don’t even hear the bartender as he sputters and stutters at you while he drools over your backside. No, all you care about is the brief flash of fury you caught in your Professors eyes as you turned, the image now playing over and over in your mind as you walk with purpose back to the dance floor.
You see Bex in the back, lips locked with a new man. You have no idea what happened to the last guy, but you can’t focus on that now. You’re on a mission. You scan the crowd, spotting a familiar face on the edge of the dance floor chatting with a girl you don’t recognize. You walk up behind him, tapping him on the shoulder, pleased to see a smile of curiosity on the bass player’s face as he turns to meet your flirtatious gaze.
“Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt,” you say, running your hand down his large bicep lightly as you ignore the look of murder thrown at you by the girl he’d been speaking with. “I just had to say, you played so well- the show was amazing!”
“Oh thank you! That’s very kind of you,” he says with a charming smile, tilting his head in intrigue as he takes a step closer to you, his large muscled body towering over you.
He is quite handsome, you realize. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so difficult to make your Professor jealous after all…
“Fancy a dance?” You ask with an innocent smile, gesturing behind you with your thumb.
“I’ve been waiting all night for someone to ask me,” he replies with a big grin, taking your hand in his as he pulls you onto the dance floor.
It’s not long before the two of your are grinding, running your hands all over each other, losing track of whose is whose. You’re having so much fun, but nothing is more rewarding, nor delicious than the look on your Professor’s face every time you look over. It doesn’t matter how much time passes (not that you’re a good judge of character while drunk), every time you take a peek at your Professor, he’s exactly where you left him: leaning against the bar, arms crossed, watching you with a scorching glare on his face. You hum happily as you grind against the giant muscled man behind you, closing your eyes and imagining that it was someone else behind you…
You open your eyes once more and smile devilishly as you spot your Professor’s glare once more.
“I’m thirsty- shots?” You yell to the bassist who nods with a smile. You weave your way through the crowd of bodies straight, and this time the bassist leads you over to your Professor. He nods at him cheekily, missing the lack of your Professor’s reciprocation when he turns to order a round of shots for all three of you. He passes them out and holds his up to cheers, your Professor tossing it back without waiting.
“To new friends,” the bassist smiles warmly to you as he clinks his glass against yours.
“Hopefully not just friends for much longer,” you say suggestively without breaking eye contact before tilting your head back and downing the shot. He raises his eyebrows with a smile as he takes his own shot, impressed by your forwardness. This was one step too far though, your Professor’s loud voice commanding his friends attention.
“Ross, can I speak with you for a mo-”
“Oh my god, I’m sorry to interrupt, but this is my favorite song,” you groan with excitement as you bounce on your toes excitedly, grabbing onto Ross’s arm and dragging him back to the dance floor. There was no way you were going to let him interrupt your plans- not after what he said in the alley…
“Talk after, mate!” Ross yells, holding up his index finger to your Professor as he follows you back onto the dance floor.
You realize as you stumble after Ross that you’re finally starting to feel a bit drunk. You savor the inhibition, letting your body move closer against Ross’s as you dance. You close your eyes, allowing the relaxing feeling to take over your body, lulling you into a haze as you feel Ross’s hands run sensually over your stomach, their touch the last memory you have of the night…
——
The pounding in your head wakes you up and the smell of something acrid fills your nose as you groan loudly, rolling over in your bed. But you realize very quickly that you’re not in your bed. Your eyes shoot wide open as you sit upright in the bed, the sudden movement making you wince in pain as your hangover protests. You scan the slightly spinning room, bright and white, the few simple modest wood furnishings in the room covered in endless piles of books, the only decoration on the walls being various shelves covered in more books as well as vinyls, CD’s, tapes… You look to your right, the culprit of the smell sitting in a large metal bowl on the wooden floor beside you, a wave of nausea hitting you along with the stench. You pinch your nose in an effort to not add more of your stomach’s contents to the bowl when the thought strikes you. You look down to your body in a moment of terror, comforted slightly when you confirm that you’re clothed. Another moment passes and fear seeps in again when you realize you aren’t wearing your own clothes. You touch the soft fabric of the washed out black long sleeve shirt and heather grey sweatpants underneath. You catch a whiff of something familiar… You clutch the shirt in your hand, bringing it to your nose, taking in the scent of cigarettes, chalk, and something a little spicy…
“I was starting to worry I’d have to dispose of a body pretty soon,” you hear in a familiar voice. You turn and freeze as you spot your Professor leaning against the doorway of the bedroom with his eyebrows raised, a mug of something steaming in his hand. He takes a sip as you look at him, and you frown in confusion, looking down at yourself in his bed once more.
“Nothing happened, in case you’re fretting,” he clarifies with a frown of distaste. You feel an odd combination of disappointment and relief- though the thought of sleeping with him thrills you, you don’t think you would have felt entirely comfortable if you hadn’t been conscious enough to remember it… It felt somewhat reassuring that he didn’t feel comfortable with it either.
“Why am I here then?” You grumble in annoyance before cursing loudly at the throb of pain in your head, running your hands down your face as you moan. You hear a soft chuckle come from the doorway. You feel your blood boil. “Got too jealous to let me go home with anyone else?” You taunt in a hiss.
“Miss Schwartz left without you,” you hear his tone darken. You open your eyes to see his face dark once again. “I’m not sure if you remember the rather unsavory characters draping themselves all over you last night after you finished your little rebellious performance for me…” he trails off with a grumble.
“Oh you mean your friend from the band?” You say smugly, trying not to wince from your pounding headache as you lay back against the pillow with your arms crossed proudly.
“No, Ross left after your third round of shots,” your Professor says in a bored tone. But his eyes don’t look so bored, the anger simmering behind them causing you to look away, their intensity too much for your hungover brain to handle right now. “This was much later into the night,” you hear him say as you begin to sulk.
“Who says I was performing for you?” you mumble stubbornly with a frown, clamping your hand to your forehead when the sound from your own mouth banged like a gong in your forehead. The ringing continues in your head as you look down at your lap to steady your breath, but you realize quickly that the room has become silent. You turn to look at your Professor and are met with a cold, unimpressed look. Another beat passes and he stands up straight, eyes boring into you.
“There’s pain medication on the counter in the kitchen. You can see yourself out, Miss Thompson,” he says before turning to walk away.
“Wait!” You call out, the room spinning a bit as you sit up. Your Professor hesitates at the door, and you jump on the opportunity before he can disappear again. “Can’t we just talk about this? Us? Like adults?” You plead angrily, his unnecessary kindness and cool behavior making you more confused than ever.
You watch him turn, his eyes narrowing on you.
“There is nothing to talk about, Miss Thompson. Now, please help yourself to something decent to wear home. I’d rather you not be seen leaving my building in that handkerchief from last night…” he ends with a mutter before making to turn again, but you’re too enraged to let him leave you in shambles once again. Whether it was the intimacy of being in his home or the residual thrill from his promise last night, you’re not sure, but something makes you finally snap.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You yell as he freezes in the doorway, his eyebrows raised slightly in shock. “You act like the thought of sleeping with me would send us both to death row, then you tell you me you’re going to fuck me senseless, but,” you point your finger for emphasis, “Not for four years! Then you tell me to leave, and now I’m waking up in your bed?!? Seriously, what the fuck!”
You catch your breath, waiting for a response as you watch him slump slightly against the doorframe looking at the floor in silence. You stare at him expectantly and he eventually he looks up at you, a glimmer of sadness in his eyes before he averts his eyes once again.
“I didn’t want you to get… hurt,” he says quietly, his voice faltering slightly as he shifts his eyes uncomfortably. He pauses for a moment, looking at the floorboards in silence before he clears his throat of the emotion in his voice. His eyes flicking back up to you, his gaze more firm this time. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone in a strange home with no explanation,” he finishes abruptly. Your heart flutters when you realize how much he’d gone out of his way to keep you safe- to take care of you. To do something so incredibly risky and incredibly selfless- even after you’d been so reckless last night. You feel touched as you blush, raising your hand to your cheek as you hear your Professor clear his throat again.
“This is a very dangerous game to play, Miss Thompson,” he says formally now as you look back up to see him emotionless once again. “And if anything showed me you’re not ready to play it, it was last night.” He pauses, scanning you one last time before standing up straight again. “Now. I’m very late for a rehearsal. Good day, Miss Thompson…” he says darkly before turning into the hall, leaving you alone, more dazed and confused than ever. If it weren’t for the emotional whiplash, you would have yelled after him again, but instead you sit with your head spinning as you listen to his footsteps fade behind the slam of a door, the sound dying off into the distance.
As you sit there stewing in your frustration, a fresh wave of anger hits you, this one much stronger than the previous ones. Very quickly you realize that with this anger came a wave of nausea.
Toilet. You need a toilet. Now.
You get up from the bed quickly and dash down the hall directionless. You see a door just before the entrance to the living room and spot the toilet, diving into the bathroom just in time for the second, even stronger wave of nausea. But not before you catch the sight of a couch in the corner of your eye, rumpled grey blanket and white pillow still arranged on it as if someone had just slept there…
You heave into the toilet, annoyed at the familiarity of the sensation, realizing you must have thrown up in here multiple times last night as you rest your clammy forehead against the cool porcelain. The only thing missing from the ghost of last nights memory, you realize, is the soothing sensation of hand rubbing tender circles in your back…
— —
You tighten your coat around you as a particularly strong gust of wind hits you, mumbling a string of curse words at yourself for having decided to wear such a short skirt on such a chilly fall day as you arrive at campus early Monday morning. It’s been over a week since you’d found yourself at your Professor’s house that morning and you can’t help but smile smugly to yourself as you walk up the steps into the familiar brick building, several hours before you needed to be there.
The Monday after the concert, you’d decided to skip class- your mind too scrambled, too fried to be able to sit through an entire class with Professor Healy teaching. The following Friday, you showed up expecting your teacher to ignore you, make his own life easier by just snubbing you, but to your surprise (and let’s be honest- delight) his stern gaze followed you as you entered the room just in time for class to start.
“Nice of you to join us today, Miss Thompson. I presume whatever ailment prevented you from attending my class is gone now?” He’d said loudly, the class silent as they waited nervously for your response.
