#matty healy x y/n

[justlikemebutsixfootthree]

the birthday party -

pairing: matty healy x f!reader

content: friends to lovers, explicit consent, george is a good friend, matty eats pussy, safe sex, denise, p in v sex

wordcount: 6787

this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.

a/n: matty healy, you will always be famous <3

maybe it shouldn't bother him as much as it does. after all, it's just another day.

but it's his birthday. it's his fucking birthday, and there are no messages from you lighting up his phone.

at first, matty tried to convince himself that it was nothing. he had woken up and expected an all-caps message, only to be met with the god-awful time of 5:00 am. but it was okay - it was early, so you probably just want to wait - to ensure that he's awake to see your message. 

so he waited.

he waited through bleary eyes - surrounded by his concrete walls and his white comforter - until his alarm sounded and jerked him awake.

a rush of disappointment shattered his bones when there was no message from you. no ‘happy birthday,’ no ‘good morning,’ not even a ‘hey.’

but still, it's okay. matty went about his morning, taking phone call after phone call from family members he hadn’t heard from since last year, pretending there wasn’t a hole in his heart where you left a dent. his mom texted him once; something about going over for a party and celebrating his birthday there with his family and bandmates, and that was it.

he spends the rest of the day picking at the pancakes george made him and tries desperately to ignore your silence.

so yeah, it hurts that you didn't text him, and he's starting to think that maybe it's not okay. because you're his best friend, and you didn't even have the decency to wish him a happy birthday.

there's always been something between the two of you; dotted lines that make it hard to walk or see straight whenever you're together, usually bickering about god knows what.

george says you love him. matty flicks his forehead until he drops it.

because how could someone who loves him forget his birthday?

he feels selfish - feels like shit wishing for something other than the health and clarity he was brought up to be thankful for on his birthday. 

and you still don't text him. 

it's only a couple of hours later when george's air conditioning hits his face with full power, eyes watering slightly with the artificial wind blowing right into his cornea. they’re on the way to his mother’s house, and matty is bracing himself for the onslaught of aunts with their strong perfume and uncles with their disapproving looks. beside him, george hums from the driver’s seat, a clear indication he can sense matty's heedlessness.

"alright, that's it," george says, turning down the music dial until barely audible guitar strums resonate in the car. “you’ve been moping all day. what gives?”

matty shrugs. "nothing, mate."

"bullshit."

george’s eyes are switching between watching the road and glaring daggers into matty's.

“it’s your birthday, and you’re acting as if someone just killed your snake. so i ask again,” george mutters as he flicks on his turn signal, pulling off the freeway to evacuate the sanctum of subdued car horns and merge into the exit lane. “what gives, matty?”

"it’s not a big deal,” he starts, interrupted by the forced chuckle that resounds beside him. he continues when the light turns green, george slowly letting off the breaks as they near his mom's house.

“i mean, i guess it's just, like, i dunno. i thought that—” he cuts himself off, lost in his head. matty stumbles over his words, a mess of broken syllables as he runs a nervous hand through his hair, messing up the mop of curls.

“she hasn’t texted me today.”

it’s rushed, a lick of shame and embarrassment crawling up his spine as the frigidity of the air conditioning meets his neck. the car is cold, chilling matty's bones with gentle fragility until they freeze and shatter like glass. he bleeds shame, every ounce of blood in his body tainted with the reminder that you forgot.

george's breath hitches, and he clears his throat with a fist over his hand as the other one turns them into a familiar street.

his mother’s house appears in his peripheral vision, the front porch light emitting a timbre, yellow glow, and he can see shadows through the large kitchen window.

matty picks at his nails, messing with his fingers as george parks the car. he can feel watchful eyes on him when he stares down at his lap.

george turns in his seat so they’re forced to face each other. “she didn’t text you at all?”

“not since last night.”

he unbuckles his seatbelt and places a hand on the door handle. he's stopped, a tug to his arm keeping him in place and not permitting him to leave the car—leave the conversation.

“hey,” george starts, voice low and with a lilt of concern tracing the lone syllable. “i’m sure she’s got a good reason. she wouldn’t just forget your birthday.”

matty scoffs, shaking his head until strands of dark hair fall in his face, blowing upwards so he can see again. “what reason?”

“i don't know,” he says, all one breath and fidgety when he unbuckles his seat belt. “but whatever it is, i’m sure she has a good excuse.”

there’s a squeeze to his shoulder, warm fingers emitting heat where they touch his skin through smooth cotton.

“you’re too young to be going through a midlife crisis over the girl you love not texting you for twenty-four hours.”

matty doesn’t have the energy to argue, not when he knows that his friend is right.

so instead of arguing, he smiles and punches george in the arm for good measure before they head down the paved walkway to his childhood home.

his mother greets him first, halfway through his third knock because she expected them over earlier. despite the squint in her eyes, she pulls her son into a tight hug, rubbing comforting circles into his back.

“happy birthday, dear,” she sings, muffled by his chest as she stands nearly half a foot shorter than him.

“thanks, mum.” he smiles, moving aside so george can get engulfed in a hug.

he’s missed it here, the warmth that bubbles in his stomach when he’s around his family, a house full of love and people that he grew up with. it’s almost enough to make him forget about a certain someone who still lingers in the back of his mind like day-old leftovers.

almost.

“so!” his mother beams, stepping back and allowing the boys to remove their shoes and step deeper into the house. “everyone is already here, and they can’t wait to sing you 'happy birthday'.”

matty’s led down the hallway, following his mom into the kitchen. a rumble of deep-set voices and squeals call his name, and his head turns to watch distant relatives scramble to pull him into tight hugs.

he kisses his grandparents on the cheeks, hugs his aunt and uncles and tells his cousins that he missed them. they pass him presents like he’s five again, smaller gifts to unwrap now that he’s an adult and no longer asks for life-sized action figures. george joins him, staying close with a timid smile on his face as he mingles with matty’s family. the whole scene coaxes a content sigh to escape his lips, and he relaxes when his mom gives him another hug.

“i got you something too,” she whispers when they pull apart, leading them into the living room and passing him a glass of wine. they sit, lively music wafting through the speakers, and he smiles as he watches george twirl his cousins around. “it’s not here yet though, i’m afraid. you’ll have to wait a little longer.”

“you didn’t have to get me anything, mum,” he says through the bitter taste of merlot. 

she waves her hand dismissively. “oh stop it. you’ll love it, i promise.”

he tries to enjoy the party—really, he does. but thoughts of how much better it could be if you were here to enjoy it with him linger in the back of his mind. it’s tough to decide whether he should miss you or be mad at you. maybe he should forget you all together right now but he can’t. not when his brain is growing fuzzy and his cheeks feel warm, patches of crimson surely paint his face, thanks to the glass he downed in one go.

“matty, come do a shot with me!” 

with a huff, matty makes his way toward his friend who holds a shot glass nearly overfilled with clear liquid.

george’s grin melts away when he sees him, eyes filled with concern as he hesitantly passes the shot to matty.

“you okay, mate?”

matty clears his throat and mumbles something about allergies and how it’s stuffy in here as cool liquor spills over his fingers. george doesn’t seem to buy it, but he shrugs anyways.

he shakes off the mist clouding his brain and smirks, self-indulgence taking over his dark eyes. he clinks the glass to his friend’s, liquid sloshing off the sides before he tips it back. it burns when it runs down his throat, leaves his tongue dry in a desert of twisted intoxication he knows he’ll regret in the morning.

“shit,” george hisses through his teeth. “‘ forgot that i fuckin’ hate vodka.”

matty laughs, and there’s silence between them for a moment, then, “mate, are you sure you’re okay? ‘cause, not to be an arse, but you look fuckin’ horrible.”

exasperated, matty runs his hands through his already mussed hair.

“i’m gonna go get another drink.”

a calloused hand wraps around his wrist and stops him from pulling away. “maybe you should ease up on the booze,” george says.

“aren’t you the one that was just begging me to do shots with you?”

“that was before you turned into a sad drunk. here,” he shuffles around for a water bottle, “drink this and go get some air—maybe a smoke, too, while you’re at it.”

grinning, matty takes the water from george’ hand with a simple “thanks.” 

he sneaks away to the back porch where crickets chirp quietly in the grass—a change from the loud commotion of music and chatter.

lithe fingers bring a cigarette to chapped lips, thumb slipping on the lighter to invoke a small flicker of flames that burn the end of the bud.

with an inhale, matty wonders if his room looks the same as it did that last time he was here; if his brother had claimed any of his clothes or knick-knacks he’d left when he moved out. he wonders if you would find his room childish.

with an exhale, he wonders how his thoughts always seem to trace back to you.

“what have i told you about smoking, matthew?”

“i have a good reason.”

his mom wanders her way next to matty, leaning against the fencepost next to him. “and what might that reason be, love?”

“her,” matty breathes, the smoke from his lungs floating into the distant air. “fuck, mum. it’s always her.” he pauses to take another drag. “she hasn’t texted me all day, and i’m worried about her getting hurt or somethin’.”

denise smiles, and from the corner of his eye, he sees her turn back to the door of the house. he doesn’t follow her motions.

“i’m sure she’s fine, sweetheart,” she says, turning back. “you’ll hear from her soon.”

“but—”

she elbows matty’s side. “no ‘buts’. now, i think you should put that out and come back inside, okay? that stuff is bad for you.”

“soon,” he says, completely ignoring her request, and she sighs, giving her son a final nudge before stepping back inside. matty doesn’t spare her a glance, opting to keep his eyes trained on a black, starless sky.

the familiar buzz of red wine floats through his bloodstream, and he draws another hit into his lungs, filling the void of sadness with grey smoke. he almost thinks he’s hearing things when someone speaks from behind him.

“she’s right, y’know.”

the exhale of smoke comes out in a choked gasp, and his heart stutters, chest tightening. 

matty’s scared to turn around. scared to face the cause of his well-being, because there’s no way this can be real. his lip is worried between his teeth, hair falling into his face as he stares at the cigarette laced between his thumb and index finger.

the open wound you left in his heart this morning is sealed by the resound of your voice that echoes through the air.

he doesn’t turn around. you do it for him.

matty’s forced to face you with a pull on his arm, skin tingling where your hand rests. the cigarette is plucked from his fingers seconds after, the stub dropping to the ground where you step on it to put it out.

“hi,” you say, completely and utterly exhausted. “happy birthday.”

the closeness is suffocating.

you’re standing too close but somehow too far away, and matty would pull you into him if it weren’t for the frozen state of his bones. 

“hi,” matty breathes, eyes glossy with unshed tears as he stares down at you.

it’s surreal—standing here with the lingering taste of tobacco and merlot heavy on his tongue—the gentle breeze blowing tufts of your hair.

“what are you—w-when did—” matty stutters, mind running a mile a minute, intoxicated brain took over with perplexion. he stops, takes a deep breath, and collects his thoughts. “how are you here?”

“well,” you drawl, shuffling closer to the stunned man in front of you. “your parents bought me a ticket to fly out for your birthday—per george’s request. after that, all i had to do was keep it a secret, hop on a plane, and here i am.”

“here you are?” he repeats. “you had me worried sick. you didn’t text or call—hell, you didn’t even wish me a happy birthday! you can’t—you can’t just waltz in here and pretend that everything is fine when you put me through—”

“matty,” you interrupt, grabbing his hands. “calm down for me, yeah? breathe.”

“no—what? don’t just-”

he pulls away and leans back against the fence. his hands run through his hair, fingers desperately wishing they were holding a cigarette.

“breathe, matty.” you sigh patiently. “how about you give me a tour?”

“can we just … stay here for a while?” he asks, and if there’s tension in the air, it’s ignored. “i just want to make sure i’m not dreaming, or something.”

“you dream about me?’ you tease, crossing your arms to try and shield yourself from the breeze.

dark eyes slowly meet yours.

“all the time.”

he pushes himself off the fence and steps closer to you. the boots he’s wearing give him some height, so he’s looking down at you as his hands move to push your hair back.

“tell me,” you whisper. “tell me what you dream about.”

it’s the urgent tone of your hushed voice that has matty caving—hesitancy swept away with the wind as he gives in, letting his hands trace the sides of your face.

“everything,” he admits, voice quiet and shy. “fuck, love, i dream about doing everything with you. anything and everything you’d want me to.”

you’re silent.

you’re silent, and matty is losing his mind, brain pounding against his skull. he can feel bitter bile rise up his throat, nauseous when he looks back at you—just standing there—lips parted and leaving matty to lie in the grandeur of his own self-destruction.

there’s already an apology forming on his tongue, the fingers that were wound through your hair curling away.

but you step closer and grab his hands, stopping their retreat.

“i dream about it too.”

the words take matty by surprise, the tenderness that coats the revelation alleviating the shake in his hands. he looks at you—really looks at you—and scrutinizes the expression on your face.

he finds no hint of a lie; no hint of cruel duplicity, or fraud. the truth of your words really sinks in when you drop his hands in favour of running the pad of your thumbs under charcoal eyes, ridding him of the hint of tears that start to seep from puffy eyelids.

“c’mon, matty. you can’t possibly be surprised. i mean really, i dropped everything just to see you.” your tone is gentle, but a laugh sneaks its way out of your mouth and curls around matty’s head, leaving him feeling warm.

he rolls his eyes; courage slowly washes over his bones and makes his hands move to pull you in by the waist.

“shut up and kiss me.”

you surge forward, capturing his lips on your own as your hands move from his cheeks to his hair; threading them through unruly curls. 

matty drinks in every noise you make, welcoming them as they leave him desperate. the taste of stale alcohol still lingers on his lips, but underneath the bitterness is you; sweet and human. 

he would like to pretend that he hears fireworks when your lips part, a mess of bright, colourful explosions littering the sky as he softly licks into your mouth—but that doesn’t happen.

and it’s alright. it’s completely okay because instead of the headache-inducing light and noise, there’s the muffled laughter of his friends and family, the gentle chirp of crickets, and you.

you; gasping into the kiss.

you; your hands tugging gently at his hair.

you; flush against his chest. so close that matty can feel your heartbeat melding with his.

you; jerking away so abruptly his eyes shoot open, flickering over your—now beet-red—face.

the creak of the back door had pulled you away from him, and the sight of george standing atop the welcome mat made you flush.

“um,” he says, shuffling awkwardly. “i just wanted to say ‘hi’, but i think you welcomed her home enough for the both of us.”

matty clears his throat and grins sheepishly at a very shocked george. his cheeks burn red at being caught, but he can’t really bring himself to care—not when you’re finally next to him.

george scoffs, exasperated by his love-sick friends. 

“come inside,” he urges, nodding in the direction of the house. “everyone’s excited to see her.”

matty watches as you turn back to him and give a little shrug, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth—and it’s then that he decides that he’s not done kissing you yet.

“yeah. we’ll uh—we’ll follow you.”

he leads you into the house with a hand on the small of your back, and shuts the door behind him, blocking out the sounds of lingering traffic. cheerful voices seep through the walls, and the irony of how he walked in here just a couple hours ago, saddened and heavy because of the girl who’s now looking up at him with only adoration in her eyes is not lost on matty. 

“okay, denise is in there laughing about how we all tricked you into thinking the worst, so prepare to be humiliated.”

matty hums in response, staring only at the back of your head as you follow george toward the kitchen. he reaches a hand out, grabs your arm and gently tugs you back with a finger over his lips and a wink.

“mhm,” he sings, leading you slowly towards the stairs. “sounds like fun.”

he doesn’t get the chance to watch as george turns around, already halfway up the stairs with you latched onto his arm.

“you’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.” george’s exasperated voice is the last thing he hears before he’s crowding you against the wall at the top of the stairs.

his lips are on yours before you get a second to breathe, a bruising hold on your waist as he pushes you into solid plaster. he keeps one hand on you while the other presses the wall beside your head, arm shaky as he leans his weight onto you.

there’s a light push to his chest, and you gasp under him as you pull back. matty has to refrain from groaning at the loss of pressure on his lips.

“my bags,” you pant, “i forgot them outside.”

a breath of laughter ghosts over your lips. “we can get them after.”

“but my clothes are gonna get wet—matty, the grass was wet.”

your words render useless as he leans down to plant open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

“then you can borrow some of mine,” matty mumbles, trailing his way up to your jaw to suck purple bruises into tender flesh.

at the thought of drowning in his clothes, you go lax against matty’s lips; giving in to his desperate mouth.

“okay,” you agree, and that’s all it takes for matty to recapture your mouth and let his hands wander. 

calloused, gentle hands trace the curve of your body as lithe hips press into yours. he manages to tear a hand away from you to feel for the cool metal of the familiar doorknob, twisting until the door falls open.

he tugs you in with sweet urgency, his old bedroom cast in soft light, the only luminosity coming from the moon where it seeps through the blinds.

maybe it’s just the heat of the moment, or maybe you don’t care—but matty’s grateful you don’t comment on the bowie posters that grace his walls as he pushes you into the middle of his bed.

you land with a light bounce and prop yourself up onto your elbows, a cocky grin making its way onto your face. “i’ve been here for barely twenty minutes,” you breathe, gasping when matty situates himself between your legs and pushes you higher onto the mattress. “and you already wanna tear my clothes off.”

the brunet dips his fingers under the hem of your shirt, hiking it up just a sliver to catch a glimpse of soft, smooth skin. “wanted to for a while now.”

he brings the hem of the shirt up to your lips. “bite,” he whispers, voice husky.

with the new expanse of skin exposed, matty's practically left breathless. he takes tender flesh between his teeth, laps his tongue at bare and unmarred skin, and sucks until he feels you arch your back and lean into his mouth. his hands trail the expanse of your ribs, feeling the delicate bones under his touch.

marks upon marks are added to your lower stomach, matty desperately trying to leave reminders on your abdomen. his lips work on their own accord, sucking bite after bite up your torso until he lands at the base of your bra. he looks up at you, eyes questioning. laughing softly, you sit up, gently pushing him back onto his knees. dark eyes trace your body, watching as you undo your bra, slipping it off and letting it fall to the floor, along with your shirt. 

the man in front of you sits in awe, and lets out a long sigh. “fuckin’ gorgeous.”

you’re not sure if the words were meant for you to hear, but you blush anyways, leaning back and letting your elbows hold your weight.

“do your worst, birthday boy.”

matty laughs, the happy—and somewhat shocked—noise echoes through the small bedroom and causes you to grin. he doesn’t hesitate to drop his head; lips meeting your warm skin, teeth leaving trails of bruises. 

you gasp out breathy pleas when matty flicks his tongue over the peak of your breast. “y-your—shit,” you whine, hands landing in the man’s hair, tugging at the curls harshly. “your family is downstairs, matty. what if they—ah!—hear us?"

“don’t care,” he responds, biting softly at the pink bud and rolling the other between his index and his thumb. “want this. want you.”

”fuck. i—okay, okay. you have me, matty,” you moan, pleasure dripping from your lips. “you have me.”

he surges up to kiss you again, newfound fervour in the brush of your lips as he tilts his head to lick into your mouth. you still taste sweet, everything matty could ever ask for. 

“you’re gonna have to be quiet,” he whispers, leaning back on his knees and tracing patterns over your stomach, dipping his fingers into the bruised marks just to hear the masochistic whines you let out at the pain. “as pretty as you sound, i don’t want anyone hearing us.”

hearing his words over, matty backtracks, his hand stuttering over your torso.

“i mean, not that we need to like, do anything—i’m not—i don’t wanna force you into—”

your fingers wrap around his wrist, halting his ministrations to give a comforting squeeze to his skin.

“i want to,” you breathe, using your grip around his wrist to drag his hand down your stomach to rest on your belt. “i want this.”

at your words, matty rushes to tug at the buckle, effortlessly removing your belt and tossing it to the side. 

your jeans are off your hips in a second’s time, but he takes his time sliding them over your ankles, bending down to leave firm kisses on your inner thighs.

you preen under his touch, and your chest heaves as you breathe, a glistening trail of spit drying on your nipples. when the jeans are discarded and messily thrown in a pile somewhere across the tiny room, matty notices the soaked bottom of your underwear.

tracing a finger up the fabric just to watch you writhe, matty tuts. “and you thought i was eager.”

your hips jerk up in response, surprised by the soft touch. your hands fly to his hair, gripping the curls so tight that he grunts against your neck. 

“jesus.” 

“sorry! ‘m sorry,” you sob. you manage to relax your fingers, but matty shakes his head.

“don’t stop on my account.” 

you feel his fingers slide across your damp underwear, moving to mindlessly palm your thighs as he leaves burning kisses up to where you need him most. your hips rut up, chasing his hand desperately, but matty’s not having it. 

“matty, please,” you huff, tugging at his hair to try and get him where you want him.

“stop whining,” he hushes. “‘wanna take my time.”

your soft gasps and whimpers start to get to him though, and he pushes his knuckles against your pussy, forcing a shocked moan out of you. 

matty shushes you because while he is completely enamoured by each noise that escapes your lips, he isn’t too keen on one of his family members walking in to see him take you apart.

you relent, and worry your bottom lip between your teeth, while matty returns to the task at hand.

“pretty,” he mumbles, slipping calloused fingers beneath the elastic band of your underwear. 

he pulls to gradually reveal your soaked folds and his breath catches in his throat. at the sight, he speeds up his movements and practically rips the cloth off your legs. the material joins the jeans on the floor, and finally, he gets to see you in all your splendour.

“can i taste you?” he whispers, voice shaking. you nod, already out of it as you take the liberty of collecting all of his hair away from his face, holding it back as he works his mouth against you.

“matty, you—” you start, a hand flying from his hair to his sheets. they smell like him, but you’re trying not to think about that—trying not to think about how loopy it’s making you feel—because matty’s holding your hips up, nose bumping against your swollen clit as he tongues at your hole.

“you—” you start again, but the thought gets lost somewhere. disappears as matty does something with his tongue that makes you gasp. “jesus christ—” you huff, chest rising and falling quickly.

you get your words out before you can forget. 

“fuck,” you sigh, arching your hips into his face and tightening your fist in his hair, “you look good like this.”

the praise goes straight to his head, and he’s groaning. nodding his head into you, hitting a sweet spot and almost immediately, the hand in his hair pulls him up.

“i don’t wanna cum yet,” you say, quiet because you have to be—taking account of the people downstairs. “so just, go easy on me, okay? you’re surprisingly good at this.”

“surprisingly?” matty retorts, raising an eyebrow. 

you don’t have time to respond before he runs his teeth against your clit, and chides, “brat,” before tightening the grip his fingers have on your thighs, pushing the digits into your skin before shaking his head from side to side. you see black, your eyes clenched closed as you try and pull your thighs together, but matty pushes them open, desperately lapping at you.

his jaw aches as his mouth moves, but your pleasure is all he knows. even though you asked so nicely for matty to not yet make you cum—the question is nothing but a distant memory in the back of his mind.

he flattens his tongue and guides it up, sliding across your slit before enveloping your clit in his mouth and sucking—forcing a strong, white current to wash over you. your hands shoot up to cover your mouth as you arch into his mouth, breathlessly stuttering his name as you come.

can’t talk, can’t speak.

the feeling is too overwhelming, too all-consuming before the come down eventually starts and words are coming out, your body shaking with the effort to stay quiet; muffled whimpers sounding behind tight fingers.

you hitch your hips up, and matty’s moving with them, basically getting onto his knees to keep you close. “holy fuck,” you breathe, looking down between your tits to where he’s kissing away your slick, only letting go when you shove your hands down between your thighs, nerves shot and sensitive.

“mmh,” you whimper, clamping your thighs together, trying to calm yourself down. 

“you with me?” he asks, tucking his damp curls behind his ears. you have to laugh. have to laugh all of this pent-up emotion out as you brush stray hairs from your face.

“yeah,” you nod breathlessly. matty kisses you with a smile and you taste yourself on him. his features go goofy when he raises a brow and asks, “good?” 

“fucking amazing.”

“good,” he says again, then rolls onto his back beside you. he’s unbuttoning his shirt, saying, “i aim to please,” when you’re crawling your body up his chest and kissing the shock away from his face.

“oh fuck,” he curses, fumbling to grab a hold of you. you slide your fingers onto the side of his head and taste yourself, mixed with the feel of his swollen, curving lips as he smiles against you. desperation sweeps over you, and you cup a hand over the bulge in his pants, grinding your palm down, and matty has to focus really hard to not give into your touch.

regrettably, he pries your hand away, bringing it to his mouth and kissing each one of your fingers with sentimental ease. “wanna fuck you,” he mutters, playfully biting at your ring finger until you laugh and pull your hand away.

“come on,” you drawl, moving to sit directly on his bulge. “it’s your birthday. don’t you want me to blow you?”

you have a point, matty supposes. his birthday is supposed to be the one day of the year when he gets to be selfish, and what kind of person would he be if he passed up the opportunity to feel your lips around him? 

but you’re his gift. tasting you and making you cum from his mouth alone is a better present than he could have ever asked for, and matty thinks he can afford to be greedy tonight.

but to him, being greedy isn’t fucking your throat until pretty tears fall down your cheeks—he can do that another time. greedy, to matty, is taking another orgasm from you, just so he can hear the way his name sounds when curled around your tongue.

he makes quick work of slipping off the mattress and taking off the white button-up and trousers, leaving him in only his boxers.

“i’m not lettin’ you suck me off.” he smirks.

“what? why not?” you move to the edge of the bed, a look of confusion dancing on your features as you run a finger up matty’s exposed thigh. “don’t you want me to?”

it’s hard not to give in when you tease the waistband of his boxers, the light chatter rumbling from downstairs a distant memory as he loses himself in the feeling of cold fingers slipping under the elastic band. leaning forward, you press leisurely kisses against the brunet’s torso.

he allows you to mouth at his abdomen, welcomes the gentle bite when you pull skin between your teeth; a swirl of possessiveness ravishing deep in his bones when he realizes that you’re is trying to match the heart-shaped hickeys that taint your own body.

matty breaks out of his trance when you roll his boxers down until the cloth lies in a pile around his ankles. goosebumps rise to his skin and he can feel his legs begin to tremble.

before you have the chance to take his cock into your mouth, matty takes hold of your hair, and gently pulls you back.

“i said you’re not blowin’ me,” he mutters, leaning over your body until you’re forced to lay flat on the mattress, legs dangling off the edge and chest heaving at the proximity. “i know what i want for my birthday, and it’s not that.”

with a fluid movement, he flips your positions and settles against the headboard, letting you settle on his lap. his hands explore your body, nails occasionally scratching you—making you shiver.

“i want you. i want you as mine, and i want you to ride me, right here.”

matty laughs at your wide eyes, brushes sweaty hair out of your face, and relishes in the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other. he’s painfully hard, and every time you shift just a fraction of an inch, it tugs a shaky breath from his throat.

“alright,” you say, pressing a chaste kiss to matty’s lips. “do you have any condoms then?”

his hand reaches out to his bedside table. “in the drawer.”

you lean to grab it for him, and matty’s kissing you the entire time. over your chest, collarbones, shoulders, and neck as you push around his drawer, saying “you have so much shit in here.”

he turns to look. turns back to your neck. “in the back,” and he’s kissing you again, palming your ass. he slides his hands lower and bumps them against your sensitive clit, making you gasp, clutching onto the wood.

matty fucking laughs.

you shake your head. “you’re an arse.”

“you’re very distracting,” he admits.

you finally find the box, and with a packet in hand, you look down to where matty’s cock lays on his stomach, a bead of precum leaking onto his abdomen. “shit, you’re big.”

matty smirks, cocky. “think you can take it?”

huffing, you slide the condom down onto him slower than necessary. his cocky smirk dies immediately when you suck your cheeks together and allow a pool of spit to spill from your lips.

“gonna try,” you say, slicking up matty’s cock with a thick coat of saliva still partially strung to your lips, the friction slow enough for him to buck his hips and try to fuck your fist to get needed stimulation. 

“tease,” he manages to choke out before you sink down onto him, hips flexing back so he slides all the way in. as soon as you bottom out, matty groans long and hard, and his head falls into the crook of your shoulder.

you don’t let him know when you’re ready, only lifting yourself up so matty can feel the drag of his cock along your insides, gasping as pleasure clouds your mind. shaky limbs help you in slamming back down, the legs of the bed creaking with the force of your bodies colliding.

”fuck,” matty moans, hands scrambling to find purchase on your waist. you sound fucked out already, blissful sighs breathed into matty’s hair. “you okay?”

you sit up again, the tip of matty’s cock catching on your folds before you lower yourself again, stuttered curses leaving your mouth.

“mhm, m’fine. y-you’re just,” you sob, trailing off and rolling your hips forward, letting matty’s cock grind against your sensitive bundle of nerves. you swallow, the sound resonating in matty’s ears as he aids your movements with a firm grip on your waist. “big.”

matty’s ego swells and he pulls you down hard on his dick, making you feel just how big he can be. it causes you to shake your head quickly.

“fuck! n-not so fast, please.”

“oh baby,” he soothes, palms sliding to grip your ass, and he uses his hold on you to fuck up into you, keeping a simple rhythm—cock hitting a part of you that makes you sob. makes you collapse against his chest, and you stuff your head into his neck and just take it.

“there?” matty asks with a twinge of something sadistic. “want me to fuck you there?”

“yeah, yeah, please—close, matty, ‘m so close.”

to try and lessen the noise, matty grabs your face and pulls you down into a bruising kiss. he swallows every sound, loving the way you struggle to kiss him back as your legs tremble.

“close already, huh?” he whispers against your lips, drinking in every soft moan that escapes your throat.

and it’s meant to be playful, something that he can tease you about later—but with the way his name is repeated in a fucked out voice, he’s sure he’ll forget to do that later.

so he relents, fucking into you with calculated thrusts, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

your thighs ache, and the edge is so close all you can do is take what he’s giving you and whine his name pathetically.

it hits you all at once.

a white-hot heat reaches up and grabs you and you clench so fucking tight around his cock that matty falters.

he’s losing his goddamn mind. head tilted back against the headboard, he’s trying to hold back pathetic whimpers, but when your eyes roll to the back of your head and your lashes flutter shut, matty lets out a sob as he comes, rutting his hips into you as your body shakes.

your body shakes with overstimulation as matty moves you against him, milking his orgasm and running sharp nails down your sweat-ridden back. 

after the comedown, you breathe out a sigh. matty’s kissing your neck. gently pecking at the hot skin, before spreading his kisses over your jaw, towards your mouth. 

“how was that?” he asks, tracing a calloused finger over the marks that litter your body. they turn a deeper shade of purple when his touch lingers for too long, and he grins as you squirm in his grasp.

“i think you already know,” you quip, frowning.

“maybe. but i wanna hear you say it.”

you don’t dignify him with a response, instead shaking your head and lifting yourself off his cock, wincing at the sudden emptiness.

“cold?” matty asks. you nod and curl into yourself as he gets up to rummage through his old closet.

once you’re fully dressed, in clothes albeit a bit big on you, matty helps you stand from the bed and pulls you into a hug—your first proper embrace since you’ve been here—and rests his chin atop your knotted hair.

you hum into his chest, wrapping your fingers behind his back and trace swirls over his bare skin. 

“i’m glad you’re here,” he says, pressing a kiss to your crown and pulling back to find his pants. “i don’t know if i actually told you that, yet.”

“i kinda figured you were—what with how fast you stopped crying when you saw me.”

“hey,” matty points an accusatory finger at you, but there’s no malice behind it. “you can’t blame me for bein’ upset, i thought you forgot my birthday.”

together, you fix the pillows and smooth over crumpled sheets, returning the room to the way it was before the kisses, the sex, and you.

“matty, when have i ever forgotten your birthday?” 

before leaving the room, you try to smooth out your hair, carding a hand through matty’s as well so it isn’t too obvious what you’ve been doing for the last hour—though you’re sure george has a hunch.

the minute you step into the kitchen, with matty close behind, you see george down the rest of his beer and make his way over to you. 

“so,” he drawls, a shit-eating grin spread across his face as he eyes you two up and down. “what have you guys been doin’?”

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© 2023 justlikemebutsixfootthree - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or claim as yours

[hrryshoney]

no. 1 party anthem

matty healy x photographer!reader

A/N: lowkey projecting bc im a photographer/videographer❤️ this is set during like self-titled. if u could tell. named this after the AM song bc i think it fits (the bridge of this song is so them coded) this is unnecessarily long (6.1k words) but anyway Enjoy

warnings: smut 18+. um fingering, p in v unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation a bit? (male), degradation, praise, use of a camera during sex, Sir kink, exhibitionism (kinda), sex on a couch, light choking/slapping (blink and miss it!), probs more kinda filthy etc..

Today was shit. Complete and utter shit. Your alarm didn’t go off, you spilled coffee all over yourself, had to go home to change, and you were going to be late to your first clients appointment. It’s only 8:30, and you could already tell it was going to be a bad day.

Your first client was booked at 7:45. You only had four appointments today. Normally, you’d be a bit more booked out. But, your last clients would take up more time than usual. An up-and-coming band you heard, that were quite popular already. Their management had informed them about your local studio, and an appointment was made.

Upon walking into your studio promptly at 8:00, you saw that your best friend was stalling for you. She had your first client engulfed in mindless conversation. God love her, Lexi knew how to keep a crowd entertained. Really, showing up 15 minutes late wasn’t a good look. You were glad she was here to null some of the damage.

As you walked up to them, you caught the tail end of her gossiping, no doubt. You placed your hand on Lexi’s shoulder, startling her out of conversation. “Oh! Let me get out of your way. I was just telling Christian how my last shift at the diner was absolute madness. As always, though. He’s all checked in. Have fun, hope the shoot goes well!” You shot her an appreciative smile, then an apologetic one to Christian.

Stepping out of the lobby and leading him to the studio, you were face to face with him. “I am so, so sorry I kept you waiting. This morning was one from hell, for sure.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry. Shit happens.” He smiled back at you, following you into the room.

You were grateful for his understanding, hoping it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience. You prided yourself on being punctual and professional. Thankfully, the studio was already set up for his shoot

You took the lens cap off your camera and began to set up your tripod for some head shots. Flipping the camera switch to ON, you then turned to Christian.

“Let’s get started.”

…

Your next 2 appointments went on without a hitch. They were both fairly basic shoots, nothing too heavy. Your 2nd client was even a regular. She was so lovely. Today she came in to get maternity photos with her husband. Considering how long she’s been coming to your studio, you were ecstatic for her.

You were still a bit out of it and tired though, the effects of your morning not completely worn off yet. You had an hour and 45 minutes before your last clients for the day came in. The band that you’ve been anticipating.

It was 11:34 now, so you were taking this as an opportunity for your lunch break. You decided to go to the sandwich shop that was about a block down from your studio. Walking out of the darkroom in your facility, (some guests preferred genuine photographic film) you spotted Lexi. Still behind the front desk, but now on a stool, slouched and looking at her phone. Mindlessly scrolling, she was kicking her feet back and forth as they dangled from her place in her seat.

“Hungry?” You came up beside her, tapping her thigh twice. Lexi was pulled out of whatever she was watching on her phone, looking up at you. “Mhm, starving. Lunch?”

“On me,” You confirmed, “thought we could get it in before our last clients. They’re gonna take a while, but I’m looking forward to it.” You said honestly, looking out the studio’s glass windows to the street. “Have we ever shot a band?” You use the term ‘we’ loosely. When you and your best friend both got a start, you always knew that you were going to be more hands-on. She didn’t necessarily share the passion for photography, but when she had no shifts picked up for her service job at the local diner, she would pay you a visit. She stuck beside you, and you’re thankful for it.

Lexi does most of the behind the scenes work for you when she’s there, and it would honestly be 10x harder without her. “Don’t think so. I would have remembered that. Every guy in a band is, like, insanely hot.” She hopped off her stool, beat white converse hitting the ground.

“Good to know where your priorities are. Hopefully they’re cooperative.” You wondered aloud, you knew they were young. That normally meant they would be rowdy, too. Four guys around your age was bad news in general, even worse that they’re musicians. “Hopefully they’re hot.” Lexi corrects, too caught up in picking at her nail beds to see your expression.

She had you laughing out loud. Wide eyes and an even wider grin on your face. “Right, extra incentive.” You picked up your keys to the front door that were lying on one of the shelves under the front desk. Checking your watch and walking to the door, you flipped the sign to CLOSED so you and Lex could grab a bite in peace.

…

You and Lexi wasted more time than you thought. You were out for at least an hour, having went shopping after eating. You both decided you could use a new outfit. Not for anything particular, but just to treat yourselves. Then, you traveled back to the studio.

30 minutes until your next client, you still had time to kill. You went to read the email from their management, again. You saw they specifically wanted a couch in their shoot. You should probably set up their studio now. You knew you had an old, black leather couch in the back somewhere. Finding it would be the hard part.

It wouldn’t be in any of your front studios, so you decided to check the last one first. Studio 13, it was more of a storage room now. When you first leased this place, you were pretty sure it used to be a one-level warehouse. You’re never booked to the point where you’re using all the studios, and you don’t have enough staffing anyway. Still, it cleans up nicely.

You end up shouting for Lex’s help dragging the big couch to your front studio. You had already set up a white tarp for your backdrop, knowing it was a pretty minimalistic shoot. As you lug the couch along the concrete floor, the feet of it scraping against it to make a rather brash noise, you began to think the soft, calming music that you queued to combat it wasn’t working very well.

You finally push the last bit of the couch into the studio, dragging it in front of the white tarp. Lexi raised her hand for a high five, which you gladly reciprocate. You look at her with a grin. “Not bad, huh? Little studio we got going.” You both laugh, staring at the quite bleak set.

“Best in town,” Lex returns dryly, she steps out and looks to the front windows. “Those your clients?” Before you even look, you answer. Albeit sarcastically, “And I’m supposed to know, how? I’ve never met these people before.” But the words died in your throat the moment you looked. They had to be your next clients. You didn’t think anyone could fit the bill for ‘band members’ more perfectly.

So, there they were. Smoking and loitering outside the studio. And Lexi was right, because she always had to be. They were hot. No sooner than you think it, the words are coming out her mouth. “Christ, they’re handsome.” All of them wearing some short of black getup, with tight jeans and t-shirts. One boy, with longer, blonde hair, had his sunglasses on with a snapback. She laughs through her sentence in disbelief, a hand coming to her mouth. You can’t help but follow suit.

“Right, well. Even if they are, he best not ash his cig in my flower pots.” You squinted your eyes, the cigarette resting between the boys middle and index figure. Trailing your gaze to his face, he had dark curly hair. A pale complexion with deep brown eyes, cheeks sunken in as he took a drag of his cigarette. The face that, after you finished staring, you saw was looking right at you with a half-smirk. You smiled back and looked to Lex, taking a step back into the front studio. “He saw me.”

“You weren’t exactly being subtle, but oh well. That’s the one you want?” She raises her eyebrows in a tease, a wide grin splitting across her lips. Your face and body heat, eyes widening. “Can you not? I need to be professional. This is the real deal, you know? They’ve got management and everything.” You didn’t wanna blow your shot, you knew this was the foot in the door to bigger things. Cute band members were not taking this one from you.

Your hands came subconsciously to brush at your outfit, looking down at yourself to see if you looked presentable. You could practically hear your best friend’s thoughts, and the smirk on her face. You ignored her.

The bell on your door rang with entrance, and you turned to see one of the guys walking in. He had shorter dirty blonde hair, and you could see one of the others stomping on his cigarette before following behind.

Putting on your customer service smile, you took a few steps back to make room for the 4 men in the lobby. You scooted closer to Lexi, suddenly feeling outnumbered. Four sets of eyes were now looking back at you. Two brunettes, one who had closer to black hair. Two blondes, one whose was longer and lighter.

“Nice to meet you,” You sighed out, their intimidating gazes piercing. “So, um, welcome to our studio.” You introduced the both of you, giving your name and Lexi’s. Gesturing between the two of you with a wave of your hand.

They went down the line doing the same. Ross, Matty, Adam, and George. In that order, introductions exchanged in their thick accents through giggles. The boy you had taken interest in you now knew as Matty, and he was only drawing you in more.

“Well, we can get started on your session early since… you’re here.” You looked to the group, waiting for some sort of approval. You got a couple head nods, and a smirk from Matty.

“That eager to get us in, babe?” He chuckled, knocking his shoulder into his friend’s playfully. You felt embarrassment flood through you, but you led them to the studio with your head up.

“Sure. So, Studio 13. I’ll get a lot of ‘full band’ shots, but your manager said he wanted some solo shots of the each of you, too. Think it’ll be easier to get the group ones now, though.” You told them, wringing your hands slightly.

There was a small murmur of agreement, and you turned around to get your camera ready. Checking your lens, SD card, battery. “Whatever you think, you’re the pro.” Your head shot up, seeing Ross smile reassuringly at you. You returned the gesture and got back to work.

As you walked around the room to flick your lights on, you saw Matty shooting his friend a look. You didn’t think too much of it, but your eyes couldn’t stop finding his face. You were gonna have fun photographing him solo. “Okay, everyone! Get together, pose, do whatever you want. I’ll take a bunch of shots.”

After a few pictures, you stopped. Lowering your camera. “Maybe.. We should get you in the middle.” You pointed at Matty, him freezing in his place at the end of the line. “I mean, you’re just…” You trailed off, hoping he’d get the point.

George spoke up, saving you from having to complete your sentence. “She’s saying you’re the shortest, mate. Get in the middle.” He snickered, hand raising to his mouth to hide his smile.

Matty’s smile dropped, shoving his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever,” he muttered, moving to his new spot. “Better?” He tried to hold back his laugh, but was failing over the sound of his friends chuckles in the background.

Once you got them started, you could see they really were naturals. You assumed their close bond caused them to work so well and naturally together. Joking around, but still getting good shots.

However, this perception faded when you had to go in for the solos. Of course, above anything, they were boys. And they were also making your job a living hell. No matter who you were photographing, the other three were trying to get a laugh. Anything to make their friend break.

Your last straw was when you tried to get a photo of Adam, and Matty all but fell into his lap. You laughed along, (because truly, it really was just a little bit funny), but forced yourself back into work mode.

“Okay, this isn’t working. How about for the solo shots the rest of you stand out in the hallway? And we get a little rotation.” You suggested, trying to make yourself sound as light hearted as possible. Though a wave of whines passed over the group, they ultimately agreed in the end.

Working with them one-on-one was really nice. The two guys you shot so far, Adam and George, were very intelligent and funny. Unnaturally respectful for men your age, and you really couldn’t complain.

You finished both of them up, their mini shoots taking about 15 minutes each. You went back in the hallway you collect another one of them.

Adam and George now stood to the side, leaving Matty and Ross to linger right outside the door. You opened the door, looking at both of them and keeping your palm on the door handle. “Who’s next?”

Ross’ eyes went to Matty’s, about to step backwards and let him go. Then, Matty’s arm shot out to land on Ross’ shoulder. It seemed he tried to give his friend a shove forward, but the most he got out of Ross was a stumble. “Ross will go next. Save the best for last and all that, right?”

You giggled at Matty’s antics, while the rest of his friends let out sighs and eye rolls. Ross mumbled something under his breath, a sarcastic ‘right, sure..’ was the most you caught. You then lead him into the studio, closing the door on your way.

Ross’ session took about 5 minutes more than the others. He was incessantly flirting, making it hard to do your job. And while there was no denying that he was very cute, you knew they were all harmless comments.

You were finding out quickly that the boys were good company. And the shots were all turning out more than great. They were all so naturally photogenic, and the camera loved them. You doubted you’d have to do much editing.

…

You walked out with Ross, on your way to finally bring Matty in. You two lightly chatted on your way out, Matty’s eyes landing on you the second the door opened. He looked at Ross and tilted his head, to which the taller boy only looked down at him and grinned.

You broke the awkward silence, clapping your hands together. “Right, well. Matty, last but not least and all that.” You step back and put your hands up, gesturing for him to step in before you.

Once you finally got him away from the rest of the band and you closed the door, his whole demeanor shifted. Matty turned around instantly to look at you, and you looked down to the floor. You could see his smile through your periphery.

“Okay, so. For the rest of the guys I got a few of them standing and a few of them sitting on the couch…” You trail off, looking around the room. At this point, you’re just desperately trying to avoid eye contact with him. Maybe saving him for last wasn’t the brightest idea.

“Okay,” Matty nods his head, eyes following yours and looking around the studio. “Should I.. get on the couch?” He says offhandedly, a hand coming to hide the smirk that’s blooming on his face.

You feel your face get hot, but you agree anyway. “Um, yeah. That’ll work.” You walk over to the studio light, dragging it in place from where you moved it when with Ross.

After getting the area set up, you turn back to Matty. He’s looking at you expectantly, waiting for direction. “You can just pose however you want. I’ll just take a bunch of shots and there’s bound to be some keepers.” You smile and turn your camera on, fiddling with the settings.

“Have to tell me if I’m doing good, then. Don’t know what I’m doing when I pose, to be honest.” He laughs, moving in his seat a bit. You scoff, still too preoccupied with your camera to realize you did it out loud. “What?” he asks intrigued, still smiling.

“Don’t think you could really look bad. I mean, you’re photogenic and good looking to begin with, so.” You press your lips together, the words flowing out of your mouth too freely. You turn around and walk to a cart that’s in the corner of the room, pretending to grab something from it.

“Yeah, sweetheart? Think I look good?” His smile grows unbelievably wider, not being able to hold back his teasing remarks. You roll your eyes, obviously not meaning the blatant compliment to come out. You come closer to him and he kicks his knee out so it brushes your thigh.

Trying to brush it off, you shrug your shoulders. “You caught me,” You said with the faintest smirk on your face. Taking photos of him flows naturally. He’s just too.. perfect. And though you don’t throw that word around, he really is. You already love the few shots you have of him.

You get down on your knees to take the next picture from a better angle, leaning back on your calves as you do. Matty’s eyes widen and immediately find yours. It doesn’t register in your head what he’s thinking, until you see him shift in his seat.

He doesn’t do it subtly, and you know he wants you to look. You’re no better, so easily giving into temptation. Your eyes drag to his hips, watching the way he lifts himself off the couch momentarily.

“Alright, babe?” He calls, drawing your attention back up to his face. Though, your gaze lingers on his mouth. He winks at you.

“Should I be asking you that instead?” You hide behind the camera, snapping more pictures. You remembered the promise you made to Lexi and yourself. Be professional.

He chuckled, bringing his hands to run them along his thighs. “Only if you’re gonna help me out.” His eyes search yours for an answer, and you can only guess that you look as desperate as you feel. You nod.

His hands run higher, rubbing over the tent in his jeans. “Gonna need your words, then.” He smirks, and you feel so out of control. But it feels nice.

“Yes, please. I’ll help you.” You get up from your spot on the floor, ready to move towards him. Matty’s hand presses on himself harder, and he groans.

“Ah,” He tsks, stopping you in your tracks. “Don’t get to touch me yet, we’re not done our photo shoot.” He smiles, which then gets interrupted with a moan. The only thing you’re focusing on is how he works himself with his hand.

“Please, Matty. Need you.” You’re already begging him, but you don’t dare move from your spot. Because you want to be good for him. You feel the pit in your stomach, and then the pool of arousal in your panties.

“C’mon, take a picture of me baby. Isn’t that your job?” Matty throws his head back, palming himself through his jeans even more. You feel your knees weaken, the camera suddenly heavier in your hand.

You bring the camera up to your face, looking through the view finder. Matty looks sinful. You clench your thighs together and his hips lift off the couch even more, a whimper falling past his lips. You take the photo.

“Knew you’d be so fucking eager. Could see ya eye fucking me since we got here.” Matty starts to unzip his pants, allowing his cock to be less constrained by the pressure. You don’t even think when your finger hits the button.

“Like you weren’t doing the same?” You shoot back, voice coming out breathier than intended. He lifted his hips up, pulling his jeans down past his thighs. He was left in his black Calvin Klein boxers. The imprint of his hard cock very much visible.

He strokes himself over his boxers, mouth parting slightly. “Watch that mouth, thought you were a good girl.” He groans out through gritted teeth. “Come here.”

You obey, of course. Walking straight to him, though your mouth gets the best of you. “Maybe you thought wrong.” You say with an innocent smile, the toes of your shoes hitting his. He grabs your wrist, bringing it to his dick. He moves your hand up and down, letting you feel all of him.

“Wanna be a brat for me, baby? Come on, take me out. I’ve got another use for that mouth.” You reach for his waistband, your camera still in your other hand. He notices the compromising position and takes it from you. You expect him to put it to the side, but he keeps it in his hand. “Get back on your knees.”

You lower yourself down, pulling Matty out fully. He’s pretty. His cock is long and thick, the tip slightly red with precum beading out from touching himself. “So big, Sir.” You look up at him through your lashes, pumping him twice. He whines out.

“Sir, huh?” He smirks, throat gravelly. You work your hands around his length more. Then, you hear it. The camera shutter. You look up, his eyes looking through the viewfinder.

“Can I suck you off?” You bat your eyelashes, waiting for permission. Matty’s hands falter, bringing the camera down slightly. He hums.

“Mhm, take your top off, sweetheart. Leave your bra and leggings.” You pull your hands off him, swiping your shirt over your head. You were wearing a blue bra with lace trim, and it pushed your tits together nicely. Thank you, Lord.

Matty started to pump his cock when your hand left, now working himself faster. “Open your mouth.” You submitted to him, quickly sticking your tongue out. You subconsciously pushed your breasts together with your elbows.

Matty slapped his dick on your tongue, loving the way your moans vibrated around him. He teased you, taking himself away to take another picture. “Please, please Sir.” You rock yourself on your heel, the desperation growing.

“Little slut,” He giggles, pressing his cock into your mouth. Groaning out when you close your lips around him. You could only take a little more than half of him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip.

Your hands came up to work the rest of what didn’t fit. “Made for this, to take my cock.” You whined around him at that. Hollowing your cheeks and pulling off a bit. You say something around him that he can’t make out, and he bucks into your mouth.

Matty’s hand comes to rest on the back of your head, hand tangling in your hair. “Like that? Wanna be my fucktoy?” You nod around him, bringing one of your hands to rub yourself over your leggings. Matty guides your head down on him until you gag, letting you pull off and take a breath.

Tears welling in your eyes, you swallow your saliva and look back up at him. “I’m okay, please keep going. I like it.” You respond to the concerned look in his eyes, and he nods. Before you take him in your mouth again, you spit back on his cock.

“Fucking hell, shit.” Matty moans, throwing his head back on the frame of the couch. He pushes your head down again, making you take his whole cock in your mouth. You don’t gag this time, and he starts to move his hips.

He’s fucking your mouth, and you’ve never been more turned on in your life. You felt your knees starting to bruise, and you rubbed your cunt faster. The only thing separating you being two layers of fabric.

He pulled you off of him, then. Looking at you touching yourself. “Getting off on making me feel good? S’pathetic, baby.” He teased you, and you heard the camera go off yet again. “C’mon, up here. Gonna make you feel good.”

What a gentleman, you think. Not coming before you. The thought makes you giggle, but it’s interrupted by your own shriek when he pulls you onto the couch. He places you on his thigh, grinding you down against him. Your whines are constant and he’s not letting up. “Please, Matty. I want you.” You whimper.

Matty pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it to the side. You state shamelessly, taking in all of his tattoos. They make him even more attractive, and you know you’re only feeding his ego with your wide eyes and parted lips.

He flips your position, and now Matty’s on his knees before you. He pulls your leggings off briskly. Then, you’re only left in a bra and panties. He presses over the wet spot on your panties, and you jolt. He hooks his finger in them, and pulls them to the side.

His fingers run through your wetness, and you’re practically glistening under the studio lights. He slips his middle finger inside of you, but it’s gone as soon as it came. You squirm, needing to feel any kind of friction. He pulls you closer to him by your thighs, spreading your legs wide.

He’s just staring for a few minutes, until you feel him blow a gust of cold air onto your exposed cunt. You scream out, hips bucking off the couch. Matty lightly slaps your inner thigh. “Sh, don’t want our friends to know what a whore you are, right? Giving it up so easy for a guy you just met.” You hear the smirk in his words, his accent becoming thicker and breathing more rapid.

Without warning, he licks a bold stripe up the center of your pussy. You put your hand in front of your mouth, muffling the moans. Matty sees this, however, and has a different idea. He says something without lifting up from you, the feeling of his mouth making your eyes roll back. Finally, he pulls off of you. “Camera.”

You whine, “Huh?” The camera is suddenly being placed in your hand, the weight making you shake more. “Only fair you get some pictures of me. Had your photoshoot, now it’s my turn.” And with that, his mouth is back on you.

Matty licks your clit, pursing his lips and sucking. Your legs start to shake, and he brings his hand around to insert his middle finger in your hole. Your whole body goes weak, the light grip you have on the camera not helping.

Matty continues eating you, and he’s messy with it. You feel your slick on your inner thighs. His tongue goes inside of you, slowly moving in circles. He pulls off again, watching you clench around nothing before shoving his face between your thighs.

Your moans are nonsensical, bucking your hips off the couch and squirming uncontrollably. Matty spits on your cunt, moving his hand to pinch at your clit. “Fuck! Oh my God, Matty. Don’t tease.”

“God or Me, which one?” He laughs, pressing a light kiss to your clit. “You haven’t taken any photos, Miss ‘pro’.” He brings up Ross’ words from earlier, the realization causing you to smile. The smile is wiped away, though, when he runs his two fingers through your slit and puts them inside of you.

Your mind clears, and you finally take a photo. You don’t even bother to check the shot anymore, just clicking the button mindlessly. Matty grins and curls his fingers inside you. His tongue laying flat against your clit.

He sucks on you again, scissoring his fingers slowly. “Mm, please, Sir. Gonna cum, please.” You beg, hoping he won’t take it away from you. That he’ll just allow you to let go. You take another picture, the top of his hair and bottom of your abdomen most likely the only things visual.

“C’mon, baby. Cum for me and I’ll give you what you really want. Fill you up with this cock.” He stutters in his words, and you realize his other hand went down to lightly stroke himself. More precum that he’s been using to lubricate himself.

You cum with a shout, that’s muffled by his lips on yours. Matty swallows your moans, sticking his tongue in your mouth instead. You can barely taste yourself on his tongue, and you ride his fingers through your orgasm. “Matty, Matty. Shit, thank you.” You pant, chest heaving.

“Good girl.” He pats the top of your head condescendingly, snickering. He stands back up to his full height. “Don’t thank me yet, ‘M just getting started with you.” His hand comes behind your back, unclipping your bra and letting it fall to your lap. “Lift your hips up, love.”

You do as he says, letting him pull your panties off. He throws both scraps of fabric somewhere on the grand. His hand immediately going towards your tits. He grabs a handful, and starts kissing down your neck.

“Sir, need you now. Can’t wait anymore.” Matty’s lips attach to your collarbone. He bites you, sucking on the spot. He licks over the red mark, moving to another spot on your neck to do the same.

“You’ll fuckin’ wait if I make you. Do anything to please me, right?” You nod, head rolling to rest on your shoulder. You finally feel satisfied when Matty takes his cock, resting it just above your pussy.

He lines himself up, but never goes where you need him. He keeps bumping your clit, every time making your body twitch. He holds your hip in place, the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. The only coherent thing coming out of your mouth is please, mixes of Matty and Sir.

He puts his tip inside of you, feeling you clench and then quickly pulling out. You whine, trying to move down the couch and put him back in. “Beg for me if you want it so bad, baby.” Matty is hard, and you know he must be aching as bad as you are. His cock and angry red, you know he needs to give in soon.

“Please! Please, I need it. Need you so bad.” You’re not above begging, obviously. And Matty loved it. He groaned, your wet cunt coming in contact with his dick again.

“Need what? Gotta use your words like a big, or I won’t know.” He rubbed his cock down your slit, pressing on top of your clit. He moved his hips forward slightly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

You threw your head back, “You! Your cock, Matty. Need it inside me.” You tried to close your legs, clenching around nothing and needing friction. Matty gripped your inner thighs, prying them apart and pressing them to either end of the couch.

He lined himself up with your dripping hole again, slipping inside of you slightly. “Gonna give it to you, ruin you.” With that, Matty thrusted inside of you. He started slow, half his cock inside of you. He was stretching you out so good, letting you adjust. “More,” You grit out, teeth clenching in your head.

“Was gonna give it to you gently.” He pressed more of himself inside of you, watching you shake your head. His hand came up to grip your jaw, making you look at him. “You don’t want it slow, right? Just wanna be fucked dumb.” Matty pushed the rest of his cock inside of you. Finally, you were taking him in full.

“Yes! Yes, Sir.” You feel so whole, so full. It makes you want to scream, and you bring your knuckle to your mouth and bite down. You see Matty reaching behind your head for something, and see him with the camera in hand.

He pulls halfway out of you, and the camera shutters yet again. “Look at the way you grip me, christ. Just milking my cock. He starts pounding into you again, hips slapping against yours.

Matty has a steady rhythm, it feels so fucking good for you. You keep clenching around him, and you’re close again from your other orgasm. “Faster, sir. Please.” You jut your lips out. “Wanna cum.” Matty laughs.

“Thought you wanted to be my toy, huh? Sit so pretty for me and take it? That’s dirty, you know, babe. Toys don’t get to cum.” He pouts at you in faux sympathy, eyes casting down towards you. The leather couch was making you sweat now, his gaze piercing through you.

“Please, Sir. Need it so bad, I’ll be so good. I’ll be quiet.” You whined, hips coming off the couch before Matty’s strong hand pushes you back down. Letting your head fall back, a gasp escapes your mouth again when his hand attaches to your clit.

“You’re greedy. Already came once and begging like a slut for it again.” He presses down on your clit, thrusting into you harder. He does go faster, speeding up his rhythm. Your stomach turns and you know you won’t be able to hold it.

Matty’s hand comes to rest lightly on your throat, pressing his thumb into one of the hickeys. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Let go.”

You do, with a shout so loud Matty doesn’t even bother covering it. He’s too focused on reaching his own release. He speeds up even more, riding you through your orgasm and making you overstimulated. “Fuck, fuck. Good girl. Where can I cum, baby?”

“My mouth.” You say with no hesitation, and he pulls out of you cunt. Matty moves up slightly, and pumps his cock above you. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, and the visual makes him cum. He throws his head back with a loud moan, letting his cock hit your bottom lip.

You swallow, holding his eye contact. He curses under his breath, picking the camera back up and taking a picture of you like that. Then, one with his thumb pulling on your bottom lip before he wipes the corner of your mouth with it.

You giggle. “You taste good.” You watch him step off the couch, searching for your clothes. He finds your underwear and bra, bringing it back over to you. When he realizes there’s nothing to clean you up with, he leans down and licks your cunt.

You shriek out. “Could say the same about how you taste.” He winks at you, handing you your clothes so you can get dressed. He goes to find his own and do the same. You hide your face in your hands.

“No way you’re shy, you just had my dick inside of you.” He rolls his eyes, throwing his shirt back on. Tone full of amusement and disbelief.

“Doesn’t mean you have to be vulgar.” You joke, strapping back into your leggings. The anxiety about Lexi and his band mates is hitting you now, but there’s no going back. “Thank you.”

He looks over, a wide grin on his face. Matty grabs your shoulders. “No, thank you. Best photoshoot of my career.” He walks over to the door, and you take long strides to catch up with him.

You smooth a hand over your hair and straighten out your clothes. It’s no use though, because when you open up the door and walk into the hall with Matty, they all know.

Lexi and the guys all stood there, knowing smiles on their faces. George even starts laughing when you both walk out. Adam’s head hung with his shoulders shaking, and Ross a smirk on his face.

“Think Matty got the all inclusive session, then?” George says, causing the rest of the group to burst out in laughter. You shrink in on yourself, looking over to see Matty’s grin. Lexi shoots you a look. A timid smile, but her eyes say ‘we’ll talk later.’

Matty giggles, humming. “Mhmm, don’t be jealous.” He shrugs looking between Lexi and you. “Contact us again for another shoot, then? We love your work, and would love to come back.” His eyes go to your face for the last bit, and you nod.

They all say their goodbyes, exchanging handshakes and stares. When they walk out, Matty catches your eye again through the window. Waving, and pulling out a cigarette.

…

Later, when you’re cleaning up the studio, you find a folded piece of paper under the front desk. A 10 digit phone number, a small heart and the words Matty scrawled under it.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Boyfriend

A/N: as requested by @yukizaldi. Sorry it’s kind of shit. I haven’t written in a bit and I feel like I’ve forgotten how words work. warnings: smut. **** It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that every committed boyfriend, must, sooner or later, have the period routine down. And Matty fancied himself an expert. As much of an expert as a heterosexual man who has never had a period can be, anyway. He took pride in his system. He kept track. He remembered the flowers and the chocolate. He refilled hot water bottles without being asked, kept the pain killers on hand, happily drove to the drugstore, or ice cream shop, to get tampons and sugary desserts. His strategy was always to get ahead of things before they could happen. Have everything she could possibly need within her reach, so she’d never feel the need to even ask. All that left is the cuddles and Lowe stomach rubs. That part wasn’t restricted to bad period days, though. Matty always eagerly  provided that. 

But, one thing he learned the hard way was that, even for a biological reoccurrence that took place every month for decades of a woman’s life, a  menstrual cycle can, not only be unpredictable, but make her unpredictable, too. 

“Take off your pants.” She panted, into his mouth, kissing him, and biting his lip. 

He mewled, softly, his hands fumbling with the buttons of his jeans. He didn’t get very far before  his hands were crushed by the weight of her hips rolled against his, pushing him against the wall. 

“B-baby….s-slow down.” 

“Shush, Matty. Please. No talking. Just fucking. Okay? I- I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

And how could he not be flattered that his girlfriend wants to jump his bones the very second that he walks through the door?

She got down on her knees, her hands pushing his out of the way and pulling down his waist hugging pants. 

She rubbed his clothed, half hardened cock, listening for his hissing and reveling in the slight bucking of his hips. She felt her mouth watering at the prospect of having him between her lips. 

“Gonna take you out now…”

Matty nodded, eager, cursing, hotly, under his breath. “Christ.”

Slowly, her hand wrapped around him, working him with deft flicks of her wrist, until he was stiff, ready to burst against his own stomach. 

She took him in her mouth, her tongue rubbing the underside of his tip while her hand tugged lightly on his balls. 

“FUCK!” Matty’s legs shook; his palm slammed against the wall in an attempt to steady himself, his hips reflexively. Thrusting into her mouth. “Sh-shit. Sorry…”

She didn’t seem to mind, though, her lips smiles around his cock. The sight so sinful it almost undid him right then and there. Encouraged by his moans, she moved faster, sucking him harder, to the rhythm of his flustered cries and the contracting and relaxing of the muscles in his stomach. 

“No, no, no- stop, stop.” Matty begged, frantic. “If- if you don’t stop, I’m- not gonna make it to the bedroom.” His face turned red. 

***

Matty winced, feeling her grind into his lap. Their lips crashed together, needily, as his hands felt around for the hem of her top. She let him remove her t shirt; his arm snaked around her back to unclasp her bra. The discomfort she felt when the underwire slid from underneath her breasts  sounded a warning in the back of her mind; but she promptly dismissed it, her desire for him outweighing any and all other feelings. 

Matty’s hand cupped her breast, his thumb swiping over her nipple. She jolted, her body tensing up, and not in good way. Waiting for the worst of the pain to pass, she leaned into him again, her lips finding his neck. 

Matty’s hands roamed her body, cradling her back at first, then resting at her neck, before sliding, slowly, down her sides, his fingers tracing her skin. He squeezed her hips, his body instinctively rolling into hers. She felt a wave of cramps hit her, interrupting the needy pleasure of being entangled with him and yanking her out of the moment. She moaned, in a way that sounded closer to pain than pleasure, giving Matty a brief moment of pause. His eyes reluctantly pulled open, watching her searchingly. When she showed no signs of slowly down, he dismissed his doubts, giving himself back to her, his hands reaching for her again, cupping her breasts, squeezing them slightly. his thumb pinch her right nipple. 

She winced loudly. “Ow no- ouch!”

“Sorry- fuck- was that not…”

“No, no. It’s fine.”  She looked down at her breasts. 

“Okay, I’m no mind reader but it was decidedly not fine. It did not sound like the ‘ouch’ of a fine person. Sounded like the ‘ouch’ of someone in pain.”

Her hands cupped his face, attempting to pull him in seductively. Another wave of cramps hit her, and despite her best attempt to stay calm, he could see it in the way that she squeezed her eyes. 

“Baby, no- hang on a minute- no.” As much as he loved being kissed by her, he wouldn’t budge. 

She groaned. Mumbling something under her breath and laying her head on him. 

unexpectedly, he felt a strange dampness against his chest. His brows furrowed, looking down, “babe?”

The sob she’d been holding escaped her lips. She burst into tears. 

“Oh my- fuck! What’s happened? Are you alright?” Matty panicked, his hand tilting her face up to meet her eyes. “What is it? What’s going on?”

“No-nothing.” She sniffled, rolling her eyes. Both at his concern, and her own dramatic tears. “I’m just- I ….want…” she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’m so fuckin horny. I want to cum so bad.”

“So- you’re crying?”

“No, genius!” She hit his forehead against his chest as if against a walll. “I wanna fuck you so bad but also- I feel so - my tits are so sore. And….I feel so gross and bloated. I’m tired. My legs- feel like I’ve run a marathon. And then a 10K. And then walked up a mountain. But I’m just….so- “

“Horny?”

“So. Fuckin. Horny.” She whined. 

As if her words had flipped a switch within him, Matty’s entire demeanor shifted, wasting no time in providing her with comfort. His hands rubbed her lower stomach as she rambled on about the various, sometimes conflicting, symptoms of periods, expressing in graphic detail all the things that she wished she could do to him if it weren’t for the alarm levels of exhaustion that she’d been plagued with. Matty did his best to be a listener. But he was never good at hiding his amusement, letting his giggling get away from him occasionally. 

“I’m sorry, darling.” He whispered in her ear. “Wish you’d said something sooner.” 

“I don’t- I don’t want the cutesy stuff.” She stated defensively. 

“What?”

“I- know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna try to make me feel better and feed me chocolate and watch a romcom and get me a hot water bottle….i don’t want that.”

Matty frown. “Hey! I thought you liked when I did that!”

“I did- I do….sometimes. Just- not right now.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Well, what- what do you need right now?”

“Need to cum.”

“I can-“

“But I don’t feel sexy.”

Matty scratched his head. “May I ask….what- how do you feel?”

“Sweaty and huge and like my feelings are half my body weight and also hungry.”

He giggled, taking her in his arms and kissing her. “Very well. I can work with that. I think.”

****

Matty emerged out of their master bathroom, smelling, nauseatingly of a strong mix of essential oils, like the local Lush store had exploded on him. 

“Warm bubble bath should be ready any minute, m’lady.”

She rolled her eyes, hiding her blushing face. “M’lady? Really?”

“Can I get you anything to drink? Something to take into the bath with you perhaps?”

She shook her head. 

“Very well then.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “That give us about…well, I’ll have to do my best work, but I’m up for a challenge.” He grinned at her suggestively. 

“What-“ before the realization dawned on her, he’d picked her up in his arms, tossing her playful back onto the bed. “We’re gonna need a towel for this. Spread your legs for me.” 

[trumanbluee]

an encounter - matty healy

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!

content; you meet a stranger in the bar after your breakup ;)

word count: 3271

warnings: somewhat dubious consent (reader is intoxicated), unsafe sex (wrap it b4 you tap it!!) dom/sub undertones, degradation, teasing. lmk if i missed anything! <3

a/n: hi !!! this is the first fic i'm ever posting!! eek! i dont know how many people are going to see this but please tell me if you like it!!!

It’s not often she spilt her entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this stranger, with his head of ringlets upon ringlets of messy, dark curls, plush light-pink lips, and deep, chocolate brown eyes, was particularly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It made her want to give him everything, and absentmindedly, in her alcohol-riddled mind, she’d thought he would be a good scammer, or serial killer, whichever he prefers really. 

But it's not entirely his fault; she’s stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit her system ten-fold. 

She’s there because she’d broken up with her boyfriend the night before. They’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and she let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right? 

Wrong. He’d been cheating on her since he went to Australia — four months, now — with a pretty little Sheila that he wanted to marry.

She was furious when he told her, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but she began seeing all the differences between her and the woman he cheated on her with: she, a perfect homemaker, her, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month. 

“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” The soft english voice of the man across the bar cut through the buzz of her hazy, drunken brain, bringing her back to reality. “Cause he’s a right dickhead. For cheating on you like that.”

The man had entered the bar hours after she did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the soccer game on the TV above the bar, before she’d drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant her dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here she was now.  

She peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but she can’t tell if she actually thinks that, or her foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail her into next week. 

No matter, she thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of her throat sweetly, fire trailing down her insides. “M’not beating myself up,” she protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,” 

He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as is she.

“Well,” he inched closer, large hand setting itself on her thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.” 

This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with her: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from her face, later he swiped a drop of her Sex On The Beach off her lip, then he’d clutched her by the waist, pulling her close to him when someone squeezed past her in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in her ear. 

Then, there’s a gap in her memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt she’d donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in her ear was too much for her dizzy head, and the only thing she remembers is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and the next, she’s pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee knocking her quivering legs apart. 

They’re trading wet, sloppy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up her shirt till they reach her chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching her breasts needily.

He’s kneading her softly, fingers pawing at her flesh like he’d never felt something so soft, so plump. Her back arches as he does this; she’s practically putty in his hands. 

It doesn’t slip past her that she’s being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom she doesn’t know the name of, but she doesn't care. “Please,” she begs, his name coming up completely blank on her tongue, “please.”

“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, hot breath against her ear as one of his hands moves from her breasts up to her jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to her neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”

She’s too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so she whines instead of answering, her weak fingers carding through his dark curls. 

“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”

His words make her cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes her core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to her problems all night telling her she’s just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got her all hot and bothered. 

“Please,” she begs again, more desperate than before, “I need you.”

The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly. 

He had noticed how her legs clenched around his knee, how her breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how her fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch. 

She bit her lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed her by the waist and turned her to press her face against the wall. 

One of his arms then draped across her shoulders, pinning her down and arching her back, hard, making her ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. She let out a small gasp at the feeling, and she could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face

He can’t be that big, right? It was just her drunk mind, making him feel bigger than she thought through his shorts. Plus, she hadn’t been fucked in over a month — she was probably just not used to it. . 

Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something.

 However, these days, she’d learned that she didn't have the best intuition. First, with her boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently. 

“Oh, fuck,” she cursed, head straining to look at him behind her. Unconsciously, she shyly closed her legs at the sight of him. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between her legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”

Completely flush against each other, she could feel his hard length resting between her legs. Just that, just him between her, already had her trembling in anticipation.

“Then fuck me already,” she bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, she was thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, her, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when her boyfriend made his routine visit. She was a loyal girl, alright, and her fingers never went as deep as any cock could.

But the moment for her to reveal her worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.”

Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of her ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on her cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom.

Her breath caught in her throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and she flushed. Thank god she was pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to her burning face.

He’d spanked her, and she’d fucking moaned.

“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of her panties.

“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against her, her folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”

He slowly slid in and out against her folds, his cock just barely grazing her clit, and she swore she could have screamed. The way he was teasing her was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous.

“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing light circles on the skin of her hip.

She let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” she squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked her tight hole.

“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into her.

“I came here to…” she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ground her thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“

Then, the loudest keen she’d ever heard tore out of her, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into her soaking cunt.

He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching her knees buckle and mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on her ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom. 

“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking her like that.

But the way he insulted, complimented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had her shuddering; never in her life did she think such dirty words could make her so wet.

She barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout her body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how her walls squeezed around his cock had her barely coherent, face taut with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for her to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into her, and another helpless groan rolled off her tongue.