“Yes, I’m feeling much better, Professor,” you said meekly, standing awkwardly in front of his desk. You stared at him with pink-tinged cheeks, taking in his beauty for the first time in almost a week. It felt impossible you could have forgotten just how handsome he was, and yet somehow you had, his features even more perfect in person than the countless times you’d reimagined him while rubbing useless circles into your clit, laying frustrated in bed as the memory of your Professor burnt an endless need within you.
Suddenly you realized the room staring at you, as well as your teacher, the look on his face expectant- you didn’t even hear his question.
“Huh?” You said, blushing immediately at your ineloquence. The smirk on your Professor’s face only deepened the shade of pink on yours as he repeated himself.
“Are you ready?” He asked, eyebrows raised patronizingly.
This is a very dangerous game to play… and if anything showed me you’re not ready to play it… echoed over and over in your head.
“Yes, Professor,” you nodded quietly in a daze, still standing in your spot.
“… If you’re ready to begin the lesson, then I suggest you find your seat, Miss Thompson,” he said sternly, but you weren’t fooled. You could see the delight at your dazed state dancing behind his eyes. You turned on your heels, fuming inside before sitting down, realizing that if you wanted to play his game, you were going to have to show him how ready you really were.
Now, as you stroll down the hall only a few days later, you practically shiver with excitement at the thought of your plan as you climb the large staircase inside up towards the teachers floor. Once you arrive at the door with its simple brass plaque that read ‘Prof. Healy’, the window covered with several sheets of newspaper for privacy, you knock before trying the door handle, the door swinging open with ease. You’d never seen his office before, but it was exactly like you’d expected after having seen his home- full of warm brown wooden furnishings and covered head to toe in books, the walls decorated in old exhibition posters and prints of various paintings. It was academic and handsome, just like him. Pleased when you see the office empty, you close the door shut behind you, then hurry over to his desk, eager to get in and out quickly. You reach under your skirt and begin to pull down your already soaked panties, your plan exciting you well before you stepped onto campus this morning. You place them in the centre of his desk, smiling at the glistening fabric in satisfaction before scurrying back out, pulling the office door shut.
You planned ahead this time, wearing a black skirt today which you were grateful for, as the first few classes were torture to get through- the thought of your Professor finding your wet panties on his desk all too delicious for you to do much more than take autopilot notes in your classes as you imagined all the different faces he might make when spotting them. You’d just begun to daydream about him touching himself in his office, the thought so filthy, so thrilling, so forbidden, you could feel yourself behind to drip down your leg when you finally headed towards your last and favorite class of the day. You bit your lip as you walked towards the door of the classroom in an effort to hide your smile of excitement, holding your breath in anticipation at what was to come.
You keep your eyes on your seat in the front row as you enter the room. You can feel his eyes burning on your skin as you walk. You sit down in your seat slowly, and take your time as you pull out your things from your backpack one by one, carefully placing them on your desk, organizing them neatly while savoring the burn of his stare. You sit up straight, cross your legs, and lace your fingers together in your most innocent goody-two-shoes pose before finally lifting your eyes up to meet his.
His stare shakes you to your core, his dark eyes glaring at you unimpressed from under heavy eyelids, his thick curls covering his subtly furrowed brow. His hands are clasped in front of his mouth, propped up on his elbows as he runs his thumb over and over his bottom lip. The last time you’d seen his eyes smolder with this much intensity, he’d dragged you out to the alley to tell you he was going to fuck you senseless after graduation. Either his patience was wearing thin, or he had understood your message that you were ready to play his game, but either way, you could tell he wasn’t planning on letting this go anytime soon. You simply smile back at him, too pleased with yourself not to luxuriate in your obvious success.
The class begins as normal and you try your best to focus as you take notes, writing down your Professor’s words ravenously, an effort not to draw hearts around each one. You’re grateful for the lack of class participation during the lesson. There was no way you’d be able to construct a coherent sentence, let alone one worth participation marks- not when every moment of silence between his words filled with the images of your Professor pumping himself in his hand to your panties. By the time the end of your class nears, you can feel you've soaked through your skirt- significantly.
You glance at the clock- only a few minutes of class left. No time for homework prep this time… Your eyes hurry back to your Professor- so little of your precious time left to look at your gorgeous teacher. You scan his body once more as he paces the front of the class when you notice a curious shape in his pocket, the fabric on his right side moving a little differently than on the left. Then, you spot it. A little sliver of black lace peeking out of his pocket, imperceivable to anyone who wasn’t looking for it, the black of his pants masking its presence.
He pocketed them. Professor Healy has your panties in his pocket.
You recross your legs, squeezing them tightly as you do, the itch between your legs desperate for some relief as you all but drool at him. The last minutes of class slip away like sand between your fingers, and suddenly everyone is gathering their things and leaving the room. You shake yourself from your daze, then smile to yourself as you take your time with finishing up your notes for the day and placing your belongings in your backpack. When you’re sure you’re the last person in the class, you slowly stand up.
“Excuse me, Professor?” You say loudly, your tone dripping with innocence. You wait for him to look up at you, eyes already challenging you before you turn, then slowly bend over, revealing your lack of undergarments- your glistening cunt entirely on display as you bend over to retrieve your backpack from the ground. You could practically feel his eyes, their gaze caressing the skin between your legs, a fresh drip of wetness rolling down the inside of your thigh. You stand back up straight and shiver with pleasure when you turn, the look on your Professors face all too delicious as you approach him.
“I finished the homework you assigned,” you say as if you hadn’t just exposed yourself entirely to your Professor.
“You didn’t have any assignments this week, Miss Thompson,” he replies. His tone is bored but the look on his face is anything but, the lust practically dripping from his parted lips.
You step even closer to him. There’s less than a foot between you two now.
“I don’t think you assigned it to everyone, Professor,” you say, your voice thick with desire. “I’m pretty sure you only asked me to touch myself at the thought of you, sir,” you say under fluttering eyelashes. You watch as his mouth tightens, nostrils flaring as he deliberately holds himself back, desperate not to let you win.
“If you think this is going to wo-“ he begins in a threatening voice, but you cut him off.
“I thought it was only fair to give you something to think about when you touch yourself, Professor,” you say innocently, looking up at him with your biggest doe eyes. “I’m just trying to be the best student I can be for you, sir,” you blink up at him.
“And you thought exposing yourself in my classroom would make you teacher’s pet?” He says, his voice gravelly with restrained desire.
You nod at him.
“I’ll be your pet,” you say, your eyes softening to something more sincere. “I’ll be anything you want me to be,” you breathe, tilting your chin up towards him, your lips only a couple inches from his.
“How about clothed and not a nuisance in my class?” he offers through gritted teeth.
You reach up on your tip toes, brushing your lips against his neck as you purr into his ear.
“If you wanted me clothed you shouldn’t have hid these somewhere so tempting…” you whisper as you slip your hand into his pocket where he’d tucked your panties. Just as your fingers enclose around the familiar delicate lace, you smile when you come across something even more exciting. You hear his breath hitch as your fingers brush against his length, warm and hard against your fingertips. You suck in a gasp when you feel his hand on your wrist, gripping you tightly as he removes you from his pocket. Your heart pounds in your chest with anticipation, as he looks down at you with a fury so deep, you can barely stay upright from the weakness in your knees.
Then, he utters one word. One sinfully delectable word.
“Detention.”
part 5
#fanfiction#the 1975#matty the 1975#at their very best#fanfic#matty healy#bfiafl#matty smut#matty 1975#matty#matty healy recs#matty x reader#still at their very best#matty and ross#ross macdonald#the 1975 fanfic#matty healy smut#professor x reader#professor healy#teachers pet#teacher x student
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lou's Fic Recs (new)
Matty:
piercer Matty! Part 1 & part 2 by @sugar-coat-it
does it matter by @procrastinatinglikeapro
mechanic Matty by @noacfslut
and I'm petrified of being alone, now by @heyidkyay
hot to go @noacfslut
white and gold & the nsfw alphabet by @wreckedandpolemic
George:
dancing like she way out by @toomuchracket
one for the road by @abiiors
night, midnight, lose my mind by @grocerystorelist
car head by @wreckedandpolemic
subby matty by @think0fmehigh
Ross:
bunny by @abiiors
this by @abiiors (anything she writes is gold btw)
pierced by @wrestletotheground
workout ross by @wrestletotheground
the spring curse by @abiiors
new writers ( this is a new thing im doing but everytime i'll be including some new writers -to me, that ive read, that i think you should check out <3 )
@abboutross has some great ross fics and im enjoying her new series anywhere you go
@coucous-ballad posted this recently and i hope she writes more bc i love her
#the 1975#ross macdonald#matty healy#george daniel#ross macdonald fic rec#matty healy fic rec#george daniel fic rec#ross macdonald x reader#matty healy x reader#george daniel x reader#the 1975 x reader#ross macdonald fic#matty healy fic#george daniel fic#tillthelandslide fic rec#tillthelandslide fic rec : ross macdonald#tillthelandslide fic rec : matty healy#tillthelandslide fic rec : george daniel
133 notes
·
View notes
Text
Take my breath away - Matty Healy x f!reader
A/N: Really nervous about everything today!! I hope you guys like it! Let me know :)) This fic is based on this request, and works as another part for this fic i've posted (now that he's talking about reparations...) 🤭♥
Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI (please stay away), angst, jealousy, smut, fluff, typos.
Word count: 4.1 k
Blog Masterlist
At home
“How do I look?” Y/n came into the shared room of their house, and asked him.
Matty was fighting with his tie around his neck, when his girlfriend came in. He had been staring at his reflection for a few minutes, trying to get the knot right. When his eyes fell on her, the air got stucked inside his throat.
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, under Y/n’s attentive sight. She chewed on her lower lip waiting for him to say something, one word at least. If he didn’t like the dress, she would probably cry because her closet wasn’t full of options for Charli XCX’s massive birthday party. Y/n was convinced that the one she was sporting was the only good option.
Matty’s eyes travelled from Y/n’s hair do –messy and simple, she spent almost one hour making it look like it took five minutes and not that long–; make-up helping to show her factions perfectly, the dress straps assist his sight trail down towards her chest being adorned with a lacy pattern mixed with an almost transparent type of fabric. The right side of the dress opened from the middle of her thigh, ending closer to the floor. Her private parts hiding from prying eyes. Matty’s followed the route from her hips, down her legs, until his eyes fell upon her feet styled by high heels. Matty felt like a teenager, feeling a wave of heat around his neck and a painful need between his legs.