“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing her against the wall shifted, now covering her mouth.

Before she could protest, he slid out, then snapped into her. Immediately, she saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past her lips.

“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little pussy’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast she could barely comprehend the ecstasy she was feeling.

“Oh my god,” she barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of her relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for her moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into her sweet cunt.

Then, the two heard the bathroom door open, and she froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing her by the waist and planting her on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on her mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from her throat: this new position of her on his lap had his long length pressed right against her cervix.

“Now you really gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispered, pressing his face into her neck. She shut her eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting her mouth.

“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on her shoulder, laying his head on her back.

The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into her, his large hands coming to rest on her hips and help her slide up and down on his cock.

Her eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” she said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving her mouth, but she was completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure she felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on.

“Shh,” was all she saw him say, as she strained her neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.

Without his hand to muffle her groans, she muffled them herself, biting down on her tongue. One hand of hers gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep her balance, and her other hand sneakily travelled down to her wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at her clit.

He noticed this, however, hand gripping at her wrist and pulling her back to pin her arm behind her. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”

She let out a shaky exhale at his words, but she found her cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of her skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did she really get more turned on by what he’d said?

Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside the one the two of them occupied, exited the bathroom entirely, and she belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked her up and pressed her against the wall once more, this time facing him.

He plunged his big cock into her like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into her hips she swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into her, not even a fucking meteor. 

She, on the other hand, was arching, the pleasure taking her body over completely. Her hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into her. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time.

Her tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like she was made with his fat length in mind, and it drove her up the fucking wall: the pain in her hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and her orgasm began to spill out from under her. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.

“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Her cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like she was afraid he’d never come back to her.

She nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of  words.

He grinned, and lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into her. Her toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past her slick folds.

One of his hands lifted off her hip and trailed across her lower stomach, “Can you feel that, baby? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge.

Both were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and her a feverish mewl. She couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on her from the outside.

Suddenly, she remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before she had dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put her drinks on his tab, under the name Matty.

Her face grew taut, her orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across her face. “Matty! Matty, please,” she moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on her tongue.

“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged her through her orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of her throbbing core. 

It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within her insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout her entire body like she wasn’t already being fucked relentlessly.

“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning in to rest his head against her chest. She was weak, sensitively riding out her high, but she knew Matty wasn’t quite as close.

His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling her walls against every inch of him. Her head rested beside his own, eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation.

Despite her orgasm, her cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both her skirt and his pants. It made her tremble, thinking of them both tiredly exiting the bathroom, dishevelled and having to cover the other up.

At this point, she didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting her mouth, with Matty’s grunts and groans covering up her whines completely.

“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”

“You do! Matty does!” She exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of her quicker and more jolted. “Matty owns this pussy!”

Matty grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within her. He clenched his jaw, brown eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of her cunt squeezing him for every drop.

You was so fucking full, and even when Matty pulled his softening cock out of her — which, was still huge despite its idleness — she felt stuffed to the brim.

His come dripped down her leg, and he promptly pulled her panties up, patting her worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good baby.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to her neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”

“Told you so.” She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking her to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within her own, clasping tightly. She didn’t really mean round two - though, she wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking her - she actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead her.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through her cheekily, pulling her close to him.

So, she did go home with him, and in the morning she laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, studying the beauty of his face whilst he slept. After that, they made frequent visits to that pub, specifically to the final stall on the left in the mens bathroom.

[notenoughncise]

Why Don’t You Talk to Matty About it?

word count: 2.5K

f!reader x matty

tags: angst, happy ending

warnings: alcohol, mentions of smut but no actual smut

after pining after matty since they became friends 15 years ago, it all comes to a head for y/n on a drunken night out

——————————————————————————

You’re nearly two bottles of wine deep when she comes up to the table.

“Hiiiiii… I just wanted to say that I’m a massive fan of yours. I loooove the new album!”

She’s drunk as fuck; stumbling over her words, gripping his shoulder to keep herself steady. You feel the jealousy burning through your entire body. It’s a chore not to show it; to smile instead of scowl at her, to drink from your glass at a normal pace instead of throwing it down your throat.

He turns his head to look up at her, smiling so genuinely that you want to claw your eyes out. He’s drunk too, you can see it in the way he clumsily puts his hands over the one she has on his shoulder, eyes glazed over.

“Aw, thank you, Darlin’. We’re glad you like it.”

You feel sick. He’s looking at her so gently, like he might spook her if he doesn’t. She’s just a fan saying hello, you scream at yourself internally, stop being a fucking melt. And it almost works, you almost calm down, and then she giggles and plops herself down next to him. You breathe in sharply, tightening your grip on your glass.

George puts his hand on your thigh, and in leans in to whisper to you.

“Y/N, you need to chill out.”

George is right. You know he is. He’s always fucking right. You need to get a grip. 32 years old and so hung up on your teenage crush that you’re seriously considering squaring up to a teenager. And for what? A man who maybe looks your way twice on a good day? That’s not true. You aren’t being fair. Sometimes you think you see it in his eyes, but it disappears so fast. You can’t ever tell if it was really there. And he smiles, he smiles so softly just for you; so softly it makes you weak in the knees, makes you smile back a shit eating grin every time.

But what does it matter - he isn’t yours. You’re just ‘the friend’, the one woman he can count on to not try it on with him. He told you as much one time, sat huddled together in the freezing cold on someone’s back door step when you were 17. And what were you supposed to say to that? ‘Uhh, actually Matty…’, Yeah right. You smiled and took the fag that was dangling between his fingers, taking the longest drag you could manage so you didn’t have to reply. And here you are, over 15 years later, smiling sweetly and keeping your mouth occupied so you don’t ruin your life.

You’ve got a face like thunder, you can feel it. But you can’t stop it. You can’t stop looking at him, can’t stop the jealousy ripping through you. A jealousy you don’t really have a right to have. He’s got you all wound up. He’s not even looking at you and you’re on the edge of your seat.

But who are you kidding? He’s always got you wound up. Always got your knees on the verge of buckling, always got you hanging onto every word he says. You feel your whole body pulse every time he looks your way. You always have. It’s a curse you can’t escape. Not to be dramatic but sisyphus had it easy compared to you.

You all watch as he runs his hands up and down her waist, keeping his eyes on her. She giggles, bites her lip, clearly living out her rockstar fantasy. You want to strangle her. You wish this wine glass was her and you could just squeeze and squeeze and squeeze and-

“You need another drink, Y/N?” George asks, sensing that you need to be taken away from the table immediately.

“I would love another drink.”

-

George holds open the door to the smoking area for you.

You fumble with the packet, can’t find your lighter, realise that Matty bumped it earlier and never put it back.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

It’s too much. It’s the last straw. Here you are crouched down in a dingy smoking area on the verge of bawling your eyes out. All because some stupid child is holding Matty’s attention. She’s not a child, you think to yourself. She’s obviously old enough to be in here but oh what does it matter. You can’t think straight anymore.

You can’t stop thinking about his hands on her, how you wish they were on you. You’re so jealous. So jealous that she just sat down right next to him and melted onto his body. She did something in 10 seconds that you haven’t done in 10 years. And is it really that easy? Do you just need to hike your dress up, drag out your vowels, and bat your eyelashes? Will you he fuck you senseless then? Take you into the bathrooms and show you what next week looks like?

But that’s not really want you want, is it? It’s just easier to think about him if you convince yourself you only want to fuck him. That all you want is his hands in your hair and your lips on his neck. That you don’t want him in a nice, normal way at all. You don’t think about being the girl in his Instagram stories, or waking up in his arms every morning, or… or…

“This is getting pathetic, Y/N.” George’s hand is gently resting on your shoulder. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks at you with that sort of sad face you have when you can’t hide that you think someone’s being a massive twat.

“Yeah, I know. Believe me I fucking know.” You don’t mean it to sound as sad as it does. George crouches down next to you, running his hand up and down your arm.

You couldn’t count the amount of times you and George have sat like this; cuddled together as you cried about Matty. It never gets old, it’s almost a monthly event now. He joked once that you need to start marking it on the calendar for him so he can wear something he doesn’t mind you covering with makeup. You’ve become unexpectedly close. You never knew him well until that same fateful night you were put in your place by Matty. That was the first time - you sat cross legged on the kitchen counter with your lip quivering and your chest heaving, and George just held your hand until you calmed down.

“You can’t just keep crying about him. If he doesn’t feel the same way it won’t change anything; you’ll be embarrassed for a couple weeks and then it’ll all fall back into place. He’s a dick but he loves you more than anything, Y/N. You know he wouldn’t be mean about it. You know that.”

You choke back a sob. You know he’s right, it wouldn’t change anything really. You’re both adults, no one’s 16 anymore. It can be mature, you can both be sensible. But it’s always the same; gone are your inhibitions and in their place is Matty, clouding up your senses.

“I can’t do it George,” you whisper softly, wiping underneath your eyes with the sleeve of your dress, “I can’t risk losing him. I’d rather never have him the way I want and still have him here than never have him the way I want and not have him here.”

It’s too quiet. It’s quite sudden, it’s uncomfortable. It’s just a girl crying over a crush, except the girl’s in her 30’s and the crush is her best friend.

George pulls himself up off the ground, holding out his hands to help you. You take them gently and you both giggle when you fall flat on your arse. You dust yourself off and stand up properly. George takes a lighter from his pocket and lights the slightly crumpled fag you forgot you’ve been gripping onto.

“Sorry for being a massive gimp.” You laugh gently.

“S’alright, Y/L/N. My favourite thing about you.” He tries to keep his face straight but breaks into a massive grin, laughing along with you.

“I’m fine. I promise, I’m just… I don’t know, I don’t really have the words for it, to be honest with you.”

“Look, we’re gonna go back in there, get another drink, request whatever ridiculous song it takes to cheer you up, and we’re gonna have a fucking great time. Okay?”

“Okay.” You smile at him. You don’t know how anyone survives in this world without George Daniel.

He pulls you into a hug, and you can’t help but start crying again. You wipe at the tears but it does nothing other than ruin your makeup even more.

“I’m gonna look a fucking state when I go back in there.”

“Eh, it’s dark. No one will be able to tell.”

“Wow,” you laugh out, “thanks George, very reassuring.”

“Always welcome, love. Now come on, it’s fucking freezing. You can cry about being in love inside.”

As George starts to lead you back inside, you hear Matty’s voice echoing out towards you.

“Y/N? George? You guys out here? You’ve been gone for ages.” Panic pulses through you as Matty’s voice fills the smoking area.

You’re still glued to George when Matty stumbles onto you both. He looks so worried, distressed. And then he looks confused. Confused why you’re crying, why you’re clinging to George like your life depends on it.

“Yeah, yeah we’re out here. Jus’ having a chat.” George says, rubbing your back with one hand and wiping away your smudged mascara with the other.

You smile gently at Matty, not quite able to meet his eyes. You’re embarrassed, there’s really no other words for it. No excuses, no nothing, the man you’re crying your eyes out about has just wandered in on you doing it. And where do you go from there?

“Y/N? What’s going on, sweetheart? Why you crying so hard?”

He placed a hand on your check, wiping at the bottom of your eyes with his thumb. Fuck sake, your eyes begin watering again (not that they ever stopped). You don’t want to have this conversation. No one wants to have this conversation. George especially doesn’t want to be in the middle of said conversation.

“I’m Okay, Matty.”

He looks sceptical - he knows you too well for this.

“Honestly, Matty, really, I’m okay.”

Lying straight through your teeth to Matty is a fully developed talent at this stage in your life, but you just don’t have the conviction tonight. He tries to meet your eyes again. but you can’t get them off your shoes. You hear him sigh. Shame burns in you - since when couldn’t you spew shit at Matty to keep him on the wrong track?

“Darlin’… Come on, you think I don’t know you well enough to know that’s not true?”

“Matty… Please, just leave it.”

“Okay, I can’t be arsed anymore. You two are getting left to sort this out.” George makes a move towards the door, and before you can process what just happened he’s back inside.

“Fuck.” You try and run after him, but Matty grips your wrist.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on? Why are you crying and why are you lying to me about it, Darlin’?”

His face is so gentle. His grip on your wrist has loosened but he hasn’t let go. Curls falling in his eyes, fingers on your pulse. It’s too much. It’s too much. And then his other arm snakes around your waist and you can’t do it anymore. Your chest is so tight it might combust. And your face is so hot in the cold London weather that it burns. After an eternity, you meet his eyes.

“I… I can’t… I can’t, Matty. I can’t.”

The grip tightens, he pulls you closer.

“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”

“Oh fuck off, Matthew.” You half sigh, half giggle.

“Use ‘em, come on, use ‘em. Why don’t you talk to Matty about it?”

You laugh gently, watching as his face breaks out in a smile. God he’s so pretty. His hand is still cradling your check, thumb gently gliding over your skin. You don’t want to use your words. You don’t want to talk about this at all.

“Y/N?”

“I’m fine, really. You can go back to flirting with the borderline high schooler.”

It comes out meaner than you wanted it to, and you watch as Matty’s face falls. Fuck. So much for not having this conversation.

“Her? That’s what this is about? A fan I spoke to for less than five minutes?”

You try to move away from him, your cheeks burning red from the embarrassment - like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar. But his grip on your wrist and waist tightens and he pulls you back in.

“Don’t make me do this Matty. I mean it. Please.” Tears well in your eyes, this could be it. This could be the last time Matty ever holds you like this, ever winds you up to stop you from crying. You don’t want it to end. How could you ever want this to end.

“Y/N, are you seriously jealous of a fucking 18 year old? Do you think I’d do that to you? Really? Come on, Darlin’ use that pretty head of yours.”

You’re too busy trying not to let the tears drop that you almost don’t catch the look of sheer panic in his eyes. It stops you in your tracks. Why does he look panicked? Why would he look panicked? Your heart races.

“Matty?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

You’re so close to each other you’re basically breathing the same air. His hand around your waist has been holding yours, your other hand has just been dangling at your side since you didn’t know what to do with it. You know what to do with it now; you bring it up to the hand he has on your cheek, closing your fingers over the top of his.

“What exactly would I need to use my pretty head to figure out?”

“Fuck sake…”

“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah - fucking c’mere.”

You would’ve laughed at him if you had time (and if you hadn’t been so shocked), but his lips latch onto yours before you can think about anything else. He’s so gentle with you, the hand that was on your waist comes up into your hair. He grips it softly, smiling to himself as you moan quietly.

Before you know it, it’s over. He pulls away from you, but he’s still so close you can hardly look at his face properly.

“I fucking hate you.” You sigh.

“Think that kiss would say otherwise, sweetheart.”

“Matthew, mate, honestly get fucked.”

“Waited 15 years but can’t wait another couple hours? My, my, my.”

“Will you fuck off?” You laugh, not meaning a single syllable of it.

“Never, darlin’. Stuck with me now.”

He kisses you softly again, smiling sweetly at you as he pulls away.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[ecemf]

The Interview — Matty Healy

18+! MDNI!!!!!! Explicit!!!

Okay so I've never written fanfic or smut before so this could be ass but I just love jealousy sex & the idea of being on a red carpet so...

CW: smut, choking, dom/sub dynamics, dom!matty, sub!reader, use of y/n, alcohol usage, jealous!matty, possessive!matty, established relationship, thigh riding, i think that's it?? lmk if i missed anything

WC: ~3k

Ok I hope y'all like it ENJOY!!

The Interview.

The cameras are almost blinding as you stare out into the crowd of photographers shouting your name, trying to get the best angle for whatever publication they’re working for. Being a top executive at Sony Music meant you mostly worked behind the scenes; out of the spotlight. However, seeing as 18 artists on your label (five of which you yourself handpicked) were up for awards tonight, you couldn’t not show up to The Grammys. Besides, it felt good to dress up once in a while, especially if that meant wearing custom Chanel.

Continuing down the red carpet, you’re stopped by a reporter for Rolling Stone, Bryan Wilson. From the few brief interactions you’ve had with him at industry parties and the stories that have circulated about him, you know the guy’s a sleaze. But, given that there’s a Canon XF605 pointed directly in your face when he asks if you have time for a short interview, you smile sweetly and comply.

“You look stunning tonight, as always, Y/N”, he begins, in typical sleazy reporter fashion, “Can you tell us a little bit about what you’re wearing?” His eyes travel down the expanse of your body, grazing (quite slowly, to be frank) over the daring V-cut of your gown.

You couldn’t really blame him for checking you out, you did look incredible in this dress. Layers of black satin expertly draped over your body created an elegant but sexy silhouette complete with a plunging neckline and a timeless backless design. You knew you looked good, you didn’t need Wilson eye-fucking you to tell.

“Isn’t this The Rolling Stone?” You giggle in response, half-joking, “Shouldn’t you be asking me about Sony Records and leave the fashion questions to Vogue?” To the untrained ear, your tone is light-hearted and sincere, however, there’s an intended edge you’re hoping is coming through.

If he was picking up on the edge, he wasn’t showing it. Wilson continues on checking you out, responding “We hear about Sony Records enough, but it’s a treat to see the woman behind the magic,” he looks directly into the camera and gestures to your body, “especially when the woman looks like this!” He looks at you now, “Why don’t you give us a spin, Y/N?”

You clench your jaw into a tight smile, “You know, I’d really rather talk about the artists up for awards tonight. It’s a record-breaking night for my company, and I’m extremely proud to be here…” You’re trying your best to refocus the conversation on the real reason you’re on the red carpet tonight, but Wilson’s wandering eyes are making it difficult for you to focus on anything.

Finally feeling fed up, you clear your throat, “Sorry, Bryan, am I boring you?”

He breaks out of his stare from your chest and goes red. “Oh! No, I’m sorry I was just… looking at your necklace!” He gestures to the Tiffany & Co. pendant that hangs (conveniently for him) right between your boobs.

“Stunning, innit?” You hear your boyfriend say from behind you as he comes up and possessively wraps his arm around your waist on camera in a way that will definitely be circulating Twitter tomorrow. “Just bought it for her yesterday when I first got to see the dress.” Matty grips your right hip so tight that the satin puckers under his fingertips. You get a feeling he’s been watching this “interview” from afar.

“A beautiful necklace for a beautiful woman, indeed,” Wilson so boldly responds, either not noticing or not caring that Matty was already quite irritated.

With that final comment, Matty grips your hip even tighter, “Right, then,” he says shortly, “Cheers, mate!” He yells over his shoulder while quickly ushering you away from the train wreck of a media appearance.

“I’m gonna kill that guy,” he leans down to quietly whisper in your ear as the two of you make your way into the venue, “Staring at you like a piece of meat live on camera, isn’t he embarrassed?”

“It’s really not a big deal, baby,” you try to reassure him. And to you, it wasn’t, really, compared to some of the other harassment and objectification you’ve experienced in such a male-dominated industry, “He’s just some stupid reporter,”

“Yeah some stupid reporter who doesn’t know how to keep his stupid fucking eyes away from what’s mine,” he growls under his breath.

You grow a bit warm at your boyfriend’s possessive words and decide to push him a little further. “So what, people aren’t allowed to look at me now? We’re kind of on a red carpet if you haven’t realized,”

Matty rolls his eyes as the two of you take your seats at your assigned table. “You know what I mean,” he scoots a bit closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, “People can look at you all they want, but these,” he trails his hand up your torso, palming your left tit and slightly grazing its nipple through your dress with his thumb. You gasp. “These are mine, and you know that.” he says lowly into your ear.

This was going to be a long night.

—

Seven wins, two acceptance speeches, and a few too many bottles of champagne later, the ceremony was coming to an end. You were so proud of your artists, even those who hadn’t won tonight.

To your (and your aching feet’s) misfortune, your boyfriend was insistent on “making an appearance” at the afterparty, to “touch base with some important blokes”. You weren’t thrilled about the ordeal, but you had a nice buzz going from the free champagne earlier and figured a gin and tonic to top off the night wouldn’t hurt anyone. Boy were you wrong.

You were standing by the bar by yourself, watching Matty “touch base” with the aforementioned “blokes”. Nursing your second gin and tonic, you wonder how much longer their conversation will take, and when you can finally go home (and take your boyfriend to bed). As your mind indulges your fantasies of being fucked to sleep later, you hear an annoying and familiar voice from behind you.

“It breaks my heart to see such a gorgeous woman drinking alone,” no one other than Bryan Wilson saunters up beside you at the bar, “Where’s your man? You think he’d be smarter than to leave such precious goods unattended…” he slurs to you, obviously a few more deep than you were at this point in the night.

As Wilson drunkenly gets too close to you, you turn back to where Matty was talking to see him staring holes into the man’s skull, clenching and unclenching his fists. Your nearing-on-past-tipsy mind flashes back to your boyfriend’s words earlier, and his reaction to the reporter’s initial efforts towards you. You consider your options: 1) tell Wilson to fuck off and continue being bored by yourself at the bar, or 2) play this up a bit, make Matty jealous, have some fun, and probably go home early. Your sixth drink of the night tells you option two is far more enticing, and you agree.

You lean into Wilson a bit, closing some of the distance you were intentionally making. “Ever the flatterer, Bryan,” you lean back and give him a once-over, “I’m shocked that you’re still single, a handsome guy like you with such a smooth mouth on him.”

“It’s intentional baby,” he puts a hand on your arm - uh oh. “Why would I tie down this smooth mouth to one lucky lady? There’s plenty enough to go around…” and just as you think he’s about to make a move you feel a bruising grip on your upper arm tearing you away. Away from Bryan Wilson, away from the bar, away from the party.

You get your bearings and find yourself in a secluded hallway outside the party with your very angry, very sexy boyfriend staring you in the face. “What the fuck was that?” He spits at you, fuming.

“What was what?” You respond, looking up at Matty with your best doe eyes.

He cages your body in between his own and the wall of the hallway, “Don’t play stupid with me now, things can only get worse for you from here, pet.” As you look up at your very jealous partner, and feel the energy radiating off of him, you think to yourself that things can probably only get better.

You maintain your look of faux-innocence as you reply in your sweetest voice “Baby I was just talking to-“

“Don’t ‘baby’ me,” Matty growls as he grabs your throat and pushes you harder into the wall behind you. “You were letting that perv practically fuck you in front of everybody here. Making everyone think you’re anything but mine.” He pushes his hips into yours to punctuate the word, and you can feel how hard he is. Oh dear. Maybe it’s time to drop the act.

“I’m sorry, you were just taking so long talking to those guys, and I was getting so impatient and needy for you,” You bat your eyelashes in an attempt to seduce your way out of undoubtedly being fucked silly in some corner of this hotel right now. “I just want you to take me home, baby,” You run your hands down his chest, the way you know he likes.

Matty scoffs at this. “Aw, my poor little slut can’t wait longer than an hour for me to take her home and fuck her?” You feel a heat pool at your center from his words and absolute condescension. His hand around your neck comes up to grip your jaw, holding your head so that you can’t look anywhere but his eyes. “So fucking pathetic. Having to whore yourself around in public so that I can give you some attention? Trying to embarrass me in front of all our colleagues meanwhile, the only thing embarrassing is how stupid you look letting that scumbag put his hands on you,”

He holds your face an inch away from his own, his eyes searching for a response in yours. “I think you may need to be reminded just who you belong to.” He says darkly. And with that, he’s dragging you again, this time into the bathroom at the other end of the hallway.

As soon as the door closes he has you pressed up against it face-first. He wastes no time undoing the back of your dress, practically ripping it off of your body. You hope he doesn’t do any damage to the new gown, but to be honest, you’re not sure you care in this moment either way. Upon removing the dress, your boyfriend can see that you’ve forgone any undergarments (half because of the dress itself, half because you knew it would drive him crazy - which it does).

“Oh my fucking god,” he practically moans when he sees your now naked form pressed up against the door for him. “You’ve been ready for me all night, haven’t you princess?” He whispers in your ear, pressing himself to your back, slightly grinding into your bare ass. You squirm with his words and the minimal stimulation he provides.

“Well let’s just take a look,” He reaches his hand around from where he’s standing and drags a finger through your soaking folds agonizingly slowly. Your breath hitches. “Oh my poor girl,” he tuts, “how long have you been soaking through your dress baby?” He resumes his teasing, touching everywhere that isn’t your clit or your entrance. You whine and push your hips back in protest.

Matty grabs you by your waist and holds you in place against the door. “I think I asked you a question, slut.” He barks. You only grow wetter at his words and his toying.

“Since-“ you start, but you’re cut off by a moan when he takes his free hand to pull on your left nipple. His teasing is almost overwhelming, and you’re not sure you even remember the question the way your head is clouded with lust and need.

You’re pulled out of your hazy state by a hard slap to your pussy, “Since what? Huh? I haven’t even taken my cock out and you’re already fucked dumb. Answer me. How long have you been this wet?” He asks again, rolling your nipple between his fingers while inching closer and closer to your entrance with his calloused hand.

“Since you were grabbing my hips on the red carpet,” you manage to stutter out “during the interview.”

With that answer, he removes both of his hands from you. You put your hands up to brace yourself from slamming into the door from your newfound loss of support. Matty laughs darkly.

“So that’s what this is about, huh angel?” He grabs you by your hips, spinning to face him and pushing you even harder into the door behind you, “you like it when I get riled up, so I’ll treat you like the whore that you are?”

You look up at him with your glazed-over eyes and nod dumbly.

“Well here’s the problem with that,” Matty begins sucking on your neck harshly, no doubt leaving bruises, “You… are… my… whore… no… one… else’s…” he punctuates every word by leaving a new mark on your chest with his mouth. He takes a step back, admiring his handiwork. “Gorgeous,” he mutters as he admires your now hickey-covered tits, “you should really see this baby.”

Matty leads you over to the sink of the bathroom, turning you around to see your naked and marked-up form in the mirror. Looking at the new marks on your chest, you realize that he’s left them in the distinct pattern of your dress’s neckline, meaning there’s no hiding them. No hiding the fact that you’re his. You squeeze your thighs together at the thought.

Leaning over your shoulder in the mirror, you watch as your boyfriend trails his hand down your body to the place you need him most. Unsurprisingly, though, he doesn’t touch you, he simply ghosts his hand over the outside of your now sopping heat. You press yourself into him.

“Please, baby,” you whine, making your best puppy eyes in the mirror at him. “Please, I need you to touch me.” You’re so desperate he doesn’t even need to ask you to beg.

“Do you think you deserve to be touched?” He responds, continuing his teasing, “You’ve been quite a bad girl tonight, baby. And bad girls don’t get what they want.”

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you beg even more, tears forming at your eyes with the desperation he’s built in you.

“Prove it,” Matty responds, trailing his hand up to your mouth. You gladly take his digits in, watching as he toys with you and stretches you out, wishing he would do that in other places. You hear the clinking of his belt, and you perk up, thinking that maybe he’s just going to put you out of your horny misery and fuck you already, but of course he’s not.

“Can’t have you getting yourself all over my nice trousers now can we love?” He says as he pulls his pants down to his ankles. You watch still with all four of his fingers in your mouth as he takes his newly naked thigh and roughly slots it in between your legs from behind. Your eyes roll back at the much-needed friction it provides. Matty leans in, “Right then. Be a good girl and ride my thigh, hm? You’re gonna have to get yourself off before I believe you after tonight’s theatrics.”

Embarrassing as it may be, you are in no condition to care in this moment. You immediately start feverishly fucking your boyfriend’s thigh, moaning around his fingers at the friction you’ve been needing all night, a ball already forming in the pit of your stomach. Not more than a second after your head falls forward in relief, your boyfriend grabs you by your hair to force you to look in the mirror, “Nuh-uh” he growls, “You’re gonna watch while you fuck yourself on my thigh. You’re gonna see just how pathetic you are, crying with relief and coming undone when I’ve not even touched you.”

Matty’s words and the sight of him and you in the mirror add to the very quickly growing warmth in your body. Your skin is on fire as you grip the sink in front of you, trying to use whatever leverage you can to get yourself off faster. You take one hand to start kneading your tits, playing with your nipples, hoping some added stimulation will help; you whine at the new sensation.

“There you go princess, that’s it,” he coos in your ear, “so good f’me, taking directions so well baby.”

The praise goes straight to your core and you can feel yourself clench around nothing. Matty can tell by your breathing that you’re close, so he grabs you by your hips to help you, moving you back and forth on his thigh, assisting in your rhythm. “Come on my thigh,” he demands in your ear; and you do. That white-hot pleasure you’ve been chasing since you saw your boyfriend on the red carpet this afternoon finally washes over you. But it’s not enough.

Matty takes his fingers out of your mouth but keeps you firm against him. As you come down from your high, you look at him in the mirror desperately. Your orgasm was, well, an orgasm, but you know it could be so much better if he would just fuck you.

“Matty please,” You whine, still making sweet eye contact, “Baby, I need more.”

Matty nods his head in the direction of the door. “Put your dress on, love,” You think you might cry, until he whispers in your ear, “I’m not done with you yet, princess.”

---------

Ahh!! Should I write a pt. two when the couple gets home?? Thank y'all for reading my first smut omfg I can't believe I did this...

[undoing-anobrains]

the piano teacher - matty healy*

minors dni

wc: 2.3K

warnings: smut, soft dom matty, swearing, praise, riding, unprotected sex

Your fingers brushed delicately over the ivory keys before you in rapid succession as you played Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata for what felt like the millionth time. The slow melody was all but ringing inside your head as you tried to keep your focus on not messing up as you approached the most difficult part of the piece. It was particularly melancholic to the ear and absolutely beautiful when played correctly but technically very difficult to pull off. Especially with a distraction looming over you, observing your every movement.

Feeling the pressure while under his intense stare you missed a critical note throwing the whole piece off. You let out a quiet sigh knowing what comes next, restarting and playing the whole piece again. Casting your eyes momentarily up at your sheet music that rested on the stand you pretended to busy yourself with fixing your consistent mistake, but in reality you just wanted a better look at him.

Him being your piano teacher. Matty Healy. He was supposedly the best of the best. Or at least that’s what your parents claimed when they bragged to their friends about how much money they were forking out on lessons to ‘enhance your gift’. You thought it was a load of bullshit - you didn’t even enjoy playing the piano for crying out loud but you endured it to spend time with the devilishly attractive man stood before you now.

“You’re overthinking again,” he finally spoke. Only then did you realise how close he was to you. His tone seemed softer than it should be for a man that has a reputation for having little patience for mistakes. It sent a shiver down your spine, to think that maybe –just maybe— he was being gentle because it’s you. But you had to shake that ridiculous thought out of your head. You were merely his student, another rich girl being forced to appease her even richer parents. “Your shoulders keep tensing up at the first movement of the piece. You need to loosen up Y/n, feel the emotion of it, feel the desperation.”

Well you were certainly feeling desperation. There was something captivating about how animated he got when passionate about what he was saying. And perhaps it was that desperation that lead you to your next move. “Care to show me how it’s done then?”

“You want me to show you?” He echoed, now seemingly amused by the situation.

Maybe you’d come to regret these words later but you were determined to rile him up “well yeah, you’re kind of all talk, you know…I’ve never actually seen you play. Are you even any good?”

Matty scoffed “I’m more than just good sweetheart.”

“Prove it,” you retort with a hidden smile.

You shuffle further towards the edge of the small piano stool as he takes a seat next to you. For a moment you contemplate standing up and letting him have the space in front of the keys entirely to himself but you couldn’t pass up a front row seat to his performance. He doesn’t bother to look up at the sheet music as he places his fingers on the keys.

You can’t help but stare at the way his fingers move back and forth with a dexterity that should not be possible for hands of that size. His movements are almost paradoxical, impossibly delicate and intense at the same time. When he reaches the height of the emotion in the piece which is by far the most difficult part, the part you can never quite seem to master, you see how he stretches out his hands so that his pinky and his thumb are playing keys that seem impossibly far apart.

It’s just unfair. The size of his hands, the length of his fingers, give him an advantage that you don’t have. It’s useful to have hands like his, and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have them on your body. If that veiny hand was instead curled around your neck or trailing down your skin.

“Show off,” you whisper. You mean it to sound playful, but instead, you sound breathless as the music slowly fades away and he finishes.

There’s a lingering gaze between you two. As if you’re both daring the other to break the tension that’s been brewing since your first lesson. Before you even have time to react, to give in to your own impulses, his lips are on yours. You’re momentarily stunned but quickly give in. His hands wander somewhere behind your neck, gentle and cradling your head, one of his thumbs brushing your cheek delicately. The kiss grew more fervent as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. He pulls you closer to him as it became more passionate and you feel like your melting.

Little gasps and whimpers escape you but he swallows them all in his kiss. He wraps a forearm around your waist and pulls you across so that you’re now sitting on his lap. Your ass is now directly on top of his crotch and you can feel how hard he is pressed up against you. He comes up for air from the kiss and whispers against the flushed skin of your neck “your turn, sweet girl.”

“Are you serious?” You’re in complete disbelief at his request.

“Come on darling,” he coaxes you by planting soft kisses along the expanse of your neck, sucking harshly on some causing soft moans to fall from your swollen lips “don’t you want to be a good girl for me? My star pupil?”

Your hands hesitantly rest on the keys only for a second as you process the words that just came out of his mouth. His perfect fucking mouth. But then you remember yourself, and you know that you can’t disappoint him. You have to focus on the instrument in front of you and make sure not to make any mistakes which is easier said than done with his hard cock pressed up against your ass. You almost have the hang of all your movements when his hands begin to move from your waist towards your ribcage and his thumbs sweep back and forth against the underside of your breasts.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs against your ear. “Tell me this is okay.”

“Fuck, yes. All of it.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. The next thing you know, his calloused hands are on your tits, his fingers teasing your nipples over the fabric of your thin little bralette while you will your hands not to shake so that you can finish the piece before you cum untouched.

Somehow managing to play the piece flawlessly you get a hum of approval from Matty. “Good,” he says and you preen at his approval. From there he wastes absolutely no time standing you up and pushing your tight little black skirt up to your stomach, revealing the delicate lace underwear you’re wearing underneath. He’s still sitting, his face at the right height to admire your exposed body on display for him. “Fuck sweetheart, your ass looks fucking beautiful in these.” They don’t stay on for long. Within seconds and one fell sweep your panties have been ripped .

“Sorry darling, they had to go. They were in the way of my perfect pussy.” You look over your shoulder just in time to see him stuffing the now useless lace into his pocket before his hands move to undo the button of his jeans, and then his fly. Your eyes are glued to his crotch as he lifts himself off the seat to push his jeans and boxers down far enough to reveal the most perfect cock you have ever seen.

He takes it in hand and pumps it a couple of times before he looks up at you again with something akin to mischief in his eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

You don’t have to check to know that you’re already soaking wet, but you also know that you’ve never taken someone as big as him. He must see the slight hesitation in your eyes because his smirk softens just a bit. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll be gentle, but just while your pretty little cunt gets used to my cock.”

Well in that case, who are you to deny him? You take a deep breath as you position yourself above him, the hand that’s not holding his cock moving toward your hip to guide your movement. You can’t help but moan when the tip of his cock nestles itself between your folds.

“God sweetheart, you’re so wet already. Fuck,” he says as he pulls you down to rub your slick all over his cock and you jolt when he presses against it your clit. “I need to feel your cunt now. Move down slow, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

You lean forward to watch as the head of his cock disappears into you. It only takes a couple of thrusts for your body to slip into place over his and all of a sudden you feel fuller than you ever have in your entire life.

“Oh fuck, I fucking knew you’d be tight. I fucking knew it,” he says in a tone that’s surprisingly soft for the words that are coming out of his mouth. His hand presses firmly on your lower stomach so that you can feel him inside of you

“Oh-fuck!-Matty,” you moan as he slowly pulls out of your cunt, only to slam you back down on his cock roughy. His cock seems to be touching places so deep inside you that you didn’t even know they existed.

You clench around his cock as you bounce up and down on it, Matty’s hands exploring your body with fascination. It was as though he was trying to memorise every curve, every detail of you. He thrusts up roughly into you as well, stretching your pussy wide to fit him. Your eyes are practically in your skull at this point with the pleasure of him repeatedly hitting that spot inside you.

The originally slow and calculating thrusts into your pussy were a cruel taunt, with each one of them bringing you closer and closer to the edge. But as both you and Matty got closer to reaching your orgasm he began to pound a lot more rapidly and sloppier. Desperation was a good look on him you decided. The lustful eyes that couldn’t take their glossed appearance off of you, the swollen red lips matching yours, the way he threw his head back with a loud groan every time you clenched around his cock. The only noises in the echoey room were the sound of skin slamming against skin and the sounds you were making which were almost musical. An unusual kind of symphony.

“That’s my good girl,” Matty praises you as your tits bounce in his face with each and every thrust inside you “my perfect little slut, so good for me.”

You nod eagerly, brain so overwhelmed by the situation that you can’t even think of words to respond with.

“Say it darling,” his hand suddenly grasps your jaw forcing eye contact between the two of you “say you’re my good slut.”

“I-ma…I’m your good slut,” you manage to mewl out between moans.

“God your pussy is incredible,” Matty groans as he feels himself getting close to cumming “fucking milking my cock, that’s it, good girl, keep doing that.”

It hits you in waves shortly after. Every time you think you can’t possibly keep cumming, Matty and his unrelenting pace keep slamming into you, prolonging the sensation of utter fucking bliss that runs through your entire body. It’s the hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

He doesn’t stop, even as your legs go slack and he has to hold you up against him. He doesn’t stop thrusting into you even as he whispers how perfect you are, how perfect you feel cumming on his cock. He doesn’t slow down as he pushes you back down against the piano and tells you he’s going to fill you up with his cum. He doesn’t even lose his rhythm as you feel it pour into you in long streams.

Matty takes a few last thrusts before he pulls both of you back down onto the seat, his softening cock still buried in you. He runs his hands over your breasts and tilts your chin so that you’re facing him. That’s when he kisses you for the second time. His lips are just as soft and perfect as they were the first tome. His tongue running against your lower lip even more so. “You did so good darling.”

“And you weren’t bad,” you jest with a small grin “very Moonlight Sonata of you.”

You’re not wrong. The rumoured story behind the current piece you’ve been working on and practicing together is that Beethoven composed it with his student and lover in mind. Funnily enough you seem to have unintentionally mirrored it.

“Only not bad,” Matty feigns offence “well if you’re going to be a brat about it, there’s always time for round two love.”

Just as you go to reply with a biting comment you hear footsteps approaching your bedroom door. You frantically pull yourself off of Matty’s soft cock and roll your skirt back down and try to ignore the feeling of cum dropping down your thighs. Matty merely smirks as he slips his cock back inside his underwear and does the button on his jeans.

Your mother walks in seconds later with a snotty look on her otherwise pretty features “Matthew,” she greets him, all sickeningly sweet and nasally “I hope she was satisfactory today.”

Matty subtly gives you a knowing look as he responds “she was exceptional, truly, and I’m sure she’ll be even better tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. If you didn’t feel somewhat uncomfortable sitting down on that wooden stool tomorrow you were going to be severely disappointed. But if the look on Matty’s face was anything to go off of, this was only the beginning.

[kscheibles]

let me come home (illicit affairs part i)

content warnings: f! reader, angst, fluff, smut, sex toys, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex m receiving, oral sex f receiving, drug mentions (weed and ecstasy)

word count: 3.7k

Your sneakers squeak on the pristine tile floor of the hotel lobby as you hurry to the elevator. With your hoodie over your head, you look down at your phone.

“1221” says the most recent text. You whip your head up long enough to smile at the elevator attendant and tell him where you’re headed. Inside the small box, you feel flustered; claustrophobic with excitement and anxiety and anticipation. When you reach the twelfth floor, you dart out quicker than is polite and look behind you as you scan the room numbers in front of you. 17, 19, 21. You look to both sides again before knocking twice. Finally, the door swings open and you’re face to face with a jogger-clad Matty. He looks soft around the edges, worn-out. It’s probably the jet lag. He beams at the sight of you and you push past him into the room.

“Did you get the pigs in a blanket?” you ask him once you’ve left your shoes at the door. His face falls and his brows furrow.

“What kind of greeting is that?” he returns. You look at him blankly in a stalemate.

“They said it will be 45 minutes,” he relents. Your face lights up and you greet him with a kiss on the cheek. And the neck. Matty wraps his arms around you and leans down to kiss the top of your head. The sweet floral scent of your hair fills his lungs, intoxicating him more than any joint or drink could.

“Not to get you all riled up, but I sprung for some orange juice as well,” he says into your hair. You chuckle good-naturedly and lean up to meet his lips in a homecoming kiss. Your skin begins to sing as he kisses you back insistently, parting your lips with his tongue. You whimper softly at the euphoric feeling, already beginning to spread to your head and limbs.

“Think we can go for a round before they come up with it?” you ask conspiratorially.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” he replies. You’re smiling as he picks you up by your bum and carries you to the king sized bed, plopping you down unceremoniously in the middle. You move towards the top of it and shrug your hoodie off, revealing a red lace bra. Matty moves to cover you with his body as you get comfortable, your head against the plush, cold pillows.

One of his hands moves to trace the outline of your bra, flesh strains against the delicate fabric, practically begging to be released. He licks his bottom lip absentmindedly and his hand fully envelops your breast.

“Fuck, all this for me?” he asks. You roll your eyes.

“Obviously,” you smile back at him.

“You spoil me sweetheart. So fucking gorgeous,” his words are like syrup, sticky and sweet. They coat your tongue with sugar and go to straight your head. They linger in your mind when he's gone. You wish you could bottle them or press them into vinyl. Play them for your family and friends. Look, this is real. I’m his. A pang of hurt hits you right behind the eyes.

Matty is pressing soft, chase kisses to the exposed flesh on your chest. He looks so content– at home. Are you each others' homes?

“You okay baby?” he looks up at you, all pink lips and flushed skin and blown-out pupils, “you’re not taking the piss out of me for being sentimental.” His words make you chuckle, and snap from your melancholia. Your hands find his soft brown hair in answer to his question.

“I’m perfect. Fuck, keep going please,” his hands are around your back in no time, fumbling with the clasp of your bra. You arch your back to grant him more access and he groans at the feeling of you pressed into him. The euphoria clouds his mind and his fingers move uselessly behind you. You move your hand to cover them.

“Here, I got it,” you chuckle.

“No. Fuck, please let me. You went to all this effort, I wanna unwrap you myself,” he finally undoes the clasp and you lift your arms as he peels the garment off of you, brushing his lips down your arm as he does. Your breasts, once held up perfectly by the lingerie, flatten on your chest, you look down at them. Matty catches you looking.

“Don’t worry, they’re perfect,” he kisses the valley between your tits, right next to your heart. “Perfect, perfect,” the movements of his mouth massage the soft flesh of your right breast as he moves further in. “Perfect,” he says and captures your right nipple in his mouth, immediately swirling his tongue around it, wetting you completely. His teeth close softly around the bud and just when you think you’ve got him figured out, he replaces them with his lips, sucking devotedly at you. Your skin is on fire and he’s the only one who can extinguish it. You know he’ll bring you right to the edge of burning down before he does.

You arch up into the feeling of his warm mouth and have a moment of clarity long enough to realize he’s still in his t-shirt. Your hands move to the hem and push it up his rigid stomach.

“Off, off, off,” you say deliriously. It’s meant to be sexy, but it comes out whiney, needy. Why are you always so needy?

Your thoughts are cut off by the sight of his fair skin littered with tattoos, passing thoughts he’s memorialized on his body. Your lusty eyes devour him and all of the sudden you need more control.

“Switch with me,” you demand. He obliges without a word and you take your leggings off as he shuffles around on his back. You move back over him, now clad only in a red thong that barely functions as underwear. Matty notices it at the same time you do: you’ve left a wet mark on his gray sweatpants where you straddled him. He reaches down to touch the damp fabric between your thighs, warm and inviting. He plays with the lace, pulling it up so it rubs deliciously between your folds and roughly on your clit. Your head falls back and you begin to grind against his hand as he moves the fabric back and forth, finally gathering the friction you came here for. His fingers wander down to your hole and push tentatively into you. He’s only halfway in when he pulls them out. Your eyes snap up to him annoyed. He offers you a conciliatory glance.

“Can I eat you out?”

You’re appeased. You dismount him to shuck your last stitch of clothing off. As you crawl back up his body, his eyes catch yours.

“You thought I was gonna be mean? What on earth would make you think that?” Your mind’s eye flashes back to a reunion a month ago, your hands tied beautifully above your head as Matty edged you cruelly with a vibrator. Come and get it, greedy girl. The obscenities echo in your head. You blush at the thought and at his taunts.

“Shut up,” you say timidly, and cover his face with your wet cunt. He’s got his arms around your thighs and his tongue slicing up between your folds, treating you to a variety of sensations as he pays attention to each sensitive part of you. Your hands come up to brace yourself against the headboard as he begins to work on your clit, licking in sweet sideways strokes before sucking it into his mouth. As the pressure in your body increases, you begin to ride his face, furiously chasing your release.

“Mmmmph fuck, good girl,” the vibrations from his moans go straight into your pussy and increase your pleasure tenfold.

“Please, please stay like that. I’m gonna cum,” you warn. He releases a lengthy moan into you as you continue to chase your peak. He knows he’s the only person to have ever made you cum, and he still gets off on it every time. He moves his mouth away from you long enough for you to hear what he’s saying.

“Cum for me, please. Need you all over my face baby,” and with that he’s back in you everywhere. Hands coming to cover your backside and reach into your wetness, his tongue licking up into your hole, filling you. His nose bumps into your clit at intervals that drive you crazy. But what tips you over the edge is when he moves his hand to the bottom of your entrance, pushing gently against your back wall. You feel so full and euphoric as your orgasm washes over you, starting at the space between your legs and spreading to your chest, your fingers, your nose. You ride him through it and stop when you can’t take it anymore, breathing heavily. His fingers are still pressed inside you. He’s obsessed with knowing it’s real, feeling your heartbeat against his fingers and face. You know you can never fake it with him, and what’s more you don’t have to.

You move off of him and lay on your back. He ducks to the side to clean himself a bit and then leans over to kiss you. You put your hand on his head and move him away gently.

“My face is numb. Can’t feel you,” you say bashfully.

“Yeah?” he’s proud and smiling, eyes squinted so tight you can’t make out his irises.

“Sorry,” you say.

“Please, that’s the best reason I’ve ever heard not to kiss someone,” he grins and pulls you into his chest to come down. Your hands come up to the space below his ribs, trace his top abdominals, get lost in the sweet smattering of chest hair that covers his tattoos.

A knock at your door snaps you from your reverie. You hurry under the duvet as Matty gets up, stretching his muscular arms gratuitously before heading to the door.

The hotel worker has a table he’s wheeling around and he begins to push it into the room. Matty is quick to stop the table and wink at the guy.

“I’ll take it from here, mate thanks,” he says and hands him a $20 note. With the door finally closed, Matty rolls your midnight snack over to your side of the bed. He pours you orange juice from the carafe before crossing the room to faff about with his luggage. You watch him curiously as you sip on your orange juice, slowly feeling the weight return to your body as you replenish your blood sugar. He produces a beautifully wrapped box from his duffel.

“What’s this?” you ask. It’s not uncommon for Matty to give you gifts, but he’s always finding some way to surprise you. He’s sweet, impossibly sweet. Though you suppose it must be easy to be nice when you’re rich. You push the thought away. Nothing exists outside of these four walls. Nothing exists except us.

He gets into bed and slots himself behind you. He kisses your shoulder as he places the parcel on the covers.

“Open it,” he insists. You rip the wrapping paper eagerly and see the box of a beautiful — that’s really the only word you could use to describe it — vibrator. It’s the fanciest you’ve ever seen: pink and white and gold. You want to laugh, of course he’d make an investment when it comes to this.

“You’re crazy, this is a fancy fucking vibrator,” you chuckle and lean your head against him. He reaches over to the table and uncovers the pigs in a blanket. He feeds one to you tenderly before enveloping you in his arms.

“You know our sex is too good for second rate toys,” he states, smiling into your neck. You finish chewing and turn around in his lap before hugging him around his neck.

“All this and room service?” you tease, opening the box excitedly.

“What can I say, I’m a generous guy,” he smiles slyly, taking the box from your struggling hands, “Now hurry up and eat, I wanna use it on you.” Your heart jumps into your throat.

“I don’t need to eat, I’m ready now,” you tell him, defiant. He loves it, loves how eager you are, how badly you want him, how you treat him like he’s the only person you’ve ever had. He traces his pointer finger over your cupid's bow.

“I’m ready too, darlin’ but I need you to eat something. After that I’ll keep you up all night long. I promise,” he coos. He grabs two more bites of food and gives one to you, cheersing you before eating his whole.

—

Matty gently removes the vibrator from your swollen, red clit and gets up off the bed as he quickly rids himself of his boxers. He leans back over your face and kisses you, admiring your blissed out expression.

“Do I need to get a condom?” he knows that, with you guys, it’s not always safe to go without. He wouldn’t pressure you, but he knows you’d rather feel him wholly, if you can. Obviously, he feels the same way. You blush a little.

“I’m actually good this time. I’ve not been with anyone else,” you don’t know why you’re shy about it. Surely, he wouldn’t find that lame, would he? No, he would like it, you think. He would like that he’s the only person to have been with you recently. Maybe you’re kidding yourself. He touches your face and snaps you out of it.

“I haven’t either,” he says calmly, “don’t trust anyone like I trust you.” He climbs back over top of you and kisses you deeply, “turn over for me, yeah?”

You oblige, settling comfortably on your stomach. He moves a pillow under your hips and hikes your right leg up at an angle on the bed. You hear buzzing again behind you as Matty positions the vibrator on your clit.

“You feel good?” he asks.

“Yes,” you’re a little out of breath, dumb with anticipation, “Need you though. Need it harder.”

You feel him running up and down through your folds, almost dipping into you. You moan obnoxiously, too proud to tell him again how much you need him. It’s enough for him, he pushes into you unhurriedly, savoring the moment, relishing in every inch he stretches you. When he bottoms out, he moves his hands up beside your shoulders and whispers in your ear.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Can I move?” You nod frantically into the pillow and he begins to snap his hips into yours. You feel your heartbeat everywhere as your pleasure begins to build. Matty covers your hands in his and stretches them out in front of you, keeping you in place as he fucks you precisely. Each time he bottoms out, he presses your clit perfectly against the vibrator.

“Good girl. You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he pants in your ear. He’s dominant, but it’s sweet and the perfect mixture of submission and pride swirls around your foggy brain as you begin to float. You try to focus on one feeling at a time, his cock sliding in and out of you, his hands on yours, his warm breath on your ear, the vibrations on the tortured nub between your legs. It’s too much all together. You let yourself go, brain wiping completely as you buck senselessly against the pillow, trying to meet his hips. You cum without realizing that the feeling was creeping up on you, attacked with pleasure as you collapse on the bed in total bliss. Matty’s not far behind, watching you unravel beneath him makes his ego swell and he fucks into you even harder than before.

“I need a second,” you say. It catches Matty off-guard and he stills above you, pulling out slowly. He turns you on your back so he can see your eyes.

“You okay?” he searches your face for any discomfort.

“I’m fucking great. Just sensitive. Were you close?” you ask, suddenly concerned you’ve ruined it for him.

“Yeah, I was,” he seems unbothered. He smiles down at you. You take his hard cock in your hand and begin to pump him over your stomach. “Fuuuuuuuck,” his head rolls back, “can I come in your mouth?”

You kneel in response and push him down onto his back and take him in your mouth, bobbing up and down, wetting him completely and keeping the pressure on him. He reaches out to grab your hand as he begins to spurt into your mouth. The salty tang of him tastes like victory. You smile at him; a content, fucked out grin and then swallow. He wipes a bit left over by the side of your mouth.

“C’mere,” he whines and pulls you into him again. “Goddamn you’re so good to me.”

“Aw don’t go soft on me now, Healy,” you taunt. He groans.

“Don’t be cute. I just came, I don’t have my wits well enough about me to go toe-to-toe with you,” he responds.

“Now if only you’d admit the same about the rest of the time,” you muse.

“Cheeky,” he bops your nose. You let silence fill the room for a moment.

“How long are you here for?” you question, looking up at him. A word from him could change the course of your life, it seems. No, you’re not in love with him. You wouldn’t let yourself do that. But god it feels right with him. It makes sense that you’d want to prolong your time with him for as long as possible. You’re not you when you’re with him. Well yes, you’re you, but a freer, less encumbered you. Like you’re on vacation, or on ecstasy…or something. He makes all the hurt go away. All of the hurt is outside, and inside is a protective fort of your own making. Your shelter.

“Five days. ‘Til Sunday,” he says, “can’t stand the heat longer than that.” You know Matty hates Los Angeles. You don’t blame him, really. It doesn’t seem anything like home to him.

But it still makes you sad. That he might spend bits of his free time in other places just because he likes the atmosphere better. That he would choose to be away from you even though you feel more like home to him than any city could.

“Okay,” you say. It didn’t really need an answer. You can’t see him every day anyways. You have a job and housemates that will wonder where you are, and a mother who’s always begging you to come by for dinner. You don’t tell them about him: your booty call, the rockstar. That would go over well. Anyways, you two are the only ones who get you. Everything goes bad once it leaves the safe-haven you’ve carefully built for yourselves. Rumors and questions and judgements. You’d rather keep it all here. Where it can be perfect.

“Will you tell me about Spain?” you query as you nestle yourself back into him, pushing away the future and snuggling back into the present.

“It was fucking unreal, darlin’. You would have loved it. All these breathtaking old churches and mosques. People dancing, playing guitar, and cheering in the streets. And the food, god. I know you too well to take you there, you would eat yourself silly and then tell me you’re too full to make love to me,” he chuckles.

“That seems like an appropriate behavior on vacation,” you push back.

“It is, but I want you all to myself,” he flips the two of you onto your sides and buries his head in your chest as he squeezes you impossibly closer. “Does that make me selfish?”

His voice sounds so small when it’s coming from under the covers.

“Maybe,” you say. He looks up at you like he might be hurt, “but I’m selfish when it comes to you, too.” You consider your next words, scared to be too candid. No, you think, If anyone would want me to be honest, it’s Matty.

“I get a little rush when you tell me that you haven’t been with anyone since you last saw me,” you say tentatively.

“Me too, sweetheart. It’s different with you.” You breathe a sigh of relief. You sit up and grab the glasses off the side table and go to the restroom. You relieve yourself quickly and fill the water cups, bringing them back to bed.

“Can I ask you a question?” you say. Matty raises his eyebrows in answer as he takes a sip of water. “What does it really feel like for guys when you have sex with girls? You guys always act like it feels so good when you first put it in. Is it really like that every time?”

Matty smiles softly at your earnestness. “I thought you were gonna ask me something serious,” he teases.

“I am being serious,” you insist.

He considers you, your expression, your posture. Deciding what you want from him. The truth, he thinks. All she ever wants is the truth. He takes you in his arms.

“You know when you get back from a holiday and you get to sleep in your bed on your pillow again for the first time in weeks?” you nod along. “It’s like that, but a thousand, no— a million times better. Especially if it’s with someone you know. It’s a relief. It’s safe. It feels like coming home.” You look at him, searching for any little bit of artifice. You find none, you should know by now that you won’t find any with him. Why can’t you trust that?

“You feel like coming home, darlin’.”

You believe him. You agree. So why does it still hurt? You put your head on his chest and close your eyes.

“So do you. Thanks for taking me home.”

“Anytime.”

You know he doesn’t quite mean it—any time he’s in town, yes. Anytime he’s not with a groupie in Japan. Anytime he’s not dealing with some work obligation or visiting his family in England. But as sleep begins to crowd your brain, you let yourself take his words at face value. Anytime. Anytime. He’ll come home anytime.

a/n: please tell me your thoughts etc. I hope this brightens your day! see you all at satvb this fall <3

[bloodisonurtongue]

BABY / MATTY HEALY X READER

a/n: these photos make a giggle I won’t lie, anyways this was cute to write even tho it’s rlly shit. I love stories where they find out they’re having a baby I think they’re so cute. I’d like to do a part where they tell the guys as well

this was slightly proofread but I got lazy at the end as well 😔 ALSO FIRST (posted) STORY WOO

c/w: vomiting, pregnancy, pregnancy tests, brief mentions of sex??

Y/N hadn't felt quite right all day, for the last week actually. She chalked it up to eating too much food, pushing her limits and not getting enough rest or hydration as well. But when she woke up in the middle of the night, she knew it was something more than indigestion. She rushed herself to the bathroom and barely made it before she was down on her hands and knees, heaving uncontrollably into the toilet.

When she was finished, she felt thoroughly exhausted. She sat back against the bathroom wall and closed her eyes. she heard the soft rustle of her bed sheets and sighed knowing she had woken Matty up.

she heard the whisper of his voice as he walked towards their shared bathroom “darling are you okay?” she could hear the concern and tiredness as he spoke, she felt bad for waking him up, knowing he needed the sleep considering this was one of the very few days he had off tour.

y/n looked at the door as he walked in, way to exhausted from throwing up to answer him at the moment, she just looked at him and groaned

Matty walked over to her and sat next to her on the cold bathroom tiles as he wrapped her in his arms, y/n dug her face into his chest and let out a soft cry. Matty had asked her how she felt, after she explained her symptoms to him, he began to suspect the same thing she had been afraid to think of. he gently grabbed her chin, making her look at him before he asked softly “do you think you could be pregnant darlin” she looked as if she was about to cry, what if she was pregnant? would he happy? she knows she would be even if it was unplanned. would the guys be happy? what if they all felt like she’d be interrupting their tour by having a baby?

matty could practically hear her overthinking in her head, so trying to knock her out of her thoughts he spoke again “darling, it’s okay” he gently rubbed her back before asking “Do you want me to get a pregnancy test?”

Y/N, too tired to speak, simply nodded. Matty gave her a squeeze and kissed her on the crown of her head “do you wanna go lay in bed for a bit or do you wanna sit here?” y/n slowly shook her head before saying she wanted to be back in bed

matty slowly helped her up and got her back into bed, covering her with the blankets and making sure she was comfortable before giving her a soft kiss on the lips and again on the crown of her head before telling her he’d be back in 10 minutes.

not even 10 minutes later, y/n heard the front door open and gently shut before hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, she was tired but was far too scared to take the pregnancy test she knew matty was about to give her to fall asleep in the few minutes he was gone.

the bedroom door opened and closed again quickly, her eyes were still shut as she felt mattys hand on her side, rubbing softly “are you awake darling?” he said, adoration dripping from his voice as he looked at y/n who looked all too peaceful laying comfortably on their bed, he knew she was scared of taking the test, but they needed to know the answer to what they were thinking.

slowly opening her eyes y/n looked up at matty, eyes still half closed, she watched as his smile grew even bigger as her eyes opened “do you wanna take it now baby? we can wait a bit if you’d like” matty softly whispered, reaching up slightly to tuck the loose hair hanging in her face behind her ears.

y/n sighed “I think it’s better we do it now so we know” she spoke softly as she closed her eyes again before opening them again. Matty gently took her hand to help her get out of bed before they headed to their bathroom.

Matty took the box out of the bag he had in his hand, opening the box and taking out the test and the instructions before sliding them onto the counter in-front of y/n. he gently placed a hand on her back before rubbing it gently as she quickly read all the instructions “do you want me to go outside while you do it darling?” he softly questioned her, not wanting to make her feel like she had to have him in the room with her as she did the test.

she looked at him, he could practically see the nerves in her eyes “yeah just while I pee on it, you can come in right after” she said, voice wavering as she spoke. Matty nodded and smiled softly at her before giving her a kiss on the head “I’ll be just outside” she nodded back at him and watched slightly as he walked out, closing the door softly.

she used the test, and placed it back onto the counter, face down, so her and matty couldn’t see when the results were shown, she thought that he wanted to share the moment together. she opened the door for matty to come in before looking at herself in the mirror, feeling her eyes sting slightly as tears began to form on her lower lash line.

Matty gently wrapped his arms around her waist before settling his head on her shoulder, and whispering softly into her ear that everything would be okay.

she sniffled a few times before she spoke “what if I am pregnant matty, what are we gonna do?” she looked down at the tiled floor as tears started to fall gently, a few of them falling onto mattys arms around her waist.

matty kissed her head gently “if you are pregnant, it’s gunna be okay darling, I’m going to be here for every step of the way no matter what and so will the guys. we’ll do whatever you want to do. if you wanna keep it we’ll keep it and if you don’t you dont need to feel like you have too okay baby?” He softly whispered to her, leaning his chin on her shoulder again and leaving a few kisses there.

y/n slowly turned around in mattys hold, looking up at him making eye contact, a few tears continue to slowly go down her cheeks as she speaks “if I am pregnant, even if now isn’t a good time to have a baby, I want to keep it” her voice breaking a bit as she brings her hands up to cup mattys face gently.

she swears she’s never seen matty smile bigger then he is now as he leans down to catch her lips in a loving but intimate kiss before matty slowly moved his hands down and picked her up before placing her on the bathroom counter, continuing with the kiss until they eventually ran out of breath and had to pull away from each other

once their breathing got back to normal they both smiled brightly at each other before remembering the test next to them, and that they should check it now.

“you know the test is probably done by now” y/n chuckled at him as she placed a quick kiss to his lips again “let’s look then shall we?” he said smiling even wider at her as she quickly got down off of the counter and stood infront of where the pregnancy test lied. Matty placed his hand on the back of hers so they could pick up the test together as he stood behind her, giving her a peck on the shoulder before asking her if she was ready to look at it.

y/n nodded slowly, the nerves from before coming back again, she was about to find out if she was pregnant, she was terrified but elated to find out. She looked back at matty for confirmation to pick up the test, he nodded immediately and she could see the tears slightly welling up in his eyes, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he slightly wrapped his hand around hers, her fingers began to shakily pick up the test turning it around

two red lines.

she was pregnant.

y/n felt a happy sob about to come out of her mouth. feeling mattys tears continuously fall and lightly land on her shoulder, a few rolling down and going down her shirt. She quickly turned around and looked at his face as tears began to flow out of her eyes too “matty baby we’re gunna be having a baby” she laughs lightly as she puts the test down again before reaching up and running her fingers through his hair as he leaned forward to place his head on her chest.

He muttered into her skin, she could barely hear what he was saying but somehow made it out “we’re having a baby, a fucking baby can you believe that?” He quickly picked his head off of her chest, looking at her with wide eyes “there’s a baby in you, a mini me or you, in you.” his mouth dropped in shock “I put a baby in you, oh my god” y/n let out a laugh at his antics “yes you did darling”

later that night as y/n slowly drifted to sleep, she could feel matty rubbing her stomach softly, and speaking to it as if the small baby growing inside her could hear him yet “I’m gunna spoil you so much, more then I already spoil your mommy. I already love you so much, you’re gunna have so much fun with all your aunts and uncles, and we’re gunna be one big happy family.”

In that moment, Y/N knew that she was truly happy. Matty made her feel safe, secure, and loved - and she was exactly where she belonged.

[imagine-that-100]

Chicken Shop Date

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

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

Word Count: 18.3k

A/N: Okay so, Matty’s chicken shop date really had me and @alovesreading​ spiralling so we decided to make an even better version of the date. This will more than likely be 2 parts and the second part will be posted on A’s account so make sure you’re all following. We wrote this in like 53 hours and we’re super proud of it. We hope you enjoy it as much as we do, and we can’t wait to see what you think. Enjoy and thanks for reading x

| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |

Going on chicken shop dates with your favourite celebrities at one point in your life seemed like something entirely plucked from yours and your best friend’s imaginations. You guess that is all it was at one point, but you never for a second imagined it would become your job.

It’s a stupid, fun idea that you and your best friend Amelia ran with and now you’ve gone on ‘dates’ with some of the biggest stars on the planet. It was beyond your wildest dreams and it’s opened up so many opportunities for the both of you that somehow, you’re now both invited to big events that these stars also attend.

You and Amelia were both at the NME awards earlier this year, surrounded by musical legends that the both of you knew you needed to try and ask on your ‘dates’. The amount of award shows the both of you were asked to host their red-carpet shows were also insane to the both of you.

The imposter syndrome really kicks in for the both of you when you’re at these events but you both remind yourselves to use your fake confidence that you use on your ‘dates’ and it somehow gets you through. But you wouldn’t ever take for granted the opportunities the both of you were getting now.

Both of your calendars were full with work that you never imagined possible for either of you. And you’d been on dates with people like Finneas, Yungblud, KSI, and a bunch of other cool celebrities. Amelia had some good ones along the way too, and it’s been quite funny sometimes when you would argue amongst yourself of who would get the date.

Quite early on in your and Amelia’s chicken shop dates, both of you decided that you would go on separate dates with the celebrities that agreed to them. A way to keep each episode fresh with similar but ultimately different personalities as the both of you awkwardly flirt your way into getting celebrities to lower their guard and play off you.

Both of you were so happy when it worked, and you thought it would just be a fun side project for the both of you. But the guests kept getting bigger and bigger and you were able to quit your shit job because now you were earning a very comfortable living and you have so many opportunities that years ago you could only have dreamt of.

It was at the NME awards back in February that your date today was arranged. Both you and Amelia saw that event as a way you could ask people to come on your show. And whilst you were tasked with trying to make a drunk Sam Fender agree to come on the show, Amelia went straight for Matty Healy because she knew you wouldn’t have the balls to do it.

Amelia was the one person who knew just how much you enjoyed the 1975’s music and how much you have done for years. Subsequently, she liked their music too because you used to never stop playing it, but she was definitely a lot more chill about them than you.

That night at the NME awards was something Amelia truly believed she’d never forget though. When you’d gone off to talk to Sam, she went and introduced herself to Matty before sitting at his table.

It really took her no time at all to get Matty to agree to a chicken shop date as he already knew about the show and how it usually goes down. Matty agreed on the spot and he told her that they were going to release their new album sometime in October so it would have to be close to then for promo reasons.

Of course, Amelia was used to this as album promo was the reason why she’d got dates with other music artists in the past, so it made sense. And Amelia would do anything to make it work because she wanted you to have this experience of going on one of your dates with someone you actually fancy.

But what made your best friend really have to hold her grin back was when Matty asked, “Is it going to be you or Y/N doing it?”

Amelia is about to say that he can choose if he wants to but that it’ll more than likely be you doing it. But Matty answers his own question and asks again, “No offence to you, but can Y/N do it?”

“Course, I’ll be in touch.” Ameila tells him before wishing him a good night and going back to her table to get herself another drink.

By the end of that night, you both made the rounds and came back with a nice long list of people that had agreed to go on dates with you both. But considering Amelia went home with Aitch that night, she didn’t tell you about securing the date with Matty straight away.

And even when she did and you had a small, tiny meltdown over it, she kept to herself that Matty asked for the date to be with you. You just assumed that she was letting you have this date because you’ve loved the band for the longest time and she’ll let you carry on thinking that, for now. She doesn’t plan on telling you that Matty asked for you personally until after you date.

When the enquiry officially came through for the chicken shop date, Matty was quite excited about it going in his calendar. In his free time, Matty had seen a few of both of your dates.

Of course, he’d seen the ones that truly gave the both of you, your now viral audience. The Louis Theroux one got the rap going viral, so that lifted your platform up even more. Not to mention the ones where Amelia went on dates with Jack Harlow and Aitch, because she lost her composure and didn’t fully maintain her cool, unbothered character.

But in the UK the two of you definitely became well known when Amelia and Aitch started their little romance that had all stemmed from their date. Matty planned on asking what actually happened when he had his own chicken shop encounter though. But he had to admit, he was glad that it was confirmed that he would be going on his own chicken shop date with you.

It may be superficial of him to admit, but he finds you more attractive than Amelia. You really are a gorgeous girl in Matty’s eyes, and he thinks going on a date with someone he actually somewhat finds attractive will be a win for both of you. From the episodes of the show he’d seen, he thinks that you are also funnier, and he has no doubt that he’ll be able to play off you well when he’s in the hot seat on the other side of the table from you.

He met you earlier on that night at the NME Awards, before Amelia had collared him for a date, and you were even prettier in person than you were on camera. Funnier too when you weren’t in character. You told him that night that you really appreciated his music and he told you that he liked the show, but your encounter was cut short because his girlfriend came on stage to perform so he had to go and watch her.

You didn’t see each other for the rest of that night, but he was glad when Amelia came over and asked if he’d be up for a date. Initially, he thought it was a bit of a weird thing for him to agree to when he’s literally attending an event that his girlfriend is also here for, but he was really proud of his new album and wasn’t going to pass on some promo for it.

Matty would say he certainly relaxed about the date a little more when he realised it was coming up and he was freshly single. Whilst he was still a little down in the dumps about yet another failed relationship, he was excited to actually play off you on this date properly. He could freely flirt without any guilt to come with it and he was excited for it.

And today’s date seemed to creep up on the both of you all at once.

Standing outside the chosen Chicken Inn this time has you unable to stay still. After doing this for so long, the nerves were something you were used to, and you had been able to learn to keep under control but knowing that Matty was the one who would walk in at any moment was making you feel like it was your first ever date.

Usually for your dates, both you and Amelia researched your guests to get the best out of the jokes you’d make. However, you’ve known everything there is to know about The 1975 since you were 19 years old, you did absolutely no research at all for this. All you did was prep funny little gags you could make, in hopes to make the episode funny. But that hasn’t stopped your nerves at all.

You glance at Amelia, a slight hint of panic in your eyes that she didn’t miss. She blows you a kiss and gives you a tight lip smile that has you thanking everything for being able to do this with your best mate.

But that relief only lasts a few seconds as you all hear the heavy door being pushed open and you see the musician walk in as he closes his umbrella with Jamie, his manager, walking closely behind him.

Amelia and the crew are quick to greet them with “Hello!” and smiles, but the words die in your mouth.

You watch the two guests waving at everyone, to then hug Amelia and when it’s your turn to greet them, you slowly rise up from your seat.

Jamie goes first so you smile as you accept his handshake. Handshakes you could do, is what you think but when it’s Matty’s turn you feel yourself getting nervous again as he looks you up and down with a smirk before hugging you.

You were wearing heels which made you a few inches taller than him, so he decides to wrap his arms around your waist and rub your back whilst you hug him over the shoulders.

It was a surreal moment for you, to say the least, and it all gets even harder to believe when Matty says, “You look amazing Y/N.” in your ear.

You find yourself looking at Amelia for he had said that loud enough for everyone to hear and when your eyes fall on her, you see her smirking at you. You had a cheetah print top on, red leather pants and a red bandana tied around your wrist. It had been an idea you and Amelia had to dress up like the girl in the Robbers music video just for the laughs, and you had expected a joke about it not a compliment. However, you’re not even sure if it’s just a compliment or if he’s clicked that you’re dressed like this on purpose.

When you let go of each other, you look down at him and smile, “Thank you, so do you.” And it’s maybe the whole situation that has you clouding your better judgement because your hand goes to pet Matty on top of his head and he rolls his eyes.

That only makes you laugh though, his smile creeping through as he tries to act annoyed at you only making your cheeks feel warm.

You signal him to sit in the chair across from you and he obliges, handing his umbrella to Jamie and sighs when he looks up at you.

“So, the chicken shop date…” Matty trails off, adjusting his tie and then brushing his hair back with his right hand. A small strand of it falling on his forehead making you bite the inside of his cheek to not smile as big as you want to.

You nod, “The chicken shop date, exactly. Are you ready?”

Someone from the crew places your chicken boxes in front of you two, and he watches as you give them a sweet smile and thank them. It was interesting seeing you not being blunt and awkward like in the videos.

Usually, you tend to encourage your guests to start eating before the camera’s start officially rolling just to get them comfortable. And you do the same now with Matty, he’d already told you that chicken nuggets and chips, like what you eat on your various dates was fine, so you both start slowly scranning on that as you prepare him for how the interview usually plays out.