“Do you hate it?” she asked, snapping him from his daydreaming.
“Hate it?” his voice struggled to came out from his dry throat. Matty tried to cleanse it, detaching his hands from his tie. “Hate it?” the singer repeated once more, feeling his dick twitch inside his boxers.
Y/n tried to smooth her dress even though it was perfectly steamed, “You haven’t answered my question.” she didn’t dare to look at him.
Matty felt bad seeing her look so unsure of her beauty when all he wanted to do is skip the party and spent the night in bed worshipping her body and her.
He moved a few steps closer, moving slowly to not startle her. “My love…” Matty started slowly. “You always, but specially tonight…” he breathed in, the sound making Y/n look into his eyes. “You look breathtaking.” Matty held the sides of her face, keeping Y/n from looking away.
“Really?”
“Are you kidding, Y/n?” Matty moved her head a little, trying to wake her to acknowledge her appearance. Y/n brushed her shoulders. “Baby, I- I don’t know where to start.” Matty chuckled and she followed, copying him. “This dress is going to kill me.”
“You look pretty handsome yourself, Healy.” Y/n tried to divert the attention, but her boyfriend wasn’t having it.
“What if I text George saying I’m sick or something…and we spend the night here…” Matty let his hands moved down her neck, slowly, making Y/n shiver by his hot touch.
“No, we can’t do that.” Y/n threw her head back a little, giving Matty space to lean forward to kiss the exposed skin.
“Why?” he asked, innocently, as if he wasn’t proposing skipping one of the most iconic and important parties of the year.
Y/n tried to focus on the words she wanted to say, but his hands settled on her hips for a moment, meanwhile his lips attacked her neck, moaning when her perfume reached his nose. Her knees almost failing her.
“Because…” she pronounced. “It’s Charli’s birthday.” Y/n tried to push him away by his shoulders, even though she didn’t really want to stop him.
He didn’t answer right away, his attention entirely on her body reacting to his touch. Matty felt the fabric under his digits when he trailed up to his favourite part of his girlfriend's body. His veins pumping with ecstasy when her nipples hardened, finally getting his attention. Y/n pushed, unconsciously, her chest further into his palms.
“I don’t care…” Matty’s teeth brushed hard upwards against the soft skin of Y/n neck. “I don’t care if it’s the King’s birthday, and we’re invited.” he said breathless. “If I want my girl, if I need my girl-” that was when she felt him, heavy, against her belly. “Nothing more matters.” Y/n moaned, closing her eyes, feeling his soft lips attack her sweet spot under her jaw.
Matty squeezed her right boob, trying to get rid of the dress strap at the other side. Both action brought Y/n back to reality. “No, Matty.” she said, and he stopped instantly.
“Please.” he begged without moving further, just keeping his hands still.
“Later.”
Matty groaned when Y/n moved backwards, far from him. She moved the strap back in place.
“You’re killing me, baby.” Matty tried to sort himself inside his pants so his hard on wasn’t visible.
“‘m not.” she fought back, feeling her thong damp while she tried to get to the door.
Matty contained a moaned, looking her move her hips from side to side. The night was going to be long.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Charli’s birthday party
Matty gripped his glass of whiskey, meanwhile Ross was talking his ear off even though he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were upon a pair at the other side of the room.
Ross kept talking about his nephew and penguins, or something similar –Matty couldn’t care less–, when Matty almost let go of his cup.
“Wow!” Ross interfered, placing his hand under in. “Watcha doin’, mate.”
“What?” Matty spat.
Ross stared at his face for a second. Matty was frowning hard.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” it was the second time he asked the singer about it. They were at a party, they were supposed to have fun, although Matty wasn’t enjoying the evening.
“‘m fine, Ross. Perfectly fine about a twat flirting with my girlfriend…touching her.” Matty drank the rest of his drink in one go, groaning when the liquid stung his throat.
“Edward?” Ross asked, looking between Matty and Y/n deep into conversation with the man in front of her.
“Don’t give a fuck about his name.”
“Alright, mate.” Ross didn’t move a muscle, knowing how Matty was, specially after a few drinks. “Isn’t he Y/n’s coworker or something?”
“He’s one of her best friend’s brother, who has been in love with her for ages…she knows that. I can’t believe she’s letting him-”
“She’s not letting him anything, Matty. They’re talking.” Ross defended her.
“He’s been touching her arms every two minutes.” Matty protested like a toddler.
“If it’s bothering you so much, why are you still here?”
Matty looked at his friend, opening his mouth, “I-” he muttered, bringing a big smile to Ross’s face. “Fuck it.” Matty said.
His feet conducted him fast to the corner of the big venue Charli chose for her party. Y/n’s laughter reached his ears and his stomach flipped, knowing he wasn’t the one entertaining her.
Y/n got distracted from Edwards explanation, when a strong arm sneaked around her waist and pushing her back to came in contact with a hard chest. She recognized him by his cologned, rounding her. Y/n glanced down to his hand, possessively resting on her belly. She noticed he took off his blazer and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, showing the tattoos adoring his skin.
She turned around inside his arms, letting her hands touch his chest. “Hi, handsome.” she greeted him, oblivious of Matty’s mood. “I missed you.”
“‘m sure.” he said, cryptic.
Matty realized her eyes were glossy due to the alcohol the dumbass was providing her. On the other hand, Y/n acknowledge the frown on his forehead and how he pressed his lips close. Y/n crocked an eyebrow at him, silently asking.
“Come with me.” he commanded, not giving attention to the idiot standing behind them, expecting for Y/n to return to their previous conversation. Matty wasn’t going to allow him to steal her from him one more minute.
Y/n’s boyfriend didn’t wait for her reply, taking her hand on his and dragging her around the sea of people. She tried to look back to Edward to gift him an apologetic wave, but Matty was moving fast, which made her inevitably look forward.
The grip of his hand was hard, even though it wasn’t hurting her. The duality of her man send a shiver directly into her core. Y/n jumped forward, trying to get closer to Matty. The only response from him was to give her a side glance when she hugged his big, muscular, arm as if her life depended on it. His attention drifting away from her face didn’t hurt her feeling, the opposite in fact. Y/n wanted to know what got him so worked up, she wanted to be the centre of his attention as she was back home after they left the safety of their house.
—----------------------------------------------
After trying a few doors down the long hallway –all of them locked– Matty was starting to get hopeless. In any moment, he let go of her hand, dragging Y/n with him. His breathing was rapidly, and his girlfriend noticed the sweat starting to damp his shirt. An urge to lick it directly from the skin of his neck took over Y/n’s senses.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Matty tried another handle, same story.
“Matty, what’s going on?”
He turned around, his eyes falling on hers. His nostrils were three time bigger than usual, and his chest was moving up and down with a rhythm that entranced Y/n.
“Did you have fun with your little friend?” Matty snapped at her.
Y/n felt a little intimidated by him talking down at her, but her cunt thought otherwise. It wasn’t usual for him to bring this territorial side of him, usually it was a teasing remark and his proud self talking about another man wanting to have her, but he was all his. Rarely Matty let his possessive self took over. Y/n couldn’t lie, she was excited.
She decided to play it dumb, “What are you talking about?” her Bambi eyes connecting with his.
Y/n tried to touch him, even though Matty took a grasp of her wrist and, after one look to make sure no one was close, he pushed her towards the closest wall, pressing his body to hers.
“No with me, sweetheart. You can act all innocent with the asshole out there, but…I know you, baby girl.” he whispered, without taking his eyes from hers.
“I wasn’t-”
“Oh, no…you weren’t doing anything. You didn’t stop him, either.” Matty pushed his chest an inch closer, feeling her nipples hard like diamonds through the fabric of his shirt and the lace on top of her perfect tits. “He was touching you…” Matty copied Edward’s actions, touching down the skin of her arms –still pinned to the wall at each side of her head–; while his nose brushed against hers and his lips lingered above Y/n’s lips, feeling his breading fanning over them.
“Matty.” Y/n breathed out, trying to push her body off the wall, even though she had little space between it and Matty’s chest.
Matty pushed once more, “He was touching you, Y/n. And you didn’t stop him.” he said directly into her ear.
The warmth he was irradiating was driving her senses insane. The mix of it with his cologne and the faint smell of his favourite brand of cigarettes wasn’t helping to ease her feeling either.
“Did you enjoy it?” Matty asked. Y/n opened her eyes again, trying to find his.
“What?”
“Did you enjoy him touching you?” he repeated through clenched teeth, searching any sign inside her delated pupils.
“No, Matty- No, of course not.” Y/n pushed her arms away from his embrace, going to round his neck, bringing him impossibly closer. “You’re the only one I want, baby.”
“Am I? Because you looked really happy laughing with your secret admirer.” his voice dripping with poison.
“Are you jealous of him, Healy?” Y/n teased him to riled him up a little more, her hands sneaking around the back of his head, tugging on his curls. Matty moaned directly into her mouth, and Y/n never felt prouder of herself. “I am yours, Matty.” she declared, moving the left strap of her dress down until he could see her nipple. Matty’s mouth watering to the sight, and his mind focusing on her, nothing more.
“Fuck.” Matty muttered, resting his open palm on her left breast. “All mine?”
“Mhm, all.” Y/n threw her head back, trying to stay quiet, feeling his rough palm making circles on top of her skin.
A loud sound, louder than the music making the walls around the venue vibrate, startled them. Matty quickly pushed her clothes all the way back up before someone could see his girlfriend just a tad naked.
Charli showed up at the end of the hall. She cackled when she stopped a few meters away from them.
“Well, well, well…hello guys, happy to see you’re enjoying my birthday party.” Charli was visibly drunk, almost tripping over her own feet.
Y/n went to help her, “Okay, you need water, birthday girl.”
Matty groaned, realizing he wouldn’t be able to have his girlfriend just for himself at the moment. Y/n mimed a “sorry, later” walking far from him. The singer wasn’t going to stand alone, so he trailed down behind them.
“Poor, Matty…he wanted to get some.” Charli laughed about her words alone.