Briefly you go over what he already knows, that you’re not meaning to be rude about anything when you put your character on. It’s not that you’re not interested or not impressed by what he’s saying, it's just the unbothered, chill character you put on. And once Matty seems settled enough with you, you give the nod to your crew and get things going.

But what shocks Matty is when the director tells you they’re rolling, it's like a flip is switched. You stare down at him with a challenging expression, like you’re trying to get him to break and say something.

Only he stares back at you, trying to have you break first, but you won’t give him that. So, you lean to your side and pull out a bottle of Volvic strawberry flavoured water.

Placing it on the table, you see a massive grin break on his face as he reaches for it. You have to try and not beam at him yourself.

“Do you- Do you know about that bit? Is this an in-joke?” Matty asks, managing to keep his chill composure back.

You frown, “Is it- The what?” instead of smiling like you desperately want to.

“That I like this?” He plays with the bottle, glancing from it to you and back.

You shrug, acting all proud of yourself for the reaction you got from him. “I know.”

Matty giggles, “How’d you know that?”

Your smile manages to break through a little and you look from him to the camera to make it seem more awkward. “I just know you like that. I know your likes, your dislikes…”

“It’s like Nardwuar.” He states, clearly amazed, really thinking about how you and Amelia managed to find this out. Maybe you had reached out to one of the lads, that had to be it.

After opening your can of Tango, you bring up your can so he can clink it with his bottle, “Cheers.”

Matty does, saying, “Cheers,” as well and when you take a sip of your beverage keeping your eyes on him, you’re baffled at how this was all happening.

“You know you were late, right?” You point out after you feel like you’ve had enough of your drink.

He frowns, “No I wasn’t.”

You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed and call him out further. “That’s rude. You don’t do that on the first date.”

“I was like five minutes over time.” Matty looks at everyone behind the cameras and then back at you, as if he was trying to make sure people would back him.

You pick at your chips, fighting back. “More like quarter past.”

“It was Jamie’s fault.” Matty settles for saying, like that would make it look better.

“Why are you trying to blame someone else, I know it was your own fault.” You make a show of staring at his hair, trying to silently tell him you knew his hair took him a long while to perfect like he wanted to.

“There was traffic.” He uses it as a second excuse but you’re not having it.

“You live like ten minutes away.” You out him, “You must have set off at the time you were meant to arrive if that was the case.”

Matty asks a little worriedly, “How do you know that?”

Instead of answering, you out him like you want to, “So, how long did it take you to get ready for this date?”

Matty fully ignores your intentions to make him admit he took long to get ready and calmly switches the direction of the inquiry. “I'd like to say that I kinda dressed for the occasion but this is kinda how I dress.”

“How you dress, or how your stylist dresses you?” You use a chip to point at him.

“Isn't that the same?” At this point, Patricia and him were always talking about fashion and clothes so she didn’t even need to dress him for these types of press events, he could do it himself and know it was good and she would approve.

“It looks like you're going to a funeral.” you state with a blank face to tease him but he gives you nothing.

“Maybe I am.” Matty swiftly plays along.

So you try a different approach to have him show some emotion. “Speaking of funerals… You’re old.”

That gets him instantly, his frown so deep it almost makes you burst out laughing. “No, I’m not.”

“You are, like very old.” You insist, slowly nodding your head.

Matty sighs, “No, I am not. I was born in 198–”

But you talk over him to continue with your gag, “So you were born in 1975.”

“No.” He plainly responds, with an exasperated look on his face.

You proceed to add more to it, “You know Liz Truss was born in 1975, and DJ Khalid so you're in good company.” The slight shrug of your shoulders has him slowly turning to everyone around you two.

“I was born in the 80s.” Matty feels the need to remind everyone in the room, looking at them all and not you.

So you keep pushing it, “Yeah you were born in the 80s, keep telling yourself.” You pout at him when he turns back around to face you.

His voice raises in volume just a notch, “I was born in the 80s. I was born in 1989 and I'm still young and relevant.”

There’s a few beats of silence when you’re just staring at him with a straight face. Then you just let out a tiny sigh and say, “Sure.”

Matty has to bite his tongue. You played it so well, and the way you could so easily get on his nerves like that was making him look at you more intently. It's much more different seeing you act like this in a video than having you doing it in front of him.

He's loving every second and the date has only just started.

“You have new music coming soon.” You decide to open the conversation back up with a topic that actually really interests you but you have to take it into a different direction.

“I do.” Matty nods, flicking the salt from the chips off his fingers.

You wait to swallow the bite of chicken you had in your mouth to continue with your teasing, this time hiding it behind showing interest on his upcoming album. “So ‘Being funny in a foreign language’, is that right?”

Matty only nods, eating some of his nuggets so you continue with your bit. “Can you be funny in a foreign language?”

He rolls his eyes, swallowing his food to clear things up for you. “It’s not meant literally. It came from–”

You don’t even allow him to explain, you just plainly interrupt him. “I can be funny in a foreign language.”

He unscrews his bottle and raises an eyebrow at you. “What? Like tell a joke?”

You don’t even tell him yes, you just start speaking Spanish. And you know it’s not a joke what you’re gonna tell him but he wouldn’t know. “¿Sabes que me gustaría hacer?” (Do you wanna know what I would like to do?)

“What?” Matty asks blissfully unaware that he was answering your question.

“Me encantaría quitarte ese traje en este momento.” (I would love to take that suit off right now.) You smirk at him, biting on a chip and trying not to laugh at his naive excited expression because he had no idea what you had just said.

Amelia cackles, making Matty giggle in front of you. You feel his soft kick on your feet to encourage you to tell him, “What was that then?”

You sit up straighter, staying smug at how you just very honestly flirted with him and he doesn’t have a clue. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would.” Matty nods eagerly, and his face softens in an attempt to push you to come clean. As if his puppy eyes would break you, and they could but you had to commit to your job.

You pout in fake pity then, “It’s a shame we don’t always get what we want.”

He turns it on you, “You got me on a date with you, haven’t you?”

And you play along as sarcastically as you can, “Oh yeah, ‘cause I’m so in love with you.”

Matty laughs at that, you’re really good at staying in character. “Am I even your type?” He teases, trying to get more hints from you.

“You’re here so you have to be.” You state quite simply, and he sees the honesty in your eyes. “I’m quite picky actually.”

Something inside of him sparked but he tries to continue to play it cool. “See, I didn’t think I’d be your type.” Because Matty truly didn’t think he would be, if he only knew you were having cold sweats from being sat in front of him.

“Well, you are when you have the curls out. Not that much right now.” You eye him up and down, keeping a straight face. He looks so incredibly good though, it’d be a lie that you weren’t finding him fit as fuck at the moment. But it wasn’t a lie that his curls had always made you feel some type of way.

Matty scoffs, “You don’t like the gel?”

You contort your face to exaggerate your fake disagreement. “No, you’re not 2013 Alex Turner. I prefer the curls.”

He frowns deeply, “2013 Alex Turner?”

“Yeah, you know with the whole greaser slick back hair,” You mimic combing back your hair like Danny Zuko would in Grease and when Matty shakes his head you sigh defeatedly. “Not important. The real question is do you have a type?”

He takes a small pause, “Erm, well, I’m straight.”

“Yawn.” You reply quickly and roll your eyes.

Matty hunches a little bit and narrows his eyes at you, “You’re not?”

“No, I'm not boring like you... Anyway, so, you're straight?” You turn it back around to him, in any other setting he would try and get more out of you but glancing up and seeing the camera had him get back in character and continue talking about himself.

Matty remembers the never-ending conversation that is all over social media so he frowns annoyed, “Yeah, that's been up for debate.”

“Has it?” You frown, knowing full well it has because you’ve definitely questioned his sexuality privately before now, but you play dumb and uninterested.

“Yeah, well for a little bit, on Twitter and stuff. Just wanna say that.” He waves his hand around dismissing the relevance of said debate.

You smile then at the very lame play of words that come up to your mind, “You’re setting the record straight.”

“I’m setting the record straight.” Matty repeats, stealing a glance at the camera before looking back at you, “So, girls.”

“So just any kind of girl?” You ask for clarification, knowing you’d get something funny out of him.

He stutters for a bit until he finds his words, “But I do like hot women, hot girls.”

“Yeah,” You shake your head like you're unimpressed but equally you agree, “I know you like hot girls, yeah.”

“That's alright.” Matty adds calmly, not seeing anything inherently wrong with admitting that.

You give him an up and down, and then tilt your head slightly to the side as in disapproval, “Quite predictable, I think.”

“You know, you’ve gotta enjoy your life.” Matty goes for a chip as he stands his ground, and you look very closely at his every move.

“Yeah I know, I like hot girls too.” You agree entirely, but you grimace when you ask, “But what about funny, what about interesting?”

The chip he puts in his mouth is sticking out the side of it while he agrees with the point you’re trying to make, “Oh yeah, funny and interesting is cool.”

“Yeah, yeah but hot is better?” You watch him nod as he fully eats the chip.

His nods don’t stop, “Hot is definitely the most important thing.”

You avert your eyes then, feeling yourself about to break character. It’s getting to you how bizarre this whole situation is and how your job is to flirt with the man you’ve fancied for almost a decade. What is your life?

You half heartedly smile, sounding offended and uninterested as you say, “Okay, that's great.”

“Listen, you're gorgeous.” He states quickly, staring at you while he brings the bottle up to his lips.

You very quickly interject, “But am I hot?”

“Yeah, you’re hot,” Matty’s quick answer almost makes you lose your cool but you somehow maintain it. Matty’s about to take a drink when he continues, “But I'm going on tour for a very long time.”

“What, so you're not available?” You ask, like it’s an inconvenience to you.

“Like I said before,” Your date reminds you, “I didn't think I would be your type.”

You sigh like you’re already tired of reminding him he is definitely your type, “You’re literally on the other side of the table on a date with me, Matty.”

His eyebrows raise and the corners of his lips fall as he nods, “I did agree to it.”

You smile at him then, a soft one that has all of his attention drawn on you. “And if you stop gelling your hair I'll agree to see you when you get back from tour or, you know, I could come along and be your… Groupie.”

He holds back his laughter, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he does so and you can’t ignore the way your tummy flutters at the sight so your lips slightly raise in a smile. “For a second, I genuinely felt a flirt before you did that bit.”

“What no.” You half smile and your composure breaks seconds after he does.

Matty nods, a smile on his lips, “That was actually a thing.”

“No I was,” You try to come back from it but you’re slightly too flustered, “Was good.”

You desperately want to smile at his smile. But thankfully you muster up enough to make your face blank again even though the man across the table for you is making it hard.

“I get it now,” Matty leans back in his seat and smiles, “So you actually do flirt with people.”

“Yeah, I'm like a really good flirter. That's one of my special… Skills that I can do…” And you don’t know why you say it because you know you’ll embarrass yourself, but you can’t stop yourself from adding, “Amongst other things.”

“Other things?” Matty grins at that, and raises his eyebrows, clearly interested as he asks, “Like what?”

You take a deep breath to stop the smile that's pulling on the corner of your lips, but to give an answer but also not give an answer, you push your tongue to your cheek and tilt your head to the side a bit.

Matty smirks at that and gives you knowing eyes. But thankfully he doesn’t tease you more because he just crosses his arms and leans forward to rest them on the table before asking you, “Did Amelia actually go out with Aitch?”

And you lose all composure and burst out laughing after a few silent seconds of staring at his cute grin.  

Making you lose yourself has Matty’s grin getting even bigger. Regardless of him knowing that this would be a part you cut from the final edit of the date, he had broken your character for the briefest of moments and it was joyous for him to see.

He endeavours to do it again before your date is over.

“We can talk about that later.” You promise him, as you get your cool again.

Matty watches as you slip back into your character and your shoulders relax as you pick up another one of your chips to continue the date. He’s impressed by the ease in which you switch back and how you could just pick up where you left off like nothing had happened.

Getting back to your food, you ask him before having another chip, “What do you think is like your least attractive trait that you have?”

It surprises you just how quickly Matty replies, “Probably my personality?”

But you have to hide it, agreeing with him like it was the most factual statement he’d ever said, “Mmm yeah.”

“Yeah.” He agrees along with you.

“Speaking of your big personality…” You lead on to the next gag you want to make, because there’s no way you’re doing a purposefully awkward interview and not bringing up the fact he’s still not done something.

You continue to tell him, “We saw you at Reading. Amelia and I.”

He hums and takes a gulp of his drink, “Did you like the set?”

You force yourself to act like you hadn’t screamed every lyric of his from the very start until they left the stage. “It was alright.” You shrug, looking down to grab another chip, “You didn’t play my favourite.”

“Which is?” Matty was intrigued now, he would’ve guessed he had definitely played everyone’s favourites that night.

“Antichrist.” Your eyes don’t leave him so you see the way his face falls.

His eye roll and groan was automatic, “Oh for fucks sake.” he swears under his breath.

You also add another controversial moment that you remember the press had gone wild over, “And Amelia didn’t like the spit on the camera.”

Matty catches onto the mention of only your best mate to tease you, “Only Amelia didn’t like it?” And when you nod, he smirks, “So you enjoyed it?”

You shrug with a blank expression on, giving absolutely nothing away, “Maybe.”

And before Matty can say anything during this now hilariously funny awkward silence that you’re trying not to smile at, you move the subject quickly on.

You take a breath before you say, “You’ve tweeted about doing a podcast.”

“Yeah.” Matty confirms.

But without missing a beat, you plead, “And I was gonna say, like, please don't.”

“Yeah, no, it’s probably good advice.” Matty says after a little giggle.  

“You’d just make it all about yourself and we just don’t need that. Society would be good without… more.” Your hand awkwardly moves in the air as you try to point at him.

Matty fully ignores the insult so he can flirt again, liking the way you were forcing your smile back just a minute ago. “I reckon you’d make a great podcast.”

A smile breaks out on your face, and your hand comes up to your chest as you reply, “Oh, why, thank you.”

Nodding, he continues to reassure. “You have a nice voice. You could actually have me paying attention to any topic you’d talk about.”

“Even if it’s just Kardashian gossip?” You try to keep it funny, ignoring the way his comments are making you feel.

His eyes don’t leave yours when he says, “If it’s you talking then I’d have it on constantly.”

You really hope you aren’t visibly flustered because that comment has certainly made you feel some type of way that you have to push every thought relating to it to the back of your mind. “Are you saying you want to hear my voice on a daily basis?”

“I wouldn’t hate it.” Matty shrugs with a smirk.

You have to subtly bite your bottom lip to keep your expression collected. “I’ll talk to my agent, we can arrange that.”

But Matty glances down at your lips when you do it and you catch him as he didn't meet your gaze until after you finished that sentence. Your heart skips a beat, he’s making you want to ask for a break.

So you raise an eyebrow at him, a silent questioning for his actions but Matty only keeps his smirk on his face which has you sighing and reaching out for a sip of your drink.

To get the conversation flowing again, you take from what he’d just said about paying attention and ask him, “What were you like in school? I can imagine you were a loud one.”

Matty chuckles and nods to confirm that one. But then he sighs as he starts giving you the details of a young Matty Healy, “I didn't really concentrate at high school cause I saw it in the way of, kind of, getting in the way of my… Visionary genius.”

“You've always been a genius, would you say?” You ask, eyebrows raised, fully playing along like you believe him.

“I wouldn't call myself a genius, I-”

Interrupting, you point out, “You just did.”

“Well, I described my… So yeah, I've always been a genius.” Matty concedes and lets the joke roll which has you unapologetically smiling at him.

“But, so school was annoying.” Matty raises his eyebrows when he asks you, “Imagine being a genius and having to go to school?”

Shake your head slightly, blankly stating but with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips, you tell him, “I wouldn't have to imagine.”

There’s another few seconds that pass where you can tell just by the way your date is looking at you that he’s finding what you do impressive. And you can almost see the cogs working together in his brain so he can piece by piece get where he wants to lead this next.

But you’d never have imagined that he would come out and say, “I do genuinely find you quite attractive, to break the fourth wall.”

At this you really try to hold your smile, because hearing that is your teenage fantasy come true almost ten years later. You swear your heart starts beating faster and your stomach feels like it’s doing somersaults.

You can quite literally feel yourself screaming on the inside, not to mention Amelia’s eyes burning into the side of your head. Best friend telepathy is real as you’re sure you can feel her screaming at you inside her mind.

“It's a weird concept…” Matty looks from you to the crew and Amelia before back to you, “This is quite meta, this is kinda like high art.”

You smile and nod like he’s cracked an enigma, telling him plainly before taking a bite of a nugget, “Dating me is an art.”

Matty chuckles, “I’m sure it is.”

“So if you find me attractive,” You lean forwards a bit before you quote his song at him in an awful attempt to flirt like your character would, “How about we go, where nobody knows?”

“Oh wow,” Matty rolls his eyes, clearly understanding the reference but he’s far from impressed by it. Regardless though, he leans forwards as he plays along and sarcastically asks, “Shall I hide a gun under my petticoat?”

“Will it be a gun or will you just be pleased to see me?” You ask with a suggestive eyebrow raise before you eat the last bit of your chicken nugget.

Matty once again stares you down and as you chew your food you do exactly the same back to him. You’re not giving up after that great line and you can tell he’s dying to laugh. As are you really, but that’s just because he played right into your hands. You have this man right where you want him and he knows it.

However, you change up the game very quickly when you break eye contact to look down to grab another chip. When you meet those brown eyes of his again, you take a bite of your chip and state, “You're an Aries.”

All amusement falls from his face then and he visibly deflates, closes his eyes and sighs, “Oh god.”

“What? So are you not into astrology?” You ask like you can’t believe such a thing, but you knew this man so well, it was painfully obvious he hated it.

Matty looks at you with a face that’s begging you to be taking the piss. “Are you?”

“How do you know your big three then?” You remember that time he tweeted about his sun and moon sign.

So he rests his elbows on the table and leans on his hands to take a closer look at you. He’s smugly smirking as he asks, “You’ve been keeping up with my tweets?”

You don’t know how but you manage to stay still, hiding the fact that the new distance between you wasn’t making your heart rate rise. “They show up on my timeline from time to time.”

“I bet you have my notifications on.” Matty plainly states, a grin on his face.

You frown lightly, bringing back your teasing around. “You write some mad things there though.”

“Well that’s me, isn’t it? The same thing happens in my songs.” He shrugs as he pushes himself back to sit straight.

You hum, feeling calmer at the increase of distance. You ask like you don’t know each of his songs word for word, “Right… What’s that one about bursting into someone’s hand?”

“Part of the band.”

You snap your fingers and point at him, “That’s the one.” You bring in a joke then, to alleviate the tension you were feeling. ”You know, I prefer oat milk.”

It took everything in you to hold back the joke you actually wanted to make, about how he could burst into your hand anytime he wanted. That would have been one step too far considering you’ve only met him twice.

It takes him a minute to realise why you’ve said that but when he catches up on it, a snort leaves him and the sound makes you smile.

“That reminds me… Good for you.” You start back up, remembering something else from the song.

Matty’s face falls in confusion again, “What?”

“1400 days, 9 hours and 16 minutes? I wouldn’t be able to do it.” And whilst you’re actually really proud of him for that, you feel the need to make him laugh with a twist on the line.

He offers a tight lip smile, taking it very literally “Oh, thank-” But you interrupt him and finish your joke.

“You’re basically a virgin again.” You add, gasping slightly like it’s impressive.

Matty stays still for a few seconds before shaking his head, his expression showing how unimpressed he was about your joke. It’s not that it was too far though, or else he would’ve stopped you right there. “No that’s not-”

But you interrupt once more, “I’ll get you a purity ring next time I see you.” You promise with a smile, which has him shaking his head as he tries not to laugh.

You give yourself a few seconds to enjoy the moment and then you’re back resuming the conversation. “What’s your favourite lyric? That you’ve written?”

He sighs, trying to come up with an answer from the top of his head but he just can’t. “There's too many to remember. Do you have any favourites?”

He really is trying to get some more out of you even if it was through analysing your preferences on his music. And you do have favourites, but you’re not playing right into his hands.

You press your lips together before telling him like it pains you to reveal, “There's almost too many words.”

“Yeah,” Matty nods, “I tried to cut down on the too many words on this album.”

“Really?” You ask, and when he nods almost a little upset about it, you drive the point home by asking again, “Do people say, just please stop with the words.”

Matty fights the urge to chuckle, “To be honest, yeah.”

“Yeah.” You nod like you agree although inside you want to tell him to never stop.  

“Because it does get a lot but I've been quite… okay, my favourite lyric at the moment is ‘I’m in love with you’.”

“Awh,” You smile sweetly at him, “Thanks.”

Matty put you in your place, “No, I wasn't talking to you. I was just saying-”

And because you knew that was coming, you ultimately have to shoot him down and scorn him, “That’s your favourite lyric you’ve ever written? ‘I'm in love with you’?”

Matty rolls his eyes at your tone, “I’m just trying to be earnest and open, and you've just said my lyrics are pretentious.”

You act annoyed at his victimisation, “I’m just saying out of all the lyrics to pick, you've chosen ‘I’m in love with you’ which anyone could say and people do say all the time.”

Matty smiles at that and simply says, “Exactly.”

Entirely unimpressed with that answer, you give him a disinterested look before asking, “So where’s George?”

He takes a sip of his flavoured water, looking up trying to genuinely think about an answer but he has nothing for you, “Not sure actually.”

“Why don’t you know where your best friend is?” Your face contorts, acting like his lack of knowledge on the matter was the most ridiculous thing.

But Matty frowns back at you, curious about the random inquiry. “Why do you want to know where my best friend is when you’re on a date with me?”

“Because I want to go on a date with his girlfriend.” You state calmly like the answer was as clear as day.

Matty continues to play offended, “And you're telling me this as you're on a date with me, why?”

“Because it could be a really nice pairing for us”

He tries to join the dots then, “For us? Like a double date.”

But you take him completely aback when you answer, “If a double date is in the bedroom then sureee...”

It was a miracle his jaw didn’t drop but he was frozen staring at you with a chip midair on the way to his mouth. “I didn’t take you for one to fuck on the first date.”

“Well you don’t know me, do you Matty?” You bite back, daring him with your eyes.

Matty was quick to talk back at you though, “You know me then Y/N?”

And you could say yes, because there’s a lot you can learn by following them for almost a decade but he didn’t need to know that.

“Touche.” Is what you say back, and you know he’s smirking at you but you’ve just let your eyes fall to your chicken box so you could take a little breather.

It seems that your date does the same because the both of you dig around your take out boxes for a brief moment. You absolutely love that you get paid to eat chicken nuggets and chips.

You decide to divert away from your prompts for a moment and ask him something you’re actually genuinely curious about, “Are you needy?”

“Yeah, we're all a bit needy.” Matty tells you honestly.

“Yeah.” You nod as you dig for another good chip, but as you do that you see Matty’s hand scoot towards your takeout box and you look up at him confused.

Pausing, you see as he awkwardly retracts his hand but then places it down again as if he’s not just been caught.

You whisper, trying not to let your amusement seep into your voice, “Did you just try and touch me?”

“Well I- I thought- There has to be a moment,” As Matty stumbles on his words you offer your hand out to him and bite the insides of your cheeks to stop from smiling as he continues, “So it's like, ‘I'm a bit needy’.” and you have to stop yourself from screaming when his warm had takes your cold one.

“See and now we-” Matty starts but you interrupt him.

“Your hand is warm, my hand is cold.” You almost gasp at how warm his hands are and you hold onto his hand a little tighter.

“See,” Matty takes your chilliness as proof that, “You're nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” You lie through your teeth, although you’re sure nerves don't make you cold. “I’m deoxygenated.”

Matty looks a little repulsed when he checks, “You're deoxygenated?”

“Yeah.” You nod, “That’s what being cold is.”

Matty says nonchalantly, “That’s a turn off.” And he lets go of your hand.

“Oh sorry,” You scoff, offended like you had even a chance with him anyway. And you sarcastically add, “I’ll breathe better for you.”

Sarcasm drips from his voice, “Gee, thanks.”

“Why don't you just buy me some…” You trail off, not really knowing where to go with this now.  

“What?” Matty asks, completely baffled, “Oxygen?”

“No, a heated blanket or something,” You add in a little flirt, “To keep us both warm.”

“Or some gloves.” He shoots you down again.

You pause for a second then before you release a disappointed sigh, “Alright then, I guess we won't cuddle later.”

“I’m just thinking about your other dates… They could get jealous and not come on.” Matty uses that as his out and you decide to play along for now.

You hum in agreement, “I suppose.”

As you pick up another chip, Matty asks you, “Is there anyone else, like Drake you've got like- Has like anyone else cool said they wanna go on a date with you.”

“Err.” You think about what's coming up on your calendar.

But Matty says, “This is kinda like your slut era.”

“Well,” You grin and nod excitedly, “I actually think in 2023 I'm going to be even more slutty.”

Matty slowly nods and is quiet for a second before he says, “Wow.”

There was a strict no referring to Matty’s recent ex girlfriend, FKA Twigs, in the brief for this interview but absolutely nothing about referring to the ones before that. So you go in hard with it.

“Really hoping to get Halsey on here.” You smile brightly, and you pick up your can of Tango and offer it to him as a ‘cheers’ as you say, “Congrats for making it to twenty-eight, by the way. Rude of her to think you wouldn’t.”

Matty knocks his bottle of Volvic against your can and you take a sip just after you admit, “You know, with you coming on this date, I was really hoping to experience that religion she chats about.”

You flirt proudly and you love the way he smirks back at you. But you deflate his massive ego when you tilt your head to the side and continue, “Little embarrassing you need those blue pills to help you though.”

Matty immediately shakes his head, defending himself quick, “That was not-”

“Don’t worry, I will be taking the piss for how she says lilac.” You interrupt in a very dry and disinterested voice. You look into his eyes and sadly nod, “I can see why that relationship didn’t work just from that.”

Matty maintains a straight face but you slowly see a smile creeping on those lips of his. You do him a favour and say something else before he breaks.

You sit up a little bit straighter, with an excited grin on your face as you tell him, “I also can’t wait for my date with Alex Turner now.”

“Oh, you got Alex Turner to agree to this?” Matty asks, genuinely surprised at hearing that name fall from your lips.

“Well, not yet,” You smile sweetly, “But seeing as the two of you both date the same women, I have faith.”

Matty pauses at that and you think you might have pushed it too far. And you really have to clench your teeth together to stop yourself from apologising too quickly or ruining the gag. Because you found that fucking hilarious and you’re really hoping he would have done too.

But this long pause he’s doing where he’s just staring you down has you worried. And you don’t think you’ve ever felt relief like it when he breaks and smiles.

“That was a low blow.” Matty grins and he scorns you as he points a chip at you before he eats it and both of you laugh, needing to break the tension.

“I know you'll cut this bit,” Your date informs you, and he smiles as he says, “But I could get you the date with Alex, Wheels would kill to see it.”

You smile at that and at the mention of his nickname for his ex-girlfriend who is married to Alex Turner now. You’ve always found it quite cute that he is still really close friends with her, and she’s such a good artist, you would love to have her on the show. Which you don’t even hesitate to tell him.

“I would like to go on a date with her too, to be honest.” You smile.

And Matty knows just how much fun the two of you would be in a room together, so he promises with a grin, “I’ll hook you up later.”

You hum, accepting the help. “Maybe I should have Ross here. He’s fit.”

Matty, who was about to pop a chip in his mouth, pauses his actions for a second before continuing with a nod. “Yeah he is. He’d hate this though.”

You pout at the news, “Awh well. Oooo, what about George? George and Charli…”

He’s fully offended then at the second mention of his best mate, and the now erasure of his name when you talk about going on a date with George and Charli. “What? So I’m out of the double date now?”

You wince, “Well…”

But then Matty remembers watching a Chicken Shop Date with Charli so he frowns in confusion, “Didn't Charli come on a chicken shop date already?”

“With Amelia, that isn’t with me, is it?” your voice comes out sharp, like you were angry at the reminder you didn’t get to go on a date with her.

Matty raises his hands, “Oh, sorry.”

And then you just further play into the exasperation act, “Get your facts straight before you question me in future, god.”

It’s the way you sigh, absolutely done with the situation that has Matty containing his breath so he doesn’t laugh but you look at him, cheeks blown but the chuckles trying to come through and you just can’t not burst out laughing with him.

Hearing Amelia laughing with you and the crew not being able to hold their giggles back has you unable to calm down for the next minute. You let your head hang, silently laughing, so your hair covers your face.

You’re sure you’re blushing, so you try to gather yourself before showing your face again.

When you do though, your cheeks are still hot and when you fan yourself as you sigh, Matty smiles seeing you flustered.

“Right, okay.” The singer hears you mutter under your breath and when you brush your hair behind your ears, you’re back in character.

“Do you like taking risks?” You ask after taking a small bite of a chicken nugget.

Matty had picked one up as well and he takes a bite of his, nodding. “I like taking risks in my art more than in my life.” He quite likes this question, but he knows that he’s in for a change in direction, that’s what you do best.

“Like black and white music videos.” You add with dull enthusiasm.

Matty narrows his eyes at you, dropping the half eaten chicken nugget back inside his box, “Lots of people have done that.”

“Have they?” You quickly ask, frowning.

He looks at you like he's worried, as if he's not sure if you're joking when he confirms, “Yeah.”

“I thought you invented that.” You say with honesty laced in your words.

And there it goes, he thought. “Yeah and then neon.”

Your face lights up, “Yes, I heard you invented neon.”

“Tumblr was my idea.” Matty continues to list, and you nod like it was common knowledge. “Doctor martens.”

You smile and tilt your head then, uncrossing your feet and swinging them enough to know you’ve hit his. “Got mine on. Very comfy, you designed them well.”

Matty looks down, leaning back to see under the table and he shakes his head seeing you're wearing the heeled version. He tells you, “Gotta get them off, you're taller than me in them.”

“Well you can take more than my shoes off if you fancy.” You dare him with a raise of your eyebrows.  

He groans in response and you sigh, “Don’t act like you aren’t gonna write a song about this later.” You pop a chip in your mouth and stare at him.

Another concerned look shows up on Matty’s face and he sarcastically replies, “Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“What is it gonna be? ‘She took a video of us eating chicken and put it on the internet’?“ You almost blush, that was the cringiest thing you could’ve ever said.

Matty slowly looks up from his food, and fakes appreciation for the line you half stole from him. “That’s a very good line actually. I’ll pinch that one, but sorry, I don’t give credit.”

You feel the need to interrogate him for that, “Is that how it usually goes then? You have someone tell you lyrics and you just take them and say it was all you?”

He nods, unapologetic of his fake admission. “Pretty much.”

“No, but really how does it usually go?” You ask as genuinely as you can whilst staying in character. You want to start your next planned bit but he had to be unaware of it so you could get his best reaction. “Could you just tell me a bit about your songwriting process?”

“I suppose that I sit there, and I…” Matty starts then and you pull out a pack of Richmond Super Kings from your coat pocket.

As you’re pulling a fag and the lighter out, you notice Matty’s stopped talking. You look up at him and see he’s watching you, confusion written all over his face for you to see.

You tell him, “Sorry, carry on.” as you put the fag between your lips and light it with ease.

If Amelia was doing this interview, you know that this bit would have been hilarious because she doesn’t know how to smoke. But you used to smoke in your teens and you still partake from time to time so lighting up really isn’t an issue for you.

“I kind of look at the news… And I think about what's happening…” Matty continues to tell you, but you're paying him no mind now.

When you edit the video, you’ll be putting this bit in black and white so you’re fully pretending to be in a music video. But what both you and Amelia both thought would be funny, was that you should try and do smoking tricks.

So as your date continues with his songwriting spiel, you somehow manage to conjure up the muscle memory of doing a smoke ring. And when you do it, you sit up a little taller feeling proud of yourself.

Impressed, Matty stops to tell you, “That was cool.” as the both of you watch as the ring slowly gets bigger and eventually disappears.

“I am cool,” You smile at him, but instruct him to, “Carry on.” as you take the next drag of the cigarette.

But you should have just quit while you were ahead because when you try and do the thing Matty does all the time in the videos that you’ve seen of him, where he dangles it from one corner of his mouth and breathes the smoke out from the other side but it doesn’t work.

“And think about what's funny… And I think about how I'm feeling.” And Matty abruptly stops and he watches your struggle.

You look up at him and ask, “Is that right?”

“You don't need to do this.” Matty looks and sounds like he feels sorry for you.

You try and look down at the cigarette but ask point with your hands at the direction you want the smoke to come out of your mouth from, “How do you do it when it comes out of that side? I could never do it.”

“Give it,” Matty demands leaning forward to take the fag from you, “I’ll show you.”

You watch as he puts it between his lips and he looks like he’s just put it further into his mouth so the filter is almost against his teeth. Matty begins to explain, “So, like that-”

“Yeah, I knew that,” You lean across and take it from between his lips and when you do it, to make it worse, you purposefully don’t do it right and you know your mouth is practically fully closed. You just prompt Matty,  “Yeah, carry on.”                  

He looks like he’s hurting himself by watching your struggle, “No, because your lips are closed in the-”

You interrupt and just about mumble with your mouth closed, “Just carry on.”

And when Matty deflates and closes his eyes, letting his head hang as he says, “I sit there and I think about the world and about myself and I write.” it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing at his defeated disposition.

“Right I- I-” You stumble on your words as you take the fag out of your mouth and waft away the smoke, “This is really not me anymore.”

“This is never gonna work.” Matty sighs as he watches you stub the cigarette out in your food.

“I just.” You begin to defend yourself as you continue to put the fag out on one of your chicken nuggets, but then Matty offends you.

He simply states, “So unattractive.”

“That was attractive,” You defend yourself, as you look back up at him, “And this was a lesson for you.”

Matty makes a slicing his neck hand gesture a few times, but you just talk over him, “Don't smoke.”

He giggles at that which has you breaking character for a second too because that was a tragic section and you know you’ll cringe watching that back later. But then your date grabs your attention again.

As he picks up the pack of fags from the table, you quietly tell Matty, “Those are fake cigarettes, by the way.”

“They are fake cigarettes?” Matty asks significantly louder, which has the both of you laughing a bit.

“Amelia thought I could get arrested or something if I smoked inside.” You laugh and you have no control over it anymore, you just let yourself continue laughing at the situation.

Matty looks down to the ground and starts laughing with you, which has your giggles dying down as you press your lips together to not smile as big as you wanted to.

When he looks back up at you, Matty finds you just looking at him and he takes the opportunity to take his time and do the same. He twirls the strand of hair falling over his forehead as he keeps his gaze on you and you bite your tongue to keep yourself from blushing under it.

He looks at your clothes again, catching the look of the red bandana tied around your wrist. His eyes go up and down and then it suddenly clicks for him. “Oh, I've just now got it.”

“Got what?” Matty really takes his time to stare at you, which makes you feel slightly uneasy but now you’re just confused.

“You’re dressed like the girl from the robbers video.” He points out, rolling his eyes amused at the effort to make a reference with your clothes.

You hold back a laugh, and your eyes widen to play being so stunned at the speed of his thinking. “Wow, you are truly the einstein of your generation. We’re like twenty minutes into our date and you’re just noticing now.”

“I like the twist to it. I love the leather.” And Matty truly means it, the red leather pants look amazing on you.

You finally are able to play on the joke that you’d dressed up like this for, “I feel like maybe we should recreate the music video. You know, do an updated version of it.”

Matty keeps his expression blank as he meekly asks, “Is this just you trying to get me to kiss you through a bandana?”

“Yeah you caught me.” You shrug, without a hint of excitement on your face.

“So is Robbers your favourite then?” He shifts in his seat, actually wanting to know about your favourite song of theirs.

“The video?” You ask and he nods, not really meaning only the video but it was a start. You continue to lie through your teeth as if it didn’t somehow shape you as a person, “Oh yeah, it’s great if you love a shitty plagiarised version of a classic.”

It wasn’t what Matty was expecting, but just as he was about to open his mouth to get back at you, you went for him again, “It’s kind of like you! Aren’t you just a watered down version of Adam Levine?”

Matty glares at you then, completely unimpressed by your teasing. And just because he was still curious about your favourite, he ignores you and brings the topic back around.

“In all seriousness, do you have a favourite song of mine?” Matty asks, genuinely wanting to know.

“Why?” You ask hopefully, “Are you going to sing it to me?”

“If you want me to?” Matty shrugs slightly amused, “What’s your favourite song?”

You think about it for a moment, before you settle on, “Undo.” not entirely because it’s your favourite but you know where you can go with it.

Matty’s face falls, expecting something fun like It’s Not Living, so he has to ask, “You want me to sing Undo to you?”

“Yeah.” You nod, “Just the chorus.”

“How does that even go…” Matty’s eyes go wide as he thinks to himself for a second, before he starts singing quietly, “I wanna see you undo it, I wanna-”

You interrupt to tell him, “I wanna see you undo my leather pants too.”

Matty bites his cheek then, as he really should have seen that one coming. Both of you end up staring at each other again until you tell him another one of his tunes.

“I like that song you start most of your albums with.” You say as you pick up another nugget and take a bite.

“Oh,” Matty nods understanding which you mean, before he starts singing, “Go down, soft sou-”

“Yeah, you can.” You interrupt again, this time really having to stop yourself from grinning.

Matty frowns as he’s clearly confused, “What?”

“Go down on me…” You say a little quieter, and you pause for a few seconds before you say, “You can.”  

He’s taken aback by this, and you watch him as he leans back blinking slowly. A little, “Oh.” is the only thing that falls from his lips in response.

“Please.” You say quickly before leaning back into your seat and taking a long drink so you don’t break character.

And when you get no response, as the man across from you is keeping his cards very close to his chest, and you feel like you could crack up at any second, you decide it’s best to wrap up.

“Matty,” You smile, “This has been really fun.”

But your date shocks you when he says, “I’ll go on another date with you.”

“Oh.” You say and Matty can hear the surprise in your voice. You even sit up a little straighter, liking the sound of that, “Okay.”

You’re fucking buzzing that you didn’t have to ask yourself.  

And when Matty even asks, “If you want?”

You hum in agreement and smile a little, but then you see him offer his fist bump you and you frown at him like he’s just ruined this whole date.

“I don't wanna fist bump you.” You frown at him, almost like you’re cringing.

And he makes it worse when he mimes spitting into his hand for you to shake, and you shake your head and look at him like he’s an alien, “No, don't spit in your hand.”

And then your stomach drops when he puckers his lips and points up to them.

Embarrassment gets you quickly as you awkwardly say, “No, I can’t. I don't wanna kiss you.”

He surprises you when he asks an almost offended, “Why?”

“Because I just smoked a cigarette.” You say without missing a beat hoping that would be the end of it.

“Come on.” Matty grins, now leaning forwards on the table.

“I'm not, no.” You say a little louder, getting embarrassed now as he’s grinning at you.

He encourages with a big grin, “Come on.”

“No.” You shake your head as you begin to panic.

“Come on.” He’s enthusiastic now and you really can’t function anymore.

You just hold your breath, not knowing what to do as Matty stares at you. You half think he’s joking but then he very seriously says as he looks into your eyes, “You’ve gotta commit to the bit, let's do an earnest kiss.”

You look down, having to breathe for a short second before looking back up into those brown eyes of his. He’s grinning like a fool as he says, “Let's kiss, for real, right now.”

You take a second to think if you can do it, and ultimately you decide that you can’t. “No.”

Matty pauses and just stares you down for a few seconds until you crumble into your next excuse, “I can’t reach.” You shrug.

“I can reach.” Matty challenges.

You shake your head a little, “I can’t reach you.”

“I can reach you.” Matty repeats and as he starts to stand up to get closer.

“I can’t reach.” You say again and he gets closer, almost too close for your unprepared self. So you quickly hold your finger up and put it against his lips, “Okay wait, let me prepare myself.”

“Come on,” Matty encourages, “Don’t be pathetic.” but he’s saying it with the biggest smile as he sits again.

You take a breath and look down before you look back up and see the mischievous grin still on his face. ‘You can do this Y/N, come on’ You tell yourself and after a deep breath you put on a brave face.

“Okay,” You lean forwards and rest your elbows on the table like he is and you’re desperately trying not to get more embarrassed.

You can’t pussy out of this one because you’ll never forgive yourself and you know you’ll never hear the end of it from Amelia. And you truly don't want Matty to think you’re pathetic.

“I'm not doing the work,” You tell him, letting your flustered self be free now, “You do the work.”

“It’s 2022,” Matty frowns, but a smile is tugging at the corners of his lips when he asks, “Shouldn't you be doing the work?”

You say the first thing that comes to mind, “I did the work, I asked you on the date.”

Matty corrects you, fully smirking now, “Amelia actually asked me on this date.”

“Okay, I paid for your food, you kiss me, I think that's fair.” You point out, and you can feel your cheeks getting hotter by the second at the mere thought of him about to kiss you.

And when he doesn’t move for a solid five seconds, and you're getting more flustered and embarrassed at the thought, you snap and ask him, “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

“God, shut up.” Matty sighs before he picks himself up and leans across the table to kiss you.

The moment his lips touch yours, you’re sure your heart goes into cardiac arrest. Never in a million years did you think this date would lead to Matty Healy’s lips being pressed against your own.

Without being dramatic about it, the kiss is a long peck, but for you it lasts a lifetime. Because when you think it’s about to be done, you feel Matty’s hand cup the side of your face and pull you in for another one, one that is much less awkward than a peck on the lips.

It’s an actual kiss, where both of your lips move together for it to be remotely good, but obviously not going as far for any tongues to be involved. It was just a very nice sweet kiss and the cherry on top is the gentle stroke of your cheek just as he pulls away.

You’re fully not in character anymore when he moves away, you’re just so embarrassed. You can’t believe you’ve just kissed Matty Healy.

He sits back and says, “That wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You can feel your cheeks heat up now, and because you have no other words you say, “Thank you.”

Matty half grins and shakes his head and you can tell he’s about to get up from the table, and he says, “I’m going.”

So you say an equally awkward, “Thank you… Bye.”

“See ya.” Matty says as he stands and he walks over to Jamie.

All that’s left for you to do is to look embarrassed, which you can’t really help at the moment. You’re malfunctioning and you don’t know where to look. The ghost of Matty’s touch so very present on the side of your face, leaving you feeling things you won’t be able to shake up in at least a few hours.

You’ve never been so thankful to hear Tyler shout, “And cut.”

Your small crew does a little round of applause and to keep yourself busy and to try and regain some composure, you just take your phone out. As you calm down, you take a picture of the fag and ash in amongst your chickken nuggests and chips.

“Can’t believe one finally broke you, Y/N.” Your director laughs.

And without looking up, you tell him, “Shut up Ty.”

At that you hear your crew laughing and you're sure Matty is too. But you don’t look up, not until your best friend comes over and giggles, “That was quite possibly our best episode yet.”

“Amelia fuck off a minute, yeah.” You smile awkwardly, pushing her away.

But she doesn’t let you, instead she smushes her cheek against yours in a side hug and she gets you laughing again. But she embarasses you too when she whispers in your ear, “He fancies you.”

At this you shove her away, “Fuck off.”

“Can’t, need you to do the promo pictures now.” Amelia grins and kisses your cheek before standing back up and turning towards where Matty is currently standing by the window with Jamie, “Matty, are we okay to get some promo shots now?”

“Yeah course. Jamie needs to go over something with you as we do, if that's okay?” You hear him ask Amelia and she nods before heading over to talk to his manager as Matty comes back over to join you.

You smile at each other and you feel the embarrassment take over once again. But you try to maintain a somewhat normal and professional person by saying, “Thank you for that.”

“The kiss or the date?” Matty grins as he retakes his seat.

“Get fucked.” You shake your head, feeling your cheeks start to heat up now and you start to unapologetically laugh.

Matty chuckles freely now too, and he confirms, “The date… It’s fun. I see why you like doing them.”

“Yeah, they keep me busy.” You smile, encouraging a now normal conversation between you in hopes that it’ll make you feel more at ease around him.

“You guys ready?” Your photographer Poppy asks the both of you, and after you put your phone back into your coat pocket, you give her the green light once Matty is comfortable too.

There’s certainly an atmosphere between you and him now, one that you certainly are trying to ignore as you start smiling for your pictures. You can’t help but think he’s quite cute in the way that he poses for them, always tucking his hair back behind his ears, but he keeps that one little strand out for you to silently simp over.

You’re taking the pictures for no longer than five minutes, and once they are done, you ask Matty if you can get a few bits on your phone so you can make a TikTok and an Instagram Reel. Of course, he says yes as he’s up for playing along and watching you be even more creative.

You get your phone out and ask him to give your camera the eye in a few different ways. He looks so fucking sexy in his suit in front of you and you find that your cheeks heat up from just watching him through the camera. Thankfully, he’s easy to direct and he eats the food like you tell him too in a somehow sexy way, it should be illegal to look that good whilst eating a chip.

Matty even helps you with your side of the short video. He holds your phone for you and he encourages you to smile awkwardly at him and he loves seeing that even now you’re still a little flustered. And you take the phone from him to record the last bit yourself where you still awkwardly smile at him as you move the camera to and from you fast.

Even at that Matty is impressed because once he presses the button to stop recording, you change immediately and you’re back to your bubbly self again as you thank him.

Next you get your polaroid camera out that you always bring with you and once Matty tells you it’s okay, you take a picture of him. And because he won’t take no for an answer, he takes the camera from you and takes a picture of you posing as you eat a chip. The both of you chat at the table for a few more minutes about questions Matty has for you about your chicken shop dates and you do until you’re interrupted.

After Amelia and Jamie are done going over whatever it was, she asks Poppy to get another few promo pictures of you and Matty standing up beside each other. You send her a knowing glare but you stay professional and get up when Matty does and you succeed in not losing your shit when his hand finds your hip so he can hold you next to him.

You get a normal picture of the both of you smiling before another crew member of yours hands Matty his takeout box to hold for another picture. And in the next you steal a chip from it and take a bite.

And when Poppy thanks the both of you, you step away from each other as the crew start packing up the cameras. Pleasantries are exchanged between you and Jamie as Amelia chats to Matty a little more, no doubt coming up with more ways to embarrass you, which certainly turns out to be the case.

Just after you all start talking between yourselves, Matty checks his phone and he notices the time. He encourages Jamie to get ahead of the traffic and whilst they quickly say goodbye to each other, Amelia tells you what she and Jamie spoke about.

Thankfully it was nothing major, just that the bit about you knowing that Matty only lived 10 minutes away from this Chicken Inn needed to be cut from the final video. Nothing else was mentioned, and apparently Matty had given the green light for you to use whatever you liked from the whole video. You truly love it when your guests give you free rein to have your creative freedom.

Once Jamie had taken off, your crew starts packing down and you and Amelia stick around to help out if needed. You always do, although, you’re never wanted or needed because Tyler, your director, is OCD about his equipment and he doesn’t trust either of you enough with it, which you don’t exactly blame him for.

So both of you stand in the corner of the room with Matty and stay chatting to him whilst he wants to stick around. The conversation moves from the ‘date’ the both of you went on to Matty asking you how the both of you had found being in the public eye and different experiences you’ve had since doing so.

And as you’re halfway through telling him how mental it’s gotten, and that both you and Amelia are hosting the GQ awards red carpet next month, and how baffling it is to you, your best friend realises the time and has to go herself. Her ‘oh shit’ pauses your story and you’re reminded that she’s going out herself tonight and she needs to get home to get ready to head out into central.

That commute is an hour in itself so she’s probably going to be late to her commitment later if she doesn’t leave right now. She gives you a guilty look as you can tell she doesn’t want to leave you with the ‘overseeing’ of the crew putting the stuff away, but you tell her to go and that you’ll be fine.

She thanks you before saying goodbye to Matty and she gives him a hug, and then she gives you a big one which is a lot tighter than her usual hugs, so you know it has a hidden meaning. Since filming stopped, you could see in her eyes just how excited and happy for you that this episode had gone well, and she knows that you’re thrilled on the inside and you’re bottling it up.

“I’m coming round to yours tomorrow, don’t forget.” Amelia tells you and you nod, playing along as if that was actually the plan all along.

You know she’s just planned that so you can scream with each other about today's date and about how teenage you has just lived one of her dreams and she can die happy knowing she got to experience a kiss from the lead singer of her favourite band. You truly wouldn’t be surprised if she showed up at your flat with a cake.

“Go or you’ll be late.” You hurry her out, not wanting her to inevitably embarrass you more by saying anything else in front of Matty.

The both of you watch your best friend as she thanks and says goodbye to the members of your small crew and she quickly disappears out of the front door.

Now that it’s only the two of you, and the crew that’s packing everything up, there’s this sort of anticipation building up. You both know it, you can see it in Matty’s eyes and it’s making you giddy.

So he pushes the boat first, telling you, “I need to go for a fag.”

Biting your lip to hide your knowing smile, you grab his wrist, not really thinking about it, “Let’s go through the back door.”

You give smiles to the workers that see you walk past, but it’s only when you step outside and the cold air hits your face that you take a deep breath.

The small outdoor area the building has isn’t exactly the nicest, it’s just simple tiles on the ground and it’s bricked up like the rest of the houses around here. But it has to be better than the alleyway behind it where all the bins are kept and at least if you keep close to the building there’s a small canopy that keeps today's drizzly weather from getting to you.

Matty can see how tense you are, being accentuated by the speed in which you release your hold around his wrist so he jokes to make you relax, “So you did actually want to go where nobody knows?”

He smiles satisfied when he hears you chuckle, “You’re such an idiot.” Your smile breaks on your face freely now and when Matty sees it’s there to stay, he can’t help but stare.

His eyes stay on you as he pulls out a cigarette and places it between his lips, that’s why he catches you watching his every move and so he offers, “Do you want one?”

You debate within yourself, struggling to see if the craving is really worth it but seeing as you're about to start shaking from the situation in which you’re in and not necessarily from the cold, you nod.

When the cigarette is given to you, you quickly place it between your lips and Matty lights it up for you. He watches you take your first drag as he lights his own and it’s such a stark contrast to how it was inside. Scratch him saying it was unattractive, you look so incredibly stunning right now that he can’t take his eyes off you.

“So, you going to tell me what happened between Amelia and Aitch?” Matty starts the conversation off with something he knew could take the edge off, and when you playfully narrow your eyes at him while blowing some smoke out of your mouth, it makes him chuckle.

Back when Amelia’s Chicken Shop Date with Aitch came out, it sparked a lot of comments from everyone who saw it. Their chemistry had been very obvious, and it had been talked about everywhere on your and Amelia’s content. And afterwards, when they started talking behind the scenes, people had made loads of theories as to what they were doing and what their relationship status was.

Of course, you didn’t grace the public with any official statement to the rumours, because in reality they started fucking each other. And it wasn’t like your best mate owed anyone any explanations, so you just let the wave of gossip pass until it eventually died down and the masses moved onto the next pile of hot gossip.

“What do you think happened and I’ll tell you if you’re right.” Is the best you can give him, not wanting to talk about Amelia’s business when she wasn’t there to approve.

Without a second thought, Matty just spills his suspicions, “I think they started fucking each other, maybe did a friends with benefits thing for a while but then he said that he couldn’t commit to anything long term because he’s going on tour and he’s young and immature and he doesn’t want to be tied down.”

Your eyebrows raise hearing that, the detailed explanation making you want to tease him, “It's like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Well, now you know what happened with Halsey.” He replies nonchalantly, taking another drag of his cigarette.

You give him a small chuckle, “Wasn’t difficult to guess at the time to be honest.” Because it really hadn’t been.

“You’ve known about my music for that long?” Matty genuinely inquires. The Halsey situation had happened so long ago, it felt weird thinking back to it and being about eight years since then.

His surprise makes you frown, “Why do you sound so surprised? You say it yourself that you make good music, why wouldn’t I have heard it back then?”

“Ah, but you knew about Halsey.” Matty says, like it meant you had been obsessed with him since then.

You raise an eyebrow, “She wrote a song about you.”

He had everyone talking about them both when he turned 28 and tweeted about it, and Matty knew that but he wanted to see how much he could push you. “But you said you knew at the time… You're a big fan of mine, aren't you?”

You stare ahead, watching the tiny drops of rain fall down lightly. You two were taking cover under the bit of roof that was sticking out and covering about a foot and a half from the wall of the back of the place.

To tease him, you give him a smirk and a side eye as you say, “I can go off people very quickly you know.”

But Matty had all that Amelia had told him inside under his sleeve, “You’re really gonna stand there and lie to my face.”

The disbelief in his voice has you actually confused, “I’m not lying about anything.”

“Amelia’s just showed me a picture of teenage you with my name on your top.” He retaliates all smug and you freeze on your spot.

You will throttle your bitch of a best friend tomorrow. He doesn’t even have to go into more detail because you know exactly the picture he’s on about. Your white ‘lol you’re not Matt Healy’ top that you proudly wore everywhere back in 2013 and 2014.

You roll your eyes and admit, “Okay, yeah, fine. I do like your music.” You sigh, closing your eyes, “So much for best friends never betraying each other.”

A cackle leaves Matty’s lips then, making you open your eyes and turn to him with a hint of a smile. “She’s also told me about your riot tattoo…” He takes a step towards you, positioning himself in front of you so you can't stay looking ahead and evade his gaze. “Right there.” He takes your wrist in his hand and rubs underneath the bandana with his thumb.

You lick your lips, looking down at his touch and you shake your head before looking back up at him. “What else has she bloody told you?” You bring the cigarette back up to your lips, “Fucks sake.” You mutter under your breath after taking a long drag, only to drop what’s left of it on the ground, an action that Matty follows.

He lifts the piece of red fabric enough to see the word inked on your skin. “Why’d you cover it up?”

You have to control your breathing but with the way his thumb keeps brushing over your first tattoo, there’s goosebumps breaking out on your skin and you’re sure he notices, but you hope he alludes it to the weather.

“Because that's a turn off.” You argue but Matty’s quickly shaking his head.

He looks back up at you, letting your wrist down slowly. “No it’s not.” He reassures, and you feel like you can maybe breathe again by the loss of contact, but his eyes find yours and they stay there for a while, making it harder to keep your cool.

You open your mouth, not even sure about what you were going to say as the short distance between you has you malfunctioning but Matty beats you to it when he says, “You’re a tough one to crack, aren’t you?”

That smirk you have seen so much throughout the years comes back and you match it when you reply with another question which he might’ve said was not nice if it wasn’t for the way it made him feel. “Is it bad I like to keep people wondering?”

Matty tilts his head, taking in a short breath through his teeth, “A little bit cruel maybe, but nothing I wouldn’t mind enduring.”

You hum, “Like enduring the rain wetting your back right now?”

Matty thought you wouldn’t notice but with the rain intensifying, of course he had wanted to cover you from it. But to look more casual he just shrugs, “It’s only a drizzle, innit?”

It was like he had just jinxed it because you watch the drizzle turn into a shower and you can’t stop yourself from laughing. “You were saying?”

Matty shakes his head, grinning at you so big that it reaches his eyes. And you do the same but when he takes a step backwards and then another one so he’s fully under the heavy rain, you gasp.

And he doesn’t even give you the time to joke about what he’s just done because he walks back towards you.

Shaking your head, you only manage to say, “No, no.” as you think he was going to hug you and get you all wet, but he grabs your wrist and quickly pulls you with him into the rain.

“Matty!” It’s all you can say between gasps. It’s so cold and you can barely keep your eyes open, you’re just squinting from the water on your face. “You dickhead!”

He just continues to laugh and it’s such a contagious noise that you can’t try and fake being annoyed at him, you join his laughter. “Live a little Y/N! Just enjoy the rain.”

You scoff, but it’s only to hide the fact that you really are enjoying how mundane the moment is despite it being hard to believe who you’re experiencing it with. “Very easy for you to say, you have like three layers on.”

He realises then, he should probably get the umbrella out just so you don’t get drenched for longer or else you’d get ill, so he walks up to you and opens it up over your heads.

“You’re no fun.” Matty jokes, and when you roll your eyes at him as you try and fix your now wet hair, he just has to get you back to how you were before the rain interrupted.

So Matty purposely takes another step to shorten the distance between you. But then he leans forward, wrapping his right arm around your waist and bringing you impossibly closer to him.

“C’mere,” His voice falls to a whisper that sounds only a little louder than the spatter around you. “I don’t want you getting wet.”

The smirk on his face and his sarcasm has you rolling your eyes again, but he cannot ignore how you’re biting your lip as you fail to hide your smile.

“As if I’m not already drenched, thanks to you.” You bite back, and when you feel his thumb rubbing on your lower back, you can’t help but shiver.

Matty’s smirk gets bigger at that, and it continues to grow on his face when you react to him saying, “Only for the wrong reasons, love.”

You feel yourself blushing, so you decide to ignore what he’s just said for your own well-being. You’re truly on the brink of a freak out at this whole situation, 19-year-old you is screaming at the top of her lungs somewhere deep inside you.

“You’re really gonna have to make it up to me if I get sick and miss the next week of work.” You threaten, and it’s honestly an empty one because you don’t have much going on but you can’t think about anything else at the moment. Only Matty pressed against your front with his arm around your waist. Your mind is completely blank, and you have no idea what to say.

But you should’ve expected him to expertly make that the perfect start of another flirty comment.

“Do tell how you would like me to make it up to you.” He squeezes your waist lightly, and it all but makes you jump as he intently stares into your eyes.

You keep his stare, “Matty…” His name sounds like a beg when it leaves your lips and he fucking loves it.

So Matty continues to push your buttons, “Perhaps a cuddle… Isn’t that what you wished for earlier?” And he’s glad he can recall all that you said perfectly because he continues saying, “Believe you also pleaded for me to go down on you…” and your breath hitches in your throat.

Your voice sounds almost too weak when you reply, “Pleaded is a strong word.”

He hums, “But you did say please.”

You curse yourself for saying that, because you’re now just suffocating in this tension and you have no idea how to get out of it. Not that you really want to though.

You’ve already had a taste of his lips and being so close to another kiss really has your knees weak.

It’s like Matty reads your mind, or it might’ve just been that he had seen your thoughts shine through your eyes when he adds, “Maybe a get well kiss? Would that make you feel better?”

You’re unsure what happens next, as you barely hear the whimper you let out but Matty doesn’t miss it and you can’t control yourself when you say, “It might help.”

That’s all Matty needs to hear before he finally closes the distance and presses your lips together. At the same time, you both take a deep breath through your noses and like something had lit you both alive, you grow unable to keep it soft like you did inside.

Your arms wrap around his shoulder, and you don’t even care about the accidental knock you give the umbrella and how it wets your arms, you’re too focused on getting to feel this kiss for as long as you can.

Matty hates that he has to hold up the umbrella because all he wants is to hold your face like he had done before, and maybe it was the way he held you tighter against him that has you knowing so you bring one of your hands to cup his jaw while the other tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck.

When Matty deepens your kiss, he pulls you into him more and you find that you really don’t have that much control left over your impulses. Because when his tongue is suddenly teasing yours, you moan at the same time you pull your hand back from his hair to grab his tie.

You pull the fabric towards you, so he has no option but to keep this kiss going. And Matty is almost taken aback by your brazen attack. He knew you were nervous before this but just by this alone he would think you were the most confident woman on the planet.

The feeling in your stomach right now is something that you hope you'll never forget, because you can’t imagine this happening ever again. If you could stop time, you’d do so in a heartbeat because you don't want it to end.

So much so, that when you hear a nearby back door fly open Matty pulls away for the briefest second thinking you’d been caught. Clearly though, you don’t care because you grab his jaw and guide him back to your lips so he can kiss you again.

And Matty isn’t one to argue a kiss from a stunning woman like you. He kisses you back until you pull away from him when you lose your breath.

It seems that you’ve both lost yourselves in the gesture, as you keep your eyes closed and rest your foreheads against each other’s as you catch your breath.

Matty hasn’t kissed anyone since him and his ex split up and he certainly remembers the way he was with her initially. It was the same excited but nervous feeling he has in his stomach now.

He’s so fucking glad he’d gone on this date with you now.

After another minute of a breathless silence, your date is the one that breaks it.

“This isn’t what you do after all your dates, right?” Matty smiles with a joke, but there’s a small part of him that wants the reassurance that what’s happening here is special.

“No.” You breathlessly giggle at that and gently shake your head, “This is a first, don’t worry.”

He hums to acknowledge that, and it’s only then that he notices you let go of his tie. You part your forehead from Matty’s then so you can look as you flatten down his tie, but you don’t attempt to fix it.

Both of you are still breathing heavily and you’re savouring the feeling of being held so tightly to him. Another minute passes the both of you by then, the silence between you not deafening like it was inside as you have the sound of the rain hitting the umbrella above you and the ground around you to keep you sane.

And as you watch each other now, you’re not holding anything back, your guards are down and it’s freeing getting to stare into those brown eyes of his. Matty could watch you all day, he almost hesitates to start a conversation again just in case he shortens this between you.

“I get back from tour around the twentieth of December, but then I go back home for Christmas.” Matty tells you, his hot breath fanning your face as under the umbrella it seems to keep the hot air which is now making both of your damp skin get that muggy feeling. You wouldn’t change it for the world though because he smiles as he continues, “But I'm back for New Years. Might drop you a message then.”

You want to tell him that you’d absolutely love that, and that truthfully nothing would make you happier than meeting up with him without all the cameras and under the pretence of promo. But your sarcastic nature gets the better of you.

“Yeah, well, if nothing else,” You smirk as you remind him, “Please get me that date with your ex-girlfriend and her husband… Please.”

Thankfully it just makes the man, who’s still holding you to him like you might disappear, laugh out loud. You giggle yourself, finding the whole of today fucking mental, but nothing prepares you for hearing him half scorn you by saying, “You really should stop trying to get other dates when I’m trying to arrange our second one.”

Second date. Yeah, you’ve definitely gone insane and this is some sort of delusion.

“Well, stop with the gel in your hair and I'll think about it.” You smile, knowing that if he does message you, there isn’t a bone in you that could ever say no to him.

But you tell him sincerely with a soft smile as you glance up at his wet curls, “You look a lot better with it natural.”

Matty sighs, “You should have told me before the date.”

You giggle with a light frown, “I'm no one to mess with your image, Matthew.” And with the confidence that you now had in front of him, you tease him, “In other ways but not your image.”

Tutting, he warns you, “I’d stop if you’re not going to let me take you home now.”

“Okay, I’ll stop.” You bite your lip, trying not to recoil under his gaze.

But his face softens up when he tells you, “I had fun today.”

You give him the sweetest smile, one that has him melting inside, “So did I.”

And Matty can’t stay longer without asking then, “If I hypothetically asked you on a real date you would say?”

It doesn’t even take you a second to reply, “I would hypothetically say yes… Providing you have no gel in your hair.” You add at the end to try and keep the joke running.

“That’s hypothetically good to hear.” His smile gets bigger when you giggle.

“Enough with your hypotheticals.” You playfully scold him, but then you find yourself looking all around his face, appreciating every little detail and trying your best to memorise them. You brush back the wet curls that are falling on his forehead, swiping the drops of water with the pads of your thumbs.

Matty hums and lets his eyes fall close at your soft touch, and it’s when you smile at the peaceful silence that you realise just how long you’ve been outside and how he and you both were meant to leave very soon.

“How are you getting home anyway? Do you need me to call you a taxi?” You ask, already noting your phone was inside so if that was the case, then the two of you would have to go in again and wait there.

Matty opens his eyes and blinks slowly, “I’ll order an uber, don’t go worrying yourself.” Your worry was so adorable, but now it was time for him to do so, “How are you getting home? Where do you live anyway?”

You are quick to have him relax about your ride, “Crew will drop me back at the office and I get the tube home to Brixton.”

His face contorts as he realises that you’re going to have to go on the tube in your wet clothes. “That’s gonna be one uncomfortable ride back to Brixton. You’re all wet.”

You offer him a sarcastic smile, “And who do I have to thank for that?”

“Erm, well, you have a couple more things to thank me for too.” Matty’s eyes fall down to your lips, and you lick your lips just to subtly tease him some more.

You find yourself looking down at his lips again though, and then back up at him only to find him already staring at your eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

Matty leans forward with a smirk but doesn’t kiss you, instead his lips hover over yours by less than an inch and the way they brush over yours when he says, “You said so before.” has your eyes rolling back and it’s you again that seals the kiss.

This one feels different though. You are both just as desperate to lose yourselves in each other but it’s soft enough to know that you’re savouring the moment in attempts to remember the feeling of each other's lips until you meet again.

And the patience stays when your tongues move against each other’s, when he clutches you to him a little tighter, when you tangle your fingers in his curls and pull on them. Hearing and feeling him groan has your mind and heart racing.

It doesn’t last long, as you both are now aware of the time you’re taking but Matty thinks being selfish is necessary sometimes, so he presses his lips against yours again, this time only in a long peck.

But it’s enough to leave you both grinning like idiots, but neither of you can be bothered to care. You just stay there holding the other, until a loud honk pops the blissful bubble you were in.

“You should probably order that Uber now, the crew should be almost ready to leave.” You suggest, biting the corner of your swollen bottom lip.

Matty has to hold himself back from kissing you again, nodding as he pulls out his phone from an inside pocket in his trench coat.

It doesn’t take him long to call for one, and the app sadly tells you both that it’s arriving in 3 minutes, so you’re left to make small talk whilst it makes its way back. But neither of you mind, you feel like you’ve said what you needed to in between those kisses and none of you would forget the arrangement you had made.

So, the next 3 minutes are spent talking about how long it would be until the video would be done and posted, how they’d send it to them first and how it’d probably be the same with the pictures.

When the Uber is about a minute away, you two walk down the alley with the umbrella still over you and up to the front of the chicken shop. Your steps slow as you both try to put off having to say goodbye, but the moment arrives nonetheless and before you know it, Matty is crushing you in a hug with his Uber waiting behind him.

You are both reluctant to let go but when you glance over your shoulder to look at the grumpy expression of his driver, you know it's time to let go.

Matty is quick to remind you when he can look into your eyes again, “See you on New Years?”

You nod, with a massive grin on your face, “New Years.”

And because he wants more assurance - not that he needs it - and also because he doesn’t want you to get soaked again, he makes you take the umbrella from him.

At first you don’t want to accept it, you could easily just run a few feet back until you were inside the shop but he doesn’t let you give it back. “Take it.”

You stubbornly accept, but then Matty adds, “I want it back. On New Years.”

He has you giggling as easy as that, “And I’ll give it back. On New Years.”

“Good, ‘cause it was 200 quid.” That's the thing he leaves you with before he turns and quickly walks into the rain to get in the Uber.

You shake your head amused, and Matty manages to read your lips when you say, “Of course you spend 200 quid on an umbrella.” before he waves at you when the car starts to move.

And you wave back, letting out a sigh.

You don’t catch yourself standing outside the shop for another minute, just trying to grasp what has happened today, it’s Tyler calling out your name from the front door telling you to get back inside and away from the rain.

He and the rest of the crew had seen the hug and how Matty left you his umbrella but the director was now curious as to know where had you been from when you left with him for a smoke up until two minutes ago.

“You were out there a fair while…” Tyler trails off as you shake the rain off the umbrella to close it.

You know this is him trying to get some information out of you, so you just playfully glare at him and sarcastically say, “Oh really? I hadn’t noticed.”

They all know you’re not saying something, but you will be leaving them to their guesses until you actually muster up the courage to spill a secret or two. You trust this group of people with your life, but you wouldn’t tell any of these before you told Amelia.

You helped your friends get everything into the van you all came in, and before you know it you’re on route home. The trip to the office was quick, and you waited with Tyler to make sure that you got all the content downloaded onto his laptop and then put it on a backup external harddrive before a memory stick that you were taking home. You definitely didn’t need another disaster where you lost the footage to a date again. Especially not this one.

Truthfully, you couldn’t wait to start editing this one together, but you’d have to give yourself a few business days to recover. Their album is out in 3 weeks time and you can easily get it all together in the next week or so to have Jamie approve everything in time. You just need this weekend to process what’s happened today.

Something that’s still not fully hit you on the tube, nor when you go to your closest takeout on your way back to your flat. It hits you when your front door closes and silence washes over you.

As you put your food down, you release the squeal you’ve wanted to make since your idol sat down in front of you. And now you freely let your cheeks heat up at the memory of everything that’s happened today. You don’t even put music or the TV on as you eat because you’re so wrapped up in the memories of it.

You’re unable to process the things you said to him and the way you shamelessly flirted. The more you think about it, the more embarrassed you get and you let out small yelps as you recall some of the ways you chatted him up as you feel your cheeks flame. But that fact the flirting worked is the thing that you really can’t fathom.

You can’t believe he kissed you too, both on camera and again outside multiple times. The tingles on your lips and the way you can still feel where he held you close to him is one reason you don’t think you dreamt up the entire day. The only thing that stops you from believing that you had is Matty’s umbrella that’s propped up by your door.

And you can’t quite accept that he said he was going to get in touch when he got back off tour. A second fucking date. You might cry if you think about it long enough. But you really need to not get your hopes up.

Even if it does happen, little does Matty know that you’re certainly going to see him again before New Years. But after today, you think that you’ll stick to the back corner of those Pryzm gigs so you don’t have to deal with any embarrassment, especially when you know that the chicken shop date will come out the day after, the day their album releases.

You think adding to the mystery of ‘will he, won’t he’ will keep you sane. You can happily remain hopelessly deluded that this New Years meeting would happen. And if the end of December comes and nothing comes of it, you will just be pleased that you have this date to look back on forever. It certainly keeps the grin on your face for the rest of tonight.

But what gives you that glimmer of hope is an Instagram notification you got just before you crawl into bed. Needless to say, you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

@trumanblack started following you

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

| Part 2 | Part 3 |

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Ahhhh we really hope you enjoyed it! Please let us know what you thought, we want any and all reactions please! What do you think is going to happen next? Remember to follow @alovesreading​ as Part 2 will be posted on her account! (We haven't written part 2 yet but we will work on it as soon as I’ve finished @nriacc​, also hope you Alex stans liked your multiverse moment)

Please let either of us know if you want to be added to the Taglist x

Taglist: @drinkurkombucha​ @vinylandcoffeecollection​ @red---moon​ @better--oblivions​ @kennedy-brooke​ 

[hrryshoney]

only angel

gynecologist!matty healy x reader

A/N: the ppl voted and my blog is a democracy. i’ve written a couple blurbs abt this but here is the full fic :) i love this freak nasty man so here u guys go. (also, don’t like it? don’t read it! ;)) abt 3.6k words. also ty to my friends molly, olive, and josie for helping me out w bits and pieces of this. ily guys @think0fmehigh @automaticllamacycle @ilwysleep

warnings: smut 18 +, breeding kink, cum play, degradation, praise, size kink, corruption kink, taboo topics/power imbalance (doctor/patient), fingering, a lil oral (fem receiving), light choking, light spanking (once across the face, completely consensual), masturbation w toy (f!), mean dom!matty, use of Bunny, maybe petplay if u squint, dom and sub dynamics, problematic age gap maybe (reader is 22/23, matty is 29/30), dirty talk, lots more this is filthy etc..

You felt restless. Matty was at work, and you were home clenching your thighs together. You didn't have a class today, and so that meant no distractions either. You were ovulating, and your body was making sure you knew that fact.

Matty had left you aching this morning. Riling you up on purpose. Lingering touches on your thighs, caressing your bare skin. He didn’t listen to your whines or pleas, condescendingly reminding you that he has ‘important work to do, more important than getting you off.’ So, you lay in bed tossing and turning. Waiting for Matty’s return, however pathetic that sounds.

And time seemed to drag, nothing working as an efficient distraction. Every time you turned in bed, you swore you could smell Matty's scent each time. You couldn't find a comfortable position, and you were seriously contemplating going back to sleep. There was no reason for you to be awake anyway. Not when you had to just wallow here.