Y/n giggled, saying, “Let’s find G.”
“Yes! Please.”
*********************
Y/n ended up loosing Matty. It was getting really late, and the craving wasn’t going away. After leaving Charli secured by G’s side, she tried to look after her man. Seeing what time it was, just a few groups lingered around the place, making it easier for Y/n to search.
Matty was indeed a few meters far from her, talking with Adam, Carly, Ross, and a blond girl. Her heart dropped to her belly when she saw her twist her hair, looking at her boyfriend with suggestive eyes, biting her lip. ‘Oh, no’, Y/n feeling her blood boil.
“Baby.” she said, standing between the girl and her man.
“Hello, I’ve lost you.” Matty rounded her body, kissing the top of her head. The solo act made Y/n felt complete again.
“I’m ready to go home.”
Matty understood every meaning behind her simple words. He was ready too.
“Perfect. Let’s go.”
After a quick goodbye to the group, not acknowledging the girl looking at them stunned, Y/n pulled Matty by his hand out of the venue. She was moving fast like never before.
“Hey, hey.” Matty pulled back, stopping.
Y/n turned around to look at him with a puzzled look. “What?”
“Baby…” Matty chuckled.
“I want to get home.” Y/n accentuated every syllable.
“I know, I do too. What’s going on up here?” Matty tapped slowly on her forehead, looking at Y/n feeling his heart full.
“You, fucking me.” Matty took a sharp breath, trying to control himself. He knew her better than anyone.
“Y/n.” he said in a warning tone.
“Who was the bitch?”
“Are you jealous, Y/l/n?” he asked, mimicking her question about Edward.
“Whatever.”
Y/n let go of his hand, making him feel cold all of a sudden. She started walking away, typing into the screen of her phone to get a car that could drive them home. Matty trotted to reach her.
“My love.” he whispered into the back of her neck. Y/n wanted to prevent the quivering taking over her limbs, although it was hard to stop it when Matty was the cause of it. “He was Ross’s date.”
“Well, she was trying to fuck you. Ross deserves better.” he snorted, loving this side of her.
“I like it when you get territorial over me.” he left a chaste kiss on her shoulder, watching a car approach them.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------
Home sweet home
During all the way home, Matty didn’t try anything. Y/n moved on the seat beside Matty, feeling his hot hand resting on her knee, but doing nothing she wanted him to actually do. She was aware he noticed her little sounds protesting, trying to gain his attention, although Matty maintained the composure until the front door closed down with a big sound.
He was all over her when her feet were out of the high heels, the insufferable dress laughing at his eagerness. Without a word, Matty took Y/n by her hips, moving her backwards until her back was against the wall of the corridor.
His eyes following hers glanced down at his lips, wetting hers in anticipation.
“What do you want, princess?” his voice low and raspy, sending a ray of pleasure down towards her pulsing clit. Matty’s hands keeping her still.
“You.”
“What about me?” Y/n whined as a protest, moving her head from side to side. “Come on, you can do words.”
“Please.”
“Tell me what you want, baby.” Matty placed his right hand on her neck, pressing slightly to distract her even more.
“Touch me.”
“I’m touching you.”
“Jerk.”
Matty tightened his grip around her neck, “None of that.” Y/n glanced at his orbs, with hers tearful by frustration.
“Play with my tits, Matty.”
“Anything more?”
“Touch me down there, fuck me…please, anything…I just need you.” Y/n panted and cried out, chocking with her saliva, being unable to sound collected as she wanted.
Matty took his hands far from her neck. Without waiting a second, he pushed the dress until the upper half pooled around her hips. He looked up, lowering his face to be in front of her chest. He found her eyes when his mouth opened and then closed down around her right nipple. Y/n felt a wave of relief, of pleasure taking over her. After so many hours waiting for him, his mouth on her tits was going to make her explode in her place. Her left hand went directly to the back of his head, pushing it further into her chest.
“More, please.”
Her boyfriend let her nipple go with a wet sound, going to give attention to the other. His eyes closing by the pleasure of finally having his girlfriend bare before him. His lips trailed down, leaving a wet trace all around her tit, meanwhile he stopped from time to time to nibble on the soft skin.
Matty moved a little back, taking her boobs between his big hands, squeezing them together. He was obsessed with her boobs, always and forever.
Y/n pushed her thighs together, giving some type of attention to her clit. “Baby.” she whimpered, tugging on his curls, making Matty moaned without caring since they were home. “Oh, yes…Matty-”
He was still too entranced about her tits to listened anything else. Matty stared at them, wetting his digits, so he could draw circles around her sensible nipples. His simple act was meet by a loud moan from Y/n, feeling her insides burn.
“You’re so hot, my love.” Matty buried his face in her boobs, not escaping the thought of his dick between them. His groaning and his compliment made Y/n arch her back with pleasure.
“And you’re so good at this.”
“Tell me what you need.” Matty said before flattening his tongue, passing it through her nipples repeatedly.
“I need to get out of this dress.” Y/n tried to push it down her hips, Matty helped her.
Matty took a minute to admire his girlfriend, standing at the entrance of their shared house almost naked, with the thong covering almost nothing.
“Up. Now.” Matty wasn’t playing any more, he needed to taste her as soon as possible.
He waited until he heard Y/n entering their room and proceed to follow her. Matty skipped a couple of steps, jumping upstairs.
When he opened the door, Y/n was resting in all her glory in the middle of their bed; all naked, finally. Matty touched his hard dick through his trousers.
“Such a good girl you are.” he stated.
The singer moved to the feet of the bed, taking off his shirt slowly at the same time his eyes found hers. She was waiting for him, ready to welcome the singer. Matty undid the belt and opened his zip slowly.
“Matty.”
“Quiet, dove.”
He pushed his trousers all the way down, leaving them there without caring. Matty was still wearing his boxers when he lingered above Y/n body. His fingers founding her lower lip.
“Open.” so she did.
Matty let two of his digits inside her mouth. Y/n made a big show about sucking his digits, enjoying how his pupils grew a side due to lust.
“Enough.” he said, taking them out.
The tip of his fingers traced all the way down towards where she needed him most, making a stop to touch her breasts again. Instinctively, Y/n opened her legs for him when his hand pressed her hip down towards the mattress.
Matty lowered himself enough to be face to face with her pussy. The sight in front of him made his dick twitch, and his mouth watered. He left a few kissing on the soft skin of her thigh. “Were you this wet all night?” Y/n nodded, unable to talk when his mouth was so close and so far away. “Words, Y/n.” he bit down on her skin hard.
“Yes!” she moaned.
“Poor thing.” Matty let his mouth fell on her slit without more interactions.
She was his favourite flavour. He sucked slightly on her clit, making her yelp and push her hips slightly up, so Matty secured her legs with his arms around them, keeping her open before him.
Y/n was feeling faster the knot on the lower part of her belly. Matty wasn’t having mercy with her, sucking on her clit or letting his tongue penetrate her. After an entire night, hours without end, for him to touch her and find release once and for all, Y/n played at the precipice of her high.
“Oh, fuck! I’m-”
Matty pushed back before she could end her sentence, and Y/n protested in the absence of his mouth. His stubble shinning with her juices streaming down his chin.
He smiled at her, wicked, “Sorry, were you about to cum, baby girl?”
“Matty!”
Y/n tried to push him down with her hands on top of his head, although Matty was sterned about it, “Keep your hands up, Y/n.”
“Please, let me cum.” her mind was foggy, her eyes were closing down on their own. Y/n felt her body move without being able to help it, control was beyond her now.
“Beg for it.” Matty let his middle finger circle around her clit.
“Please.”
“I can’t hear you.”
Y/n screamed louder, “Please, Matty!!”
“So beautiful when you beg for me.” he let two digits inside her sweet cunt, falling further until his mouth was sucking again on her throbbing clit.
Y/n felt a tingling sensation starting on her feet and hands, moving closer and closer to the middle of herself. Matty was setting a delicious tempo, driving her even more insane. Y/n’s blood pumping all around her body, at the same time she sensed her hips move, trying to match Matty’s mouth. The feeling crept all the way towards her belly, sending her finally into a trance that erupted all around her, making her see all black and stars.
Y/n’s moans were music to his ears. Matty helped her surf her high, trusting his fingers inside her while his eyes focused on her face contract with pleasure. The pleasure he was imparting on her.
Once she was down again, he moved to be chest to chest with her again. He brushed her wet hair back, Y/n looked at him in awe.
“Hey.” he whispered.
“Hello.”
“You alright?”
Y/n blushed a little, “more than that.”
Matty let their lips connect on a sweet kiss, still touching the side of her face to calm her down.
“I’ll go and find a cloth to clean you up, okay?” Matty moved backwards.
“No.” she protested.
“Yes, baby.”
“But you…” Y/n looked down to his boxers.
“I can wait for tomorrow.”
“I want-”
Matty interrupted her, “I’m okay, I promise.”
“Matty.” Y/n insisted.
He came closer, reassuring her, “All I care is for you to be satisfied…it’s getting late, and I’ve tired you down. We have all tomorrow to continue, okay?” he gripped her neck, talking slowly to not overwhelmed her.
“I’m not happy about it, but okay. I love you.” she whispered.
“I love you so much, baby.”
Matty left a few more kisses around her face and neck, detaching himself from her body to walk out of the room.
To be continue...
#matty healy#matty healy fic#the 1975#matty healy x reader#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy smut#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fic rec#matty x reader#matty the 1975#matty healy imagine
364 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Same Damn Thing (collab with @sycophanticsolipsism)
Here’s part 5, can’t believe we’ve only got two parts left! Thank you to everyone for your likes and reblogs and kudos and feedback, can’t tell you how much it motivates us and how much we appreciate it. It truly lifts our spirits so thank you thank you. The most thanks to @sycophanticsolipsism for supporting my sorry ass through a writer’s block, this thing would probably still have like 100 words without you!
If you need to catch up, check out the masterlist.
Warnings: MDNI, smut, angst, probably some typos
Part 5: If I Could Go Back To That Evening We Met…
“I’d kill to go back to that evening we met. Trembling hands as I’d ask for your number again, you saw me different then…when I held your heart in my hand” - Lewis Capaldi
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Nobody on the flight is happy to be leaving the magic of Rome, clutching their Prosecco and pecorino Romano from duty free as if it will evaporate upon takeoff. Nobody except Val, that is. She is buzzing, fidgety, can’t get out of this goddamn country fast enough. She has been in constant motion since the moment she’d woken up this morning.
Val’s had her share of mornings (less than some of her friends but more than she likes to admit) where she woke up disoriented and hungover, unhappy with where she was and a little foggy on how she got there. But this morning? This one was by far the worst, because she didn’t wake up next to a strange guy wearing one sock drooling on her shoulder. No, instead it was Matty - adorable, inconvenient, sexy Matty. By one night stand standards, it was probably the safest she’d ever been. And yet it was the most reckless, brainless thing she’d ever done.
‘It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.’ She’d repeated it to herself over and over - during her shower, throughout the most chaotic packing job of her life, and all the way to the airport. But no matter how much Val tried, her treacherous bitch of a brain would not let it go. She rocks up to the gate after boarding has begun, sliding into her seat at the front of the plane (she’d used the few minutes waiting for a taxi at the hotel to switch her seat), keeping her head low and her sunglasses on (she takes back all the times she previously called people wearing sunglasses on planes pretentious twats. She gets it now). She’d held her breath as he boarded, pretending to be asleep when she saw his eyes searching for her. Her noise cancelling headphones provide little relief from the rattling around in her head. Now that she’s stopped, albeit forcibly, it’s harder to keep the thoughts she’s desperate to avoid at bay.
She catches up on texts as the plane taxies, until her friend Dina responds to a picture of Barry Keoghan in the group chat with a resounding “fuck me” and Val’s transported back to the moment Matty whispered that in her ear as he slid into her for the first time. Opening her email once they’re airborne, her inbox is flooded with emails from him from the last few days, running commentary on the conference sessions they’d attended separately. Reading his cute ramblings on the boring presenters and arrogant question askers felt like a shiv jabbed through her ribs. Finally, she gives up, slamming the laptop shut and closing her eyes. Maybe if she’s unconscious she won’t think about it.
If her life were a movie, Val would have stirred to light stubble nuzzling her neck, his hand snaking down her front, his gruff voice whispering filthy nothings in her ear. But life wasn’t a movie. Instead, the blare of the wakeup call had jolted them awake, her elbow colliding with his jaw as they both scrambled to answer it. By the time Matty’d thanked the hotel staff with broken Italian, Val was already in her jeans, searching for her earring while avoiding looking at him completely.
“Val…” His voice is low, shaky, uncertain, like he’s approaching a caged animal. Val’s heard him employ that tone a hundred times before - with clients and colleagues when he wants to win them over, with their uni friends when he was trying to mediate a dispute between them, with Marin when she was pushing herself too hard toward the end. But he’s never used it with Val before, until now. He thinks it’s full of charm and confidence and take-charge-ness. But what it feels like right now is patronizing. It’s the first time Val fucking hates the sound of his voice.
There’s a twinge in her neck she’s not sure the cause of as she whips her head around. “Don’t give me that tone.”
Matty physically recoils, blinking stupidly back at her. “I don’t know -“ He looks down at the bed before standing, moving to the chair in the room, maybe to put more distance between them, escape the scene of the crime.
“Yea you do!”
“Look, I’m confused too but…” But she isn’t. Confused that is. She may not be on board with all her actions over the last several hours, but in this moment, she is in full control of how she feels.
Angry, that’s how Val feels. Angry at herself for being an idiot cliche who slept with her boss. Beyond annoyed at him for not just leaving her the fuck alone to languish on Richard’s team all those months ago. Furious with whatever early Roman asshole invented wine in the first place, with its inhibition-altering goodness. And don’t even get her started on Marianne, who landed them in this joint-room trope predicament in the first place. Yep, her shit list is growing by the minute. She would have NEVER done this at home. Never. She needs to get back - to her bed, to her routine, to her goddamn sanity. Oh, she is clear on her emotions alright.
“Oh, I’m not. I know what this was, no need to explain it.” Sheets and pillows are flying now as the search continues for her earring. “Listen, we can’t miss our flight and I need to find my earring. I can’t lose it, it’s—“
“Marin’s, I know.”
“Of course you do.” She’s looking in the mini fridge now, which she knows is ridiculous, but she just has to keep moving. “Obviously, you’d remember your girlfriend’s ear—“
Matty’s chair scrapes against the floor with a harsh sound, drawing Val’s eyes over to his body. Bad idea, as he sits up abruptly and leans forward. “Listen, I don’t know what you heard about us.” Us. The word hits her like a visceral gut punch, a dull ache radiating out from her chest. It’s one thing to think it and another thing altogether to hear it. Her worn patience snaps, she can’t sit here with the smell of sex still lingering in the air and think of them. She just can’t. “It’s not what you th—“
“Aaah, got it!” Fuck, thank god. Her shirt she can do without but there was no way Val was leaving without that earring. She readies to flee, gathering her bag and looking around for her key card… before it settles on her that she’s in her room. She can’t leave, at least not without looking even more erratic than she feels. Plus, they really need to get a fucking move on to the airport and he’s still shuffling by the bed in just his pants.
She pauses, back turned to him as she speaks. “Listen” she repeats - it’s what her mum would refer to as a verbal tick, “umm, I’m going to hop in the shower, we’ve really got to go and I’m sure you have to pack and—” she’s moving toward the bathroom now, and the blessed door that will put a much-needed barrier between them so she can wash his scent off, and catch her breath and think. Something she clearly wasn’t doing last night. “And I forgot to pick up one last bag of coffee for my neighbor so I’m gonna run to that place down the square. I’ll just meet you at the gate.” The last part is thrown over her shoulder as she slams the door shut, not broaching any argument. She presses her back to the door, holding her breath, hanging on to her resolve by a thread. After eighteen seconds (her youth swim training finally came in handy), she hears the rustling of his clothes, the click of the lock, and then nothing. The sound that she makes as she finally takes a deep breath sounds like relief, and yet it doesn’t feel like it.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
When they land, Val is off the plane like a shot, power walking through border control, not looking back. She implores every God she’s ever heard of - she even throws Dumbledore in there for good measure - that her suitcase is already waiting for her at baggage claim, assisting her quick getaway from the walking reminder in a wrinkled black suit and raybans somewhere behind her. But she must have exhausted all her luck between rounds two and three last night because the conveyer belt hasn’t even started moving yet (fucking Heathrow). He catches up to her a few minutes later, which is unfortunate because she was hoping to not see him until sometime next month. Maybe year. Decade. Never? She knows she’s being childish but at least now her mood matches her actions. Her boss! Her sister’s something. Her friend.
The look he levels her with is heavy with impatience. Oh, he’s waiting for her to say something? Fat chance, talking to him is what got her into this mess in the first place. Val talked herself right out of her senses and into his bed. Her bed. A bed. Speaking of, she wants to get to hers so she can crawl into it and die. “Where the hell are these bags?!” Mumbling to herself as a hideous green paisley suitcase makes a full go around the luggage turn style again before Matty seems to get fed up with their verbal game of chicken, taking a deep breath and letting a long sigh preview his words. “Well I guess I’ll sta-“
“Matty?” A high-pitched voice calls from somewhere behind them. Saved! Maybe there’s some magic left for her after all.
He whirls around to the voice, which is attached to a striking woman who Val does not recognize. Probably an enterprising networker from the conference. Now’s her chance to back away, book it to the other end of the carousel. Hell, maybe she should just abandon the bag, she can always come back and get it later. Having decided on letting present Val off the hook and leaving future Val to deal with the postponed chat with Matt, she turns to leave - when the woman steps into (invades is more like it from where Val’s standing) Matty’s personal space, confidentially, almost intimately. Val is glued to the spot, curiosity getting the best of her.
“Cheryl…hi, what are you - it’s nice to - aah” He awkwardly goes to hug the woman but they get tangled as they lean in, barely manage a weird half hug, half cheek kiss. Awkward is not a trait she’s used to seeing on him, and it really doesn’t suit.
Val doesn’t know if it’s years of computational science training or the hours of true crime documentaries she’s devoured but something has her mind whirring, interest piqued, collecting data on this new person. Tall, brunette, well dressed, older (she can’t be more than Matty’s age but Val is feeling petty all of a sudden).
“So that’s why you’ve been so hard to reach lately. Long trip?” Cheryl’s eyes dart towards her and then back to Matty, clearly content to not make Val’s acquaintance. She’s toe to toe with Matty now, which Val knows from no more legitimate source than Cosmo is a sign that they’re clearly comfortable in each other’s personal space. Physical space. Val doesn’t like where this is going but can’t seem to look away.
“Ehm no, just Rome. Conference.” He clears his throat into his fist and begins rocking on his heels in a way she’s never seen him do before. Who the fuck is this woman? “You?”
“Showcase in Sweden,” Cheryl says as if this explains everything. It doesn’t, not nearly enough. Be more specific Cheryl, you’re not giving me a lot to work with here! “But I’m home for a few weeks. We should…ummm…get together again, last time was… fun.” She punctuates the last part, dragging a manicured nail down Matty’s chest. Val knows later (once she’s home and showered and slept and sane again) she’ll admire Cheryl’s boldness, wish they were friends so she could ask her how she seems to manage more confidence in that one finger than Val seems to have in her whole body.
For his part, Matty does finally step back - or maybe he just loses his equilibrium in the presence of Miss Congeniality (she can’t help it) - and collides with Val, startling as if noticing her for the first time. And in this moment, the data set is complete - she doesn’t need to gather any more information to come to her conclusion - they’ve fucked. Recent enough that Cheryl doesn’t hesitate in initiating contact. Intimate contact that had him seemingly forgetting all about Val. The woman he slept with last night!
Keep moving.
Before he can move to introduce her or address her or do anything with her, she spots her bag, lunges for it, and leaves without another word.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Keep moving.
There’s a Diet Coke stain on Val’s sweater, a general stale smell in the air that she’s pretty sure is coming from her, and she’s stiff and sore in areas she hasn’t been in a while. But she can’t go home. Because home has the couch where they sat till her head ached and back screamed, pulling and fixing data and railing against their colleagues for fucking up. It’s got the blanket she’d caught him wiping his eyes on as they watched Manchester By the Sea together. And the fucking grease stain on the edge of her carpet that he didn’t think she knew about from the pizza he’d dropped on it. (She might have to burn that rug, or sell it.) And the old journal tucked away in her closet filled with her thoughts of him that show just how stupid she’d been for him and for how long.
So no, Val doesn’t go home. When the cab driver asks where to, she rattles off the first place that comes to mind, dragging her suitcase behind her out of the backseat and into the cinema. The obviously-stoned teenager behind the counter doesn’t bat an eye when she asks him for one ticket to the “least fucking romantic thing you’ve got going here,” punching a few buttons before spitting out a stub and receipt for the latest installment in the Saw franchise. But not even gore and guts can keep her mind from drifting. The torture on screen ramps up - Val wants to picture Matty groaning in agony as she tortures him for all the shit he’s put her through today but all her mind can seem to conjure are his moans of pleasure.
She’s pictured him between her thighs so many times that she’s probably imagined every move he’s making tonight, from the moment he started trailing his lips down past her breasts. The way his mouth licks at each of her ribs as he slinks down her body seems familiar. And Val knows that she’s pictured him licking his bottom lip the way he does now as he slides her panties to the side with his finger. But all of these fantasies, she realizes now, have been devoid of the single hottest thing she could never imagine. His sounds. Because the gutteral groan that escapes him as he licks into her for the first time is like nothing she’s ever heard before. It must have surprised him too because he pauses after that first taste, resting his forehead against her pelvis, heavy pants tickling her skin. Val’s hands instinctively find his hair, raking through it, fingertips massaging the top of his head. She’s a little uncertain why he paused but she can’t help but stop and appreciate the intimacy of this moment, something new for them even after all their years of knowing each other.
“Christ,” he mutters, rolling his head slightly back and forth as he plants lazy kisses wherever his mouth lands, seemingly unhurried. But not knowing what he’s thinking begins to make her anxious. Was there something wrong? She’d waxed recently (not that it mattered and fuck him if he thought it did)…right? Yes, yes definitely. Maybe it wasn’t his thing, had she pushed him to do it? Oh god, was she the problem?
Her hand slid from his hair to his jaw, trying to coax him back up her body. She gasps at the quick snatch of her wrist, firm but gentle, his large hand encircling her wrist easily. He slides her other one alongside it, pinning both of her wrists in place easily on her left side.
“I just….you don’t have to….listen, just come up and we’ll…”
“Val?”
“Yea?”
“You are the fucking best thing I’ve ever tasted. Now stop thinking and let me enjoy it.”
She walks out halfway through the movie, her fickle mind unable to give into the distraction for long. There’s a cafe right next to the theater and Val ignores the annoyed glances she gets for hogging a table meant for two. But she needs room for her baggage. ‘Fitting’, she thinks.
She’s on her second latte and third episode of Derry Girls when her mum calls. Normally, she’d put her off until she’s in a better mood to chat, has more energy to pretend. One of the hazards of having a psychoanalyst for a mother is that every interaction can feel like a session, unable to avoid her trained instincts. But she’d already dodged her calls twice and Val is certain that even though her mother knows she was traveling with Matty (her mother was so relieved when Val said Matty was going, you’d have thought he was a 6’5 bodyguard instead of a 5’10 casual exerciser), if she doesn’t pick up a third time Gwen will start to panic. After what her mother’s been through, she tries not to blame her.
When Gwen asks how the trip went, Val picks her words carefully, trying to muster believable excitement behind it. “Good!”
“Really? It doesn’t sound good?” Clearly, her acting needs work.
“No, it was.” She tries again, hoping the raised octaves in her voice would make up for the lack of it in her mood.
“You and Matty were in Rome for a week and it was only good? I find that hard to believe.”
And she doesn’t know if it’s the sudden softness in her mothers’ usually firm voice or her own jet lag but Val feels the dam crack and break easier than it has in years. And it’s not a dainty crack either, where a tear slides down her cheek accompanied by one of those cute hiccups. No, Val is not a cute crier, never has been. It’s full on sobs, her splotchy face screwed up and her attempts to breath turning into snot-logged guffaws. She’s word vomiting her train-wrecked thoughts to her mother, trying to hide her teary face behind her crumpled napkin. The guy at the table next to her - some young college kid who probably hasn’t lived long enough to make the idiotic mistake of wanting someone you can’t have - tries to appear casual as he side-eyes her, giving her increasingly dirty looks before he slides his laptop and book off the table and jogs out of the place. ‘Yea kid, run so you don’t have to see what your life will look like in ten years,’ she thinks, reaching for the unused napkin on his table and blowing her nose loudly.
Val spares her the more salacious details but knows Gwen gets the gist. Silence follows, for so long that Val pulls her phone out of her bag to check the connection is still good.
“He calls me every year, you know.” Her mother’s voice is soft, vulnerable.
Of all the things she expected her mother to say, this was not it. “Who? Matty?!”
“Yesss darling, Matty. Every year around the anniversary.” Val rolls her eyes, of course he would. He couldn’t just make it easy for her and be a dickhead she shouldn’t have feelings for. Her mother’s voice is still flooding her earbuds “…started out with a card the first year but then he missed the second one and called all flustered from some party boat…in Ibiza, I think.” Gwen’s laugh is another thing that Val doesn’t hear that much of, wishes she heard it more. “Said he was rubbish with anything analogue and asked if I wouldn’t mind if he called from then on.”
Val grips her napkin, busying herself with shredding it into pieces. “He always asks about you. Bless him, probably thought he was being so coy, but it was obvious that he was digging for info on you.”
“Me?” The shrillness in her voice attracts a glare from the guy who’s taken over the recently-vacated table. She glares right back. She can be hysterical if she wants to here, it isn’t a bloody library.
“Don’t sound so surprised. Of course, you. Who else?” There’s rustling on the other end, the unmistakable whimper of her parent’s golden retriever as he scratches at the back door, desperate to go out. Val is suddenly homesick in a way she hadn’t been in over a decade. “I thought you all had something going at school before…”
“No, mum.” Val interrupts before that thought can even fully form, can’t take hearing someone else verbalize it. “It was him and Marin…”
The sharp bark of laughter cuts her off. “Marin? No darling, definitely not.”
The confidence with which her mother says this should make Val feel better, someone outside of her own thoughts refuting her worst nightmare. But instead, her hackles rise, instantly petulant at being so easily dismissed. Her next words are biting.
“Well, I was there so I think I would know.”
“You certainly know a lot.” Great, her mother’s passive voice. It’s a reliable tool for de-escalation, but all it seems to do for Val is piss her off more.
“Well, how would you know? You weren’t here!“ She hates how easily she reverts to sounding like a child with her mum.
“Because she told me things.” The unlike you goes unsaid.
“I-“
“Honey, you’ve always kept things close to the vest. Ever since you were little.” Her mother anticipates her defensiveness “It’s ok, it’s just your nature. But it wasn’t the same for your sister. She told me eeeeeverything. Including the fact that she was asexual.”
Val’s cheeks flame in the way they always did whenever either of her parents even said the word sex. “Wait, what?”
“Yes darling.” She says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“No, I-“
“Honestly Val, it’s perfectly normal, some people just aren’t driven by carnal ins-“ At that word, Val is transported back to the mortifying moment she’d asked her mother the definition of carnal at the ripe old age of 7, having come across it while trying to read one of her Nan’s trashy paperbacks with Fabio on the cover. Her dad had been livid but her mum had simply sat Val down and explained the birds and the bees. Val had never asked for a clarification on another word since.
She’d very much like to not relive that whole ordeal now, or ever again. “Mum, I know what asexual means. I just, well…” Val pauses, biting her lip in contemplation unsure of what it is that confuses her about the finding. Her sister was allowed to keep things for herself. Val had obviously never told Marin about her feelings for Matty. Thou can covet thy sister’s boyfriend as long as you don’t tell anyone…that’s how the commandment went, right? But this, this was news that would have changed Val’s whole world that first year of uni. Maybe her whole life. And she’d kept it from her! Just because Val didn’t have a right to be angry doesn’t mean she wasn’t anyway .“I guess I don’t know why she didn’t tell me.”
“Oh bug, I think she would have. If she had had the time.” Gwen’s voice goes soft again in the way she only gets when talking about Marin. Or her own parents. Val hates making her mum sad.
“Well, good to know, I guess. Still doesn’t mean he didn’t fancy her.” The sigh on the other end of the line
“Honey, this isn’t really about your sister, is it? It’s about you. I mean, it’s fine to be guarded.” ‘Well, thanks for your permission mum.’ “But if you like someone, sometimes you, well, you’ve got to go out on a limb. Do something that you can’t walk back.”
“Uh uh Val, eyes on me baby,” Matty’s thumb taps at her hairline, bringing her eyes back to his. “There she is, that’s my girl.” His smile is so soft, so incongruous with the harsh snap of his hips moments before. He dips his head, nose nuzzling hers as his lips skim over her Cupid’s bow. “I want to see you.”
Well, she’d definitely done that.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The elevator dings as it arrives at her floor, Val’s mind barely registering it as she stares at the hideous bargain carpet that covers every inch of her building. Two days ago, her Mum’s revelations would have had her spinning. But today, they just make her more tired. Tired of trying to decipher what it all meant - every word, every action. Tired of carrying around hope for all these years, foolish, unfounded hope. Hope could be heavy and she’d been carrying it since an early age, when Hollywood had filled her brain with stories of men who gave the smallest crumbs of affection and the women who devoured them like they were full feasts, never giving up and somehow always getting the guy. Beauty and the Beast, My Best Friends Wedding, Jerry Maguire, Bridget Jones’, Sleepless in Seattle. And those were just a few of her favorites growing up. But what those movies didn’t show was the nights filled with insomnia, the self-doubt, the second guessing yourself, the exhaustion that comes with taking every interaction with someone you would die to have - literally every single second together - and reliving it over and over again looking for the seIcret subtexts that would reveal how he felt about you. Wondering, confused, if it was love or if you weren’t just mistaking kindness for care.
Well, Val was officially giving up. Throwing in the towel. She couldn’t do it any more. She was no Hollywood heroine, she was just a mere woman, and she was tired. Of burying her feelings under shy smiles, then friendship, then a night with him that had only made the idea of friendship impossible. Of wondering if she was wasting time pining for someone when she didn’t even know how he felt. I mean, clearly he was attracted to her but just because he wanted her didn’t mean he wanted to be with her; just because he wasn’t in love with Marin didn’t mean that he was in love with Val. Contrary to how she sometimes acted, she knew she was not the only person of interest on the planet and he could have anyone he wanted.
And that was all just the personal anxiety. She hadn’t even begun to process how stupid this all was for her professionally.
As she makes the turn down her hallway, her eyes are drawn to a body, slumped in front of the door to her apartment. Asleep? Dead? Several particularly grim facts about stalkers and serial killers flash through her mind before she clocks the curls, the scuffed shoes, the pack of cigarettes lying next to him he’d clearly taken out to smoke before he must have realized where he was. On instinct, hope rises in her chest before she slaps her palm over her heart, holding it at bay. No, that was enough of that.
She kicks at his shoe, startling him for the second time that day. “How long have you been here?”
He doesn’t respond as he clambers to his feet, eyes dragging to his suitcase as if to highlight the obvious answer.
“Ok, other question. What are you doing here?” It comes out breathier than intended but she is genuinely surprised. Thought he’d be off somewhere with that troll Cheryl (she is not proud of how her feminism utterly abandons her in this moment). That she’d at least have a few well-timed sick days to prepare before seeing him again.
“I’m uh…” The toe of his brogues scrape at the floor .Whatever he wants to say, it’s enough to make him anxious. Which is enough to make Val want to avoid it at all costs.
Summoning her self-preservation, she cuts him off. “Listen, maybe we should do this when we’ve both-“
“Goddamnit Val, for once, please shut up!” His voice explodes in the small space, her gaze immediately going over her shoulder to her neighbor’s door. The last thing she needs right now is a noise complaint. Matty itches at the skin around his throat, as if raising his voice at her is as foreign to do as it was to receive. “I’m sorry, I’m sor- I just, I can’t risk any confusion here. Just need to get this out. Need you to listen. For once.” The attempt at a joke lands with a thud.
“When I’ve tried to get this out…and, I, just, it gets fucked every time.” His breath is noticeably shaky, hands on his hips as he gazes at the floor. “And I’m sick of, well I’m not sick of trying cause I’ll do that, not afraid…but I’m sick of the…if only I’d been clearer, got it out faster….in that pub, and I just, can’t take it any more…”
She’s about to tell him she’s not following when he seems to gather that for himself, head lifting to meet her eyes. She’s never been great at eye contact, always hates how put on the spot she feels by it. On instinct, Val glances away, over his shoulder, somewhere safer. A blurred hand lifts in her periphery, hovering near her face but not touching it, until her gaze turns back to his. Reminding her of the eye contact he’d insisted on the night before, as he went down on her, as he slid into her, as she came on his cock and as she’d fallen asleep.
“Val, I’m crazy about you. Have been for years… and before you say it, Marin and I weren’t anything. Or nothing like you think… I loved her, sure. But not in the way I do you…”
Val’s heard the phrase about the world going sideways before but she’d never really appreciated what it meant until now. She swears her body actually tilts sideways until it feels like the handle of her suitcase is the only thing keeping her upright. And with her equilibrium goes her ability to think straight.
“From the moment I met you when you had just got accepted, there was just something… and then you were dating that prick Roger from the cricket team.” God, Val hadn’t thought of him in ages. She’d been using him, trying to get under him to get over Matty. “…kicking myself that I’d just assumed there’d be time, like you wouldn’t just get snatched up by someone—“
The sleep deprivation seems to pick that very moment to redouble its efforts - she can’t think fast enough to respond. To buy herself time, she vomits out the first thought in her head. “Why didn’t you say something? Back then?”
“What? Rock up to you on the first day ‘Hey Val, d’you remember me? From that one weekend we hung out? Will you please go out with me? Oh, let me help you unpack, show you how shitty the beds are...’” He scoffs, she fucking hates that. “C’mon, I’d like to think I’m better than that…”
Her eyes look away, not willing to admit he’s right.
“I don’t know if you remember that night…in the pub—“ He stops, the effort of self-editing written all over his face. “What the fuck am I—Of course, I know you remember, like, the shittiest night of your life but I meant right before, when you and I were— “
She’s not intentionally tuning him out but her brain is now unhinged, skipping around and ahead, trying to determine what conclusion he’s coming to. Because the truth is, even if he’s telling the truth (she knows he has no reason to lie about this but she still can’t comprehend this monumental fact that he’s liked her for, it sounds like, almost as long as she’s liked him...) she still can’t have him. Because as the personal anxiety begins to ebb in the face of his declaration, the professional anxiety seeps in to take its place. She knows how this would go. She trusts Matty, of course she does (even after all these years, she couldn’t imagine doing anything else). But in her experience, shit like this - a relationship with a coworker - doesn’t stay quiet, no matter how hard two people try. Someone catches her glance at him differently, he says her name a certain way and suddenly it’s all anyone can talk about. The rumor mill must be fed, anything to make the mundane office more interesting, the hours less boring. It’s not that she blames them, has even joined in in her weaker moments, feeling slightly gross as she listened to the latest gossip, just wanting to be part of the inner circle, to be included. But she’s seen what it does to women, it’s always the women that pay.
“So, you can choose not to give this a shot, but it won’t be because of some bullshit misunderstanding you have about me and Marin.” There’s that tone again, like he’s confident in the case he made, assured of its persuasiveness. But once again, he’s underestimated her.
“Marin isn’t the reason.” It’s clear that’s not what he was expecting her to say, he’s caught off guard, eyes flitting back and forth between hers as if trying to scan them. “Well, not entirely. Matty, you’re my boss…”
“I’m well aware, trust me. We can handle it. Or I can.” Her eyeroll is instinctual at this point, honed from years of listening to men brush away her valid concerns as if they were so obviously not an issue that it’s idiotic that she’d even been thinking about it. “It doesn’t matter, as long as we’re tog—“
“No, it does… matter, that is… Cause this won’t be a problem for you, but for me it will be. A big one. My reputation, my career. People will think I slept my way into every job opportunity from here on out…” Val crosses her arms in front of her chest to stop wringing of her hands.
Matty is shifting his weight from side to side, clearly uncomfortable with the way the conversation has veered off course. “No, they won’t… and if they do, I’d immediately address it. We’d report them! I’m not really a nobody here, y’know.”
“Oh great, I can hear people now. ‘There goes Matty, taking Val ‘under his wing’” the air quotes aren’t really needed with the sarcasm laced in her voice but it’s important to her he knows how much that idea offends her. “I fucking hate that phrase.”
The smell of his cologne tingles as he takes a step closer, that confidence back in his voice. “Listen, I’m not stupid enough to think that it’d be totally fair, or that there isn’t stuff we have to work out—" (he says stuff as though the problem was (is) a small glitch in the code and not a huge attack on her entire system, her career) “—but I am falling in love with you… I want to do that with you. Want to do everything with you,” he chuckles softly, peering into her eyes, “And I think you do too, or at least I would hope so.”
Her resolve is crumbling, she needs him to go away, leave her so she can fall apart in peace. “No.”
“No?” Matty rakes his hands through his hair, interlocking his hands behind his head, his biceps flexing in a way that Val can’t help but find hot.
“Matty, I…I am just…I can’t…I’ve worked too hard for everything I’m accomplishing now for it to be credited to you. It would kill me to have people think that.” She hates thinking out loud but her trusty brain-to-mouth filter is failing her right now. Thankfully, he fills in the gaps for her. “It’s not worth the risk—“ The words are said carelessly but she can’t stuff them back in.
“No, I think what you mean is I’m not worth the risk” He says, and on his face she can read all the hurt her simple denial has inflicted. She wishes he would understand, that he would just listen and see it from her perspective because when she puts it all down on paper…well— the cons outweigh the pros, and her lists have rarely ever failed her. What if they don’t work out? What if after all this time pining for each other, they go on a couple of dates and realize they’ve made a mistake? It’s not like they can walk this back. Data isn’t subjective, it’s objective, it’s rational, reliable. Everything that they are not right now. She’s about to summarize it for him, a task which would be made easier if she had time to write it out, organize it.
Her thoughts feel scattered. “I’m not saying—” but it doesn’t matter that she’s not organized because she doesn’t get far.
“Got it,” he cuts her off, voice suddenly gruff and cold. “I’m an idiot. Thought last night meant you were still mooning over me the way you used to—jokes on me, I guess.” It’s been a while since she’s seen him like this, wounded animal cruelly lashing out at a perceived attack. This Matty is an unpleasant addition.
“Oh, fuck off, sounds like you were pining right back. Not that you kept your bed cold waiting though, did you? Fucking Cheryl and…”
“Cheryl?! God you’re unbelievable” His bag slaps against his thigh as he hauls it over his shoulder violently. “Cheryl is nothing. She was a one night stand—“
“—so was I!” They are screaming now and Val is almost surprised that the landlord hasn’t already been called.
Val doesn’t have time to see his reaction before he moves past her to the elevator. “Your words, not mine” He bypasses the elevator altogether, slamming the door to the stairwell open and disappearing into it.
When she’s finally in her apartment, suitcase sprawled open in her living room and temporary bed made on her couch, she lets it wash over her. All the emotions she has kept in a vice like grip since the second her feet hit the floor this morning, or rather till her feet landed in the heap of denim where Matty’s jeans had landed the night before. Val wants to be proud of herself for cutting it off, not feeding the beast (figuratively or literally) but what she really feels is regret.
#run don’t walk fic rec#matty healy fanfiction#1975 fanfic#matty healy fanfic#matty healy smut#the 1975 fanfic#matty healy
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
matty healy
aches by 64yrsold
at your back door by werent-we-the-stars-in-heaven
blurb by steel-elle
bonfires by toomuchracket *
book by abiiors
chicken shop date by alovesreading, imagine_that_100 ♡
disconnected by not-alien-girl-v
galatea, take one by lottiecrabie
i know that i'll lose by sunset_in_my_veins
if you'd only come back to me by animatr0nic-he4rt
love it if we made it by imightgetbetter ♡
masterlist by toomuchracket
me by 64yrsold
nothing revealed in a common crisis by nriacc ♡
reckless serenade by sag3vrr *
request by abiiors
saccharine by 64yrsold
sally brown by woogitywoogityyy
settle down by noacfemcel
the birthday party by ughgoaway
the intimacy of being understood by justanamesstuff
when i found you, much younger than you are now by toomuchracket ♡
80 notes
·
View notes
Note
V do you know any sick fics you can recommend?
yes!! hold on
an encounter - @64yrsold
domesticated - @cowboylor
miserable together - me :D (i really like this one hehe)
nurse matty - @something-bout-the-weather
this flatmate!matty blurb // and also this one // d word, need i say more :D - @toomuchracket
this one (hangover) - me :D
and also this one that i wrote last night and thought it was very sweet
lemme know if any links are broken/don't work and i'll redo them <3
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
mia’s masterlist 🪩🍄🎧🧃🩹🔮
requests: closed! | minors don’t interact!
matty healy x reader
i still feel everything when you are near (angst)
when we are together (fluff) - dad!matty request
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Matty and Y/N were cuddled up in bed together, wrapped up in each other's arms. They had spent the day out and about, exploring the city and enjoying each other's company. Now, they were exhausted and ready to relax.
As they lay there, Matty couldn't help but admire Y/N's beauty. She was wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, her hair tousled and messy from the day's adventures. He couldn't help but smile as he gazed down at her.
"You're just the cutest," he said, his voice filled with adoration.
Y/N blushed, feeling a warmth spread through her body. "You're the only one who is allowed to say that," she replied, grinning up at him.
Matty laughed, running his fingers through her hair. "I like that rule," he said, pulling her closer to him.
#matty healy imagine#Matty#matty healy#healy#matty the 1975#matty healy drabble#matty healy fluff#imagines#romance#fanfiction#fluff#imagine#blurb#drabble#send recs please#matty healy x reader#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x you
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
She showed me what love is
I'm actin' like I know myself
Oh, in case you didn't notice
Oh, oh, I would go blind just to see you
I'd go too far just to have you near
In my soul, I've got this feeling, I
Didn't know until I seen ya
#2014 tumblr#grunge#aesthetic#1975#the 1975#matty healy#matt healy#the 1975 lyrics#2014tumblr#2014#bring back 2014#i miss 2014#lyrics#quotes#milk lyrics#the 1975 happiness#2014 indie#music#music recs please
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Ultimate Recs List
Welcome to my Matty Healy Fic Recommendations!
As always- NO MINORS ALLOWED // 18+ ONLY
There must be close to a billion fics that I have read and adored, but this is my ULTIMATE list of faves- the ones that come immediately to mind when I think of my favourite kinds of Matty fics.
Happy reading, y'all! <3 <3 <3
saccharine- by @64yrsold (yes, literally every single one of them)
don't fuck the line cooks- by @lottiecrabie
pray for my soul- by @lottiecrabie
illicit affairs- by @kscheibles
hotline- by @cowboylor
i'll do anything that you wanna- by @toomuchracket
A Christmas and Too Much Wine- by @nicolascagesbussy
louder- by @cowboylor
there's sooooo many more I need to add but this took me way too long and I want to sneak in a little more writing before bed but i'll add more soon <3
129 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lou's Fic Recommendations
So, lots of people have been asking for my recommendations for fics, now, there is so so so many that I love, if you want to find more I always tag my reblogs with "tillthelandslide fic rec : ross macdonald" or ": george daniel" or " : matty healy". BUT, these are some of my all time fave fics and fave writers tbh...
Ross:
Mirror Ball by @poisonmedaddy13
Gold Rush by @hypersonic04
Three's A Party by @abiiors
Obsessed by @poisonmedaddy13
Wear My Name Around Your Neck by @procrastinatinglikeapro
History and Drama (pt.1) (pt.2) by @writingchalamet
Quarter Past Midnight by @alovesreading
Begging For Trouble by @procrastinatinglikeapro
Happiness by @toomuchracket
Matty:
Pray For My Soul by @lottiecrabie
Politics of Polite Interpersonal Conduct by @solipsisticno1
Can't Catch a Break by @procrastinatinglikeapro
After (after party) by @theseventyfive
atpoaim by @lastnightwaskindofablur
please, take my hand by @ughgoaway
All I Need by @justanamesstuff
The intimacy of being understood by @justanamesstuff
Rockstar girlfriend by @lottiecrabie
Soft Sound by @byyourside28
George:
Truth or Dare by @abiiors
Wear My Name Around Your Neck by @procrastinatinglikeapro
Three's A Party by @abiiors
Midnight, car lights by @abiiors
Dress (pt. 1) (pt. 2) by @kennedy-brooke
#tillthelandslide fic rec#tillthelandslide fic rec : ross macdonald#tillthelandslide fic rec : matty healy#tillthelandslide fic rec : george daniel#the 1975#ross macdonald#matty healy#george daniel#ross macdonald fanfiction#matty healy fanfiction#george daniel fanfiction#ross macdonald fan fic#matty healy fan fic#george daniel fan fic
191 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗'𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑
𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 / 𝘵𝘩𝘦 1975
#tay's playlist#the 1975#heart out#iliwysfyasbysuoi#matt healy#matty healy#matty the 1975#the 1975 band#the 1975 noacf#1975#1975 band#grunge#grunge aesthetic#soft aesthetic#vibes#music recommendation#song recommendation#song recs#music recs#playlist#my playlist#aesthetic#moodboard#heart out the 1975#the 1975 album#1975 album#fav songs#my fav songs#fav music#fav bands
91 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can u recommend any ongoing gatty fics?
I need more of ur writing!!
Aw anon! That’s very lovely of you! I know, I need to get my arse in gear! I promise I’ll be back - I am physically unable to give up writing about these idiots 🤣
What Gatty would I recommend that’s currently ongoing? Obv I have to shout out my bestie @drinkurkombucha who is about to drop a new chapter of Living With George and it’s incredible! You will love it! @trumanblaccc’s fic Aphasia is really good as well! @applesfallingfromblondehair has a new fic as well that I haven’t read but their writing is always good. If you want to try something different @allylikethecat has about twelvety billion fics on the go! Their stuff offers something else- I’ve never been into mpreg or omegaverse but curious to see where they take all of this!
Finally look up this older writer on AO3- they’re not active any more and their stuff has got buried a bit but it’s amazing!
#I will be back#not in a threatening terminator sense#life has been insane#but I miss fic#the 1975#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 fanfiction#matty healy#matty healy fanfiction#1975 smut#gatty#fic recs
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey ally! who are your favorite fic authors? i need more recs and i love your style so i thought i’d ask and i know you said that you write things that you’d want to read much love ❤️
Aww thank you so much! I’m so happy and touched to hear that you’re enjoying my work! I will be perfectly honest with you- I read A LOT of Men’s Hockey RPF which I am going to assume you are not looking for at the moment 😂 (But if you want any MattDrai recs hit me up I am OBSESSED)
In terms of The 1975, there are so many talented writers in this fandom and it makes me really happy that everyone is able to find their own little niche.
As a primarily Gatty reader the ones that instantly come to mind for me, and whose work I always go back to are:
Drinkurkombucha - Your New Aesthetic is incredible and I just finished Kairos and it was 10/10 - I never thought I would be enthusiastically consuming Gratty content but I was so happy I did after reading it!
Vinylandcoffeecollection - Poses is one of my favorite fics ever - I love the little visits we get into the Poses universe every holiday season!
Sundrownsthehouse - Take This Pain and Give It a Name has made me feel so many things! She is so incredibly talented and such a kind soul! I can’t wait for her next update!
Oceanxeyes - I might be bias (because HORSES) but I love how much equine therapy is featured in Surrounded by Heads and Bodies
Lilyjuleen - might be a controversial take because they write Matty / Taylor but I really enjoy their work - A Sea is a Place Within in particular was really good in my opinion if that pairing is something you are open to!
I am also OBSESSED with the work of this anonymous writer - their fics can all be found in their end notes.
I hope this I what you were looking for! I know I can’t hold a candle to any of these fics mentioned - but they are some of my favorites and if you haven’t read them, I hope you enjoy them too! (Sorry this got long!)
❤️Ally
#allylikethecat#ask ally#anon ask#fanfiction#matty healy rpf#the 1975 rpf#matty healy fanfiction#fanfic#ally's fic recs#there are so many other talented people im sure im missing#but these are the fics i always go back to in the fandom#gatty#keep it kind#there are also some blurb writers on tumblr i've been enjoying when they cross my dash#however i am primarily a gatty reader and since thats what i write what i assumed you were looking for#if that was wrong let me know lol#i had to sneak in a matty taylor though#because you know where the city is#is my baby
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Merch concept for The 1975 by me
#the 1975#graphic design#cover art#music#digital art#cover design#design#art#coverdesign#musician#graphic art#matty healy#being funny in a foreign language#the 1975 merch#merch#new music#songs#music recs#graphicwork#poster design#designer#illustration#photoshop
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Matty Healy fic recommendations!
So I have barely any energy left to write today and I thought I would give my favourite fics a shout-out. Anyway, here we go.
(Ones in red contain smut)
Literally, everything that @64yrsold has ever written. Hands down makes me feel 🦋🦋🦋 every single time.
The entire Ruins series by @yourtouchismidas. It's on AO3 and it is INSANELY GOOD
Nails by @cowboylor - this has made me feel SEVERAL THINGS
Stubble by @everythingdenied - truly wish I could wake up like this every day
Sick by @bookish-strawberry - is this too much to ask for???? 😭😭
When We Are Together by @imagine-that-100 - this one genuinely almost made me cry because it's just that sweet
----------
There are definitely more that I'm forgetting atm because my brain feels like a bit of a mush today but I'll definitely make another list when I remember more.
#matty healy fluff#matthew healy x reader#matty healy x reader#matthew healy#matty healy#matty the 1975#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy smut#fic rec#recommendations#iris recommends#the 1975#the 1975 fic#fanfic writing#matty healy x you
261 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
vnicebtch
isadora
haleyblueart
haley blue art
shaadowdemon007
My Thoughts
pennylanebabyyyy
Highway Honey
akakumu43
I draw stuff.