You would touch yourself. Slip your hand down under the waistband of your panties, rubbing your clit until you cum over your own fingers. But, you did make a promise. A promise to Matty this morning that you would be a good girl and wait for him to get home from work. That if you did wait, he would reward you.

You were on the brink of insanity, to disobey him or not? You didn't think you could, so you let your eyes flutter shut. Falling back into a state of light sleep, the white noise of the fan lulling you into a dream that you weren't going to remember when you woke up.

...

You woke up the same way you went to sleep, a dull ache between your legs. Grinding your teeth together, you threw the covers off your hot body and made your way to the bathroom. You were happy your boyfriend had a master bedroom with an attached bathroom, it made everything easier. You reached for your toothbrush, catching your reflection in the mirror. And, maybe you did look a little desperate. But who could blame you? It was really Matty's fault.

After you brushed your teeth, you decided you would take a cold shower. If nothing could snap you out of the state you were in, surely this would. You reached in, turning the handle to the coolest setting. Grabbing two towels and hanging them over the glass, stepping into the shower.

Even being in the ice cold shower for at least 20 minutes was no help. Images of you and Matty in the shower together came flooding back, only making you clench your thighs together more. How he would squeeze your hips if he was here, pressing you up against the glass and moving to get between your legs.

You shook your head as if trying to rid yourself of the thoughts. Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped one of the towels around your body. Opening the door to the bedroom, you walked to Matty's dresser and took one of his old band tees out. You threw it on after drying yourself off, along with a pair of simple white panties that had a small bow on the front. The pair you had worn when you first met him, you smiled at the thought.

After that, you crawled back into bed. You really had nothing to do. No work to catch up on, no shows to watch, and nothing to focus on. Your attention still lingering on the way your cunt throbbed under the fabric of your panties. You tried to remind yourself, listen to your promise.

But weren't promises made to be broken, anyway? You reasoned with yourself. You knew Matty. You knew that even his punishments could be taken as rewards. You knew that he could never do anything too bad to you. So, break the rules you did.

You tried to lose yourself in the pleasure, fingers working yourself as you shut your eyes tightly. But they didn't hit the same spots that Matty's did. And they never felt the same. Then, you remembered. You remembered the toy Matty had bought you so you could use it together. The one he kept in a shoebox in his closet, along with the other toys you two would frequently use.

You got up from the bed, searching for the black box on the floor of Matty's closet. Finding it almost immediately, taking the lid off and searching for the toy. A dildo that was almost as big as him, the next best thing if he wasn't there for you. Not that it felt nearly as good, but it sufficed when you were desperate like this.

Walking the familiar journey, you lied back down on the bed. The cold sheets making goosebumps raise on your arms. Matty's scent completely enveloped you now that you had his shirt on. You ran your hands over your own body teasingly. You knew you didn't have to do much to prep yourself, you've been ready all day.

You let your fingers slide under the band of your panties, tracing your slit. You were already so wet, moaning quietly as your finger bumped your clit. You moved the fabric to the side, beginning to get impatient with yourself. Your fingers swirled around your entrance, collecting the slick that was dripping from you and bringing it up to your clit.

You rubbed circles on your bundle of nerves, resisting bucking your hips into your own hand. You took the toy, bringing it down to your hole. The tip of the dildo prodding at your entrance, you pushed it inside of you slowly. Moaning out, one of your hands slid under your (Matty’s) shirt to tweak at your nipple. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood.

Pushing the toy fully inside of yourself, you brought your pointer finger to rub lightly at your clit. You could feel yourself clenching around it, brining your hand back to the base so you could move it in and out of you slowly. You breathing picked up, chest heaving as you allowed yourself to give in to pleasure.

That was your first mistake, you guessed. Or maybe that was not checking the time when you woke up. As you didn’t hear Matty’s car pull up in the driveway. Nor did you hear the front door close, or his footsteps as he made his way up the stairs. You didn’t hear the creek of the door, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back in pleasure. But, you did hear the clicking of someone’s tongue. You gasped, hand coming to splay out over your chest. Eyes opening wide, head shooting up to see your boyfriend standing in the doorway.

Your body was warm all over. The fact that you had gotten caught, but also breaking his rules? You felt shame creep up your neck. The toy was still inside of you fully, cunt dripping wet as you looked at the smirk on Matty’s face. He walked over towards the bed, shaking his head the whole time.

“What’s this, princess? Didn’t listen to your Doctor’s orders?” He mused, knee leaning on the bed as he rubbed your bare thigh with one hand. He trailed one finger from your leg, scratching his fingernail over your abdomen as he brought it down to your other thigh. You twitched slightly and he chuckled.

You whined as Matty practically drank you in with his eyes. His hand coming up to bunch his old band tee between his fist. “N-no, m’sorry, Doctor. But you left me. You left me, and I’ve been so needy all day.” You felt childish, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. The faux pout you received back from Matty only made more arousal pour out of you.

Matty ignored your words, gazing at you like a predator. “Use this often when I’m gone, baby?” He pointed at the you, gesturing as if he was disgusted at the thought of you using it alone. “Only cock you should be taking is mine.” His tone was full of condescension and it made you dizzy. You clenched involuntarily. His eyes followed the movement, looking between your legs.

“Please, Doctor. I’m sorry. I want you so bad.” You begged for him, lashes fluttering as you looked up and tears filled your lash line. “Need you inside of me, it’s not the same. Want you to fill me up.” And maybe you were laying it on thick, but it was all the truth. You’ve been so needy for him all day.

“S’a shame, bunny.” He laughs at your reaction to the word, rolling your hips into the air. “You couldn’t listen to me. Think you deserve to get fucked with a real cock? That’s only for good girls, not whores like you.” He traced the outline of your panties that were pulled aside, lingering for a moment. Tapping the base of the dildo inside of you, he stretched the band of your elastic and let it snap back against your skin.

You groaned, feet planted on the bed as you raised your hips up. He circled your clit, pinching it lightly and watching the shock run throughout your body. “I- I am good, Matty. Please, I wasn’t gonna cum without you.” You whimper as Matty slaps the toy again, then grabbing the base and beginning to move it in and out of you.

Matty scoffs at your words. “You weren’t going to, or you just couldn’t?” He says with a definite tone, pulling the dildo fully out of you. He ran the silicone toy through your slick, then tapped it on your clit three times. You dig your nails into the sheets, trying to not move. “Wanna see you stuff yourself with it, since y’were so eager.” Matty takes his hands off your body completely, moving to the tent in his pants.

You could see that he was straining against his work pants, cock begging to be released from the confines of the fabric. You could imagine how it looked, all flushed and pretty, leaking precum for you. Matty palmed himself over the material, letting his hips buck up. He squeezed his very visible length. You swore your mouth watered.

Your hand went to the toy, body begging for some type of friction. You fucked yourself with it, getting lost in the way Matty looked as he rubbed himself over his pants. It felt good, but it wasn’t him. You would never be able to cum like this. “Doctor Healy, please. I need you so bad, you’re the only one who can make me feel like this. Nothing else.” You pleaded with him, hoping he’d show some mercy. Maybe you were wrong earlier, maybe Matty could stand to punish you.

As if he read your mind, Matty just smirked at you. He was almost breathless as he shook his head. “You couldn’t be a good girl, my good girl, and wait. Now you have to be satisfied with a plastic dick, princess.” His grin made you infuriated, skin heating up. You moved your hand between your legs faster, closing your eyes. You felt a slap on your thigh, your skin stinging from the impact. Your eyes snapped open. “Look at me. You were thinking of me, right? Well, now I’m in front of you. Don’t be selfish, bunny.” He spit his words at you meanly, the smirk on his face making you lightheaded.

You thought you could cry. You kept a steady rhythm, but you just couldn’t hit the right spots. “Please, Doctor. Need your help, can’t do it by myself. Don’t wanna think.” You jutted your bottom lip out, hand slowing down as Matty sat up straighter. He stopped palming himself, leaning closer to you. His hands trailed up your thighs, meeting between them where your hands were.

He took over, how moving the toy inside of you with more fervor than before. His other hand came to swipe at your clit, the position had you moaning gutturally. The lewd noises that emitted as he fucked you were enough to make you embarrassed. Of course, Matty had something to say. “Little slut can’t even touch herself properly? Guess I’ll have to teach her.” He moved the dildo at a particular angle that had you screaming out.

“Oh my God, Matty! Right there- Please, I’m gonna cum.” You barely got through your sentence before three of Matty’s fingers were on your clit. They rubbed the nerves harshly, determined to get you to your climax. Your whole body shuddered as you came, slurring out a mix of his honorific and his name. Falling from your lips like a prayer. Matty fucked you through your orgasm with the toy, pulling it out of you when he saw you had come down from you high. You felt Matty’s tongue come to lap at your clit, flattening it against your juices. Your hands immediately came to tug at his hair from overstimulation.

He leaned up, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. His hands were on either side of your jaw as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. He swallowed your moans, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Don’t we taste good together, princess?” You nodded obediently at him, and you saw the glimmer of mischief in his eye. “Wanna taste yourself again?” He asked nonchalantly, bringing the dildo that had just been inside of you to your lips. You opened your mouth eagerly. Lips wide and tongue flat, Matty shoved the toy inside your mouth. You moaned around the object, the taste of your own juices coating on your tongue. You opened your mouth and swirled your tongue along the tip for show, watching as Matty’s eyes darkened and jaw clenched. “Don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” He pushed the toy aside, shoving your jaw away.

His hand wrapped lightly around your throat, and he brought three fingers down to your entrance. You were already so fucked out, and you knew he wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Matty’s moved his hand and pushed your (his) shirt up over your chest. He pinched and played with your exposed nipples, sucking on them until they were completely hard. He blew on your sensitive buds, reveling in the way you squirmed from the cold air.

He pushed two fingers into your cunt easily, already being so wet and open for him. You gasped, clenching your thighs as me moved his digits rapidly. “Tight little cunt, even after I stretched you out like that. Practically fucked you open.” He shook his head, spitting on your pussy. “Can’t wait to fuck you dumb, princess.” He added another finger, stretching you out even more. “Perfect little cock sleeve for me. M’glad you know your place.” Matty spoke blissfully, almost more lost in it than you.

“P-please, Doctor. Need you inside of me. Want you to fuck me and fill me up.” You babbled and nodded your head, trying to chase another high as Matty’s fingers never ceased their relentless pace. You didn’t even realize what you said, but you realized how he slightly faltered. Rhythm stopping for a beat, breath hitching. His hand moved to your stomach, pressing down.

“Yeah, princess? Want me to put a baby in there? You want everyone to know you belong to me, that your doctor got you pregnant?” He snickered, removing his hand from your pussy. He took his fingers up to his mouth, sucking off any remnants of you.

Matty stood up to unzip his pants, finally feeling relief on his hard cock. He unbuttoned his top, shrugging it off to the floor. You got lost in his tattoos, how his muscular arms bulged every time he moved. You knew your mouth was agape, and you were just feeding his ego even more. But how could you not? Especially when he steps out of his pants, pulling his briefs down. His hard cock almost slapped against his abdomen, the tip an angry red color. He was leaking pre cum, and he stroked himself twice as he squeezed his length in his fist. “Open your legs for me.”

You put your legs up on the bed, opening them as wide as your body allowed. Your panties that had been pulled to the side were now fully discarded of, as he roughly pulled them off your body. Muttering something of how he ‘wasn’t gonna let anything get in the way.’ He lined himself up with your entrance, but didn’t push himself inside of you. You took that as your window to beg for him.

“Doctor- Matty, please. I need you inside of me so bad. Just wanna feel your cock inside my cunt, it’s all I need. Wanna feel you cum inside of me.” You whined out, your rambling coming to an end as he pushed inside of you without warning. Matty made you take him to the hilt, burying himself inside of your warm cunt. Your slick pouring out around him.

Matty pounded into you, hand finding home on your neck again. His hips slapped against yours, combining with your wetness and filling the room with filthy sounds. Both you and Matty’s moans filling the empty spaces. “Cunts clinging to me, just sucking me right in. Can tell she wants me to cum inside of her.” Matty stopped his rhythm for a moment just to slap your clit. “Tell me ‘thank you’.” He said smugly.

The way he talked about your pussy made you clench around him in embarrassment, face heating up. He tightened his grip on your throat, squeezing the sides. You felt dizzy in the best way possible.

“W-why should I? You haven’t even finished with me yet.” Your smirk and bratty attitude didn’t last for long, he lightly slapped you across the face. Just enough for it to sting. Your body felt like it was buzzing, and your hole clenched around him.

“Messy girl.” He tsked, hips stuttering. He pulled his cock out of you. Making you whine in protest. “Shouldn’t even fill you up, bad girls don’t deserve my cum.” You know he’s bluffing, but your eyes go wide in fear. He wouldn’t leave you high and dry.

“N-no! Matty, m’sorry. Please, Doctor. You know I need it.” You folded immediately. Your body was restless from the lack of contact know, the only thigh touching you were his hands ghosting up your sides.

He ignored your pleas. "You know, bunny," You moan out as Matty speaks, running the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, pulling back when you try to arch into him. "Best time to try and knock you up is right now, when you're ovulating." Whines fall from your lips helplessly, pleasure being robbed from you as he keeps pulling away from your cunt. Of course he remembers the cycles of your body. "Gotta make sure it takes. Can't have you wasting my cum, right?" He chuckles at your reaction, his thumb pressing down on your clit as he brings his cock to your entrance again.

You feel full again as he presses into you, and your body felt like it was on fire. You nodded along to everything he said, easily obeying him. You needed to cum, and you needed his cum, too. “God, Matty. I’m close, please.”

“Hold it.” He replies, rubbing hard and firm circles on your button. “Tight hole is creaming around me. Little bunny, should get you a collar. Tie you down and keep this pussy stuffed full all day.” You groaned out, no longer being able to string a coherent sentence together. All you could do was shake your head. Matty chuckled. “Yeah, bunny? Like that idea? Maybe we should get you a tail, too.” Your senses were on overdrive. Matty really was fucking you dumb. And he almost seemed pussy drunk himself.

“Come on, princess. Cum around my cock, let me feel you.” He spit on his fingers, bringing them down to your clit, letting it drip down to where you two were connected. It sent you over the edge, coming for the second time that night. Your eyes rolled back in your head, throat already sore from how you were screaming his name and title. You felt Matty’s dick twitch inside of you, his steady pace faltering.

“Fuck- gonna fill this cunt up.” He groaned out in a raspy voice, and you felt the warm liquid painting your insides as his chest heaved. You moaned at the feeling, loving how he felt inside of you. You could see beads of sweat on Matty’s forehead when you opened your eyes, and a blissful smile crossed your face. You moved the hair from his forehead, and he smiled back at you.

When Matty pulled out, you winced from the empty feeling. He watched as his cum started to leak out of you, reaching up by your head to grab a pillow from the top of the bed. He positioned it under your hips, scooping up the cum that had already dripped out and pushing it back inside of you. He bumped your clit as he did so, enjoying the way you jolted. He let his fingers slip inside of you again, hooking them as he found that spot that made you go crazy. You felt tears prick your eyes. Matty poured in faux sympathy. “Oh- I know, baby. I know. S’that my spot? Just know this little cunt too well.” He curled his fingers inside of you again, leaving them now to act as a sort of plug. You giggled, slapping his shoulder. “Matty!”

“What? M’gonna make sure you get pregnant.” You could barely see the brown in his eyes, pupils completely blown out. He smiled, leaning in to kiss the top of your forehead. “Wanna see you all round and full of me. Even if that means fucking you every day this week, and again tonight.” And from his tone of voice alone, you knew Matty was deadly serious.

[abiiors]

corruption ❤️‍🔥 // matty healy x reader

a/n: not entirely happy with this idk why. had to edit the original snippet to fit better into the context?? but ugh yeah hope you enjoy. there's a very real possibility that this might be deleted later cw: overstimulation, ass play if you squint really really hard, fingering, slight cumplay, mean matty and degradation, oral, gets a bit sweet in the end because it is me afterall wc: 3.5k

the office is in disarray. people running around, files and folders stacked tall in their hands as a nervous hush settles over the entire building. when your phone dings with his message that night, you know you’re in for it. well, you’ve known that since you watched the live debate really. 

matty is livid. 

it’s not that he lost, it’s that he managed to scrape through barely and he is not a man who does things barely. 

you could see it so clearly even through the large plasma tv screen in the party offices—the way his mouth was pressed in a tight line. and how when he did smile, it never reached his eyes. instead all you could see in them was cold anger. 

tomorrow your boss might get fired for this but tonight it’s you and your sanity that’s on the line.

the message glares at you through your phone screen – 8 pm. 1205. the grand. 

you don’t type a response to it because it doesn’t need one. he’s not asking, he’s ordering. involuntarily, you clench your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come. tonight is going to be rough, you don’t need to anger him more by being late. so you quickly pack your bag and run out of the offices to hail a cab. 

7:57. that’s when you find yourself outside of his hotel room, your heart thudding in your chest, panties soaked through from all the scenarios you couldn’t stop repeating in your head—his hands gripping the mic, the podium, knuckles so white. maybe you could ask him to grip your throat like that tonight. 

you lift your hand up, shaky and fidgety, about to knock just as someone grabs you by the waist, pushing you against the door. you open your mouth to yelp but matty’s already turning you around, capturing your mouth in a hungry kiss. 

sharp teeth clashing against soft lips—his fingers dig into your waist, wrinkling the cotton shirt tucked into your figure-hugging skirt. it takes him only a second a untuck it. another to push his hands inside and rub his thumb over your peaked nipples. 

his hair is askew—not so neatly combed as it was on tv—as if he’s been running his hand through it in frustration. his suit jacket has already been discarded somewhere, white shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing veins and a few scattered tattoos. 

“my obidient little slut,” he grunts against your neck, mouth already sucking on your sweet spot. you squirm against his touch, nervous that someone might walk in on you. and oh, what a scandal that would be…

“relax…” he breathes. behind you the door clicks open. “we have the whole floor to ourselves. need to hear you scream my name tonight.”

you get lost in his words and forget to breathe, to nod. he’s pushing you back against the wall, fumbling against your shirt buttons until he gets so frustrated, he rips it off you. the buttons go flying everywhere, clinking a few times before the room is filled with your gasps once again. 

“be my good little pet tonight, won’t you?” his words are murmured against your clevage. you nod on autopilot. his good little pet. yes. 

“words…” he warns. 

“yes, s–sir,” you gasp out, somehow managing to two little coherent words. and it’s good enough for him. 

matty pulls away, almost making you stumble and lose your balance but the wall holds you up. “on the bed,” he commands. his hands are at his throat, loosening his dark blue tie. the soft silk looks inviting, promising. so you walk up to the bed on shaky legs, watching his every move and how he slowly takes the tie off, taking his time to smoothen every little crease on it. 

“on your stomach, pet,” he commands again, less patient this time. “ass up.”

the two words are enough to make you whimper. you know what’s about to come. the man in front of you has a penchant for ruthlessness. especially when things don’t go his way. and yet the fear in your body feels more like excitement, the ache between your legs superseding every other need, as you lie there for him exactly how he’s asked—face smushed the soft pillows, ass up and your still-clothed pussy in his view, for him to use and abuse as he pleases. 

you know your skirt has ridden up enough that he can see the red thong you’re wearing, perhaps even the damp spot on it. 

“you know why we’re here, sweetheart?” his voice comes from somewhere in the room. perhaps he’s moving, walking around and looking at you from all angles. you wouldn’t know, your eyes are already closed tight, bracing yourself. 

“because the debate—”

“didn’t go so well,” he finishes. suddenly, there’s a hand on your back, undoing the buckles on your bra with deft fingers until it falls off you and onto the bed. cool air brushes against warm skin and goosebumps erupt all over your body. but matty doesn’t stop there.

next him hand moves down to your ass, stroking it. and just when you think he’s about to spank, a tearing sound rips through the room—your tights, now on the floor in tatters. 

“and why didn’t it go well, pet?” he asks, a ghost of a touch against your inner thigh, moving up and up and making it difficult to focus on anything. “cat got your tongue?”

“because—” you whimper, unable to finish because his fingers slide your thong aside at that exact moment, collecting the wetness, brushing against your clit. 

“yes?”

“bec–fuck! um—”

“dumb little slut, aren’t you?” his voice carries a dangerous edge, matty is not to be trifled with tonight and yet you struggle to form a coherent sentence, stuttering the words like a bumbling idiot. “but i didn’t think you were a dumb little slut at work…”

“m’not!” you whine. this little secret aside, both you and he knows that when it comes to work, you’re diligent and focused as a shark, your ruthlessness rivaling that of his. except he’s the shining star. the sun around which everything else revolves.

matty’s hand is back on your thigh, tracing dizzying circles. “i told you i wanted your ideas, didn’t i?”

you swallow. 

that he did. explicitly. not once but twice. 

“and yet you disobeyed me, pet.”

another muffled sound of protest tears out of you but you know there’s no point in arguing with him. telling him that your boss rejected your ideas. you should have been more assertive, more dominating. but you weren’t. and now it’s time to face the music. 

“what should i do first, hmm?” his fingers are back at your entrance, neglecting your clit entirely and spreading your folds for him to see. 

reflexively you try to clench your thighs together, too embarrassed that you’re already so excited, practically dripping onto your thighs but matty is quicker. a sting blooms onto your ass cheek. 

“what did i warn you before, hmm?” you gasp into your pillow, still reeling from the spank, trying to remember his words. “be–be a good pet.”

“and what do good pets do?” you struggle to keep up with his words, too wrapped up with how animalistic his voice sounds, how it reverberates through your entire body. the air whooshes as his hand cuts through it. another spank. another yelp from you. 

“th–they listen.”

“good girl…” his hand caresses the spot again, soothing some of the sting before matty climbs onto the bed. the mattress dips, his fingers are back at your entrance, back to parting your folds and swiping through them lazily as if he has nowhere else to be. as if he has all the time in the world. 

this time you let him, desperately trying to hold yourself up on shaky limbs. 

without warning matty plunges two fingers in. 

“fuck!” it’s more a hiss than an actual word. your entire body zings from the sharpness of it, trying to adjust to the sudden thickness between your legs. matty let’s you breathe through it, gives you a reprieve of just a few seconds, before he’s moving them deeper. 

“colour?” 

“green. green!” 

he chuckles condescendingly, moving his hand and pumping his fingers faster. “so eager for me, such a slut.”

the ring on his middle finger touches your clit over and over again, the cold gem brushing against your heated core, making you hiss and cry. the orgasmic feeling builds deep inside you, slowly spreading through your entire body, taking you higher and higher with each pump for his fingers, each brush against your clit. 

“please mat–sir! please,” you cry out, sobbing almost a damp spot grown on the pillow. you want to cum, want to feel that euphoric high. 

“please what, pet?” he tsks.

“let me cum, please…” 

you expect him to deny it, expect him to turn this into a power play and watch you squirm under him and beg for a release. to your surprise, matty presses a thumb against your clit, uttering just one word—cum. it’s the shock that pushed you over the edge, legs spasming as you gush onto his hand, relishing the way he keeps fucking you through the orgasm, through your chants of oh my god…

and his fingers don’t stop moving. 

instead matty settles behind you, your ass raised up right in his face and presses his tongue against your core, sticking it inide and lapping up your release that has you squirming in place and crying out as the heat bubbles up inside you again. 

the tip of his nose presses between your asscheeks, making you yelp. it’s a new sensation… not one you’ve experienced before. matty only laughs at your reaction. 

“did i startle you, sweetheart?” he speaks right near your entrance, the vibrations from his words building up the familiar feeling once again.

“matty…” you whimper, not even caring that he wouldn’t like that. and his displeasure becomes evident a moment later when you feel a nip at the soft skin of you ass, teeth sinking into your flesh. 

“what are you good for, huh?” he growls, “need me to fuck you into being a good girl?”

“yes…fuck—” whatever you were about to say is cut of by his tongue sliding inside you again, thumb flicking roughly against your clit. with his other arm, matty holds you up, stops you from sinking onto the mattress entirely. 

his tongue and his thumb create a dizzying rhythm, altering pressure against your insides and on your clit until you’re cumming all over his tongue, practically on his face with his lips still attached to your entrace. matty takes it all, lapping up every last drop and holding you by your waist to keep you upright until you’re panting and sobbing, unable to handle the euphoria. 

you get a few moments to breathe in between, just a few seconds to pull yourself back together before his fingers are plunged inside you. the rhythm repeats, cold metal, wam skin, rough thumb, your body that jolts from his electric touches, matty who coaxes another orgasm out of you in minutes. this time his fingers form a v inside you, stretching you out more. 

it hurts at first as your body desperately tries to adjust to it. the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt is too much, the filthy, obscene squelching sounds, that he seems to get off on. 

you bite onto the pillow so hard that it rips. seconds later, matty’s laughter rings out in the room as he realises what you’ve done. 

“look at you, sweetheart,” he taunts, “so feral.” his fingers part inside you again until you are capable of nothing else but screaming his name over and over again, begging for just one more orgasm. another one and the you’ll be satisfied. just one. 

“please, sir,” matty mocks in a high pitched voice, an exaggerated pout on his face. it borders on cruelty. it’s a shame your body confuses humiliation for more pleasure. “made you cum multiple times, wasn’t it enough? greedy cockslut,” he spits. 

you know you’re close to cumming again, waiting for his permission. your body strains from the effort feeling too full. until his fingers slide in deeper and something clicks. 

“go on then,” he grunts again but you already are… 

wet hot liquid gushes all over his hand, practically drenching his face that’s so close to your cunt right as you cum—no, right as you squirt all over him. 

his arm’s not enough to hold you up this time. not that he tries to as you finally fall onto the mattress, trembling and breathing hard. a sharp intake of breath behind you tells you how astonished matty is. 

he recovers quickly, though, flipping you onto your back and then matty’s pulling you up and into his arms…

this is a first. not just the squirting but being held in his arms while you tremble from the aftershocks of the intense orgasm. 

“that was…” he is speechless, you realise. in all your time knowing him, he’s never been speechless. certainly never while stroking your hair after an orgam. 

“such a good little pet,” he mumbles into your hair. “what’s your colour, sweetheart?”

through the haze you try to make sense of what he’s saying. somewhere behind a fog, your mind knows the concept of colours, you know it and yet it takes you a full thirty seconds before you can answer him in a hoarse voice that you barely recognise as your own. 

“green.”

shakily, you try to fumble with his shirt buttons, wanting nothing more than to feel his skin on yours. you need to feel closer to him, to look at him while he’s buried deep inside you. even as you feel like you might float away if he lets go of you, you need him. more that before. 

“hey, hey, hey,” his big hand wraps around your wrist, still wet and sticky from your release but you don’t care. “what are you doing?”

“need you,” you whine. it’s desperate and pathetic. “please, just… need you—”

“fuck, sweetheart,” he curses against your hair, finally letting you undo all his shirt buttons with shaky and unsure hands. matty sits still, letting you take your time. “do you even know what you do to me?” 

you?? to him?? you want to ask if he knows what he does to you. how he has you thinking about him day and night, has you desperately seeking out your pillow on lonely nights, imagining it’s his hand between your thighs, his body weighing heavy on top of yours. 

“let me fuck you, baby.” for the first time, matty’s voice is gentle… the edge of it doesn’t go away though, it’s still there, even if it’s barely noticeable. “been so good for me today. just lie back down and let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

the words do something funny to your chest, make tingles spread all over your body and you wait for him, lying on your back and desperately clenching around nothing. 

“come back,” you whine, even when he’s hurrying to shed his clothes, to pull your skirt off of you. all in all it takes him a minute to be back between your legs, his hard cock pressed against you and making your hiss, but your body feels cold from the absence of his body heat. 

“my needy little thing,” he murmurs. even when he seems tender, his particular desire to torture you stays. 

matty doesn’t enter you just yet, still keeping his fingers on your clit, drawing figures of eight on it until your mind is floating, your body loose and completely malleable in his hands. you barely even have the energy to open your eyes and look at him, at his curls plastered to his forehead. 

“i ne–need you,” you cry out again, getting squirmy and desperate, writhing beneath his touch. he doesn’t oblige, he just keeps building up another orgasm in you. even when you’re getting too sensitive to his touch. 

“you’re my little toy, aren’t you?” his words keep falling onto your ears from all sides, nothing compared to the haze of ecstasy you’re in. “cum for me again, baby. just one more time and then i’m yours. then i’ll do whatever you want.”

you know better than to trust his promises. 

outside of this bedroom, his entire job hinges on his ability to get people to believe in his promises. to fall for his sweet words. 

and what had he called you before? a dumb little slut? because he might as well be right. 

within minutes you’re falling apart around his fingers again. you have no control of your body anymore, no control over your orgasms. all you can to is cling onto him, wrap your legs around his waist to keep him close. to keep holding onto the last thread of your sanity. 

“there you go,” he breathing onto your skin before you’re even done coming down from your high, sliding inside you before you can catch your breath. 

it’s maddening in the best of ways—to be so full of him that you forget about your own existence. 

“matty…”

“sound so sweet when you say my name like that, baby.” his voice comes from somewhere on top of you. he’s bottomed out now, hard and thick and filling you in so much more than his fingers did. 

the soft sheets of the bed rustle against your skin as he moves—slow at first and only ramping up at the pace when you nod at him and squeeze him between your legs. 

your long nails dig deep into his shoulders, sinking into his skin and leaving scratches all over his unmarred skin but you need to hold onto something. his cock hitting that spot deep inside you feels too good. his hips ramming into yours has you on the edge so much quicker that you can ever imagine. you aren’t going to last much longer and matty’s only just getting started. 

“look at you,” he tuts, “fucked dumb and practically drooling onto your chin. is that what my cock does to you, hmm?”

you nod like a puppet on a string. a whine builds deep in your chest and each of his movements has you clawing his back. matty takes it all—the pain from your sharp nails, you clenching tightly around him over and over again, squeezing his body between your thighs. 

his hips ram against yours, body tensing the more he moves, stomach muscles pulled taut. 

“fuck,” he grunts, “‘m close, sweetheart, gonna cum inside you, okay? gonna pump you full of my cum.”

“ye–yes, ‘m close too, shit, so–so—”

matty shushes, sparing you the effort of constructing an entire sentence. he’s twitching inside you, moving in an erratic rhythm. sweat drips off him and onto your chest. and it’s the one particularly hard thrust that gets you before you’re clenching around him tightly, cumming with everything left in you, dizzy and disoriented. 

that must have pushed him over the edge too because you feel something warm and thick filling you up, dripping down your thighs. his arms shake with the effort of holding him up on top of you but you’re too far gone to care. too far gone to even relish in the groans that echo around you. all you can do is quietly whimper his name and hold onto him tightly, to keep him inside you, close to you for as long as possible. 

exhaustion weighs on you like a tonne of bricks. if only you could close your eyes for a second…

“hey!” matty sharp voice jerks you out of your thought. 

“tired…” is all you manage to say. but a moment later he’s pulling out of you. the emptiness you feel has you whining softly, barely even paying attention as matty dips his mouth between your legs again. 

“lemme clean you up, pet,” he whispers, tongue already on your thigh, “been so good to me today, let me clean you up. then you can sleep.”

you’re fairly certain you give him a nod, writhing under him as matty proceeds to clean between your legs with his mouth, both yours and his release now coating his tongue. but you hiss in pain when his tongue makes contact with your clit again. your eyes well up. this time, they’re not tears of pleasure.  

you gather up all your strength or whatever’s left of it to clench your thighs shut. “yellow, matty, please… please.”

in an instant, he moves away, shushing you while stroking your head. “it’s done, baby, no more. i promise.” 

his voice sounds firm and you have a vague memory of the feeling of a wet cloth between your legs some time later. all you know is he’s there, pressing a glass of cold water to your lips, urging you to drink from it. all you remember is him ringing up room service to order some food. and then the feeling of being pulled into someone’s arms. 

lemme know what you think <33

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[justanamesstuff]

Unrequited love at the studio - Matty Healy

A/N: It's funny how I don't plan writing the blurbs, but suddenly I feel the urge to post...hope you like it! ♥

Word count: 1.3 k

Warnings: swearing, typos.

Blog masterlist

She could listen to them bicker about the song they had been working on for hours. Matty and George were starting to get impatient with the process, partially why she left to brought food and coffee for them. A simple gesture to lift the mood a little. 

“This is not working.” Matty started to complain.

“It has to.”

“George…”

“Yeah?” 

Y/n stood at the studio door, looking at the pair. If they noticed she was there, they didn’t acknowledge her presence. Their faces close –way too close– to the computer. The program they used was impossible to understand for her. She admired their talent beyond words.

Matty sneaked a hand around George’s arms, he pressed a button and the song started playing. Y/n thought for her insides that anyone would love it just like that, although she knew Matty –specially– and George worked hard to make every song a perfect one. 

“This…is shit!” Matty screamed, projecting himself backwards in the chair. 

George ignored his comment. “It’s not…I can push this back-” he tried to explain, but Matty was in a difficult mood that day. 

“And it will be shit-” he concluded, bugging George. 

He glanced at the frontman, saying in a calm tone,  “Take the stick out of your ass, mate!”

Y/n decided it was the moment to interrupt before things escalate between the boys. 

“Hey, hey, hey…what’s going on, guys?” she entered the room, lifting the food in her hands.

“Fuckin’ finally, you’re here. He’s being an-” George lift his big hands on a praying sign, turning to look at her. 

Matty listen carefully to every word G was saying to fought back, interrupting his friend saying, “Georgie boy is not listening to me!” he protested like a little child.

George had his good share of Matty for not only a day, for an entire week. Since Y/n was here, knowing her words had more impact on Matty than him, decided it was the moment to take a break. 

G lift his slender body from his chair, without sparing a glance at Matty. “I’m going for a smoke. Good luck!” he wished her, leaving a sweet kiss on the top of her head.

Once they were alone, Y/n approached the man in question. She reached for his shoulders, massing them slightly. The tension on his body was palpable for her. 

“Okay, big baby…what’s going on, mhm?” she inquired him. 

Matty let him body relax, leaning back on her touch. 

“Nothin’ is going on, darlin’.” he lied, closing his eyes. Off course, she knew better than to believe his little white lie.

“Okay.” Y/n stopped massaging Matty, going to plop down onto the couch. Matty felt the loss of touch, turning on the swivel chair to look at her. 

Matty groaned loud. “Don’t ‘okay’ me.” 

Y/n smiled wide, reaching for her coffee cup. “Okay.” she mumbled, taking a big sip.

Matty waited for her to keep asking, she didn’t. Y/n stayed in silence, watching every one of his movements.

“Agh!” Matty whined, joining her on the couch. He started talking even though Y/n kept her mouth shut. “I haven’t slept…George is not really hearing what I’m saying…” he wobbled from side to side, finally resting his head down on her lap. Matty reached for her hand, leaving it on his head. 

Y/n answered his silent request, running her hands through his hair. She was accustomed to finding herself in that position with Matty. The action calmed his nerves better than anything else. 

“Why you didn’t sleep?” Y/n asked him softly. 

“I can’t stop thinking about this stupid tune.” he rubbed his face on the fabric of her trousers. 

It couldn’t be only that. “What else?”

“Nothin’ else.” Matty murmured. 

Y/n decided to went with his lie, don’t push him when he wasn’t ready to talk. “Mhm, sure.” she let out, both of them falling into a comfortable silence. Y/n continued touching his hair. 

“Where were you last night?” Matty asked out of the blue, startling Y/n a little.

“Why? I’m suspect for a murder or something?” she tried to joke, trying to get a look of his face. Matty kept his eyes closed, enjoying her touch once more. 

“Maybe.”

“Well, in that case…I was out.”

“With whom?”

Y/n was aware she could talk about anything with him. “Lana got cheated on by her boyfriend- Well, now ex. Why?” 

“That sucks…” Matty felt bad for even asking.

“Yeah, she’s not doing great right now.” she shared, watching friends suffer it was another kind of pain. 

“I like Lana, she’s great…feelin’ sorry for her.” Matty kept the conversation going. 

Y/n felt intrigued about his questions. “Now you know where I was.” she stated. 

“Yes.”

“Why you asked?”

“Never mind.” Matty was ashamed, embarrassed to express his true worries from the night before. 

“Matty-”

“It’s stupid.” he said, turning so he could look up at her face.

“Just tell me.”

‘Fuck it’, Matty thought. “You mentioned John the other day- You were ignoring my texts, you never do that-”

Y/n couldn’t help to burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Matty, baby, you were feeling needy?” she teased him. 

He tried to act up as if her calling him ‘baby’ didn’t affect him. “Forgetit.” he chocked into his words. 

After a brief pause, Y/n instructed him, “Get up.” He groaned, lifting his tired body. He went to returned to the chair when Y/n took his hand. 

She was laying down on the couch, using all the space to lay down comfortably, “Come here, you need sleep.”

“I have to work…” Matty tried to protest, but the bags under his eyes convinced Y/n to keep trying. 

“A nap is self caring sometimes, George is going to understand.”

“Fine.”

“Come here.” she invited him, opening her arms. 

Matty looked at her, still standing, wondering, “Can I use my favourite pillow?” he wiggled his eyebrows to her chest.

“You nasty!” 

“Please?” he asked, showing her his underlip, making puppy eyes at her. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Fine.” she allowed him. “Come on, baby boy!”

Matty scoffed at her nickname, “I’m a man.” he said, resting his head on her chest. 

“Yeah, sure.”

Y/n’s hands returned to his head, while Matty breath started to calmed down. He closed his eyes. Matty didn’t hold a moan this time to scape his mouth.

After only 5 minutes, Matty was soundly asleep when George returned to the studio. Matty's snoring welcomed him. 

George pointed at his friend body on top of Y/n’s. “What is he doing?”

“Shhh!” 

“Fuckin’ ell’”

“Let him sleep, please!” Y/n begged.  

George shook his head, returning to move bits around on the computer. Y/n looked at the back of his head. 

“You are way too good for him.” G said, breaking the silence. 

Y/n blushed. She was thankful Matty was asleep and G wasn’t looking at her. “‘m not.”

“Are you ever going to tell him?” 

“What do you mean?” Y/n felt exposed.

George chuckled. “Don’t play dumb with me…” he warned her. 

Y/n gave it a real thought. “No.” she finally stated. 

“You have high chances…” G suggestively told her. Y/n’s heart fluttered. 

She didn’t have a chance or even hope with Matty. Y/n was her friend and friend only. “I don’t…he has a line of girls-”

G interrupted her, “He keeps choosing you-” 

“George, shut up, please.” Y/n couldn’t go there exactly when Matty was resting on top of her body, when he was so close and yet too far. 

G let her be. “Okay…10 more minutes, and I’m waking up sleeping beauty.” he informed her with an even noise, which made her laughed. 

The vibration made Matty pushed his face further into her chest. “With a kiss?” Y/n asked George. 

“Off course.” 

Part 2

[the1975attheirverybest]

A/N: smut.

Warnings: smut.

***

She rested her back against the door, delicately, to nudge it to a close, reaching behind her to turn the key in the lock and listen for a ‘click’ sound. She kept her eyes glued to Matty’s chest. It was easy to get lost in the way that his tattoos, framed on either side by his loosely draped, unbuttoned shirt, glistened it with sweat. His taut muscles came in and out of focus every time that he took a drag on his cigarette. She didn’t want to disturb him. She knew he must be tired. Besides, he looked so tranquil. Zoned out, almost perfectly still, if it weren’t for his smoking. But they’ve been together long enough for her to know that, despite the deceptively calm demeanor, his mind was racing right now. Matty had a certain wind-down ritual that helped him to process the utter madness of the show and bring him back down to reality as he prepared to leave the venue behind, shed the layers that he’d wrapped and twisted around himself for the sake of the performance, and return to himself every night. Most of it occurred in silence. It made sense. Things were often loud inside his head, ears still buzzing with the cheering crowds and the music, the quiet helped to balance things out.

But what about the audience? The thing about participating in a show like that is that you don’t get to bear witness to it without it leaving its mark on you, as well. Nobody has ever walked into a live show (certainly not a 1975 show) and walked out the same person. It might be the case that he’s the one who has to fling himself head first into the madness, sing his heart out, create the energy that would sustain the entire venue for the whole night, but, if he did his job right, that usually meant that the audience would be transformed by his presence, too. And, tonight, she felt it in her bones.

She meandered over to his backpack, which sat in his makeup chair, and prepared his joint for him, delivering it to him where he sat in the leather couch, the last of his cigarette still in between his lips. She stood in the space between his wide spread knees, slowly taking the cigarette butt from his mouth. He hummed, a noise she knew him well enough to know that he intended as a ‘thank you,’ and loosened his lips, letting her handle the rest. She fished the lighter out of his limp hand and lit the joint for him. He smoked, eyes droopy, looking up at her as he accepted her help.

She ran her freshly sharpened nails through his hair, smiling down at him. “You look perfect.” She whispered as if sharing a secret only meant for his ears. “You were perfect tonight.”

The joint slowly dangled from the corner of his mouth as he smiled. “Yeah? I was, wasn’t I?”

“Did you have fun? You looked like you were having fun. I’m sure you felt how well it was all going.” This new haircut made running her hands through his hair much smoother, free of resistance. He liked that he could feel her nails scratching at his scalp.

“Mhm.” He blinked his long, pretty lashes at her. Lazily, his hand reached over and pulled the joint out of his mouth so he could speak more fully. “Great crowd. That’s always a good time.”

“Yeah. People have definitely missed you.” She mused.

“We’ve missed them.”

She giggled, a bit too much, perhaps. “Yeah, mhm. Of course.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He brought the joint back to his lips.

“It’s just….you were really feeling yourself up there, weren’t you? It’s kinda hot, actually.”

He grinned mischievously, “no idea what you’re even talking about.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I bet you don’t.” Her hands took hold of his face, leaning down to kiss him, the taste of weed on his lips. “Bet your hips do, though.” She whispered, sitting down on one of his thighs and reaching for another kiss, her hands wrapped around his neck this time. “Your hands….your shoulders…”

His eyes stared into hers with desire, “I’m completely innocent. No clue what you’re on about.” He spoke softly.

“Oh, yeah?” Her lips moved past his, down to his jawline, where she began to place a string of kisses. “Let me remind you, then.” Her lips ghosted over his skin as they slid down to his neck, kissing, licking his salty sweat, biting and sucking on his skin.

Matty’s jaw fell slack, he quickly removed the remainder of his joint from his mouth, moaning as his eyes closed.

When she was satisfied that she’d left, what would no doubt remain a visible hickey on his neck for days to come, her lips moved lower, and lower, gradually kissing down his chest, lingering at his tattoos every once in a while, grazing his nipples with her teeth until she felt his hips buck up, listening to him moan out her name desperately.

The remaining scent of his cologne mixed with smoke, sweat, and her desire for him was a heady cocktail. She needed him badly. As she kissed just under his belly button, Matty’s waist was no longer touching the couch. He whined and gasped for her. “Please- please, baby, oh- please?”

Silent, with a confident smile on her face, she unbuckled his belt, watching him relax at the slight relief of pressure that the loosened waistline of his pants had give him. She moved off of him, crouching down on the floor between his legs.

With considerable difficulty, Matty’s eyes peer open. He made a vague unintelligible noise.

“What was that, honey?” She looked up at him.

“Knees. Your knees.” He mumbled.

She chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry about that right now.”

Her hands effortlessly pulled down his pants, and then his underwear. But Matty was nothing if not stubborn. She watched him toss the end of the joint to the floor, and she instantly stepped on it to put it out while his extended arm reached for the other end of the couch, grabbing a throw pillow.

“For your knees.”

She set the pillow underneath her, the instant difference that it made to her comfort warmed her heart. “This is why you deserve what I’m about to do for you.” She whispered before wrapped her hand around the base of his hardened cock, taking him in her mouth bit by bit.

Matty moaned, his head falling backwards. “OH- my.…fuckkkk.”

She couldn’t help but smile around him. The filthy sounds she’d coaxed out of him were a huge boost to her ego. Especially after a night like tonight when he’d strained his vocals performing for thousands of people. Listening to his muted, hoarse moaning and whining was better than a thousand songs.

His stomach muscles tightened, he bit his lower lip, swallowing a scream when he felt her tongue swirl around his sensitive tip. He reached his hand forth and stroked her cheek as she hollowed out her mouth sucking on him with a mission to push him to get louder and louder.

“Fuckin Christ!” She felt his hand shake against her cheek, eventually falling away from her face as he went limp. “B-baby that’s- p- per-fect. Oh! Angel, please- ummm. W-wait. C-could I-“ though his own cries of pleasure interrupted him, the veins of his neck bulging as he strained against the couch, she knew what he was asking for, and she nodded.

“Please- want- to feel you. Need it.”

She helped pull his condom out of his pocket and watched impatiently as he fiddled with, and opened the packet.

“Ready?” She asked him, but she might as well have been asking herself. After all, this is the moment that had plagued her thoughts since he’d walked on to the stage nearly two hours ago.

He kept his hand in hers after helping her off the floor and onto his lap, squeezing his fingers around hers every time that he felt her clench around him.

“You feel s-so good.” He whispered, kissing her forehead.

The burning desire that had emboldened her so far was now too overpowering. She was seconds away from falling apart, no longer able to think of just the right thing to say to drive him crazy, she chanted his name, over and over, as she rocked her hips into his, moaning and crying out when she felt him hit just the right spot.

“Matty, I- I’m so-“

Silently, he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his strong arms tightly around her. “That feel good, my love? Do I make you feel so good?”

“Mhm….Yeah.” She nodded, reaching desperately for his face, she kissed him with a little too much force, the slight edge to her touch, tipping him over.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, honey. You close? You wanna cum for me?”

She nodded, planing her hands on the sides of his chest and thrusting into him to a persistent, unyielding rhythm. She began to moan and mumbled, but her body had already told him what her lips had failed to expressed. He knew what she meant to say. “Go on, my love, let go.”

Her release quickly brought about his own, feeling her cunt squeeze and gush around him was all he needed to bust. She felt his legs shake underneath her, his head buried in the cleavage of her chest as he moaned and repeatedly told her how much he loved her, the strong arms that held her tightly to him, loosening every so slightly as his body surrendered to pleasure.

They remained still, breathing together, their bodies resting against one another. His lips lazily kissing he skin, her fingers playing with his buzzed hair and scratching his head. A feeling that she knew relaxed him. She felt his smile spreading slowly against the skin of her chest, his lashes tickled her as his eyes closed.

“I love you.” He mumbled, sleepily. “I love you, so, so much.”

[noacfapologyst]

birthday wish - matty healy

(the birthday party; day one)

summary: matty, as his very best, has one of the best birthdays of his life and receives one of the warmest surprises he has ever had, with all the people he loves.

warnings: flufly stuff, sickness mentions. nothing more than this, is tender as well.

a/n: thank to @abiiors and @the1975attheirverybest for organize this incredible project! both are such an angels. the dates do not coincide in reality, so do not expect truthfulness in it, 'cause the tour continues in this universe and there are no haircuts, and also the english is not my first language.

wordcounter: 5,1k

Matty wants you to be with him at the exact time when the clock strikes midnight. It doesn't matter if you're an ocean away, just wait to hear you sing her happy birthday.

He knows that even if he wants you to, you can't come out the door. This shouldn't make him sad because it's something he's been facing for years.

You work for the UK's most influential finance company, and while the insistence on doing the work outside has been almost unbearable, Matty knows that you love being in your office or doing the work in the house where you both live together. God, that sounds good.

Officially he's a year older, and without wanting to touch sentimentality, he just feels tired when he rests his head on the white pillow in the hotel room. He doesn't look at his phone screen for a long time, just think about how you're going through the flu that kept you from coming with him to New York.

In the meantime, you have other plans that doesn't involve fever, soup, and phlegm.

You look at your phone screen, you know it's past 12 in New York, so Matty is oficially 35 years old.

It's four in the morning in England, and once again you confirm how much you hate such an abysmal difference in schedules. You could call him now and tell him you still have the flu, but he'd end up figuring out the trick.

Maybe when it's six o'clock in the morning you can greet him with more credibility.

For now, you finish arranging the house and the final touches before taking the suitcase as you sigh out of the house.

--

"Honeeeeeeeeey" Matty literally jumps into bed making them both jump. You rub your forehead and he gives you an innocent smile. It's not an argument at all, but he's gone dumb. "Come on, fly with me to York.

"Matty, I can't." You straighten up on the mattress, giving it room to rest its head on your trunk. "I would love to go, but it's impossible." You wrap your fingers around her hair and massage it into circles. You hear him purr like he's been waiting for him all day. "I have a lot of work, we have like fifty new clients or something like that. I can't apart myself from the company, i really sorry."

"I'm not saying you get apart, you still can work through your computer." He turns to see you with a pretty sad look in his features. "I don't want to be annoying, it's just…it will be my birthday. The first with you as my girlfriend."

"Hey, i can't even say how much i'm sorry, but i really do." You grab his right hand and squeeze his, on your way to kiss his head a desperate fit of coughing interrupts you. "Shit, I'm ill."

It doesn't sound so convincing, but if all goes well, an idea begins to form in your head that might consecrate you as bride of the year.

"But hey, babe, I'm going to reward you when you return. I promise." You see him unravel at your touch, watching him as he indulges in sleep. While he is awake closing his eyes, you whisper into his ear. "You're going to have an incredible birthday, Matty."

- - -

Even though spring has been running through London for over a month, the dawn suddenly turns cold. Not only because you got sick in the course of two days, (even if you did it on purpose and forced yourself to sneeze around the corners), but also because everything feels a little tense in your room. Matty's not mad, obviously he knows he can't get you out of the country in the middle of a flu outbreak let alone by force, but he's pretty sad about getting used to the idea of spending his birthday away from you. It's satirical to him, they've officially been together for nine months, but you've spent more birthdays near him than it looks. By chance or fate, they were always in the same bars or pubs where they celebrated their years of life.

What's ironic, too, is that they met after a financial argument. It was 2017, you were relatively new to the company and Dirty Hit needed a safe backing, betting on the company you still work for. At first there were no complaints, until a money leak was triggered and backing the company you basically went to the studio to talk to Jamie in pretty strong terms.

In the end, there were no dead to bury, everything worked out. What you did bury was your washing soap shirt, thanks to Matty literally spilled his coffee machine on you when you were about to leave. It wasn't a good day for anyone, your folders just fell off and picking them up you bumped into Matty, in a semi-sleeping state with coffee running over your skin and a cheap apology as he opened his eyes surprised enough. Then it just happened for some reason, they both found fun in the same places. It was too many years of seeing each other at nightclubs maybe four times a year, saying hello from afar and going on, until a year and a few months ago they needed an insurance upgrade, which gave you another visit to Dirty Hit, no spilled coffee this time.

Matty asked for your number, then he bought you a drink, and here they are, saying goodbye to each other.

"Hey listen, call my mom if you feel bad or if you need something. At least promise me this." Kiss your head as they both walk towards the front door, you wrapped in a blanket and him between bags and suitcases.

"I'll do." You reassure him with a broad smile. "Stay safe, love you."

"See you soon, love." You and him kiss quickly as he presses his thumb on your cheek. "Love you, too."

"Matty."

"¿Yes"

"You're forgetting something, dude." You unlock your chain with a small white stone hanging, to lock it around her neck later. "Now it's okay." You steal a hug and when they finally part, the taxi comes to the door. "Bye."

"Bye." He greets you with hishand and throws the first accessory he has at hand, his bracelet.

You hate to say goodbye to him when he goes to the airport, and even though you'll see him in two days, you still hate him. You're so used to waking up with him, having its scent all over the house, that when that bubble disappears, you hate what it's created at some point. It hasn't been five minutes and you miss him like you haven't seen him in months.

You squeeze his bracelet. It's their little tradition. Every time one goes on a journey, both exchange accessories in a way to show the other that they are still there even at a distance. You don't remember when it started, but you like the sentimentality of the issue.

Now, of course Matty's right: you'll call Denise. You already have, actually. She's aware of all the deception and she's the one who's most excited about it. He talked to Tom and Louis while you talked to Adam, because he's the least likely to reveal it to your boyfriend. It's not that you don't trust others, it's just that he's wiser for this.

- - -

You touch your head down because actually if you feel sick, maybe you've been too extreme, but you hope it's worth it. Denise calls on your portal with the car horn pulling you out of the trance, you get in the car and when you want to say something else you just fall asleep in the backseat.

Half an hour later, she wakes you up gently rocking you. She's so much like Matty you could cry, you love everything her family is and how you've been treated from the first day you walked through that door. Even if she's your mother-in-law, they get along incredibly well considering how fast they've connected.

"Are you sure about this?" She asks, handing over the car keys and lowering the suitcases from the trunk. "I mean, you look really tired."

"I know, I know. I spend the day thinking if i had everything, and thinking about the gift, and trying to organize the things with Adam, meanwhile i tried to not being colapsed by the numbers." The two laugh, she looks at you with a more relaxed expression and just lets her walls fall down.

"Matty is so lucky to have you." She murmurs with bright eyes and genuine happiness. "I don't know if I've ever met someone capable of getting sick just for surpise his boyfriend in his birthday…on the other side of the world." You think she's about to get emocional when her eyes start stinging, and she notices it. "I get a bit emotional but you know, my son is growing up next to someone who truly loves him, and as a mother you don't know how important it is to know that."

Well, now you'll cry.

"Oh god, I love you Denise." You drop your bags and embrace her with the greatest affection you've ever had. "I'll might cry."

She laughs tenderly. "Keep the tears for the show, darling."

----

The belief that it would be a seven-hour flight (plus the check-in hours, obviously) that would be somewhat exhausting and that it would take time to pass becomes part lie and part truth. You actually have a lot of fun with Denise telling you anecdotes of her life in the span of waiting time to board, you can't lie, but then on the plane you start to get bored after a few hours: you've seen a movie, you've slept, you've saturated your Spotify and you only think about how Matty will be. You feel guilty about the birthday message because you know he'll be worried thinking that something is up, but later you'll ask for forgiveness.

Happy birthdayy Matty. I love you so much, i hope you ́ll always be happy.

This is too short, but i feel totally sick. I'll send you a large text later.

Matty tosses and turns in bed heavily after waking up with that message as his first course. He sighs as he goes to the bathroom, looks at himself in the mirror running a hand through his hair. It feels terrible.

Well, you haven't forgotten his birthday, but he feels that you have. Maybe it's not that.

He knows you don't like him smoking too much, but you're not here and it's the only thing keeping him sane so he doesn't yell at you if he's done something wrong. He opens the window and collapses on the balcony floor, a cigarette between his lips. He exhales, he can't believe he's spending the time like that on his birthday.

He feels like he has a dagger stuck somewhere in his body, he feels tense and knows he's not in the bliss mode that someone should have on their birthday. But God, he hates to blame himself and blame you for things.

You've been weird for days, and yes, maybe you're sick, but in the months you´ve been with him you've never been this weird. Overthinking things isn't something he likes or does too much, but now he's debating whether something has happened and you don't want to tell him. He exhales again and relapses into the state of his cuticles, but as a cumpulsive reflex he bites them. Has he done something wrong? Has he crossed any limits? Did you get angry about something he didn't do? Did he forgot your birthday? No, he hasn't forgotten that.

Trata de no permitirse pensar en la pregunta más dolorosa para él: ¿Hay alguien más? ¿Estás cansado de él y de su vida de poca estabilidad? Bueno, en cualquier caso te merecerías algo mejor.

Adam knocks on the door as an answer to problems. He knows he has to take care of him until you make your appearance, but everyone is aware that he may not be in his best mood.

"Hey, birthday boy, how did you wake up?" When Matty opens the door, he hugs him and Adam knows his best friend needs him. "Matty, tell me."

"It's just…No, it's a silly thing." He regrets it fluttering his eyes, but collapses on the bed tiredly. "I'm tired, that's all."

"No, it's not. Something is affecting you, so definitely there is something more than being tired. You dońt have to fake it with me, you know." Adam knows the reason why he is like this, and although he wants to tell him that she's really on her way, he can't.

"It's her, Adam. She ́s been in a distant mode for days, acting strange." He shrugs, Adam sits on the other end of the mattress, sinking it. "Her greeting was a bit cold, or too generic. It's not typycal for her.

Adam feels really bad lying to his friend, he feels like a traitor, and he really struggles to find the right words. "Didn't you tell me she was sick?" He asks, and Matty sighs, nodding. "Should be this."

"yes, but.."

"Listen to me, really." Adam cuts him off and thinks about how much he can take this like this, he can't allow his partner to collapse before the show, much less the surprise. "She loves you, i d on't know the reason for his behavior and I would love to know so I can tell you, but unfortunately I don't know." Guilty, liar. "Despite that, you just turned 35, it's too early for the midlife crisis for a congratulation. The day is not over yet

Matty slurps as he swallows without the strength to continue the conversation, not in this tone at least. He doesn't have any argument to play in his favor and that makes him a little angry.

"You have a birthday show tonight, it will be nice."

- - -

Madison Square Garden will never cease to amaze you and seem practically huge. You do not manage to make the connection between the measures of the venue, it seems much bigger than it is. You have entered more than once, both as a spectator of shows or as you are now, as an accompanist of the band that presents on the day, and still it leaves you breathless how massive it is. Not in your best dreams would you imagine having the chance to tour it.

But, what makes you more sensitive is to hear so many people divided into the branches and sections of the seats and the standing field cheering, shouting and even crying with a euphoric amount of adrenaline in the body by the celestial and pink lights that illuminate the stage, decorated in its scenography representing a house with all the rooms. It's still hard for you to believe that you're dating the lead singer of a band that has mobilized so many people around the world for years. They have come to see the four of them, they have come to hear what is the story they have to tell and to show them their affection and loyalty as they identify themselves in tears in the four chords of their best songs.

In a way you think that's everything a singer expects, and that by the same token, it's the most sincere reason for the fans in front of Matty's birthday. Because even though you don't spend too much time on the floor, you manage to see posters related to her birthday.

The whole Healy family, followed by you, take refuge in George and Adam's dressing rooms, because even if you came out of a cake in Matty's dressing room when the delivery changes, you'd lose the idea you planned. Now, you just hope Matty doesn't find it weird enough that they switched The Birthday Party to Act 3, and Guys is almost after. I wouldn't have to do that, in fact, since it's a pretty emotional and pretty setlist to play on your birthday.

When Matty's nightmare act ends and he descends from the second stage you try to make as little noise as possible next to his dressing room, mainly because you're going to scare him. The one you're scaring is George, but he's covering it up by saying there was a spider in his dressing room. Then with a thumb sign him shows that everything is ready for the next step. When the act of Still at their very best (the last of the show) begins with If you ́re too shy, you get ready, two songs later you have to get the whole audience to see you, but not Matty.

Then, It ́s not living reaches the middle with a consecrated closure between the drums and the guitar. Cheers fill the place. The action then begins when all the screens change focus and signs appear saying that, in front of the people you will see now, keep quiet because it is a surprise for both Matty and the fans. There are confused looks, intertwined, nobody understands anything but they keep singing so as not to show that the screens have changed again.

The crowd wants to go crazy, and some screams escape when it's you who's seen go behind the scenes. For the sake of greater care, you go behind George's drums and ask everyone with your fingers to be silent on the subject. You sit behind the biggest drum and you see it over your head.

There he is, dressed up in his black pants, his white shirt and previously the suit jacket with the pants. His tie's almost untied, and it makes you laugh, you don't think he knows he tied it wrong. The curls fall in front of him out of control due to tiredness and sweat, but you think he's never looked better in years.

"Thanks for coming to see the greatest band in the world, the 1975!" The sticks resonate on the drum, the play of grey lights makes everything a little psychedelic. The crowd bursts into cheers without differentiating the why. "And today it's my birthday, so thank you for coming here. I love you guys."

There's a mixture of exasperated emotions all over the compound. Even you have glassy eyes to see him smile in such a pure way, his place has always been and always will be the stage in front of the fans, when he is freer than ever and where he feels comfortable. This particular show is not just important because of this event, but because in fact, it's the end of the tour. It's emotionally sad, the melancholy is reciprocal in the stadium because nobody knows when there will be a new tour of them.

"Yeah, I know, this is sad. It ́s ironic that my birthday will be the last show of the tour." He grins and laughs showing his teeth to the audience. "But, thanks for being here, is my biggest gift."

So, Matty freaks out when he hears a noise behind him.

"And it's not over yet, friend of mine." Absolutely everyone is surprised to hear George through the microphone resonating in the stadium, Matty doesn't understand what's going on either. "Ladies and gentleman, please everybody look at the screen."

What happens next is the best and the worst that Matty has had in front of him, cataloging it as the worst because when pictures of him appear when he was little with his mother and father, playing guitar or just being a kid, it makes him wiggle and feel like he could really die right there from the excitement. Without looking away, dazzled and uncertain but motivated to keep seeing him, he sits on the edge of the stage.

The atmosphere is automatically warm, but even the noise does not break it. The screen now changes, and begins with a greeting from George, pointing to a picture of when they were 13, how they have grown up so far and how you can't imagine a life without him, then closes Charly telling how much she enjoys talking to him, and how much fun he is in any situation. Then comes Adam, along with Carly, telling how he is the youngest of the group, but how important he is for both of them in their lives. Finally there is Ross, who talks about how fortunate he is to have him as a friend, how proud he is of everything he has accomplished and how much he appreciates his friendship.

Screen in black. Matty takes care of the tears because he suspects it doesn't end there, but his eyes turn to candy, all his factions calm down and he refrains from leaping into the arms of his friends.

You can't tell how many, but suddenly fans appear in the video, talking about how they've saved their lives through the band, the refuge it's for them and how much the band has done in terms of connecting them with their closest friends, and giving them a reason to keep fighting. Everyone laughs when they hear the reactions of the fans appearing in the video, realizing it.

Now yes, everything seems to indicate that it's over. Matty tries to stand up, but something stops him.

Her mother. On the screen.

Satirically, her greeting begins by asking if she thought they had forgotten about her, but without giving any room to react, Louis and Tom appear on the screen, their entire family in one place.

Really, Matty feels like the luckiest person in the world to have so much affection around him, he doesn't know if he deserves it, but he accepts it and feels like the feeling of familiarity and brotherhood envelops his body as his brother and his parents talk about how he's changed everyone's lives, the support he's been in his brother's life, and how the little boy who played the guitar off-tune at four o'clock in the afternoon has become a man made and upright, able to love and defend his people, with a exemplary talent.

Matty blinks, doesn't know how to go on now. He simply knows that he cannot ask for anything else for his life, he is loved by those he loves, and is reciprocated.

The screen lights up for the last time. You and Mayhem.

You look the at George, who cries just like you. He notices your gaze but responds only with a quick smile.

"Hey, honey, this will be short because I hope you know how happy I am to have you in my life." Matty stops controlling the tears, bathes in them, his shirt is full of water right now. So he remembers your message today, and he knows that you were behind all this, no one else would have done it this way otherwise. He sees his dog move his front legs and really misses him: "Happy birthday, I love you more than my words can prove. Thank you for being the most amazing, sweetest human being I've ever met. You're an angel and I love to agree with you." The greeting ends when you send a kiss to the camera, followed by Mayhem's osico in the foreground with a heart, with an M drawn.

The legend of The End stands on top. Everyone has cried, the makeup has gone off but this is the most intimate thing that everyone has experienced today. Everybody's grateful for coming to celebrate Matty.

"Could you please close your eyes?" Adam asks, and Matty is not the one who could say no.

Matty continues sitting, not moving. He can't process everything his head is telling him miles per second. He knows that he can't speak well enough after crying and will only say silly phrases, But it has to. Ross comes to his rescue and has a hand to lift him up. They hug with Matty crying on his shoulder while continuing to repeat that she loves him. Ross pats him on the back and points to Adam on the microphone.

He smells something as smoke, and he's right. Behind the scenes of the three entrances appear his mother, his father and Louis beside him with a rectangular cake with porcelain figures of the little house, and the four figures of the band, with a 35 as a candle.

Ross lets Matty go, and when the distance is unbearable, you're the one who runs to grab his hands when everyone screams to open his eyes. He opens them and finds you embraced to his body more tightly than ever. By inertia, he tightens the grip on your waist without ceasing to hug you. Now neither of us knows who to blame for the water running down the Briton's white shirt.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." You whisper incessantly, as he stabilizes in front of you, trying to get out of the surprise and accepting that you're actually in front of him, it's not a dream, he looks at the cake and cries again. He watches the audience feeling their heart pouring out into their hands. "Happy everything, my love."

He pulls you away from the grip when the birthday song rings out and has the cake in front of him without realizing it, but holds your hand in his fist. He coins it, and he protects it inside him. His smile is sadly short, but he has never had a greater look of genuine love on him than now. His wet eyelids, his face full of dry tears and his eyes glowing like never before. All thanks to you. He looks back at the cake and makes a face of utter surprise when he sees his figure made of porcelain sitting on the piano.

"Hey, that's me!" He's chirping like he's a kid who just ate a paddle he's seen in the store. Its essence is discovered there, that immeasurable happiness that creeps through all present.

He couldn't even think about how much he loves you because everything happens too fast, but he knows that after this he could never leave you. He doesn't know it yet, but this is the moment when Matty would close everything else. After this he would decide that you would be the woman of his life, that he would marry you and that they would have a family. You just kind of signed a sentence saying that he would never let anything happen to you and that if he had to lay down his life for you, he would.

George, Adam and Ross approach Matty as well, along with Polly, John and the rest of the band, all standing in a semicircle in front of the stage. The fire lights up Matty's face who has refused to block the touch of you two. You literally have to whisper his name in his face with a silly smile so he'll let you go and be the only one in the middle of the round.

The flashes of the phones illuminate the scene, there is the same chorus symphony composed of dozens of voices that work at the same time without prior coordination. No, it's not a movie and it's not a dream that someone's going to wake up from, it's really happening.

The fire dissipates, again the sound of clashing palms comforts the place. Denise leaves the cake on the piano and hurls herself at her son. She loves him so much, and is so happy that he can be really happy being who he is. The sequence is quite fast, his family hugs him, then the four hug and the difference in height is noticeable between the four males. Then goes Polly, Jhon and everyone else who's there. The show is delayed for the same reason, but nobody really cares about sacrificing a song to be part of this moment.

He opens his arms towards you and makes you fly through the air for a second before giving you his best Chesire Cat smile. Seize the moment to steal a quick kiss leaving behind the expanse of euphoria that surrounds them. For Matty there really is nothing else right now than him and you on the whole ethereal plane he's met at the age of 35. Fans disappear, the band and their parents too, as long as it merges into you in touch can only feel how they function the same way, being really a single soul trapped between two bodies. God, he's lovesick of the love he has for you, and he could throw it up right now, but surely all he could do is throw up his heart.

The contact ends, and finally he approaches the microphone.

"I really have the greatest persons and the greatest fans in the world. I ́m incredibly glad about it." He runs his hand through his hair and laughs, shedding his last tears. "Saying thanks it wouln ́t be enough, and I could never finish thanking you for all this, but i love each and every one of you, honestly."

Matty grabs his acoustic guitar almost the second he says that. The chords of The birthday party are heard. Everything is extremely special about this song and it is something narrow and deep, there is a truth to count on the song at this moment so charged with sentimentality.

Matty has spent years of his lost life without having a reason to keep him going, floating around while surviving, or trying to. He has come and gone as far as anyone could imagine, has suffered perhaps too much to expose his vulnerability. Indeed, he felt lost in hell during the most unbearably difficult years of his life. He's driven so many people away by his personality and by neglecting so many ties, but now he knows.

He has alienated so many people by his personality and by neglecting so many ties, but now he knows that although he may be late for some, he has enough with him. All your friends are here, in the same scene, no matter what that means.

The following of Guys in a much calmer tone makes everyone end up crying, their most personal song as a band. Matty feels the same as before, his friends have been the best thing that's ever happened to him, and they've saved his life thousands and thousands of times. He could not get used to the idea of lose them, because he would crumble without them in his life.

Just like he would do without you.

In the end, Matty makes fun of himself for being so bitter all day. He really had the best birthday of his entire life.

in my head this is a tender idea of ​​how much I would give way to see matty happy, so I hope that was achieved. also, happy birthday weekend matty you are the best.

let me know what you think, also let me know if you want to be on my tag list <3

[brnesblogposts]

Loving you is the best thing i’ve ever done.

(repost)

pairing: matty healy x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, mental health ?

reblogs appreciated if you liked it :)

Staring at the ceiling, a million thoughts going through your head at once. Trying so hard to keep the tears from falling but the overthinking caught up to you as quiet sobs escaped your lips, trying to keep quiet as to not wake up the peaceful looking man beside you.

Your brain had yet again convinced you that you didn’t deserve love, that everyone was pretending to like you but in reality was repulsed by you. This kind of spiral hadn’t happened in awhile but it creeped up on you tonight and all you could do was ride it through and hope you felt better in the morning.

He started to stir beside you while you held your breath hoping you hadn’t woke him, being a burden to him as he was finally getting a good nights sleep is not what you wanted to do. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to stop the tears when you felt a hand push hair out of your face.

“Baby?” his soft voice broke the silence, “what’s wrong, darling?” he asked while looking at you with concern.

“I’m sorry, i’m so sorry” you repeated as you held your palms over your face. You climbed out of bed and went to leave the bedroom before his voice stopped you,

“where are you going?” there was a sadness to it, but that was probably because you’d woken him up, he’s better off without you anyway.

“I’ll just sleep on the sofa, go back to sleep I won’t bother you anymore” and before you could leave the room he leaped out of bed and grabbed your arm, turning you around where you could see his eyes sparkling in the dim lighting.

“Talk to me, did I do something?” he asked and you felt horrible for making him think he was the cause of your outburst.

“No, no it’s my fault, i’m sorry I disturbed you, i’m sorry for everything” you rambled on.. “what do you mean?” he asked while his thumbs stroked your cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“I’m sorry for being a burden, I know i’m annoying and weird and you put up with me out of pity, you deserve someone better, someone not.. broken” your tears falling harder now.

“I’m sorry for the shit you’ve had to put up with, Matty. I’m fucked in the head” you wanted the ground to swallow you whole, you felt vulnerable and like a freak.

“Listen to me, hey” he tilted your head up to look him in the eyes, “You. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you are never and could never be a burden. you know more than anyone how much I hate sincerity but I can do it with you, because you are my person. I love you. Don’t let your brain convince you otherwise”

He pulled you into his chest and let you ball, at some point moving you both to sit on the bed. Matty was stroking your hair and shushing you in a reassuring manner, telling you it was gonna be okay, eventually the sound of your sobs died down and you pushed away from Matty’s chest to wipe a hand over your eyes and push your now damp hair behind your ears.

“Baby, I need you to know that whenever you’re having these thoughts you can talk to me, I never want you to feel like you’re going through it alone because you’re not.” He put his hands on your upper arms and reassured you, “We’re all a little bit fucked up in the head, it’s apart of the human experience, there’s gonna be bad days but the good ones outweigh them, you’re the funniest, most loving, accepting and caring person i know, not to mention smoking hot” at that you let out a little laugh.

“You’re stuck with me, I love you and all your quirks and even that silly little beautiful brain of yours” he kissed the top of your head and pulled you into his side,

“I’m trying so hard to believe you but my brain won’t let me” you replied.

“Well know I mean it, even if you don’t believe me, it’s true.” He motioned for you to move back over to your side and you did, he got back under the covers and held out his arm as you shuffled into his side.

“Try get some sleep, okay? I’m right here if you need me” another kiss to the crown of your head as he started mindlessly brushing his fingers through your hair.

“I love you” you mumbled as sleep started to take over,

“I know” is all you heard before you passed out listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat.