#matty x you

[abiiors]

everything is blue ✨ // matty healy x reader

a/n: nnn. that's it, that't the plot. gotta thank @theungracefulgrace for the idea, i hope i did it justice <3 cw: smut, thigh riding and matty is a bit pathetic in this lmao, maybe even subby??? is this my subby matty debut??? wc: 1.9k (smaller than i thought actually...)

“you two are disgusting,” george snickers from behind his drums as you make your way onto matty’s lap. 

it’s light-hearted and teasing—your friend taking the piss out of both of you but matty scoffs and you stick your tongue out.

“jealous,” you tease, “i’m going to wait until charli shows up and then we’ll talk.”

“yeah let’s talk then, mate,” matty quips from next to you and it only takes him another second to push his hands inside your t-shirt and place them on your bare stomach, almost caressing your ribs. 

it tickles and you squirm away, alerting george once more. 

“not going to start snogging in front of me, are you?” he turns around making an exaggerated vomiting gesture and scrunches his face at you. matty, almost predictably, takes that as a challenge. 

within moments, you feel his fingers lightly closing around your jaw, turning your face and capturing your lips in his. matty’s chest is pressed against your arm and his heartbeat echoes through your entire body, thrilling you to your very core when you feel the slight spike in it as your tongue grazes his bottom lip. his other arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer as matty deepens the kiss and hums in your mouth, sending vibrations through your entire body. in turn your heart skips a beat. you don’t break apart until you hear a loud cough in the vicinity. and george stares back at both of you, truly disgruntled now. 

“bleurgh,” he makes a face. “like i said, digusting.”

“and like she said,” matty snorts, “jealous.”

“simp!”

“idiot!”

“oh, very clever mate!”

“oh—”

“alright, that’s it!” you interrupt matty before he can retort any further and he glares at you in return. “you’re fighting like twelve year olds.”

matty smirks. “weren’t snogging me like—”

you clamp your hand over matty’s mouth before he can finish his vulgar sentence earning you two juvenile giggles—one slightly muffled by your hand. 

“you are like an animal,” george teases again, earning an expression of utter betrayal from matty. 

“how dare yo—”

“prove it then!” he challenges. his mouth curls into a smirk and your eyes narrow. you know this expression on george. you know he’s up to something. 

“we are in november,” he grins cheekily. “the month of chastity and all.”

“can it!” you warn but it’s too late. matty’s smirk already mirrors george’s. you can practically see the cogs turning in their heads and you know what’s about to happen. 

“a bet,” george shifts in his seat looking eager and devious. matty does the same, gently setting you off his lap and placing a quick apologetic kiss on your head when you protest. 

“a bet,” he repeats. 

and then with utter disgust, you watch the two men in front of you spit on their hands and shake on their deal.

at first it’s fun—watching him turn red and squirm every time you get out the shower with just a towel wrapped around you. a few times, you even see him immediately sit on his hands or busy himself in his phone, making you giggle. the few times after that, he leaves the room entirely—practically running away like a virgin catholic school boy. 

the first few days are okay, fun even. you send him a selfies—towel just high enough for your nipples to be covered, barely covering your ass, showing its curve very well with the way you pose; on your bed, wearing his t-shirt and only his t-shirt, hand buried suggestively between your thighs—matty threatens to block you, accusing you of wanting to make him lose. 

he kisses you like usual, though. that’s the one thing he can’t stop doing. if anything, it feels like his mouth is attached to yours any chance he gets. it’s like he’s compensating, even letting you straddle him and deepen it until he has to pull away with a pained expression.

“how would george know?!” you whine and watch him pout. 

“trust me, he would,” matty sighs, shoulders slumping, “i would stop looking so fucking miserable for one.”

you fume quietly, realising you let yourself become collateral damage. he is so close that his cologne permeates your fucking lungs—earthy, sweet and matty. always surrounded by the smell of cigarettes and now his body wash that’s somehow become the most enticing scent in the world. 

“can’t lose one week in, baby.” his face pinches into one big sad expression and you frown at him. 

one whole week of being so close to him and cuddling at night in bed, one week of feeling his leg part your thighs in his sleep, of feeling his thigh graze against your clit and making you hiss. one week of having him right here but not having him at all. 

you shift on his lap, feeling the coarse material of his jeans against the insides of your thighs—not that you’re wearing much, just a big t-shirt and underwear, while he’s still in his jeans and t-shirt and not yet ready for bed—and an idea sparks. 

“so don’t lose,” you smirk, moving again, straddling him with a hand on his chest. “the bet was for you to not cum. i am nowhere mentioned in it.”

“what a-are you doing?” matty stutters. he actually fucking stutters, eyes wide and roaming all over your body, particularly focused on where you’re pressed up on his thigh and already on your way to discarding your underwear. 

“what does it look like i’m doing, baby?” you lift up slightly, quickly sliding your underwear off and deliberately stuffing it in the pocket of his jeans. 

he whines and the muscles of his thigh shift right under your bare cunt. 

as if on auto-pilot, his hands grip either sides of your waist, pressing you down onto him even though his face looks utterly devastated and hungry. 

“maybe i could do this with your pillow instead, hmm? cum all over it while thinking about you?” you taunt, gyrating your hips and grinding all over his thigh, already soaking his jeans with how turned on you are. it has the precise effect you’re hoping for.

“no–fuck,” he whines, “stay here. use me, please, but stay here.”

“use you, yeah?” your mouth ghosts over his, hand trailing up his chest and tracing the contours of his throat with your nails, tracing all the delicate veins and the flutter of his rapid pulse. matty’s breath quickens and comes out in sharp pants. it’s almost like he can’t handle it, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

“touch me, touch me please!” he begs, eager and desperate when you quirk an eyebrow at him.

“touch you how?”

instead of answering, matty takes your hand off his throat and presses in on the bulge in his jeans, sighing at the pressure. he’s practically twitching under your hand, squirming even before you’ve properly even touched him. 

“can’t lose now, my darling, can you?” you marvel at the way your voice sounds, sultry and dominating with just a hint of condescensation. it’s power like you’ve never felt before. it makes the blood in your veins heat up even more, makes it flow faster. 

so you dig the heel of your palm onto his crotch, drag it up and then down and feel him twitch. feel him grow impossibly hard. matty's body shudders on the sofa like he's not even in there—just a puppet lying there pliant for your pleasure.

“but—”

you bend down to kiss him and feel all his complaints die on his lips. matty whimpers, moving his hips against your hand, thrusting forward almost, but you put an end to it almost immediately and laugh when he whines into the kiss. 

“i want to cum, fuck, need to so so bad!” his curls droop over his eyes. eyes that stare at you with such blatant lust that it throws you off kilter, almost makes your hips stutter but the pressure feels so good! the friction is enough to reduce every single thought in your brain down to a lumpy mush. 

“yeah?” you whisper in a tightly controlled breathy voice, “but you look so pretty when you beg sweet boy.”

he swallows roughly, transfixed on you and looking utterly fucked and unable to do anything other than keep his hands on your hips and help you ride his thigh, let you get off on him while he watches helplessly and writhes under your touch. 

“baby…” he whimpers again when you move your free hand through his curls, tugging at some of the strands and pushing them out of his eyes. 

your thighs burn with the strain, a delicious fucking ache that starts from deep within you and slowly spreads to the very tips of your fingers and the wet, sticky spot on matty’s jeans grows larger, right as your moans grow louder. 

“fuck, matty…” you bend down, mouth right next to his ear, right on his sweat soaked skin, “so fucking good for me, my pretty boy. make–shit! making me feel so good.”

your movements gain speed and you throw your head back, ignoring him entirely and chasing your own pleasure. no doubt he’s rather occupied with your tits bouncing in his face, seeing as how his hand trails up to trace them, to pinch your hard nipples between his fingers. 

“shit!” you cry out, “gonna cum baby. make me cum okay? good boy…”

matty’s back arches off the sofa—eager to obey, so so eager to please—pushing your t-shirt up and flicking his tongue over your nipples, nipping them with his teeth. matty alternated between tongue and teeth, licking and sucking the sensitive skin until there are bruised on your breasts, until you can barely distinguish one thought from another. until finally, you tip over the edge. 

there’s a moment where all you recall is crying out his name, breathing harsh and uneven, and then a moment stretched on to infinity that’s just pure fucking bliss. undiluted ecstasy. and then your hips finally stutter to a stop, just as you open your eyes hazily. 

the sight in front of you almost brings you to your knees again. matty’s jaw hangs open, mouth wet and red and raw and bitten—the absolute portrait of being fucked, and yet he hasn’t even been touched yet. hasn’t shed a single item of clothing. tears of frustration gather in his eyes while his hair falls all over his forehead. he can’t even make a single sound. not even a peep. 

this must have been torture for him and you know it. a sadistic side of you even relishes in it. “did you have fun?” you tease. “i certainly did…”

when you kiss matty again, you can physically feel the jolt in his body, as if his heart restarts, thumping in his chest wildly while he’s still speechless and focused entirely on you. 

matty makes a broken sound in his throat—somewhere between a “yes” and a “please” and maybe even your name. but you don’t let him finish. 

instead, you swipe your fingers through your soaked folds just as the trembling in your body subsides, collecting your slick and bringing it up to his lips that are still parted in shock. 

“a little thank you,” you place the fingers on his tongue, laughing when he swirls his tongue around them. “for being such a good boy.” 

“a good boy…” he repeats, voice hoarse and barely even audible. and you know the fun is just getting started…

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo @partoftheairforce @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches @you-muppet @mcabister @alexmarie29 @at-her-very-foreign @hfkait @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior

add yourself to the taglist

[hrryshoney]

Oh god I’m greedy can we please get a 13 as well 🧡🧡🧡

i’m just fine ‘cause i know you are mine

matty healy x reader

A/N: fleshing this one out a bit, maybe just cuz the other one i was bad at writing head🤨 bit self conscious about this one but… oh well. about 4k words by the way, give or take

warnings: alcohol mentions, jealous!matty, fem!reader, use of y/n, ummmm thigh riding, fingering, dirty talk ig, wordyyy, daddy kink… used in 2 spots that’s it, semi-public? things ensue in a closet, kinda long buildup, i think that’s it!

prompt: “What exactly are we doing right now?” Character A whispers, breathing ragged against Character B’s lips, their heart beating erratically in their chest. “Fooling around,” Character B answers, squeezing their waist. “We’re fooling around, that’s all. That’s what we’ve been doing all along, right?” (The look in their eyes says otherwise, but Character A chooses to ignore that as they give in once again.)

You were sitting next to Matty on the couch at one of his friends’ parties. You weren’t going to go in the first place. But, when he begged you, you didn’t really have the heart to say no. You didn’t know the host all that well, therefore you only knew a couple people at the event. It was awkward, but you didn’t want to be one of those people. Matty looked like he was having fun, so who were you to say something?

You were picking at your nail beds when he spoke up. “Having fun there, love?” You looked over to see his eyebrows raised, a couple strands of hair fallen in-front of his eyes.

You blew a breath from your nose, “loads. Can’t you tell?” You gave an over exaggerated smile, putting your two hands under your chin. Matty chuckled, raising his cup to his lips.

“Cute. If you wanna leave, we can?” Now it was your turn to take a sip of your drink. You didn’t particularly enjoy whatever was in the cup, he had handed it to you when you both arrived. You had been nursing it the whole night.

When you lowered the cup from your mouth, you regained a neutral expression. “Don’t wanna take your fun. It’s fine, I’m a big girl.” While in reality, you felt like a toddler who needed a nap. It was only 20 past 10:00. Maybe you were a grandma. Matty pursed his lips. His leg stretched out to kick at your shoe. He gave you one last once over before rejoining his conversation. Some debate over alcohol, you weren’t really paying attention.

You grabbed your phone out of your back pocket to check the time. Or, to look like you were busy in some sense. It had only been 4 minutes since your interaction with Matty, and now you were sorta wishing you took his offer. Sliding your phone into your front pocket this time, you wiped your palms on your jeans and stood. You looked at Matty with a smile when he was pulled out of his discussion. “G’na go mingle.” You said in a singsong voice. He smiled back and nodded.

It was a short journey to the kitchen from the living room. There was only a few people. It was dimly lit and a little too stuffy. You just needed to stretch your legs. You could see two couples grouped together, a girl eating leftover pasta at the island, and a guy standing in the corner drinking a beer. You walked over to the counter and started picking at the chips that had been left out all night. You ate a handful and looked up. The guy with the beer was looking at you. You smiled. It couldn’t hurt, he was cute. Fluffy blonde hair, maybe a couple inches taller than you, light eyes, and a few visible tattoos. He was cute. Maybe he’d be alright to go home with. You hadn’t gotten laid in a bit, so why not a stranger to provide you with a one night stand?

You were broken from your haze when he smiled back and started approaching you. You shifted your eyes and pursed your lips coyly. You could do this. Talking to men was.. okay. Yeah, it was okay. It wasn’t okay when your brain decided to do the thing and compare every guy to your best friend, Matty. But that was a problem for another day.

“Hello,” Cute guy speaks in between a smile and holds his hand out. “m’ Luca.” His skin is clear up close. You held your hand out to take his and shook. His hand was soft, too. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Luca.” You smile as you shake his hand. You were already a bit tipsy, and honestly tired. The smile didn’t really meet your eyes. Especially when you would rather be touching Matty’s hand.

There you go again. You guessed you would compare every guy you meet to Matty. Considering Matty was the one you really wanted, most other people didn’t stand a chance. But, when Matty showed no reciprocation you had to make do. Although, your inebriated brain wasn’t making your thoughts about your best friend any better.

“I was kinda looking at you.. not in a weird way! But, I saw you when you came in. I thought you were cute so.. hi.” Luca ends his rambling and you give another smile. You thought it was cute even though you knew he saw you come in with Matty. You would say he was pretty presumptuous to pursue you after he watched you walk in with him, but after all his presumption would be right.

“Hi. Thank you, you’re cute too.” Your eyes dart toward the kitchen counter as to avoid awkward eye contact. “How do you know the host?” Polite small talk was the way to go. Even if you yourself didn’t know the host.

“Oh! Yeah, we went to uni together. She-“ Luca ends his story no longer before he starts it. He looks behind your head and squints his eyes. You were about to open your mouth and ask why, but then you felt it. Well, you felt him. Him, being Matty himself. His hand went to your stomach, his chest pressed to your back. He rested his chin on your shoulder. “Hey.” He breathes into your ear. You smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath. If he wasn’t acting like this, you wouldn’t think he had enough to be drunk. “Hey back.” You say, looking at him through the corner of your eyes. “Um, Luca. This is Matty. The- friend I came with. Matty, this is Luca.”

“Ah, yes. Hi, man. Nice to meet you.” Luca offers a smile and a raise of his brows. Matty stands up straight again, hand lingering on your stomach. “Likewise. Sorry, mate. Can I steal her a sec? I’m sure you understand..” His hand trails to your shoulder, then down your arm. He eventually interlaces his fingers with yours, and starts to tug you in the opposite direction before Luca can give an answer. You shoot him a sympathetic smile and scramble so your feet can keep up with Matty’s.

“Where are we going? And why did you take me away from him! You’re such a cockblock, y’know that?” You roll your eyes at his drunken antics. Now you’d have to be babysitter for him, you guessed. The last time Matty was drunk and acted like this, the night ended in kisses and some heavy petting. To be fair, you were both pretty intoxicated. The morning after neither of you had talked about it, and that cycle would generally continue when you were both drunk. There were chaste kisses on the cheek and forehead shared when you were sober, but they were in the best friend manner.

You hadn’t been paying attention until Matty dragged you down a hallway with a sharp turn. He opened a door, that you soon realized was a closet. He pulled you in behind him and slammed the door. “What the fuck, Matty.” You rolled your eyes, exasperated. He pulled a chain from above you. Then, a flickering, dull lightbulb turned on illuminating the closet. He looked directly into your eyes, licking his lips.

“So what, you were planning on fucking him?” He looks at you incredulously, eyes blown out and lips slicked with spit. “What? Yes, of course I was! Did you not hear my speech about you being a cockblock or..?” You looked at him like he was dumb, now. “How much have you had to drink, actually?”

“Not much. Almost sober. He wanted to fuck you, too. I saw it in his eyes.” He gave you another once over. His hands then fell to rest atop your shoulders. You spared a glance at them. “Okay, Matty. That’s great. But now I won’t be doing any of that because of you, so.” You thought he had to be joking about the sober thing. He was acting like this? Yeah, more like ‘almost drunk’.

“Mhm. Don’t need him anyway, s’ok.” He moves his hands down your arms now, leaving goosebumps in their wake. And then, he nestles his head into the crook of your neck. You feel his lips press a kiss to your collarbone and it makes you still.

“What are you-?”

“Sh. Just, let me.” Matty cuts you off, pressing a few more kisses up the expanse of your neck. You were trying to ask him what he meant. What ‘don’t need him anyway’ meant in Drunk Matty Language. Obviously that strategy wasn’t going to work, not when he was like this.

Your hands come to hold his wrists. “What exactly are we doing right now?” you ask between a ragged breath, his lips continuing their assault. You couldn’t do anything more than kiss right now, not in good conscience. You knew it was the alcohol muddling his brain that had made him act like this. His hands travel down your body and rest above your hips.

“Fooling around,” his fingers squeeze at the skin there. You can feel his hot breath on your neck, now. He straightens up to look you in the eye as he speaks. “We’re fooling around, that’s all. That’s what we’ve been doing all along, right?”His pupils are dilated, chest rapidly falling and rising. There was an expression on his face, one that you couldn’t put your finger on. You didn’t think it was something you’d seen before. But as his hands trail farther down your thighs, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “Every single fucking time. When we would get drunk and make out like bloody teenagers. When you would get on my lap and grind those pretty hips against me. That’s all it was, right? Just fooling around, love?”

You gasp as you feel his hands toy with the zipper on your jeans. Instead of unzipping them, his fingers linger there. He cups you over your pants. “Mhm- Matty! Please, you-“ You’re interrupted yet again when his lips lock with yours. Your hands find the nape of his neck. You grab a handful of his curly hair and tug, moaning into his mouth. He pulls away, hands traveling back to your waist. “Would get pissed just so I could fucking touch ya, it would drive me mad. When we acted like nothing happened the next day. Meant what I said, ‘m barely drunk. Had maybe 2 cups.”

Your head falls back to lean against the closet door behind you. You needed a minute to process what was happening. “You- Mhm, could’ve fooled me. With the way you’re acting, woulda thought you’re blackout.” You take a few more breaths, then picking up your head to look back at Matty. He’s been staring at you the whole time. “Drunk on you, maybe.” Is the lame reply he gives you, a shrug of his shoulders to punctuate it. Though, you don’t miss the way his lips quirk.

“Fuck off, Matty!” You giggle as he grins with you. “M’being dead serious. I- I never knew you, y’know, felt that way. Like, wanted to go further. Thought it was just a one-off thing.” You’re still looking into his eyes, but you feel a heat radiating off your body. You guessed what he said earlier meant he has feelings for you, too. Right? Why not let him know what was going on in your mind.

“Never a one-off with you, angel. Really want to go further if that’s why you’re asking me.” His voice was sincere, and his eye contact was making you melt. You were sure you visibly shuddered when he called you ‘angel’, too. As his thumbs rubbed circles into your hips, you smiled.

“Yeah, I wanna go further too. Really- um, really like you.” You giggled after you said it. You’ve been friends with Matty for God knows how long, and now you were telling him you ‘liked him’. You guessed he was thinking the same thing as he chucked along with you.

“Glad the feeling is mutual, babe.” He doesn’t give you any more time to ponder his words before he dives back in. When Matty kisses, he leaves no room for improving. His lips moving with yours as he bites down on your bottom lip. He begins to suck on it as you open up for him, but no sooner does he slide his tongue into your mouth. You moan and let him kitten lick the inside of your mouth and your tongue. He pulls away then, lips red and swollen.

His eyes go to your neck, again. He starts to leave a trail of kisses towards it. “Couldn’t fucking stand seeing you with Luca,” he says his name tauntingly, almost spiteful. He begins to suck your neck. You knew the goal was to leave a mark. You whine when he then bites down, he’ll draw blood if he keeps this up. “Knew the fucker saw us walk in together. He shoulda known you were mine. That you are mine.” Matty licks over the spot he sucked. He presses his thumb into the bruise, making you wince and mewl. “S’pretty.”

“Matty, please.” You weren’t above begging, at this point. You’d been rubbing your thighs together, trying to find some friction on the seam of your jeans. When you shift noticeably, Matty’s attention gets pulled to between your thighs. Once he realizes what your doing, he kicks your feet apart. You almost lose balance, but his hands keep you in place. He shoves a knee between your legs and pushes up into your cunt. You whimper. “Oh, fuck. Yes, Matty. Please,”

“Ya know how to use that mouth, huh? Beg so pretty, lovie.” His knees pushes further up and you bring your hand up to cover your mouth. You knew that if anyone walked by this closet, they would probably hear you moaning like a slut. That wasn’t something you wanted to deal with tonight. Although, your damage control is cut short when Matty grabs your wrist and brings it back down to your side.

“Nuh uh, wanna hear ya. Finally sober when I’m touching you, should get the pleasure of hearing you too.” You bite your lip trying to suppress the moans. Even if Matty had encouraged it, it would still be really embarrassing. You didn’t think your ego could take it. “We’re not the only ones here, Matty. Other people are… present.” You vaguely gesture to the closet door you were pressed up against. The walls were thin, you knew this. But, when you pout at him he grins even wider.

“Even more reason to be loud. ‘M a bit jealous, but I think they’d be blessed to hear your pretty sounds. Though, can’t promise I’ll be too willing to share in the future.” Matty pins your hands to either side of you as he begins to work his knee between your thighs again. You preen under his gaze, letting out a small moan every now and again. He rolls his leg up just right, pushing into your clit. You let out a loud whine as you say his name. “Ah! Matty. S’good, n-need more.” When you manage to open your eyes, you’re met with him smirking back at you.

“Yeah, good girl. Need more, huh? Want Daddy to make it better f’you?” You buck against his leg at the use of the name. He rests his mouth on the top of your forehead, and you can feel his smile against your skin. It’s a bit pathetic at this point, but your mewls and whines are constant now. “Yes! Please, please make it better for me. Please, Daddy.” You grit out the last bit through your teeth. You were kind of embarrassed that it was turning you on, but then again you felt too good be caring about it.

“Okay, baby. Calm down, I’ve got you.” Matty lowers his leg. You open your mouth to protest, but he silences you with his mouth before any words can come out. When you feel his hand finally go to the zipper on your jeans, you understand why. He unzips them and begins to pull the fabric down your legs. You shimmy in motion with him to make it easier, and when your jeans fall to the floor you step out of them. Matty takes the liberty of kicking them to the side, and you sigh in contentment.

His hand goes to cup you over your underwear. He presses his fingers into you, “Christ, so fucking wet. All for me, right? You soak through your pretty little panties for me, babe?” You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Your mouth is hung open in a silent moan, so you nod your head profusely. Matty laughs at you, and it sounds patronizing to the point where you want to cross your legs and squeeze your thighs together.

After spreading his fingers over your panties for a little while longer, he finally moves to take them off. He drags them down your legs agonizingly slow. You buck under him, but his free hand comes to hold your hip. Keeping you still.

Once they’re finally off your legs and out of the way, Matty’s hands go directly towards your clit. When you let out a strained gasp, you open your eyes to see his smile. “Feels good, right?” is what falls out of his mouth, accompanied by a smug smile. In this moment, you think he’s too cocky for his own good. That he needs to be taken down a few pegs. But as his hand speeds up, and he rubs even more tight circles on your nerves… you think he might have the credentials to back that demeanor up.

So, at this point, what’s there left to lose? Why not feed his ego even more? “S’good Matty. Really good. T-the best.” And thought he was keeping a steady rhythm before, he falters at that. Matty pinches your clit and goes to spread his fingers through your slit. You can feel how wet you are, and it makes your body hot.

“Yeah? I’m the best you’ve ever had, right sweetheart? So good for me.” He praises you, still running his fingers up and down through your wetness. His middle finger then stretches out to play with your hole, finger running around the outside of you. “F-fuck me, Matty! C-can’t, need you so bad. Please, will you?” You cried out, needing some sort of friction. Really, you wanted his fingers inside you. You thought about how good this would feel before, and now you had it. You’d be damned if you didn’t get it.

“Need me, yeah? Cute. You’re so cute.” And when he says it, you almost think he’s mocking you. And when his finger slips inside of you, you definitely know he’s mocking you. Especially when you gasp and writhe for him because this is all too much.

Matty’s pumping his middle finger into you now. When you manage to open your eyes, you can see his blown out pupils and swollen lips. Probably from biting them too much. You were trying to keep your moans at bay, but his constant rhythm was making it hard. You had always thought his hands were objectively nice to look at. Now you would know that they felt even better. Still, you weren’t satisfied. You wanted more.

“Matty, more. Please can I have- have another?” It’s a whisper between gasps and moans. You’re honestly surprised he can make out what you said. You continue to babble illegible sentences until he leans in to kiss you. When you lean into him and your breathing goes regular, Matty pulls off. “Want another finger, right? Need Daddy to stretch you out for him?” His voice is so raspy that you think this is the side of Matty you want to see all the time. That you want to hear him whispering things in your ear like this all the time.

You screw your eyes shut tight and nod your head so hard that you can already feel the beginnings of a headache. But when Matty’s fingers still all together, you’re taken out of the experience. You finally open your eyes to see Matty staring at you. When you try to buck your hips to bring his movements back, he withdraws his hand completely. “I- Why-?” You cut yourself off with a moan when Matty lightly slaps at your clit. You’re so overstimulated that it heightens the contact. “If I ask you a question I want you to answer me with your words like a big girl. Okay, babe? Can you do that for me?” Matty’s tone is condescending and it’s making your head spin.

“Mhm! Yes, yes I can.” You rush out the sentence quickly, circling your hips again. Eager to get his hand back between your thighs. Matty smiles, but you see the gleam in his eyes. Your observation is proved right by the next question he asks. “Yes, who?” When you see his grin, you have to fight back rolling your eyes. Instead, you just give him the answer you know he wants. The answer you don’t mind giving, either.

“Yes, Daddy. Please? Want another finger so bad.” Your pout punctuates your words, and it makes Matty take a deep breath. Instead of verbally answering you, he just brings his hand back to your cunt. This time, slipping his middle and ring finger inside of you. Matty’s hand is moving faster now, no more teasing in sight. He takes his thumb to come and circle at your clit, and then presses down and holds it there. This elicits a sharp whimper from you.

“Cunts so wet for me, so tight too. Can feel you clench around my fingers.” Matty keeps running his mouth, and then decides to curl his fingers inside of you. At this point, you’re spasming in front of him. You’re surprised nobody’s alerted the host of your… interesting noises coming from her coat closet. “Like that? C’mon, cum for me. Know you can, such a good girl.” And when he rolls your clit under his thumb, you’re done for.

You were gonna give Matty something, maybe a warning. But when you cum, it hits you hard. You couldn’t even make a coherent sentence. You squeeze your eyes shut to the point where you see white. Your whole body goes hot and you feel the best type of release. His fingers keep moving inside you, working you through your orgasm. You’re a little woozy coming down from it. You open your eyes to be met with a sincere smile from Matty. You give a lazy smile in return. He finally retracts his fingers from you, and brings them to his mouth to lick them. You scrunch your nose up at him playfully.

“You taste good. Gonna have to properly eat you out, soon.” You hit his chest and giggle. You were a bit dazed now, but you knew you went giddy at the talk of a ‘next time’.

“Mhm. Thank you, Matty. That was great. Not being funny when I say it’s the hardest I ever came.” Matty laughs loudly at that. A boyish grin adorning his face. You know his ego has been fed this whole evening, and it’s quite cute. You move to find your panties that have been strewn on the floor somewhere.

“Anytime, love. Gonna be a lot more of that now that your secret’s out.” He teases, pinching your hip in the process. You laugh, but it turns into a feigned gasp soon enough. “My secret? Sure, Daddy. Let’s pretend you don’t feel the same.”

Matty’s eyes go wide as he claps a hand over your mouth. His cheeks go a little pink, too. But you’d never tell him that. “Enough, minx. Get dressed and I’m driving us home.” Your eyes lower to the bulge in his pants, but he’s already two steps ahead of you. He places his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at his face. “And maybe we can take care of that when we’re home, too.”

Matty lets his hand trail down your back to rest on your waist, and pulls you in for a kiss. A kiss that you both smile into.

[abouttofillhisshoes]

How can I refuse? - Matty Healy

A/N: am still not ready to let MPIND Matty go so have this xx (edit: this is non-canon, so it doesnt have anything to do with the plot of MPIND or its sequel, Before you go)

wc: 5k

content warnings: smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), marking, lipstick kink?, lingerie, begging, praise, teasing, general possessiveness, matty wears a skirt x

Most people live off of food, water, and oxygen. You know, the actual building blocks of life. When it came to Matty, it was all about your eyes, specifically, where they looked. It always had to be with him. Matty. Only him, no one else. 

He might tease and poke fun, but it was his weakness. Seeing you reach for your camera even your most intimate moments made his insides twist up and his stomach flutter with butterflies. Posing and contorting to your will, he did his absolute best to look amazing for you, to look how you wanted him to look. He relished in the small gasps you’d let out when the picture developed, his skin glowing under the flash, a thin layer of sweat sticking to it. 

Which is why, when you had left the house to go pick up something you’d left at Ross and Hann’s flat, he saw an opportunity. The door slammed shut with an echo through the foyer, signifying you had departed. This was one of the rare times you hadn’t taken your bag with you, leaving it hanging on a chair in the kitchen, completely out in the open. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to it from the sofa, waiting a few moments to see if you’d come back for it. The house stayed silent, the only sound coming from the sofa creaking as he got up, tentatively walking over into the kitchen. Your bag was already zipped open, the contents of it clearly visible. One specific item stood out to him, glimmering under the light. Your precious camera. 

The purple plastic was smooth in his hands, his fingers gliding over the surface. Matty could feel his heart begin to race at the thought of what this very lense had seen. His bare skin, your hands on him, nails raking over his chest, leaving scratch marks in their wake. Memories flashed through his head as he mindlessly walked into your now shared bedroom. 

The once warm white fairy lights had been swapped out for pink ones instead, a new addition to your shared space that you were yet to discover. Your bed was unmade, sheets scattering across the mattress in a messy fashion, everything covered in an obscene amount of pillows. 

This had been on Matty’s mind quite a while now, though he never had the opportunity to act on it. That is, until now. It was perfect, with you gone out for god knows how long, he had the ideal set up for a bit of “mischief” as he himself put it. 

He groans as the warmth of the bed enveloped him, welcoming him home. Pink light poured over the sheets, painting them in a warm hue. Perfect. 

Mattys began setting up. 

Femininity wasn’t unknown to him. He owned multiple skirts and dresses, makeup products, even hair pins and clips he’d managed to nick from you when you weren't looking. You knew about all of this, seeing him every day, it would be pretty hard to miss it. Though, there was one thing he hadn't told you about yet. His affinity for womens clothes wasn't just limited to the odd skirt or sheer top, but also included undergarments.

Neatly folded in a drawer underneath piles of socks and shirts, was a small collection of womens lingerie. Panties and garters in various colorways, ranging from cotton to silk or even the odd piece of lace. It wasn't like he’d been hiding it from you, you just never asked. Feeling slightly giddy, he grabbed a pair of black lace panties from the pile, slipping them on underneath his basic grey joggers. Showtime.

Matty had decided to forgo a shirt for this specific photoshoot, knowing you'd much prefer him without one. The camera was heavy in his hand, weighing it down slightly as he lifted it slightly above his line of sight. Offering a sly grin to the lense, he pressed down onto the shutter, the flash almost blinding him. The picture looked innocent enough, the only remotely suggestive thing was his lack of top.

Ruffling his hair with his fingers, he tugged down his joggers slightly, letting them hang low on his hips as he snapped the second picture, this time, from below. His hip tattoo was the most visible, standing out against his pale skin like a sore thumb. That still did nothing to distract from the obvious bit of lace peeking out from the band of his pants. The thought of you seeing him like this drove him insane, but he quickly regained his composure before getting in place for the third photo. 

Matty had managed to pull off his pants with only one hand, the other inspecting the fresh polaroid that the camera had just spit out. Now completely naked, apart from a skimpy pair of panties, it was time to get a bit more creative. 

Setting the camera on the desk adjacent to the bed, he set a timer. Hearing it tick down, Matty found a good position and stayed. Flash. The sudden light was something he could never get used to, his eyes always slightly scrunched up in the pictures. 

The camera was placed further away, but not too far, capturing the entirety of Mattys body. He was perched on the bed, on his knees with his legs spread, chest pushed out dramatically.The underwear he had on was now fully visible, the thin material barely concealing anything. His hand covered his growing erection, the thought of your reaction to the pictures once he was done was enough to give him a semi. The flash didn't bother him too much, throwing his head back just in time for the shutter to go off. 

Leaving the picture on the bed next to him to develop, he grabbed the camera off the desk, setting it aside. His hand trailed down his chest, ghosting over his nipple piercing. Giving it a tug, just as you would if you were here, he let out a wanton whimper, letting go. The other hand was already palming himself through his panties, getting him fully hard. 

The sensation of the lace rubbing up against his cock was almost too much, precum oozing out of the tip, painting the front of the panties with a wet patch. Working himself up, his hand reached for the camera, turning it around to face the lense to himself. Forcing his eyes open, parting his lips, he groaned desperately, clicking the shutter as he did. 

The picture didnt show anything below the top of his chest, but fuck, it didnt need to. The expression on his face was one of pure want, lust, desire. Taking deep breaths to pull himself together, Matty moved on to his fifth and final position. 

On his stomach, he propped a pillow underneath his elbows, giving him something to lean on. His curls fell over his face messily, covering most of his left eye. Knowing you, you'd probably make some offhanded comment about how he looked “terribly emo” like that, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. That wasn't important right now. 

Angling the camera just right, his finger came up to meet his lips, pushing through them and into his wet mouth. Sucking on them slightly, he lets them hang out lazily, coating his lips and chin in spit. The flash reflected brilliantly off of his fingers, making the whole picture appear even lewder than it already was.

Quite happy with his work, he sets all five polaroids onto the bed in front of him, admiring himself. Painfully hard underneath his panties, he knew you would be coming home soon, and quickly scrambled up to put on some clothes. Grinning as he walked over to the wardrobe, he knew exactly what he was going to wear for you. 

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

The sound of the keys hitting the counter echoes through the house. Eyes darting across the room, you see no sign of Matty anywhere. Brushing it off, you shrug your jacket onto the sofa, sitting down on top of it, hand itching for a cigarette. You look around for a stray pack Matty had left somewhere. 

That's when you see it.

The posh glass table had almost hidden the items that were placed upon it. You immediately recognised them as what they were: Polaroids. Heart racing a thousand miles an hour, you pick up the first one. 

It was of a shirtless Matty grinning up from below, and you feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Another picture, this time from below, also shirtless, with pants hung low on his waist. Your breath hitches at the sight of his underwear peeking out from the waistband, holding the polaroid to your face to get a closer look. Lace. You moan audibly at the sight, blushing slightly at your reaction. 

Hands shaking from excitement, you take the third picture, and you swear, your heart stops. Matty looks like a work of art, legs spread onto your shared bed like a true pornstar, head thrown back in an attempt to show off his long, slender neck. The bulge in his panties was badly hidden by his hand, leaving barely anything to the imagination.

The fourth is your favorite, always partial to Matty’s beautiful face. His open mouth and hooded eyes made your head spin, feeling lightheaded at the sight. The thought of him like this underneath you made your thigh clench, soaking your underwear. 

The final picture is probably the filthiest. Fingers in his mouth, spit covering most of the bottom part of his face. So distracted by it all, you almost manage to oversee the bright pink post-it note stuck to the center of the table. 

“upstairs x” was scrawled onto the paper, Matty’s handwriting immediately recognisable. It hits you at once. Matty was upstairs, waiting for you. He was waiting for you and you knew he was ready. Scrambling to get up the stairs, you stub your toe against the bannister, cursing out loud.

Before you can open the door, you're greeted by another note. This time, there was heart scribbled onto a green post-it, messily encasing both of your initials. An arrow ran through it, and you got the message immediately. 

The door seemed awfully heavy as you pushed against it, pink light flooding your senses. Matty.

Matty was laying on the bed, legs stretched out on top of unorganized pillows and sheets. A green skirt covered his lower body, the satin shimmering in the light, almost blinding. The mesh top he had paired with it showed his piercing perfectly, the sight going straight to your core. 

Before you can react, or even properly take him in, a flash actually blinds you. Matty has your camera. You rub your eyes to get rid of the burning sensation, before turning your head back to meet his eyes. A grin makes its way onto his face, the purple object clutched in his hands as the polaroid comes off of the top. Waving it through the air as it develops, you give him a look, holding up the pictures he had left you. 

“You like em?” he asks, eyes darting over your body. You knew you looked desperate, hands slightly shaking and pupils completely blown out in lust. Nodding your head, you take a step towards the foot of the bed just as he gets up. Patting the space next to him, he looks at you expectantly, setting the photo and camera aside. 

Getting a closer look at him, you realize he’s wearing makeup. This isn't unusual for Matty, but what was unusual was the bright red shade of lipstick lining his mouth. The sight made you smile, seeing as the product had smudged ever so slightly down his face. 

The moment you settle in next to him, he flings his body on top of yours, straddling your waist. No genre of porn could top the sight in front of you right now, not even close. His curls stuck to the top of his forehead, and you could see his raging hard on through the thin material of his skirt. 

“Why don't you get this off for me, yeah?” you tug at the seam of it, and Matty nods frantically, pulling it up and over his head before discarding it in a random corner. If heaven was a place on earth, it would be right in this room, with Matty, half naked and hard. 

As seen in the picture he had so kindly gifted you, the lace panties truly didn't do anything to conceal him. The mesh top (yours of course) ended right above his hip bone, showing the perfect amount of skin. His eyes looked dazed as he leaned down to kiss you, lips smashing against yours. 

The kiss is slow at first, with Matty deepening it the moment you kiss him back. Tongue and teeth and spit and his soft moans as you licked into his mouth filled your senses, your mind thrown into a lustful haze, the only cure being Matty finally fucking doing something.

Your hands thread into his hair, tugging in that way you knew he liked as his lips trailed down your jaw and onto your neck, sucking deep purple hickeys into your skin. A rough hand pushes your shirt up over your head, meeting the same fate as his skirt, forgotten in a corner. You silently thanked god today was a no bra day as your nipples hardened against the cool air. 

You feel his hips grind down onto your thigh, soft whimpers leaving his lips as he continues his assault on your neck and chest. Nibbling at your collarbones, you see him reach under the pillow for something. 

Red flashes across your vision, before settling right in front of you. Lipstick. Uncapping the top, you watch as Matty refreshes his lips, dabbing the product on softly, just as you had shown him months before. His eyes never left yours, a certain air of cockiness surrounding him. 

Before you could react, Matty’s hand pushes you further into the bed, your head sinking into the pillows. The lipstick is slightly warm against your chest, and your breath hitches as you realize what he's doing. Matty is writing on your body, and you know exactly what. 

His name. 

Ever the territorial type, he had a knack for carving his initials into things. Whether it be the chair in your old room he used to have monopoly over, or random benches he sat on often. Bus stops, furniture, even walls had either his first name or initials carved into it. You were no different.

The red of the lipstick is bright against your skin, and Matty knew it would stain, which was exactly why he chose it. Small gasps leave your mouth as he palms your tits, leaning back to admire his artwork. 

Kisses litter your ribcage, and you feel him lick a hot stripe across your underboob. Never breaking eye contact, he tugs at the waistband of your jeans, silently asking permission. 

“Yeah, go ahead baby.” you say, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He smiles back at you, moving further down your body. Tugging your pants off of you, he snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin, making you yelp in surprise. A light giggle escapes him as he rids you of your underwear, now face to face with your glistening core. 

The room felt unnaturally hot, and with Matty looking up at you from between your legs with that look in his eye that screamed “I'm going to devour you”, it seemed like even the slightest touch could have you coming in seconds. 

His hand reaches around your thighs, making you scoot up slightly before diving into your folds, lapping at your clit with dizzying accuracy. It was so much all at once after endless teasing, and you were unable to control any other bit of your body. His strong hands gripped your skin, digging into it with such force that the spot started to go numb. 

Writhing underneath him, his tongue licks circles around your clit, up, down and side to side, never letting you get used to something for too long. One of his hands leaves your thigh, instead, joining alongside his mouth between them. 

Matty had big hands, the type basketball players and athletes usually had. His finger pushing into you felt like two of yours, and you immediately clenched around him, borderline pornographic moans spilling from your lips. Pumping in and out of you, that paired with the stimulation of his tongue had your head spinning and the world around you blurring as he added another digit, curling both upwards.

“Good?” you could smack him right now.

Smirking as he hits your g-spot, you squirm under his touch, trying to warn him of your approaching orgasm.

“F-fuck Matty, so good, you’re so good- Ohh god fuck.” your eyes screw shut, and you can feel the elastic in your core tightening as he speeds up, thrusting his fingers in and out of you at an animalistic pace. 

He sucks your clit between his lips, and that's what throws you over the edge. You come, hard, probably harder than you have in your entire life, shaking and twitching as he tries to prolong your orgasm up until you start to move away from him. 

His hand finds your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingertips as your eyes shut, basking in the afterglow of a mind blowing orgasm. You're at peace, completely oblivious as Matty shuffles around for a second, and you hear a shutter. 

It happens so quickly, the photo was already in his hand developing when you finally open your eyes. Matty’s eyes stare back down at you, piercing your soul. In one hand, the camera, and in the other, he holds a fresh polaroid. One of you. 

A blush spreads onto your face when you realize what he had done, covering your cheeks with your hand. Matty breaks eye contact to glance at the picture in his hand, his eyes widening at the sight. 

It was all you, for the first time since you had pulled out that godforsaken camera. Hair strewn over the plush pillows, eyes screwed shut, and Matty’s hand groping your chest as he snapped the picture. You looked fucked out, like the personification of sex itself. 

“Fuckk- you’re so pretty.” The first word sounds like a moan coming from his mouth, but he tries to hide it with the rest of his sentence. The red lipstick across your chest really did it for him, his cock twitching in his panties as he stared at the shiny polaroid. You start to get impatient.

“Why’re you looking at those when you have the real thing right in front of you?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow. You can hear the cogs turning in Matty’s brain as he lowers it from in front of his face. 

Your hands travel up to grope your own tits, slightly smearing the imprint of his name. Letting out an obscene moan, you feel his own hands caress your face, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 

“Can I?” The question is small. Even in the heat of the moment, Matty always stopped and asked, gently stroking your hair and looking for any and all signs of hesitation. You decide to be mean, putting on a faux confused expression. 

“Can you what?” your voice drips like honey, covering him from head to toe. Feeling him buck against your thigh, you shoot him a look, expecting an answer. 

“Can I fuck you?” he whines, arms holding himself up right next to either sides of your head. “Please.” he adds, his eyes full of want and desperation. You pretend to think about it, averting your eyes and looking at the lamp on the ceiling for a moment while sucking in a deep breath. 

The only thing that can be heard is Matty’s heaving breathing as he continues to buck into your thigh, although involuntarily. He tries to control himself, counting in 7’s and thinking of anything else but the person in front of him. Finally, you open your mouth to speak.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Matthew.”

The speed at which he took off the thin lace panties confining him could be recorded as a world record. Basically ripping them off, he throws them onto the steadily growing pile of clothing in the corner. Gasping for air, his eyes roll to the back of his head when your hand meets his throat, pressing against each side. 

You hum, and Matty snaps back into reality, and you feel his hard cock leaking against your thigh. You wonder how long he had been sitting there, on the bed, waiting for your return. Did he touch himself? Has he cum already today? Or was he good and waited for you to give him what he really wanted. 

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” you ask, right before he was about to push into you. The question takes him aback, and he nods his head.

“Only a bit, to get myself hard for you.” his voice shakes in anticipation as you process his answer. 

“You didnt cum?” Matty shakes his head, curls moving with him. 

“No I didn't, I promise. I waited for you. Only want you.” he mumbles into your hair, breathing in the scent of your conditioner. 

You finally nod, hands pressing against his back, giving him the official go-ahead. 

The moment the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance, his voice cracked. Loud moans spilled out of his mouth and directly into your ears as he pushed himself all the way inside of you, making you whimper at the stretch. 

You both lay like that for a moment, before you finally tap him, telling him to move. When he finally does, he thrusts himself all the way back into you, making you cry out, nails digging into his back. 

The animalistic nature of his thrusts makes you feel lightheaded, gripping onto Matty for dear life. He murmurs incoherent cries of pleasure into your hair, his hands moving down to grip your hips, meeting his thrusts halfway. 

“So gorgeous, no one can compare. Feel so fucking good too, oh my go-” you clench around him, effectively cutting him off. The feel of his hands digging into your skin is painful, mixing in with the pleasure blooming between your thighs perfectly. 

He doesn't let up, keeping a steady rhythm as his moans become more high pitched, signaling to you (and probably the whole neighborhood) that he was rapidly approaching the edge. 

“Please let me cum, you feel so good- oh my god. You’re so wet- and warm fuckk- a-ah.” His words feed your ego, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in incredibly deeper. 

Sweat beads on your forehead, and you see him pull away from the crook of your neck to stare at his name scrawled across your chest. The lipstick had started to properly smear, red running down your skin, painting it. 

“C’mon, come f’me, such a good boy, go on, I know you can do it-” a guttural moan falls from Matty’s lips, his thrusts getting sloppier, cock slamming into that sweet spot inside of you over and over and over. 

You come for the second time that night, your vision whites out as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Stars dance behind closed eyelids and he slowed down slightly, giving you time to catch your breath.  

“You like it when I call you a good boy? You're being so good- fuck filling me up-” This was all about Matty now, and you were determined to give him the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.

His dick twitches inside of you as you tell him to keep going, to use you to get off. Eyes widening in shock at your statement, his face quickly morphed into undeniable pleasure as his cock dragged along your plush walls, the friction sending him into what seemed like an alternate dimension. 

“I look pretty, don't i? Look at your name on my chest.” you breath, your hands cupping your chest, gesturing to the bold red of his name. Matty. 

 “You're mine, no one else’s” his possessive side finally truly comes out to play, words spilling out from his lips before he could even properly think about them.

“I’m yours, only yours, my perfect boy, fuckk” you egg him on, your hands moving to his back, digging your nails into the muscle. You dig deep enough to draw a bit of blood, and Matty groans, raspy and desperate to fucking come.

“You’re perfect, fuckin’ made for me.” He right there, and you know it, 

“Matty, you’re so good to me, so pretty- all for me, isn’t it?” you voice drips with lust, determined to make him finally fall over the edge. 

“Oh god- fuck- A-ahh.” His voice is high, higher than yours even. He spills into you, his come filling you up to the brim. You moan at the sensation, pulling him in for a messy kiss, your teeth clashing together.

Matty flops on top of you, your chests pressed together as you continue your post-fuck makeout session. You can feel his come leaking out of you, pressing your thighs together to keep it off the bed. 

“Why’re you so tense? I just gave you the best orgasm of your life, thank you.” of course Matty would say something like that, cocky and egotistical as ever. Your roll your eyes, debating on telling him or not.

“You just came inside of me, it's not like it just disappears.” his eyes widen in realization, and you laugh sheepishly, your face growing red. A grin spreads onto his face, and his head suddenly disappears from view. 

“Let me just-” you feel his tongue in between your thighs once again, lapping up the remnants of his own orgasm. You shudder at the feeling, the overstimulation being almost too much. 

He crawls back up to kiss you again. It's chaste, innocent almost, barely even a peck. 

You can feel him shuffling around again, reaching to the side to grab something. The picture. He holds it up so you can both see it. 

“Can I at least wank to this one? Since you have all those others of mine you constantly get off to.” he tries to sound indifferent, but deep down, you know he’s begging for your approval. 

“How do you know I get off to them?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at him. Matty just laughs in your face, not realizing you were serious. How did he know? 

“You're not slick, the walls are thin.” he gives you a wink, and you blush a deep shade of red, rolling your eyes at him. He sees right through your act, but chooses to leave you be. 

Night had already fallen, and both of you were too exhausted to even move from your spot. Matty had switched with you, laying your head onto his chest, letting you use it as a makeshift pillow. It wasn't even 20 minutes before his soft snores filled the room, gracing your ears. 

You smile to yourself, feeling his hand still in your hand from where he was stroking it. One though was clear in your mind, and you speak softly.

"I love you so much, I'm never letting you go."  

[frailstateofhealy]

babe, you look so cool - matty x reader

a/n: hi, this is my first fic!! i've never really written something and put it out into the world so i hope you guys enjoy! so sorry if this is hard to follow but hopefully my writing improves! i'm going to label this as 18+ just because it's angsty and has mature themes! also let me know if you want a part 2! xx

warnings: angst, cursing, depiction of anger issues, toxic love and brief mention of blood

summary: you're in a toxic relationship with the lead singer of an up-and-coming band in your small town. he's damaged and so are you but two negatives make a positive right?

word count: 2.4k !!

wilmslow. a small town in england where your family had decided to relocate to a few weeks ago from london to get away from the chaos of the city.

you were eighteen years old and this would be your final year of school. you were nervous about moving to a town where you wouldn't know anyone until you met a guy called adam who was nice enough to invite you into his friend group and introduce you to them.

you would never fit in with the popular girls because you weren't a cute preppy blonde that everyone liked. you had brown curly hair and your favourite colour wasn't pink like the other girls. it was black and that was the colour you wore every day.

one day during lunch adam invited you to the table where he sat with his friends every single day. as you approached the table you saw a tall guy with blonde hair and another with short brown hair who seemed a bit shy. then finally, you saw the one who was laughing obnoxiously at something the taller blonde one had said to him. the obnoxious guy's smile faded from when he saw you standing there in front of him like he was almost in a trance at the sight of you.

adam stood up from his seat and walked over to you. "hey boys, this is y/n. she's new here and i wanted to welcome her into our group." you smiled and looked at each one of the three boys sitting in front of you but your eyes traveled back to the loud one. he was so visually appealing to you and there was something enticing about him.

adam started "this is george, he's massive. this is ro-" adam was abruptly cut off when the obnoxious one stood up in front of you. "fuck off ross! i'm matty." he said with a smile while letting his eyes linger on you for a few moments before he forced himself to look away.

you looked at matty, he was beautiful. people would often argue that men couldn't be beautiful which you always believed to be true until you met matty.

george's deep raspy voice knocked you out of your trance "shit, matty just fell in love at first sight." george joked that day but he was right and he usually was right when it came to things like that. george and matty seemed to be the closest of the four, they told each other everything. they hardly ever had secrets between them and george knew exactly when his best friend fancied someone, especially from the way matty looked at you. he looked at you as if you were the most beautiful piece of art hanging in a museum, one that he couldn't take his eyes off of.

you began to ask adam some questions about his friend matty during the class you two had together. you knew you had to get to know him and you wouldn't rest until you did. something about him really intrigued you.

matthew healy. nineteen years old. he had spent one extra year in school because he got held back from not paying attention in class or skipping. when he was asked why he didn't show up to class he told the teachers that school "got in the way of his visionary genius" he had long curly brown hair that just barely touched his neck. he sometimes wore his hair up in a bun which matty preferred you called a "man bun." his normal attire was black, ripped skinny jeans, and any shirt he could find in his closet. adam really didn't go into much detail but apparently matty had a rough home life. his parents were always working and had to babysit his little brother often. matty had beautiful brown eyes, the kind you could easily get lost in without even trying. he was shorter than adam, ross, and george and they often teased him about this which he got quite defensive over. all four of them were in a band they called themselves 'big sleep' because matty chose the name after something he enjoyed doing.

they invited you to their band practices in matty's basement every time they had one because they could use constructive criticism which is what adam said. but, you knew it was just because matty wanted to look at you. george played the drums, and ross and adam both played guitar. matty was the lead singer which wasn't surprising for his flamboyant and loud personality. you knew they would be famous one day especially matty. he was the perfect frontman for a rock band, you could just tell.

you and matty had a thing. you wouldn't know what to call it although labels weren't always important. you two would catch each other staring a little more than it should be between two friends. the other guys always knew there was something more between you and matty but they didn't seem to mind. they just seemed to be happy that matty was excited about and that you motivated him to keep showing up to school. ross told you he hadn't seen matty this happy in awhile.

_

you sat there with your legs crossed and watched the guys in front of you tuning their instruments and getting ready for today's band rehearsal. they were in the initial stages of their band so up to this point they only really sang covers of their favourite alternative songs, most of which matty chose.

"so, we wrote this song the other night when you had that thing come up with your dad." matty spoke into the microphone and he seemed quite nervous by way his voice was shaky. the mere mention of your father felt like a punch in the stomach.

matty looked over nervously to his left where adam stood with the guitar pick in his hand. adam gave him a slight nod to calm matty's nerves a bit as if saying it was okay. matty put his head down for a moment "let's do this boys." your eyes traveled to adam as he played the first few chords of their first original song. it was a slower song, it started with just four simple chords and it remained pretty consistent throughout the song. matty started to sing effortlessly while staring at you.

"she had a face straight out of a magazine"

you looked at adam, ross, and george who all seemed to get lost in the music surrounding them. you nodded your head to the beat of the music while also paying close attention to the lyrics that matty sang. you were impressed, you knew they were good but not to this degree. you could tell by the covers that they would sing that they had something special but this just further proved it to be true. the music started to build as the guys started playing faster and with more passion. you loved seeing all four of them get lost in the music that they played. you noticed that adam gave matty another nod as if telling him to do something.

"but if you just take off your mask, you'd find out everything's gone wrong"

matty sang out as he started walking towards you. he grabbed your hand and pulled you hard off the piece of furniture you were sitting on.

"what are you doing?" you asked but you didn't get an answer, well at least not the one you thought you'd get. matty took a break from singing with the pause of the instruments behind him.

"i fucking love you." he muttered as he grabbed you roughly by the back of the neck and pulled you closer to him before you even had a chance to respond. before you knew it, matty crashed his lips against yours in what was a passionate kiss. you felt chills run through your body as he let his lips linger on yours for a few moments before pulling away. when he pulled away from the kiss he reached his hand out for yours as if he didn't want to pull away but he knew he had to. you glanced up at saw george and ross smirking at each other.

they finished the rest of the song and you just stood there dumbfounded. you had no idea what just happened, you weren't upset but you were just surprised. matty nervously looked at the guys and george gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder when all the guys stepped away from their instruments and went into the other room to give you two privacy.

matty finally approached you once again and you immediately spoke "the song was absolutely amazing but why did you kiss me?" matty stared into your eyes as he started to softly twirl the hair that was hanging in his face. you knew him enough to know that he only twisted his curls when he was nervous about something.

"fucking hell!" he finally said as he started pacing in front of you. "matty, what's wrong?" you asked in a concerned voice. you could tell by his body language that something was bothering him.

"i can't stop looking at you. i can't stop thinking about you and it's bloody frustrating. i'm not supposed to be in love with you but i can't help it." he walks back and forth in front of you at a faster pace as his voice grows louder.

"i can't even fucking go to sleep without thinking about how i feel about you. even when i do sleep, you show up in my dreams. it's just-" he pauses for a moment while you just stand there staring at him.

"it's fucking impossible. i need to be your boyfriend. i'll fucking do anything." he trails off while noticing that you're just standing there looking at him. he probably thought you were judging him but you just didn't want to interrupt him.

"shit! are you even listening to me right now?"

you could tell that he was starting to get pissed off. you knew it wasn't with you but it seemed he was very frustrated with himself. he got closer to you, so much so that you could feel his warm breath on your face.

"i need you to be mine. i need you to be my girlfriend and i need you to fucking fall in love with me or something. fuck!" at this point he was raising his voice in frustration. he bit his lip and walked over to the wall and punched his fist right through it. he fell to his knees on the ground, not from the pain of punching the wall but from the pain he was feeling in his chest. at this point, his breathing was fast and he had his head in his hands while he kneeled there on the ground.

without hesitation, you rushed over to him and got onto your knees. you instantly took his now bloody hand into your hands.

"look at me matty, breathe, okay?" you said in a calm tone while staring into his brown eyes which seemed to be darker than usual at this moment.

"i just, i can't..." he paused to gasp for air.

"i can't get you off my mind is all." he said with tears forming in his eyes. he wasn't upset from sadness though. you knew it was from the overwhelming feeling of passion he was experiencing at this moment. when matty had his mind set on something, it was nearly impossible to change his mind or get him to think of something else.

"matty, what makes you think i don't want the same thing? what makes you think i'm not in love with you because i am." you saw his face turn from a pained expression into an almost bright one. his breathing instantly slowed down now that you spoke. "really?" he asked. you looked down as you noticed a bruise starting to form as well as blood trickling it's way down his hand.

you started to cry, you couldn't bear the sight of him in pain. he cupped your face with his hurt hand, letting out a hitched breath while wincing in pain. he extended his fingers to wipe the mascara filled tears that fell down your cheeks.

"i love you so fucking much, darling." he said almost as he felt relief despite all the pain he must have been in. he wasn't in much pain though, at least not right now when he was looking into the eyes of the girl he loved.

he pressed his lips against yours. only this time it was a gentle kiss that sent shivers through your body. you had dreamt of this moment since you first laid your eyes on him when adam introduced you to him.

you felt helpless right now, you knew he wouldn't have punched the wall if you just spoke up when he was talking. what if him being in pain right now was your fault?

"george!!" you yelled out which was the first name that came to your mind besides Matty's. he was only in the other room so he came rushing in based solely on of the distress in your voice.

"what hap-" he stopped when he saw his friend on the floor next to you. george immediately crouched down onto the floor next to the both of you.

"shit, not again mate." george said he helped his best friend by grabbing a nearby towel and wrapping it around his injured hand.

"he told me he was in love with me but he got frustrated and then that happened." you gestured towards the hole in the wall.

"he does this a lot. he'll be okay." george reassured while grabbing the ice from ross that he had brought in as if each of them already knew what to do.

"what did you say?" george asked as if matty wasn't sitting there right in front of him.

matty looked up at george with a genuine smile. matty didn't smile much unless he was telling a lame joke and even then it faded pretty fast. this one though was already lasting longer than any joke that he thought was hilarious.

"she said you she feels the same mate! she actually feels the same. can you fucking believe that?" matty spoke with a smile.

"i fucking told you you she would. hurt your hand for nothing you wanker!" george teased as he playfully ran his hand through matty's messy brunette curls.

"i got the girl." the curly-haired rocker said with a growing smile.

george smirked and kneeled off of the ground. "yeah, let's see if you can keep this one."

you looked at them both with a raised eyebrow and repeated what george said in your head.

this one? what the fuck does that mean?

[justanamesstuff]

Chapter 1

Seasons

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: Hiii guys, I'm so nervous for this BUT very excited too!! I hope you like it <3

Warnings: swearing a bit?, typos maybe.

Word count: 3 K

MASTERLIST TAGLIST

Every season has its colours, has its smells, has its traditions. Like every season, this love has its particularities…

Around November of 2020, England

“Matty- Oh my god!!“ 

The constant banging on her wall and the high-pitched moaning at the other side woke Y/n up. Quickly, she took her pillow and placed it on top of her face, trying to muffle the horrible sounds reaching her ears. ‘God, is she having a good time? Or he’s killing her?’, the thought crossed the girl's mind. 

Most of the time they weren’t that loud, but during that morning they just seemed to not care.

It was useless, the sounds were getting louder and louder. Y/n couldn’t bear with it any more and knowing that even if they –luckily– stopped she wouldn’t come back to sleep. So, Y/n decided to go downstairs. Maybe one of the guys was making breakfast, which would help with the awful start of her day.

Her prayers weren’t heard. The kitchen was empty and no breakfast was made. She tried to cheer up a little, because Y/n needed to survive the day. To be honest, every day and morning it was getting harder and harder.

After a quiet but long sigh, Y/n started cooking for everyone. Nothing unusual since she tried to do it most of the mornings in exchange for their generosity letting her stay at the boys' studio –which was half Matty’s house as well. Spending the quarantine rent-free with them, listening how they recorded the new album and messing around was a true blessing if she tried to focus on the bright side of everything. 

Well, they kind of forced her because they were very against Y/n spending those months alone in her flat. The boys cared about the girl as a best friend and as a sister too. They were a bunch of drama queens most of the time, but deep down Y/n was enormously grateful with/for them.

Thinking about the first months, Y/n couldn’t deny those were amazing. The entire group spent a lot of quality time, doing the stupidest challenges, doing Instagram lives for the fans, watching a lot of movies, etc. Although everything took a turn when another person joined the party. When Nadia arrived.

It wasn’t like Y/n hated her, in fact, it was the opposite which created a big dilemma for her. Matty’s girlfriend was nice and the idea of having another girl was actually  comforting during the tough times. But Y/n wasn’t so fond of the situation for other reasons.

For a period –a very long one– if you asked her, she endured with it and put on her best –fake– happy face. Y/n’s acting talents were very handy at times. Although, her true feelings were still there, underneath the surface, where no one can notice them. Specially Matty.

 Time went by and the whole thing was making her more anxious, and although the idea of leaving crippled into her mind at every minute, she couldn’t really decide. Y/n didn’t want to leave but watching Matty 24/7 attached to the other girl’s side was taking the best of her mental health.

Y/n’s mind was running fast with thoughts while she cooked, which made her subconsciously ignore the tall man coming down after he heard movement downstairs. George watched his friend move around, knowing more than anyone in the house about her sorrows. George was probably the closest to her out of the four guys. He was the only one who knew all of her secrets and kept it secured as if it was his own.

The drummer stared at her, expecting for Y/n to notice him, but he acknowledged that the girl was in another dimension. She used to do that more than she liked to admit. George could bet ‘the morning moaning festival’ taking place half an hour prior was the main reason.

Y/n finished cooking a big amount of scrambled eggs and turned searching for a plate when she saw George standing in the partially lighted corridor. “Fuck G! You scared the shit out of me!” she exclaimed while resting a hand on her chest.

“Sorry!” the big man shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t mean to scare you, love.” he apologized, approaching his best friend. “Good morning.” he greeted her properly, and she huffed.

“Good morning to you.” Y/n answered sarcastically after G placed a kiss on top of her head. 

“So, you heard, huh?”

“I can’t stand it any more, G.” she let him know. “It’s just a lot.” she continued, lowering her voice scared another of the boys could hear her.

“I know, love.” the drummer said with an apologetic expression. “But the lockdown is nearly over, and y’know none of us would like you to go.” G said as he searched for mugs.

“Why not? It’s my life, my freedom!” Y/n protested, starting to get annoyed. “It’s getting worse every day…” Y/n desperately moved her hands in the air trying to prove her point.

“Believe me… I know!” George searched for her eyes, keeping eye contact when Y/n looked back at him, waiting for his next words. “I’m not in your…situation, but I’m getting a little annoyed too.” G agreed with her.

“Yes, but it’s his house. He can do whatever he wants…”

“I half agree.” G nodded. “This might be his house, but it’s the place we choose as a studio, so for the time being its our place too…yours too!” George continued rambling, filling the mugs with hot water. “So, they need to stop with the noises.”

A comfortable silence fell between them until Y/n broke it again thinking out loud.

“What the hell can I do?” 

“About what?” A third voice came from the hallway. Matty made his entrance wearing a tired expression matching his gray sweatpants and plain shirt. He approached Y/n, leaving her a kiss on her right cheek. “What can you do about what, love?” he rephrased his question. 

“I- It’s nothing — Morning” she said without looking at him, instead walking towards the table bringing a mug with her.

“There must be something. You sounded worried.” Matty insisted.

“It’s something between Y/n and I, mate.” George said in a joking way, trying to distract him. “Something between best pals, you wouldn’t understand it.” he stated, rounding Y/n with his left arm meanwhile he winked at Matty taking a sip of his morning tea.

“Fuck off!” Matty protested. They usually have a competition about the title which Y/n find equally lame and cute. She easily felt the tension leaving her shoulders, relaxing thanks to their stupid discussion, knowing that for now Matty dropped his interrogation.

“Tell him, darling!” G urged her.

“It’s too early for this fight. Shut up and sit. I’ll bring the cutlery.” Y/n said, detaching herself from George. 

“Y/n is just too nice to tell ya, mate. She loves me more.” the singer continued joking, obviously unaware of the real implication of his words.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Matty.” George answered, sitting at his usual spot at the table.

“Who was the beautiful soul that made breakfast?” Ross entered the kitchen and stopped in his tracks, closing his eyes and inhaling dramatically.

“You know the answer.” John teased as he appeared from behind Ross. “You know you don’t have to, Y/n.” the musician approached her and helped with the forks and knives.

“Yes, for the hundred times…I know, John.” she looked at him. “But we all know that I would feel guilty since you all never let me pay for anything.”

“Because you don’t have to pay us, love.” Matty said from his place at the table with his sight fixed on his phone. He and the damn nicknames.

“But- “

“No but’s, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here!” Ross said as they all sat around the table.

They were serving breakfast when the conversation took another direction -something about the coronavirus and all of that. At the same time, the last resident of the house made her entrance.

Y/n sometimes envied her. Matty’s girlfriend always looked immaculate to a point that you could never think she just woke up. Y/n knew comparisons were wrong, but it was hard to avoid them. The girl felt awful: her hair was all tangled in a messy bun on the top of her head; only wearing an old t-shirt -from a not so famous band--and a pair of pyjamas short; and she was not wearing any makeup meanwhile she stuffed her breakfast on her face.

Nadia was all classy and perfect, the opposite of Y/n. Maybe that’s why he chose her and not his best friend. Y/n knew thinking like that was also wrong, yet again she couldn’t help it.

Y/n witnessed how Nadia greeted everyone and sat beside Matty, flashing him a cute smile he returned. They were in love, and it was obvious to everyone. Y/n was so happy for her best friend to find someone who loved him, although for many years she hoped that person would be her. For years, Y/n hoped Matty noticed her more than a mate.

When they first met, Y/n thought she felt a connection different from with anyone else in her life, although that changed quickly. Matty proved to her time and time again he didn’t want a relationship with her or nothing similar no matter how flirty he was during that first night. And Y/n forced herself her mind and heart to believe it.

Y/n was very unaware that, at the time she met the boys, Matty felt the same way she felt, but the old Matty didn’t want to lose the new friend he encountered. As another way to self sabotage himself, the young Matty did almost the impossible to show Y/n they were friends and just friends. A decision he took while being drunk became a life rule.

Since that moment, since that night, their relationship was kind of determinate. They were friends, the best friends. Not that night, but after a while, Y/n became part of the family and even Matty’s family –both sides– loved her as another member of their family. Y/n felt safe and loved, something she cherished so much since she hadn’t had that kind of love back home. Her family wasn’t like them, the opposite in fact.

For the longest time, Y/n tried to ditch her feeling for Matty. Every time a new girl showed up, tugged under his arm, Y/n decided it was the time to stop getting hurt and move on. Even though, her heart couldn’t do it. It hurt her. And with Nadia was the hardest since all of them could notice it was different, more mature…more serious. Nadia was more than a random girl for Matty and everyone was sure of that.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Matty interrupted Y/n’s inner monologue, staring at her, while his right arm was around Nadia.

“What?” Y/n answered, coming down to earth, with a question. 

“You were gone.” everyone was strangely in silence while they looked at each other.

“I was just thinking about the government lifting the restrictions. Meaning, now I can go home.” she half lied, while messing with the leftovers of her breakfast. Y/n did chat about it with G that morning anyway, and it was a reality Y/n needed to get away from the lovers for a time.

“I told her, none of us want that.” George interrupted their conversation.

“Of course not.” Jaime, who joined the breakfast table, said to her.

“I know, guys. But it’s been almost four months and I- This is not my- “

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Matty warned her, and she looked him directly in the eyes.

“It’s the truth, Matty.” she said, dropping her fork on the plate.

“It’s not, this is your house too, Y/n/n.” Ross, sweet Ross, reminded her. “At the same time, if you want to go back to your flat, I understand. We’ll miss your meals.” his comment made everyone chucked, except Matty who was studying every one of her movements. 

A weak smile was plastered on her face while she stared down towards her plate unable to make eye contact with Matty. “Don’t get me wrong. I love being here with you guys, but I need my space.”

“If this is about some couple…” Jaime looked at Matty and Nadia “Waking up the whole house.” he finished the sentenced winking like a cartoon.

“For fuck's sake.” Matty swore under his breath. “Is it about that?” he looked at Y/n.

“‘Course not!” she looked at him trying her hardest to hide her feelings.

“I wouldn’t blame you if that’s the reason. I’m sleeping on the other side of the house and I can listen to them. You’re right beside Matty’s room!” John emphatically said.

Before Matty could say a word, Y/n exclaimed, “It’s not about that, okay?” she simply lied. 

Y/n could sense George staring at her. “It’s what I said, I need my space, and it’s not like I’m going to disappear.” another white lie. Y/n was planning to do exactly that for a while until her wounds healed again. “You’ll still have to bear with me.” she finished her little speech.

“We can simply send the couple to your flat, and you can stay here in peace” Ross joked this time. All of them except for Matty laughed again.

“Stop with that, he will get angry.” Y/n defended Matty.

“I know it’s not my house either,” Nadia started saying. “If I can say something, I would like you to stay, Y/n.” she continued rather shyly. “It’s nice to have a girl around.” Of course, she was so nice. “I promised we’ll keep it down.” she looked quickly at Matty for reassurance and then again at her.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry you’ll have to survive with these boys, but I really need to go.” Y/n explained. “Another reason is the fact that I have to prepare to get back to work soon.”

“So, when did you start thinking about leaving? Since you apparently have a lot of reasons to leave.” Matty said with a strange expression on his face.

“Matty-”

“Are you that eager to leave?” ‘He was pissed?’, Y/n thought. 

“Matty- “she protested, not knowing what else to say.  

“No, it’s okay. I get it! You want to leave, it’s okay.” he stood up from his seat gathering the plates to wash them.

“Matty!” Y/n said again.

“It’s fine, Y/n!” he said more sternly, obviously not fine with the situation. 

The rest of the group –included Nadia–, took that as a cue to leave the friends so they could talk. They made stupid excuses, leaving Matty and Y/n alone in the kitchen.

Matty went to the sink, beginning to wash the dishes. After letting a big breath out, Y/n stood up approaching where he was standing.

“Why are you so angry?” she asked him, folding her arms, standing beside Matty looking at his profile. Matty was stroking the plates with more force than needed for the task in hand.

“I’m not. I said that I got it, and it’s fine.” he answered.

“You’re obviously not fine, Matthew.”

“Do you want to know how am I? Perfect.” he stated, turning the water off and drying his hand with a cloth while he turned to look at her. “I really don’t get it why you want to leave so suddenly.”

“It’s not that I want to- “another big lie. She wanted to, she needed to.

“Bullshit!”

Y/n tried to defend herself, “I’m not going to disappear…”

“Bullshit!”

“Can you stop that?” Y/n stood directly in front of Matty. 

“I know you’re going to disappear. I know you. We’re best friends and something is bothering you, I can tell. It hurts that you’re not telling me anything and I fucking bet you told George already.” She couldn’t tell him the truth.

“Is this more about that competition?” Y/n tried to distract him.

“Yes- No- Of course, not- This is about you and me.” Matty said, melting her heart a little. He was obviously troubled with the idea of Y/n leaving.

“Matty, there is nothing…mayor going on. Trust me. I need silence. You said it, you know me. I crave my space…alone.” she told him sweeter this time.

“Yes, I know. But you can find somewhere here-“

“You know that’s a lie.” ‘What a hypocrite I am’, Y/n thought. 

“I know.”

“You aren’t gonna miss me. You have the boy and Nadia- “she moved uncomfortably in her place.

“It’s not the same, you’re my best friend. I’ll miss you, darling.” Matty looked at her with his best doggy eyes.

“Don’t!” Y/n pointed a finger at him.

“What?” he played dumb.

“Don’t give me puppy eyes, it won’t work.” she smiled this time.

“Shit, are you so certain about it?” he looked down, defeated.

“Yes.” Y/n simply said.

“Okay, I understand. You can go.”

“Thanks for your permission that I didn’t ask for.” Y/n tried to joke.

“But- “ he ignored her.

“But?”

“But promise me that you are not going to disappear for too long.” he said, staring directly into her eyes.

“I promise.” Y/n said way too quickly. After a couple of seconds, she had to look elsewhere.

“Can we hug?” he said very slowly. 

Y/n chuckled, placing her arms around his shoulders, at the same time Matty placed his on her waist.

“I love you.” Matty mumbled on her left shoulder.

“I love you too, Matty.” Y/n said, feeling it from the deepest of her heart. There lied the difference. 

Maybe, she couldn’t love anyone like she loved Matty, even though she had to try for the good of their relationship. 

-------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @hollybrislen

[noacfapologyst]

telltale heart - matty healy. part 1

summary: you and matty have drifted away from each other due to both of your touring and recording. in the same way, time has made you lose more than the other. but in that sense too, it is when a proposal arises that seems taken from a fantasy.

wc: 2,6k

You lock the phone with a long sigh, you don't even try to control it. You should be happy, you know it and you know it's the moment that puts you back on top after past events.

But you can't, because you know everything that comes next. A Grammy nomination is perhaps all you've ever expected in your life, even more so than when that movie soundtrack hit the Oscar, and even though you didn't win it at the award, yoelt the same way. You read the information again, it is not the only nomination you have, since the same song is nominated for the Golden Globes.

It's crazy and immediately you radiate a small smile while you pet your puppy, and then you laugh a lot in your apartment, in the dark. Right at your best moment, when you should be sitting between champagne and bottles celebrating, he decides to throw everything away and not be here.

Your manager calls you early in the morning, congratulates you on the nomination and updates you on issues that honestly could not interest you less. You don't want to think, or maybe you don't allow yourself, about all the anxiety these weeks will bring.

In your head you can already read the news portals made with perhaps too much enthusiasm on the part of the tabloids: The legend that sweeps everything in its path is crowned with nominations for the Grammys, the Oscars and the Golden Globes for the soundtrack of the film of the year! Unstoppable: even with a broken heart it still surprises us!

You take it out of your head, and you try to sleep, but you can't, and you give up. You open your nets and release a general thank you for the nominations and read everything very high up, lately the nightmare has become that: Doing a lot of research causes crisis and tears.

You get out of bed and change your pajamas for something more comfortable to go out with. It's winter, although it's not that cold, so you just confirm with a sweater and some worn jeans. You take the car keys and without warning you drive down the road for a while with only one place on your mind: the study.

When you see the facade of Dirty Hit everything seems to calm down a little bit, you're coming home, or going back to it. You never get separated, maybe because you live 15 minutes away, or maybe it's because you and your best friends went into that studio in the same year and grew up inside, practically. The aura envelops you, it's familiar, it's homely, and you allow yourself to blink a little more while feeling some tears fall.

You don't try to dry the drops of water off your face, it's almost 3:00 in the morning and there's no one for miles around. You pass your card through the reader and open the door, letting the smell of poorly roasted coffee and cleanliness reconnect you to your most vivid memories. Where you were happier, less known, and you didn't have to try to look cheerful all the time. Those were better times, no doubt.

You go up the elevator, not without first leaving a note at the front desk clarifying that you entered with the security key, and that you had to come to record something beforehand, so as not to generate thoughts about some theft or something like that. Inside the elevator, you look in all directions, and you realize that your hair is disastrous. You make a bow as much as you can and point to the second floor.

There are lights on everywhere, but you don't think it's worrying. Then you open the door, and you do nothing but feel your heart fall on the tip of your tongue, you melt.

Your best friend is with his back to you, on the controls playing buttons nonstop trying to find a sound that will stand out from the rest, it has always been and you can't expect anything else. There's a trail of coffee cups that reveal how many hours she's been here, but everything falls apart when you see her figure reflected in just a flash of light.

Her curls are out of control, perhaps because she hasn't had time to adjust them. He's got a sweater and a messy pair of pants, but he's still fantastic. Although he has a stronger skin tone, he's been tanning since the last tour. You haven't had a chance to see it, as much as you wanted, since the fame came to them everything has become shorter and harder to program.

But right now, nothing else matters. No tabloids, no insufferable managers, it's just him and you. Just like old times.

You walk quietly to keep him from getting scared, and then you run your arms under his ribs sucking his perfume in motion, grasping him tightly from behind as you feel him startled by the sudden fright. Then calm down as you raise your hand and notice your distinctive rings; the one he gave you when you were 11, and the one he gave you when you were 20, engraved on silver with your initials.

"Please, tell me that you are really here." Ask, without moving. "Please, tell me that you are really here." He asks, without moving, as if he's afraid to break the moment. You let go of the grip a little bit and you put your head on one of his shoulders, and you kiss his cheek.

"Hey, Matty." You smile, and then he turns around so he can see you. When the grip breaks, he takes you in his arms and brings you close enough to him. Stir your hair and finally part.

It takes a while to appreciate you without taking the silly smile off her face. You smile the same, you know for a long time that you've fallen for him, anything I do will make you smile. You love him, you've accepted it already. But you've accepted the other part too: that he does, but as a friend. There's nothing more.

"You're such a winner, congrats for the nominations." You come out of the trance and look at him. - He's noticed?! - Smile, maybe that's the compliment you want most.

"Did you see it?" You take a seat on the small sofa in the living room, without missing the opportunity to follow the steps with your eyes.

"Nope, I was absorbed the whole day here." Answer with the obvious. "But I don't need to watch it, I just knew you would become nominated. The song is amazing, if they didn't if they didn't give you this, I would have personally gone to burn the jury."

If you couldn't control your tears in the elevator, this becomes like a joke. You climb up for yourself, and you look at him with all the truest love you have for him. You've missed him these months, you've needed him.

"Dont be modest." You stick out his tongue and lay your head on the sofa."I have missed you, a lot. The infidelity thing was really hard."

"Oh, honey. I missed you, too." It makes a semi-pout and again you feel your heart falling. He's looking for something in the study because he crosses his eyes, until he finds his box of cigarettes."I need to stop, lets go outside and then you can tell me." He proposes, and you nod quickly.

They leave the studio in a quiet that is not uncomfortable, the night is at its best and you wish you could say the same about both, but each looks like the end of a car race, and whatever you prefer, it's more natural.

They walk to the largest window on the second floor, and with a little effort they manage to open it. They both rest their arms on the brown frame and are enveloped by the dawn breeze.

You smile nonstop and take advantage of every second to gaze at what has been your person all your life. Every moment you spend next to him has become a torture knowing that you can't just run off to kiss him or tell him you love him and you'd see everything fall overboard just to be next to him.

You've seen every single one he's put in his room, the ones he's taken out, the ones he's worked with and the ones he hasn't. You've been a part of everything, but never the way you want to be. For your part, you've tried everything to swallow your feelings for him, but when you're alone, he's the only person you want to be with, and when you have someone, he never feels the way he should feel.

It's crazy when you think about it because you're one of the most famous british girls in the world, and you could have whoever you like in your bed or in the bed of some fancy hotel. You could sleep with the most acclaimed actor, the best businessman, and yet, you can't really have the person you love, even if you've melted your heart into him. The person you've fantasized about more times than you've been awake is not yours at all, while you are his in the whole.

A touch on your shoulder distracts you from the whole cataract of thoughts. "Hey, you were here a few moments ago."

"I'm here, I promise." You raise your shoulders and support the right on the frame as you turn to stand sideways. "I was just....thinking."

Take one of the cigarettes out of the box, bringing it to your mouth, and then close the lighter to light it. "So, I'm all ears."

"I don't know Matty. It was really a shit." You sigh and automatically teleport to the day you found out. "Imagine, you are in a interview for a magazine and when you are going back to your home, you see in twitter that your boyfriend has cheating on you." You sigh a little tired, after all he was one of your best boyfriends and you loved him enough to let it not affect you. "And, of course, it was a photo." You see him blow off the smoke in a puff and then turn around to see you, with a pretty sad facial expression. "Finally, the guy you've dating six months has the best idea: telling you that you bored him and he doesn't love anymore."

You could count more, but it's enough. You breathe and stick your head out under the window to feel the fresh air. When you come back, you see in slow motion how their expression goes from worry to anger and hatred. In the middle it takes another puff, and then exhales in front of the moon. Every time you see him smoking, he looks so alive, so human, and so easy to desire. You often wonder how his lips would feel.

"Oh god. I'm so sorry." He approaches with a step, cutting the distance between the two. There is a moment of doubt when the two find themselves in a contest of furtive glances on the lips, but no one has the initiative to go one step further. Neither of them would ruin it, because neither of them knows that they actually feel the same way. "I'm really sorry, darling. You don't deserve someone to treat you like that."

"Whatever, Matty." You know with one move you could have it all, but it hurts to have to let it go.

You. He. An empty study. Moonlight through the window. Your lips and his lips. Well, maybe you can write a song about them.

"Do you know the worst part?" He plants a kiss on your forehead and then makes his retreat backwards. He shakes his head listening to you carefully. "I don't have an appointment for the awards, they will put me with anyone I don't know. He will go, I'm sure, to someone much better. And it will be hell." You consider that your concern is actually far from being it, maybe they're just taking it too hard. "Sorry, it's stupid."

"Actually I get it." He looks at you with a smile full of honesty mixed with tranquility. He's so peaceful when he doesn't have cameras on him, he's such an easy person to take refuge in. "Fame is dark."

"Don't even say it." For the first time in a long time, you're fully aware of how silly the tone of the conversation is.

"I could be your date, if that's what you're worried about." He proposes after a while, as if it were the most obvious and easiest answer in the world. He rejoices at the way your cheekbones contract and your eyebrows go down looking at him with confusion.

"Wow...wait, what?" Your head now looks like a maze. All wires mixed without a connector in between. You're sure he's kidding you.

"I'm being serious." It seems to read your mind, but maybe it just decipher your face. "Look, you have the option of going with someone you don't know. Or I can go with you and make it easier for you."

Could you ever even get to Matty? Your answer then comes when he winks at you with a head move mixed in an obvious laugh. You can't tell him that maybe all you've ever wanted is to have him on an official date, or have him on an official date until the day you leave the world, it's not a moment you want to ruin like that. But even so, he still fulfills everything you've ever dreamed of him.

Both coming to a red carpet. The yellowists go crazy because someone of such a corrupt and controversial reputation shouldn't go hand in hand with someone with such a delicate demeanor as yours, with such formality and finesse. Networks explode, they've got them on the headlines for days. You and Matty laughing from the inside, refugees at each other. And even if it wasn't official as a couple and they were just friends, would there be anything better to ask for?

"The offer won't last forever, honey."

"Fine. I'll accept it." You roll your eyes dramatically and then take up your previous posture. "I'm joking. I would love for you to come with me to the awards." You get up and you stretch. Then you kiss his cheek and smile silly at her without hiding the emotion about it. You think it's not so hard to find out that you're in love with him sometimes like that. "Thank you for this Matty."

"It's gonna be funny." He takes off and starts walking when he suddenly yawns. "I think I'll back home. You eat?" They both walk towards the elevator when they turn off the butt, you turn your head down.

"I don't think so. I want to try to record something, or write." You explain when they get into the elevator, in a couple of seconds you're back on the floor from the beginning.

"Good look with that and good night honey." He gives you a final kiss on the cheek before he leaves. "Oh and...I love how the red color looks on you." He raises his voice taking advantage of the lack of people and disappears through the doors.

Then the red dresses your cheeks.

this is my first fanfic here so i hope you enjoyed it. please let me know that you think about and make me know if you want to be in the taglist.

see you soon 🤍

[the1975attheirverybest]

A/N: wasn’t gonna post this. Might take it down later.

Idk.

Warnings: mental illness depiction. Depression.

———

She smiled in anticipation as she clicked the door shut behind her, grocery bag in cradled in her arm, a floral arrangement sticking out of it. She’d been looking forward to this all week. A home cooked meal, or, more importantly, a sit-down dinner with Matty, for which they’re both present and in no rush to get to work, catch a meeting, or go anywhere.

Upstairs, however, Matty panicked at the sound of her coming through the door. He sat up in bed, looking helplessly around the room. Would it be more beneficial to just get out of bed and pretend that he wasn’t even in the room? To lie and say that he was feeling sick? To pretend to be asleep? He’d been lying to her all week. It’s felt awful, but he’d done it to spare both of them the emotional drain. He knew it was for the best. Pretending to be already asleep whenever she came home every night this week, just to avoid having to spend time together, to see her, talk to her, fake a smile. Focus on conversations, or hear about her day and tell her about his. He didn’t have the mental energy for any of that; besides, he didn’t have much to say about his own days. He couldn’t stomach having to admit to her that he’s been getting out of bed late every morning, then counting the hours until he could get back into it again. That he’d been getting back into bed as early as 6 pm, and just waiting for sleep to come so he doesn’t have to be conscious, alone with his own thoughts, anymore. So he’s been lying. Letting her think that he was fast asleep by the time that she got home late. Feeling her tiptoe around the room to undress and get ready for bed, feeling her slide under the covers and give his forehead a little kiss goodnight. Tonight, however, she’d gotten home earlier than expected. It was only 6:30. He wasn’t going to let her catch him in bed already. But he had no energy to get up, let alone put on a brave face and act normal all night.

He listened for her footsteps as he contemplated which of his many lies would be the least cruel, she’s looking in the kitchen, the bathroom, his office. Soon, she’d be here. Matty felt paralyzed. Was it the indecision? The crippling depression?

Anxiety over the inevitable argument? He couldn’t bring himself to move.

“There you are!” He heard her silvery voice as she popped her head in, pausing by the doorway once her eyes had finally landed on him.

He watched as her expression changed almost instantly, furrowing her brows as she focused her gaze on him. He’d attempted a smile, mustered the energy to greet her, but before the words were out of his mouth, she interrupted.

“Matty, honey, what’s wrong?”

He was stumped. He had ‘t settled on a lie yet. At this point, he was willing to say anything, but when he tried to respond quickly, to reassure her that everything was fine and to redirect the conversation, nothing came to mind. And the longer it took him to respond, the more worried she became. With every second that went by, the lie that he needed became bigger, more difficult.

“Uhh- erm- I…well, I’m-“

She approached the bed slowly, sitting by his feet. “Everything alright?”

She’d moved the air with her. He could smell the scent of her perfume, and even from a distance, he assumed her hands were a bit cold from the chilly nights breeze. She had that outside energy about her. Like someone who’s done a whole days worth of things while he’d laid here the whole time.

“Everything’s fine.” He mumbled, his eyes dropping down to stare at the duvet.

“You sure?” She grabbed his foot over the covers, squeezing gently. Concern itched into her voice, she dipped her head lower in an attempt to meet his eyes.

Matty’s hands tightened into a fist around the duvet. He took a deep breath. “Y-yeah, yeah. Was just trying to take a nap that’s all.” He smiled, weakly.

“I got us some stuff for dinner.” She announced more cheerfully. “I was thinking we could, like, make a date out of it. Cook together or something. But if you’re too tired, we don’t-“

“No, no. Let’s, erm….let’s do it.”

The pangs of guilt in his chest were too strong to let her down. The whole reason he’d been avoiding her all week was because he wanted to spare her the morbid pain. He wasn’t going to let all that effort go to waste now.

***

“So, how’s your week?” Matty had heard her ask, as he moved the food around on his plate, not even able to bring himself to eat. “Your dinner’s not been touched.” She noticed. “Baby, what’s going on?”

When he panicked and lifted his eyes to look at her, she saw it. It hit her then that she should’ve figured it out much sooner. The heaviness behind his eyes. His sparkle gone. He didn’t dance, nod, or even hum along to the music in the kitchen earlier. Every night this week, when she’d come home to find him sleeping, he’d be in joggers and a t shirt. Just like he was now. She knew he normally slept in nothing but his boxers. Having his clothes still on meant that he hasn’t gotten ready for bed. Hadn’t bothered to take his clothes off, probably hadn’t brushed his teeth either. How could she not have pieced it to nether until now?

“Oh, baby…come here.” She set her fork down with a clang against the plate, rising to her feet and walking over to him instantly.

She held his head as he laid it against her stomach, keeping his close and buried into her.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She whispered, caressing his cheek.

Matty simply shook his head.

“How bad?”

“Not that bad.” He spoke into the fabric of her shirt. “It’s fine I’m- you know me. I always get this way sometimes.”

He was right. She knew that. She knew how much he struggled to be back home in between long stretches of touring. He’d always had a hard time with breaks. As hectic and taxing as your life was, it was structured. His time was accounted for. He knew where he needed to be and when he needed to be there. He knew what his next moves were going to be for several months at a time. The adrenalin and the work kept him going. he preferred to stay busy. Once he was yanked out of that and left to his own devices, he usually fell into a depressive episode.

“Well, have you gone outside? When was the last time?” She began to run through her checklist in her mind.

His silence told her everything that she needed to know.

“What about food. Have you eaten at all today?”

He remained silent but his arms came up to wrap around her waist, pulling her even tighter into him.

“I assume no water either, then?”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered after another moment of silence.

“Don’t be sorry, my love.”

***

She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, with Matty’s arms wrapped around her. He buried his face into her stomach, held on to her so tightly that she could barely breathe. as if she might run away if he were to ease up. She’s laid there as he’d sobbed into her all night, rubbing his back, occasionally running her hand through his hair. They hadn’t said much to each other. There was nothing that either of them could say. But they both knew that clinging on to her like a terrified child and have her gentle touch soothe his pain was what he needed most in that moment. It got him to cry himself to sleep.

It had the opposite effect on her though. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face. Dark circles underneath his eyes. The light gone from his face. She heard the heaviness in his voice. His sniffling and hiccups, the way that he couldn’t bring himself to face her or talk to her or give himself permission to receive comfort from

Her.

She knew that he’d be out of the darkness sooner or later. It had happened before, and as much as it pained her, she knew it would happen again. None of it makes the feeling of watching the person that you love most in this world struggle any easier. She wished she could take his pain away. If love were enough, she would spare none of it. She’d wrap him up in her love and protect him from the hurt. Love wasn’t enough though. It never would be. She didn’t know how to make him hear her. To break through the walls that went up around him. To pull him out of this. She would just have to be content with how things are right now. Up all night worrying about him, so he could finally hold her tight and get some much needed rest. She could lay here as the night dragged on and hope that he felt a little better tomorrow.

[abiiors]

birthday wish - matty x reader

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

“matty you fucking dick!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he’s chickened out again. 

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

right? she might as well date someone else. 

i should set her up with a friend…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

matty stretches and gets out of bed.

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

maybe he should let mayhem out into the backyard first. 

mayhem…

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

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

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

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

i’ll get you back, healy!

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

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

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

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

“right…”

“right. that all?”

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

“did anything else happen?” 

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

“mayhem seems to have ran away.”

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

“is that so?”

“yeah, just a hunch.”

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

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

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

“the day’s not over yet, sweetheart.”

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

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

“we’ll see about that tonight.” 

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

he fucks up almost instantly. 

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

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

turns out the list of tipsy people also includes her.

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

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

“yeah? it looks beautiful on you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“matty—”

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

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

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

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

shit shit shit. 

what has he done. 

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

not… indifference. 

or worse… disgust. 

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

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

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

“what…”

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

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

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

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

“love—”

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

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

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

fuck… how did it go so wrong so quick. 

how did he mess it up so bad… 

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

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

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

taglist: @scooby-doodoo @partoftheairforce @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches @you-muppet @mcabister @alexmarie29 @at-her-very-foreign @hfkait @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl @sinarainbows @starvchaser @noacfapologyst @abouttofillhisshoes @tbhnotthatfunny

add yourself to the taglist

[heyidkyay]

1:02

'This song is about a girl [friend] that I had. She was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. I loved her but she didn’t feel the same way. I don’t even think she knew I loved her. This song is about the times I had with her. As she and I became close friends, we had traditions. It was kinda like our thing, y'know? We’d somehow always coincidentally be out at exactly 1:02AM, so that was our thing. Now whenever I’m awake at 1:02AM, I think of her and I let her go.'

102 (Acoustic) - The 1975

She doesn't know.

Doesn’t know what it does to him when she thieves the cigarette right from out of his mouth. Doesn’t know how hard his heart pounds when she settles in closer, when her knee touches his own. Doesn’t see the way he watches her grin, eyes always catching. 

Doesn’t realise how far gone he is now. She doesn’t know.

“Guess what time it is then.” She says to him, smiling coyly while her eyes dance over the expression he wears. They’re at the common again, she’s sat close enough that her arm brushes his whenever she rants, and he can’t find it in him to pull away. It's a little masochistic.

He gifts her a glance, then pretends to look away because what she doesn’t know is that he can still see her just in the corner of his eye. The corner of his mind. “Ask a better question.”

“Awh, come on!” She complains around a hearty chuckle, nudging him with her elbow just as he takes another drag. He’d brought ten on his way over, only had about four left now. The thought had him wondering how far he could stretch them, how far he could keep her for. “It’s our thing, don’t ruin it by bein’ a prat.”

He snorts, blowing out smoke with it, then he rolls his eyes. “One, oh three.”

She narrows her eyes in turn, “You’re actually a proper dickhead.”

He grins, can feel the stretch of it even as tries to dampen it. She reaches out then, stealing the fag for herself. She looks maddening in that moment, in this light, and he hates himself for thinking it, and for the way he watches her lips wrap around his cigarette, cause he knows it’s the only that way theirs would ever meet. Around the butt of a shared smoke.

“Wanna know who I saw earlier anyway, when I was out with our Kirsty?” She continues on, always so oblivious to his state of mind.

“Go on then.” He replies, picking at a fray in his jeans to keep from wanting to touch. Though he can already guess who.

“Fucking Dean.” And yeah, there it is. He prods her for his cigarette back and she gives him it, already yapping away again, completely unaware of how his entire being has slumped at the name.

Dean Willis was a right cunt. A mug amongst mugs, in truth. He’d been in the year above them at school, threw a couple good parties in his time, and had played for the local rugby team. He’d moved down south to try and make it big, but he’d heard Dean was back home when talking with Ross the other day. He hadn’t said a thing to her about it, hoping that the prick was just stopping in to see his mum.

“.. and he had the nerve to just smile when he passed us by, said ‘alright’ and then carried on!" Matty tunes back in to hear her complain, smiling softly when he sees the way her nose has scrunched up unhappily and how she’s now gesturing this way and that. “You believe that? After what we had and what he did, he just swans back in with an alright! He’s a right cunt is what he is.”

Ha. He takes another drag before passing it back off to her.

“What you smiling about anyway?” She tuts, rolling her eyes at him before she finishes off the embering end.

“Nothing,” He answers, still smiling yes, he knows, but he can’t seem to help it. “Just like seeing you all riled up.”

She glares but concedes easily enough, the beginnings of a smile wilting her stern frown. She knocks their shoulders together, “He just pisses me off is all. That, and the fact that he’s back for good. Upped and left without a second thought to what it’d do to-”

He stopped listening after that. Back for good, she’d said. What the fuck did that mean for them then, for him? Back for good. He was stuck on it. 

By the time he made it in that night, it was gone three. He’d wandered about outside for a bit after dropping her off home, chuckling away to himself when he’d watched her shuffle up to her bedroom window, before finally slipping his way through his own front door.

His dad is away in Spain again, filming, but he knows his mum's around, he’d seen her earlier that morning, so he has to be quiet getting in. Though it isn't all that hard, not when he’s had years of practice. 

He makes his way through the kitchen, grabbing at whatever leftovers his mum had left when she’d gone out for dinner and then shuffles his way up the stairs. Lou’s room is right by the landing so he treads a little lighter there and closes his own bedroom door with a quiet click, glad for the ability to finally shuck off his jeans.

By the time he’s stuck the stereo on low and settled himself on the end of his bed to eat, he's all but ready to pass the fuck out. Knows he shouldn’t though, that he should have something more than a pack of fags for tea, but he hardly ever feels tired. And it’s the drowsy sort, the kind he knows will knock him out instead of coercing him under the covers only to plague him with another fit of insomnia.

He chews on a few bites, his stomach hungry for it but the thought of sleep turning it all to mush in his mouth. He gets up to throw it down onto his desk, figures he’ll deal with it tomorrow or when it gets all grim and his mum complains about a smell. 

But before he can turn around again, he spots the shirt hanging off the back of the chair there. The same one she’d stolen and sported the last time she’d been round. When she’d fallen asleep on his bed whilst watching a film and he’d been left to keeping quiet in the dark in hopes not to wake her.

He stills for a long second, then almost unconsciously sees his hand reaching out to grasp it. Her perfume flutters at the movement, filling his head, and so he doesn’t really feel his feet start to move, or the way he falls to sit down on the edge of his bed. Contemplating what to do with it, to do with himself. 

An itch gnaws at him, the voice in the back of his head telling him to phone her because it simply wants to hear her voice. But he knows she’ll be asleep, it’s closer to four than three now. 

He clutches at the shirt and thinks back to tonight, how she’d complained for ages and he’d just listened, to the promise of her buying the first round this Friday when they all went out, to her shoes and how they’re fucking worn to bits but also her only favourites.

Sleep crowds the edges of his mind but all he’s got are words now filling up his head, so he keeps the shirt close, even as he gets up to grab his guitar and then settle back on the bed. Lets it sit in his lap whilst he plucks at strings. Thoughts of her filling his room.

“You, you, you..”

[abouttofillhisshoes]

I'll take it one day at a time - M.H x Reader // pt.7

A/N: this took a while to write soz my loves TW: hard drugs especially in this one, please take care of yourself! Also very NSFW minors do not interact. I had a fun time writing it and an even better time listening to @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff (absolute cunt) tell me i'm evil❤️ Enjoy yourself my loves!!

wc: 5k

part eight

It hurts 

Everything hurts. This impossible pain that was eating you alive from the inside out. You missed him, it was like a part of you had been ripped out of you. Since the day you met you hadn't spent more than two or three days apart, and even that was by force of either his parents or yours.

You kept replaying that day in your mind. The way he had looked at you, his eyes wide and teary, begging you to let him explain. Maybe you should have stayed, made him tell you exactly what had happened. What made it all worse was that Ruby was a part of all this. She had given it to him in the first place, the thought made your stomach churn.

The past few days had been spent laying in your bed, curled up in a ball under dirty covers. He had lied to you. The lights were dim, barely illuminating the numerous piles of plates that littered the surfaces in your room. Your mother had tried multiple times to get you out of bed, but you just ignored her, not being able to find the strength. 

Hann had come over, meeting your mother in the process. She had directed him to your room, saying something about your boyfriend leaving you. Completely false, since you hadn't said anything to her. She liked to assume things, taking on whatever narrative helped her feel better.

The door creaked open, light flooding the otherwise dark room. 

His hand brushed against your arm as he sat down at the foot of your bed, his eyes filled with worry. You didn't speak at first, refusing to make eye contact. It hurt too much. 

“Darling, where is Matty?” The pet name made your heart wrench, reminding you of him. The pit in your stomach just dug itself deeper, and it felt like a thousand knives were stabbing into you always. 

You shrug your shoulders, honestly not knowing where he was. Matty had called and called, texting you hundreds of times begging you to talk to him. By the second day, you had already switched off your phone, chucking into a corner, forgotten. 

“No one knows where he is, George is having a proper meltdown.” he continues, his voice slightly shaky, the anxiety in it evident. He tells you how they had tried his house, and it turning up empty. Mattys parents were away, and nobody knew how to get ahold of them. 

“Adam.” was all you could muster, not having spoken in days. The creak of the bed is deafening as you turn around to face him, looking up. “He..” your voice cracks, tears welling up in your eyes. 

“...he did something. Heroin.” you manage to finish your sentence before breaking out into tears again, clutching his arm. “He promised he wouldnt do it again.” the sound of Mattys voice filled your mind, broken promises and lies.

“I believed him.” you force out, your eyes pleading with Hann to say something. 

“Jesus Christ, are you serious?” The question is rhetorical. He knows. 

The day is spent with Adam comforting you through crying fits and feelings of blame, even bringing you water and food. 

You ask for a spliff, that being the only thing you knew would calm your nerves. Not having done anything else since your fight with Matty, you were starting to feel small symptoms of withdrawal. Cold sweat, dizziness, you had even thrown up once or twice into the bin next to your desk.

Hann, like the angel he is, pulls out a baggie of weed, rolling you a spliff. You ask him to open the window to let the smoke out, not quite in the mood for a hotbox. He obliges, and the warm air that is let into the room feels nice. The light helps too, letting you see the absolute state your room was in. 

The haze of the weed calms you down, your crying down to only silent tears rolling down your face as Adam tries to speak to you. You don't listen, his voice sounds distorted and far away. At some point, he gets up to leave, telling you to switch on your phone. When you don't react, he searches for it, finding it underneath a pile of clothes. Turning it on, he sets it onto the nightstand, pressing a comforting kiss to your forehead as the door closes behind him.

You were alone. 

With the spliff almost down to the filter, you chuck it into the rubbish, noticing Adam had cleared the vomit from it. It dwindles out, burning a small whole into the plastic of the fresh bin bag. Staring at the wall for what felt like an eternity, you hear your phone start to ring. 

You think it's Adam calling, making sure you were eating the sandwich he had made you, so you pick up, not bothering to look at the ID. The receiver picks up only silence for the first few seconds of the call, then heavy breaths fill your ears. Matty. 

Your heart jumps at the sound of him breathing on the other end of the line, dread filling you instantly. Something was wrong, you could feel it.

“I-'' he cuts himself off, a laboured groan leaving his lips. “I don't..” 

Something starts in you, and you jump to your feet. Eyes darting around the room to locate your keys, you tug your shoes on while holding the phone between your ear and shoulder. 

“Where are you?” you say, trying to remain calm. “Matty, where the fuck are you.” you repeat, your voice sounding more urgent. 

His answer is barely audible, but you understand. 

“I'm at Carolines..- please- I can't..” the line goes dead, the dial tone as loud as sirens in your head. 

You push past your mother, ignoring her requests to know where you're going. This wasn't the time, you had to get to him, now. 

You were never particularly athletic, always opting to cut P.E in favour of smoking a spliff behind the bushes with one George or Matty. Breathing heavily, you sprint down the street towards the old paper factory, dodging cars and people like it was an olympic sport.

Out of breath and sweaty, the last bolt up the flight of stairs leading to the terrace was difficult, your legs almost giving out on you multiple times. The door to the platform was already open when you finally made it to the top. 

Your heart stops when you see curls peeking out from the side of the sofa, falling limply over the material of the armrest. A soft groan echoes through the air, pained and tired. 

The sight of him will be burned into your mind until the day you die. Matty is half laying half sitting on the cushions, an old pillow holding him up, his skin deathly pale, even more so than usual. Tears run down his face, track marks littering the inside of his forearms. 

“I’m- i’m s-so sorry, I didn't-” his words are weak, still coming from a very bad high. You start to take care of him, just like you did in that bathroom all those weeks ago. The needle is still in his arm, dirty and used, he winces when you pull it out, chucking it off of the balcony. 

“We need to- you need help, Matty, I'm serious.” His eyes widen at your statement, his free hand reaching up to grab you. “P-please, don't call anyone.” he starts, visibly shaking. “I dont- i just want you.. no one else.” he’s scared. You've never seen him scared before, the fear visible on his face. 

“Just hold still, let me-” You have no experience in cleaning wounds of any kind, but you try your best, finding a pack of tissues in your bag, wiping down his arm. 

His hands are still shaking, and they feel cold to the touch. It breaks your heart to see him like this, scared and cold, not knowing what to do. 

“Please don't tell anyone.'' He forces the words out of his mouth, making eye contact with you. 

“I won't. But this is the last time.” you answer, stroking his upper arm comfortingly. He looks wrecked, dark circles under his eyes, hair obviously unwashed. He was wearing the same clothes he was when you last saw him

“Do you have anything else on you?” you ask, holding out your hand. You weren't letting him do this again. Never again. 

He nods, taking a kit out of his pocket. Inside, another needle, a spoon, and a small baggie. Taking it out of his hands, you walk over to the edge of the terrace, shaking the sandy coloured substance out onto the street, letting it fly into the wind to disappear. 

The needle was broken in two, also thrown over the edge of the terrace. Gone 

Matty let out soft groans as he moved to properly lay down, asking you to sit with him. You do, lowering yourself onto the ground next to the sofa, your hand reaching up to stroke his face. His tears still stream down his face, and you wipe them away, smiling at him. 

“I'm moving in with you.”

“I missed you.”

Both of you spoke at the same time, your voices overlapping. He raises his eyebrows at you, words forming in his mouth before dying. 

“Okay.” he nods, accepting your decision. 

“I’ve told Hann. We’re getting you clean, I don't care if you want to or not.” 

“Okay.” 

Silence 

“I love you.” the words slip out of your mouth, hitting him just as hard as they did you. He squeezes your hand, leaning down for a kiss. He doesn't say it back. The two of you sit there, staring into each other's eyes. Mattys breathing becomes more regular, and so do his pupils. 

“Don't do that ever again, please.” your voice is small, audibly shaking. 

“I won't.” a wave of deja vu washes over you

He won't. 

What are we?

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

“Fuck you are! You're not going anywhere” your mothers shrill voice pierces your ears, and you shake your head. Packing your things, you walked around grabbing the remaining clothes out of your wardrobe, stuffing them into a suitcase. 

Your mother had tried to stop you, but she couldn't. Having turned 18 a while ago, you were free to go wherever you pleased. Mattys house was already filled with a bunch of your stuff, and you had been sleeping over there more often than in your own bed. What was the difference?

“If you leave now, you're not my daughter anymore.” she said quietly, almost expectantly. 

You roll your eyes.

“Never really was, was I?” that was all you needed to say. All you've been wanting to say for years. Her eyes widen, and you turn around as the hurt spreads onto her face. 

The door shuts with a loud bang, the sound echoing through the neighbourhood. 

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

The days dragged by as Matty became more and more restless, making it entirely your problem. No amount of weed could calm him down, jittery and shaking. The itch was there for you as well, albeit not as strong as Mattys, who was close to crying by the looks of it. 

But he had promised you, and was intending to keep said promise even if it was extremely uncomfortable, the headache that was spread throughout his head wasn't helping either.

The two of you had spent the day in each other's arms, a blanket draped over you. The TV was quiet, the lights flickering over Mattys face softly as he pulled your lips into a firm kiss. 

‘What are we?’

You push the thought out of your head, letting yourself be kissed. His hand drew small circles onto the side of your arm, ever so often stopping to lightly pinch at the skin, making you jump. You felt his smile against your lips, the feeling only comparable to some sort of divinity. It was soft moments like these that made you forget everything else. The fighting, the drugs, the others.

You had called Hann, letting him know that you and Matty needed space. Withholding most details, like the state you had found him in, you assure him of Mattys wellbeing, stating “He’s going through it, but I've got it under control. Denise doesn't know, and don't tell her when she comes back.” His mother was set to make a return sometime in the next couple months, you overheard her tell Matty on the phone.  

The kiss deepens, with Matty attempting to slip his tongue into your mouth, and you let him. Since this started happening, it had always been you that had control of the situation, not letting him even get a taste of power before pushing him down, telling him to “Be good for me, yeah? I'll give you what you want, just…” 

His hand threads itself in your hair, and you gasp at the slight tug he gives it. The look in his eye when you finally glance up makes your breath hitch. Pupils completely blown out, he looks at you with an expression that can only be described as pure lust.

He pulls away for a split second, his eyes asking you a silent question. You nod.

Immediately, his hands are occupied with pushing your shirt up, hands palming your tits, and you feel rough calluses against your skin, making you moan. It seems like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room when he pressed a searing hot kiss onto your ribs, slowly working his way to run his tongue across your peaked nipple, making your back arch back into him. 

He lets out a low, almost animalistic groan as you grind against him, your hips rolling onto his steadily growing erection. A flicker of pride flashed through you at the thought of you being the reason he was worked up after a few kisses and a look. You smile, raking a hand through his hair as he kisses down your stomach, quickly stopping him before he could go and lower. 

“Can we switch?” you ask, batting your eyelashes, a faux innocent expression. He nods vigorously, letting you climb on top of him. 

The look he gave you when you started to grind down onto him is priceless, wide eyes and parted lips staring back at you. You kiss down his neck, leaving aggressive hickeys in your wake, marking him up. He adjusts underneath you, and you reach a hand up to his chest, raking your hand over the expanse of it. The nipple piercing catches your eye, the black metal almost shimmering in the light. 

“O-oh my go- fuckk-” his moans fill the air when you tug on it, a sharp pain reverberating through his body, and you feel him twitch against your leg. Your teeth find the piercing, biting down and pulling again, drinking in the noises he makes in response. Hands find his sides, thumbing at his ribs, trying to distract from the pain coming from his chest. 

“You want me?” you ask, smugly, seeing his expression rapidly change. He looks blissed out, and you haven't even properly touched him yet. The next words to come out of your mouth make his breath hitch and his hips buck upwards in desperation. 

“Want me to suck you off? I promise I'm good.” you mock his words, grinning at him in the same manner he did. The sight of you perched on top of him and your question almost made him cum in his pants, again. 

“P-please, i promise i won't touch- just.. please” his voice cracks as he says the last word, morphing into a drawn out moan, the sound going straight to your core. 

“But- i want you to get off first.” he never ceases to surprise you, his statement making you perk up, raising an eyebrow at him. “You can, you know..” he vaguely gestures at his thigh, eyes avoiding yours. A laugh escapes you when you realise what he meant, an extremely unsexy snort leaving your lips. 

“You want me to.. Seriously? Grind on your thigh?” he cringes at the way you say it, flexing his legs under you. “Well, yeah, you're pretty and I like to.. watch you?” he sounds unsure, like you're about to laugh at him again. The compliment takes you by surprise, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You don't speak anymore, instead sitting up straight, towering over him. Mattys breathing becomes even more irregular than it already was, his chest rising and falling up and down rapidly. “Okay, i'll do it.'' Your voice is breathless and small, but his reaction is thankful, hands finding your hips comfortingly.

Your fingers toy with the hem of Mattys shirt, which was now pulled back down. He nods, giving you permission to take it off of him, softly moaning as it brushes against his nipple, still sensitive and raw from your previous attack on his chest. 

Your lack of pants in the first place helped you settle onto his thigh comfortably, the shirt you had on covering most of you. You could feel his gaze on you, watching your every move. An experimental grind onto his jean-clad thigh made a spark of pleasure lick up your spine, a soft moan leaving your lips as you make eye contact with Matty. He urges you on, hands creeping up to cup your tits again, softer this time. 

You grind down harder, feeling a dull pleasure spread throughout your body. Matty lets out a quiet groan at the sight of you using him to get off, getting even harder than he thought possible. Speeding up, you settle into a distinct rhythm, your hips ever so slightly guided by Mattys hands resting on them. 

“You look so pretty like this.”

He sounds genuine, his eyes raking over your body with a look of adoration. You smile, letting out a moan as he tensed his thigh slightly, upping the pressure against your clit. Lowering down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, you can feel yourself get closer to the edge, Mattys tongue licking into your mouth only spurring you on. 

“Fuck- Matty.” you look down, seeing Mattys eyes still on you makes something ignite within you, the rubber band in your core tightening even more. His hands play with your nipples, thumbing at the skin, leaving light kisses on the back of your hand. His expression is sickly sweet, almost cocky. You cup his face, kissing him roughly as you feel yourself throttling towards your orgasm. 

A hand finds his cock, firmly palming him through his jeans, making him groan into your mouth. You can feel a wet patch forming on the front of his pants, soaking them with precum. A particularly pathetic moan and skilled twist of your nipple from Matty makes you fall apart on his thigh, legs shaking as you grind your way through your climax. 

Your breathing is heavy when you finally start to come down from your high, Matty jumpy and twitchy underneath you, watching you collect yourself. There's a wet patch on the front of his jeans where you had just been, perfectly matching the one he had caused all by himself. 

“Is this all f’me?” you ask, your hand stroking him through the material of his pants, watching him clench his fists at his side. You bat your eyelashes at him again, and he lets out a short string of please’s and begging. The sight in front of you is absolutely delicious, Matty panting and squirming, his curls sticking to his forehead.

“Relax for me baby, let me take care of you.” you coo, watching his reactions closely. He throws his head back, hitting the pillows as he lets out another loud groan. Your hand moves to the zipper of his jeans, slowly unbuttoning them. The tent in his boxers is obvious, his cock straining against the thin material.

Your nails graze his thigh, digging into the skin. You knew he liked a bit of pain to his pleasure, and you were going to give him just that. 

His hand finds your hair as you pull down his boxers, letting his erection spring out. Precum dribbled down the side, coating his cock in a layer of shine. Your hand wraps around him, giving him a light squeeze. The moan he lets out is heavenly, and you stroke up and down the length of him, thumbing his slit. He shudders, his hand tightening in your hair. 

“Please- do something.” you listen to him, reaching down to drag your tongue up the underside of his cock. Sputtering and moaning, he mutters out “T-thank you, fuck, thats so good.” 

You do the same again, taking him into your mouth. He feels heavy on your tongue, precum spilling out of the tip. 

“I’m not gonna last- i’m sorry I-” you cut him off with a graze of your teeth along the inside of his thigh. His thighs tense as your hand grasps the base of his cock, stroking what your mouth can't take. You bob your head, groans of pleasure leaving his lips as he bucks up into your mouth. He tries to apologise, and you tell him you’ll stop if he does that again. 

Nodding, he watches as your hand tugs at him, your bright nails a stark contrast to the leaking head of his cock. The sight is erotic, the way your red-rimmed mouth moves up and down his length, taking him deeper each time.

“I can’t- i’m going to-” he tries to pull you off of him, but you resist, instead speeding up your movements, desperately trying to bring him to the edge. Your eyes are watering and you can feel spit dripping down the side of your chin, but that didn't matter to you. You needed to feel Matty come undone in your mouth, and you were so close.

He whined, bucking up into your mouth, biting back yet another apology. 

“F-fuck-” is your only warning before he spills into yor mouth, hot ropes of cum painting the back of your throat. His hand never left your hair, gripping onto it for dear life as you worked him through his orgasm. 

Sticking out your tongue to show off what he had done, Matty screws his eyes shut at the sight, a groan leaving his parted lips. You swallow.

“That was.. So fucking good.” you giggle at the praise, crawling up to kiss him deeply. He can taste himself on your tongue, moaning softly into the kiss. You reach down to play with the piercing on his chest. The sounds he made were too heavenly to make you stop. 

The hickeys you had sucked into the skin of his neck and chest made you gawk at him, admiring your work. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he smirks at you, cocky. You take out the camera you kept in your bag, which was conveniently sitting on the glass table adjacent to the sofa. Angling the camera so you could capture everything, the flash goes off three separate times. It blinds him the first time, making his eyes shut at the light. 

The second picture is better, with Matty looking at you instead of the camera, a provocative grin spread onto his face. He was always a sucker for attention, absolutely relishing in it. The picture perfectly caught the deep purple of the marks you had left on him, contrasting his pale skin perfectly. 

The third picture though, was your favourite. Your hand had made its way to his nipple, pulling at the piercing right before snapping the photo. His face contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure, mouth slightly open with his eyes almost fully closed. He sure was a sight for sore eyes, the expression igniting a fire in you. 

Leaning down to kiss him, you chuck the camera somewhere behind you, hearing it hit cushions on the other end of the sofa. The moment was soft, tender, like a fond memory. 

One thing ruined it all. A nagging feeling at the back of your mind you just couldn't calm.

"What are we?" 

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

It had taken days of convincing to get Matty to go with you. Ross and Adam had invited you to dinner, and George was also going to be there. He was reluctant to go, not wanting to face any of them. After hours of pleading and a makeout session, you stood by the door and watched as he put his shoes on. 

 You both walked hand in hand down the street, taking a shortcut through an old junkyard. Hann was probably just as nervous as Matty was to see him again, and you told him as much. Matty just shrugged, eyes glued to the ground in front of him. 

The ring of the doorbell as you pressed it made him finally look up. Ross answered, eyes softening and he saw you both. He pulled you in for a hug, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Matty was twitchy and frankly, scared, to see everyone again. The way he had acted made him cringe inwardly. 

“Hey Matty.” Ross spoke as he pulled him in for one of his big man hugs. Matty hugged him back, finally smiling. It was okay, everything was going to be okay. 

The conversation had been hard at first, with Hann going on his ‘drugs are bad for you’ rant again. Matty sat and listened, and so did you, squeezing his hand under the table when Adam finally finished, getting up to put on the kettle.

George was sitting on the couch, eyeing you as you went to plop next to him. Everything seemed normal, except for Hann’s incessant rambling and checking if everything was alright, which was pretty regular now that you really thought about it. 

The night was spent laughing and watching Pulp Fiction on the telly. It felt like old times, before everything had gone to shit. You smile fondly at the memories of Matty and Ross almost killing each other over trivial games of FIFA, clawing at each other until Hann finally pulled them apart. 

You watch the others, absolutely engrossed in the movie, with soft munching coming from the direction of Ross and his bag of prawn cocktail crisps. He had an obsession with the flavour, reluctant to try anything else. George had even offered him a tenner to swap with him his cheese flavoured ones, and he flat out refused. 

The night was calm, with you leaning against Mattys chest for the majority of the movie. You felt his breathing and heartbeat in his chest, it calmed you. Everything felt alright, and you could feel your eyes droop closed. The last thing you remember was Mattys hand stroking your hip lightly as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, breathing in the scent of his cologne.   

[vanteguccir]

Wisdom Teeth Chaos | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N faces the terrifying experience of having four wisdom teeth removed. With her boyfriend, Matt, and his brothers by her side, Y/N goes through moments of anxiety, laughter, and confusion under the influence of anesthesia.

Warning: Mentions of blood, pain, surgery, dentist, anesthesia.

Requested?: Yes, by anon

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The sun shone high in the sky as Y/N and Matt got into the car, ready to face the journey to the dentist's office.

"You're going to be okay, honey." Matt said as he arranged himself in the driver's seat, casting a quick glance of genuine concern in his girlfriend's direction, who spent the entire morning glued to himself, exposing her fear into emotions and complaints.

Y/N smiled small, buckling her seatbelt and moving her body above the upholstered so she found a comfortable position, trying to shake off the bad thoughts about the surgery.

"I hope so, but I can't promise I won't put on a little show in there." The girl joked, trying to relax the atmosphere, resting her hands on her thighs so that her slightly sweaty palms were in contact with the fabric of her jeans.

"I doubt you're the worst patient they've ever seen." The boy laughed as he started the car, turning his head to his right and sending her a wink.

Nick and Chris quickly settled into the middle seats of the car, each of them with a reassuring smile on their face. Nick held the camera firmly in his hands, lowering his gaze to the screen and changing a few settings.

They were like brothers to Y/N, and their presence there was comforting for her.

“Ready for the adventure, Y/N?” Chris asked with a mischievous smile, rubbing the palm of his hands before leaning his body forward and placing his upper body on the car console so that he could see the girl's reaction more closely, placing his right hand on the back of her seat to stabilize himself.

A loud curse from Nick was heard, the boy complaining that Chris was blocking the camera's view before forcefully pulling him back against his own seat.

"If by adventurous you mean a terrifying one, then yes." The girl sighed, ignoring their bickering while pretending to be excited before closing her eyes tightly, pressing the bridge of her nose with the index finger and thumb of her right hand, trying to relieve some of the tension there.

During the first few minutes of the trip, Y/N tried to remain calm, but anxiety began to seep into her chest, leaving a metallic taste in her mouth. She looked at the clock on the car dashboard and saw that there were still twenty minutes until they arrived at the office, even though it seemed like they had already been inside the car for hours.

"Matt, I changed my mind. Can we go home?" Y/N interrupted Chris's yapping from the backseat, her voice trembling slightly as her hands balled into fists above her thighs, a result of her nervousness.

Matt glanced at her quickly before returning his attention to the road ahead, taking his right hand off the steering wheel briefly and moving it towards his girl, reaching blindly for her own, intertwining their fingers and giving hers a firm and comforting squeeze.

"You're kidding, right? We're already halfway there, my love. Look, it's going to be okay. I promise." The brunette murmured gently, trying to calm her nerves as he kept his attention on the road, frowning slightly in concentration.

"I know, it's just... I hate dentists so much, and I don't know if I want to take anesthesia." The girl admitted, shrugging her shoulders as she forced a small smile, squeezing Matt's hand back.

"Don't worry, girl, we'll be in the room with you the entire time." Nick said from the backseat, his voice sounding comforting, interrupting whatever negative thoughts Y/N's mind was creating at that moment, earning a weak nod in response.

The minutes dragged by slowly as the car made its way down the road. Y/N tried to distract herself by looking out the window, but the sight of buildings and businesses quickly passing by only increased her agitation.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do with your wisdom teeth after they're removed?" Chris asked suddenly, interrupting the tense silence as he kept his eyes fixed on the scenery outside the vehicle.

Y/N blinked, surprised by the sudden question.

"Well, I thought I'd ask the doctor to keep them for me. Maybe I could make a necklace-" The girl interrupted her own sentence, widening her eyes and turning her torso to her left side abruptly, gripping the side of her own seat with her right hand so that she could look at the back and the driver's seat at the same time. "No, wait, I can put it under my pillow, right?" The volume of her voice rose quickly, sudden excitement dripping into her words.

"Pillow? Why would-"

"For the tooth fairy, obviously! I'm going to remove four wisdom teeth. Do you know how much money I could make from that? I don't, but I know it's a lot!" She rambled, breaking into a big smile as her eyes went from Matt to Nick and Chris and back again.

"It's 40 dollars, Y/N." Nick responded in an amused tone, turning to Chris and letting out a silent laugh. The youngest shrugged, leaning over the space between one seat and another and taking the camera from Nick's hands.

"They can't give your teeth back, honey. When they take them out, your teeth turn to dust." Matt said as if he was speaking to a child, a hidden smile growing on his face as he kept his eyes straight ahead, raising them momentarily to the rearview mirror and casting an amused glance at Nick, who was already looking back at him, knowing he was joking.

"No! Babe, don't say that. Are you serious?" Y/N screamed, her eyes widening comically before tears began to well up in her eyes, shining against the sunlight, her mouth forming an involuntary pout.

"Oh no, don't cry. If you cry, I'll cry, too." Nick noticed her tearful expression, closing his eyes tightly and bringing the palm of his hands to his own, rubbing his blue orbs harshly, trying to shake off his own emotions.

"Oh no, Nick, don't you dare cry-" Chris's voice was interrupted by a loud sob coming from Y/N, which tore from her throat, tears escaping her eyes without permission.

Her ears quickly caught the loud laughter of Matt and Chris, and Nick's sniffles, while her boyfriend squeezed her hand tightly, trying to convey support and reassurance even though he was laughing at her sensitive state.

As they got closer to the office, Y/N's heart started to beat faster. She felt a mixture of fear and excitement bubbling inside her and knew that soon she would be facing the inevitable.

"I think I'm having a panic attack." The girl murmured, her voice muffled by the crying she had minutes before as her nose sniffled repeatedly.

"No, you're not." Matt said amused, rolling his eyes playfully before squeezing Y/N's hand one last time, slowly releasing it and taking his back to the wheel so that he could concentrate on entering the building's parking lot, parking the car in one of the free spaces closest to the main entrance.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she exited the vehicle with the help of her boyfriend. She knew she had a long road ahead, but with Matt and the triplets by her side, she felt like she could face the situation she had put off for so many weeks. And so, with one last sigh, she entered the office.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was already in the dental chair, nervously looking up at the white ceiling as the doctor prepared everything around her. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as her hands sweated nervously. Matt caressed her right shoulder firmly and carefully, conveying the silent support she needed so much at that moment.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Matt asked, tilting his head down so he could look better at her.

"Of course I am." She responded, swallowing hard, trying to force a smile while focusing her eyes on his, though her voice betrayed her anxiety.

Nick and Chris were a little further away, on her right side and close to the large wall of windows, their expressions a mixture of concern and unsuccessful attempts to hide their laughter. The fact that Nick knew what the feeling and procedure was like made him more amused by her present and future state.

As the doctor began moving equipment, Y/N watched curiously. She extended her right arm, allowing one of the nurses to attach the blood pressure and heart rate monitor to the correct location, feeling a shiver run down her spine. This was getting very real very fast.

"I feel like an astronaut about to take off." Y/N teased, biting her bottom lip lightly, trying to ease the tension out of herself.

"Well, at least there's no zero gravity to deal with." Nick chuckled softly, zooming the camera to the surrounding equipment before looking at the girl, offering her a reassuring smile.

Chris let out a laugh at his response, it echoing through the office and bringing a bit of lightness to the tense environment.

"I hate that sound. It reminds me of Grey's Anatomy, exactly when a patient is about to die." The girl said suddenly, pointing with her chin at the machine where the sounds of her heart were coming from.

"Hey, don't say that." Matt warned amid laughter, shaking his head while still caressing her shoulder, squeezing the area gently to relieve her muscle tension.

As the doctor began to prepare the IV, Y/N felt a wave of panic pass through her body. She looked at the thin tube with wide eyes and an expression of horror, watching him take off the cover and connect the wire to the syringe with the anesthesia.

"Matt." She muttered in a shaky voice, her lips trembling again as she clenched her right hand into a fist, accidentally letting the heart rate meter slip out.

"Hey, pretty girl, I'm right here. I won't leave your side, I promise. When you wake up, we can get ice cream from that ice cream shop you love, huh?" Matt curved his spine slightly so that his face was close to hers, holding her chin with his free hand and pulling it towards him, looking deep into his girl's eyes.

Chris quickly moved forward, taking her best friend's right hand gently and arranging the meter back into its correct place.

The doctor finished preparing the IV and approached Y/N with it, extending the girl's left arm gently and cleaning the injection site. Y/N forced herself to keep her eyes fixed on the blue ones she loved, Matt quickly acting to cover the exposed side of her head with the palm of his free hand, creating a covering over her eyes.

The girl her breath as the doctor inserted the needle into her vein, feeling it enter centimeter by centimeter, but to her surprise, it didn't hurt as much as she expected.

"It's not that bad." The girl murmured seconds after feeling the needle not moving anymore, feeling a little relieved, blinking repeatedly in an attempt to keep the tears away.

"See? You're doing so good, my love. My brave girl." Matt smiled big, tilting his face forward and kissing her forehead gently.

As the anesthesia began to take effect, Y/N felt a tingling sensation spread throughout her body. She blinked a few times, trying to get used to the strange sensation and regain her vision, which was becoming slightly blurred.

"When did the ceiling start dancing?" Y/N asked, interrupting what Nick was reporting to the camera, her eyes fixed on the ceiling that seemed to be moving erratically.

Matt laughed softly, his hand - still on his girlfriend's shoulder - shook slightly from the action, being followed by Chris and Nick, their laughter filling the office.

"I think the anesthesia is taking effect." Chris watched in amusement, crossing his arms and approaching, his voice sounding a little distant to the girl's ears.

Y/N laughed, feeling lighter than ever, blinking slowly.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm really enjoying it." She said groggily, her voice sounding sleepy as she gave in to the anesthesia.

"Baby-" Matt began, his speech being interrupted by his own laughter, his index and thumb fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief. "What's your word, love?"

But the answer didn't come, his girlfriend having given herself over to a deep anesthesia-induced sleep.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N blinked her eyes slowly, trying to focus her vision as the haze of sleep began to dissipate. She felt groggy and disoriented, but a sense of relief washed over her body when she understood that the surgery was over. She blinked a few times, trying to take in her surroundings.

“Hi, Y/N, how are you feeling?” Nick asked in a calm tone, leaning closer to her with a gentle smile, giving space for the camera in Chris' hands to capture the moment.

Y/N turned her head towards him, blinking slowly, her mind still clouded trying to assimilate that it was Nick there with her.

"As if I'd been run over by an elephant." She murmured, her voice sounding strangely loud to her own ears, shaking her head from side to side as fast as she could, trying to stay conscious.

Matt entered the room again, having gone away for some minutes to talk to the doctor about post-surgical care, his serious face lighting up when he noticed Y/N already awake.

"Look who's back! Are you okay, sweetheart?" The boy asked, extending out his hand and reaching for hers, holding it tenderly and firmly, stroking the back of her palm with his thumb.

"I-" As soon as Y/N opened her mouth to speak, one of the gauze that sealed the right side of her mouth above her gums escaped her lips. Her eyes instantly widened, a loud sound of surprise echoing through the room. "Oh no, my tongue fell out."

"Your-" Chris began, his own laughter interrupting his sentence.

Matt turned to the camera, laughing loudly as he closed his eyes tightly, keeping his hand on his girlfriend's shoulder, trying to hide his own reaction from her.

"That's not your tongue, baby." The brunette said while still laughing, shaking his head.

"It is! They made my tongue fall out and removed my cheeks." The girl fumed, rolling her eyes nervously as she tried to cross her arms, the loud alarm sound echoing from the heart rate meter machine abruptly interrupting her action.

"Y/N, you can't take out the meter." Nick warned in a firm tone, arranging the small equipment back on her finger with his free hand.

"I'm sweating, I need to take this off. It's making me overheat." The girl spoke again, ignoring the demanding tone Nick was using, waving her arm with the IV in the air, silently indicating that she was talking about her hoodie.

"But you love wearing hoodie, pretty." Matt murmured, frowning as he leaned over her upper body, lowering her arm gently.

"Not this one! I like yours. Mine is a piece of shit." Y/N exclaimed as if it was obvious, rolling her eyes again.

The sound of Nick's loud laughter echoed off the walls of the small room, as Matt stared at her in disbelief, widening his eyes and taking them from his girl to the camera and back again.

"Here, baby." The boy sighted, taking his hand off Y/N's shoulder momentarily so that he could pull his own hoodie up, passing the piece over his arms before arranging it on the correct side, leaving his own upper body covered only by a white t-shirt. "You can have mine."

Matt stretched the hoodie over Y/N's upper body, keeping it over her own hoodie, knowing he wouldn't be able to take it off due to the IV.

"Thank you, kind sir." Y/N genuinely thanked him, opening a big and childlike smile. "Oh no, take this one off and put yours on me, Matty." She spoke again seconds later after noticing that her boyfriend's hoodie was just resting on her body.

“No way, Y/N, you have the IV.” Chris answered for Matt, briefly pointing to his best friend's left arm.

"What... Wow, what is this? Am I a toy or something?" The girl's tone came out louder than expected, her eyes widening comically as she raised her arm again, seeming to remember just at that moment the small thread that connected the needle to the anesthesia.

"It's the IV, my love. It's harmless, I promise. Does it hurt?" Matt explains gently, leaning into her slightly and squeezing her shoulder gently, drawing her attention back to him.

"No... Are they gonna fix my tongue?" Y/N returned to the first subject in a matter of seconds, lowering her gaze and focusing on the piece of blood red gauze above, now, Matt's hoodie.

"That's not your tongue, Y/N. It's just gauze. Put it back." Nick spoke this time, zooming in on the camera to catch his best friend's next reaction.

"I can't do it. There's an electrical wire connected to me." The girl remembered, rolling her eyes and raising her IV-covered arm, focusing her eyes there for a few seconds.

"Then ask your boyfriend."

"I have a boyfriend?!" Y/N turned her face towards the triplets abruptly, her eyes filling with tears within seconds as her lips trembled comically, even though she herself had been calling Matt "baby" this entire time.

"Of course you do, sweet girl. I'm right here. Remember? I'm your boyfriend, Matt." Matt quickly responded, his tone coming out as gentle as never before. He crouched on the floor, resting on his bent knees so that he was at eye level with her, giving her a genuine smile.

"Oh my God, that's awesome! You're so pretty. How did I manage to win you?" Y/N asked excitedly, raising her right hand and bringing it to her supposed boyfriend's face, cupping his right cheek lightly, feeling the skin heat up beneath her fingers.

A sound of surprise escaped Matt's lips as the heart rate monitor preacher almost stabbed into his eye, a low chuckle following soon after.

"You didn't have to win me, I was the one that had to win you, babe." The boy declared, leaning closer to her and sealing the tip of her nose for long seconds, pulling away in time to see her close her eyes and wrinkle her nose cutely. "We'll go home soon, okay? I love you, sweetheart. You were so brave."

"You love me?" Y/N exclaimed again, the tears that had been in her eyes until that moment finally spilling over and rolling down her cheeks, leaving a wet, red trail behind, her skin reacting instantly to the intense emotions.

"I do, my love. I love you very much."

Nick and Chris watched the scene with eyes full of amusement, the camera capturing every second of the couple's interaction and the muffled laughs that the two emitted behind the lens.

"So, are you comfortable on that "chair"?" Chris asked suddenly, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

Y/N snapped her head towards the youngest, opening her mouth slightly and processing his question for a few seconds.

"Yeah." The girl nodded slowly, removing her right hand from Matt's face and feeling the upholstery of the chair beneath her.

"Is it better than my gaming chair?" Nick asked then, smiling behind the camera, briefly remembering the times his best friend found refuge in his room and the two spent hours talking while she sat comfortably in his gaming chair.

"Do you have a chair?" She asked with wide eyes, tilting her head up to see Nick better, slightly pushing Matt to the side with her free hand, earning a laugh from Chris when he saw his brother almost fall completely onto the cold floor.

"Yeah, you have one, too! And so does Matt."

"I have a chair? For myself?" Her lips formed an involuntary pout, her eyes filling with tears again, the previous ones having stopped flowing only seconds before, her emotions acting on their own.

"Of course you do, baby! You study on it and play video games on my computer on it, too." Matt stated, nodding quickly as he returned to his previous position. "Now, do you remember who I am?"

Y/N turned her gaze back to Matt again, her orbs traveling over every detail of his face, her lower lip trembling slightly as her heart clenched tightly inside her chest. He was so beautiful.

"My baby, my baby-" A sob interrupted her speech, tears escaping her eyes like waterfalls. "You're my baby. I love you s-so much. You're- You're so p-pretty!"

"Yeah, sweet girl! Well done, I'm your baby, and I love you way more." The brunette replied in a bashful tone, pouting as he watched her cry like a little kid over something so simple, his own eyes welling with tears.

"You two are unbelievable." Chris shook his head, crossing his arms and looking into the camera lens with a look of "do you believe this?"

"Matty." The girl called again a few seconds later, ignoring the youngest of the triplets, closing her eyes tightly to wipe away the tears stuck in her eyelashes, her nose sniffling repeatedly. She took a deep breath and sticked her swollen tongue out of her mouth, trying to lick the tears that rested on her upper lip, even without feeling absolutely anything in the region. "I think my mouth is on it's period..."

"Oh my God, baby, what?"

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My requests are closed, but my asks are always open ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @watermelonreid @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @iammattswife @xoxo4chrisss @imtalkinnonsense

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

(If you asked to be on the taglist but isn't tagged above, it's because you have set up your account to not be tagged by accounts that don't follow you back/you don't follow)

[wordsarelife]

—gorgeous

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: being in love with your best friend might be a bad idea, but drowning your sorrows in alcohol might be your worst one yet

warnings: underage drinking, partying, no usage of y/n, a few suggestive remarks

notes: this is my official entry for the hogmarch challenge of @thatdammchickennugget using prompt 2: “are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?”

the night was rushing fast away in front of your eyes, easy chatter, at the start of the party, quickly turning into drunken singing and shouting along to the music that was drowning out everything else.

the dim blue light that was shining through the ravenclaw common room did it‘s best to worsen the drunken state many of your classmates were in.

mattheo was sitting on a couch, wearing his usual cool demeanour and being surrounded by his friends. they were known for getting a bit drunk, but never making an embarrassment out of themselves through loud singing or obnoxious dancing.

and normally you were known for sitting right next to them and doing the same.

even though it was dark, you could see mattheo's head turn and his eyes searching the crowd for you. you had excused yourself to get something to drink. that had been over ten minutes ago and you were really debating to just go to bed.

the night had turned out differently than you had expected and you weren't really in the mood to act like it hadn't.

"someone is looking for you" a voice behind you said and you turned around startled.

"harry" you said relieved when you recognized the boy.

it wasn't like the two of you were friends, after all you were coming from vastly different groups, but since a project in astronomy you had become acquaintances, sometimes sharing a few nice words at parties.

"why are you standing here all alone? why aren't you with your friends?"

"why aren't you?" you shot back, making harry quirk an eyebrow.

"well played" he complimented and smiled "i was trying to get away from dean and ginny making out"

"ouch" it wasn't really a well known fact that harry fancied ginny, but you had noticed it right away a few parties ago and he had been able to read you well enough to know that you had known.

"it's alright" he shrugged "i just don't want to sit next to it"

"who would?" you asked sarcastically as you eyes fell on the couple, hungrily making out on the couch, successfully pushing seamus off.

it seemed that a few people felt way too comfortable in the ravenclaw common room.

"oi, it's no fun with these two" seamus complained, sympathetically hitting harry's shoulder on the way to the table with the drinks.

"back to you" harry grinned, seemingly uncomfortable with talking about his secret crush on ginny weasley more than necessary "why are you avoiding riddle? i thought you two were the best of friends"

"i'm not avoiding him" you said defensively, taking a big gulp from the vodka in your cup to prevent yourself from saying any more.

harry took a moment to study your facial expression, before he sighed in a tone that almost made you tear up "oh"

"no" you shook your head "no 'oh', stop looking at me like that, potter"

harry laughed dryly "too late" he shrugged "so, being the best of friends is your actual problem, huh?"

you didn't answer his question, but took another sip from the cup. immediately regretting it.

harry cringed "if you continue drinking at that rate you won't be able to speak a coherent sentence in a few minutes"

"maybe i don't want to speak coherent sentences anymore"

"so we're already at the point of drowning our sorrows in alcohol?" he raised his cup and took a sip "no, you're right, it doesn't look like you're unluckily in love with riddle at all"

you sighed "okay, fine, you're obviously smarter than you look" you rolled your eyes.

"well, ouch" harry said offended, but you could see a hint of mischief in his eyes. "am i allowed to join your little club of self-pity?"

"sure" you nodded "the more the merrier i guess"

"there's no better way to spend a party than drown yourself in self-pity with the girl you're kind of on good terms with"

"yeah, totally" you grinned "but i think if we continue talking at that rate we will be able to call each other friends in an hour"

"deal" harry laughed, before he grabbed the bottle of vodka on the table behind you, filling both your own and his cup back up. he put the bottle back and held his cup in your direction "to unrequited love" he said dramatically.

you grimaced, but raised your cup to clink against his. "to unrequited love" you toasted "and unexpected friendships" you added.

"yeah that too" he smiled before you both took a big sip from your cups.

"vodka is fucking disgusting" you complained and harry nodded, making a face that would allow the assumption that he had been thinking the same thing.

"at least it does the trick"

you and harry spend the next hour recklessly sipping vodka, while you were telling each other ridiculous stories. the vodka had a quicker effect than either of you had thought, making the both of you dance and refer to each other as friends sooner than you had predicted.

just as 'dancing queen' began to play and you were twirling on the dancefloor, did you notice the empty spot on the couch occupied by your friends. there was only one of them missing. before it could really register in your brain who exactly was missing, a voice rang out next to you.

"make room, potter" you and harry both turned around, looking surprised at the arrival of mattheo riddle.

"matty" you laughed after the few seconds it had taken you to recognize your best friend.

mattheo's arm darted to the side, catching you before you could fall to the ground. you had made the attempt to hug him, missing his body by a few feet. you had been closer to hugging cormac mclaggen who was standing off to the side.

"there you are" mattheo noted, gently taking your cup out of your hand, sniffing the contents and grimacing at the strong sent of vodka, mixed with a bit of orange juice.

"do you want some?" you slurred, grinning up at the boy, who's arm was still holding you steady.

"how many of these has she had?" mattheo asked harry, thinking he would be a little less wasted than you.

"like thirty-four thousand?" harry answered before him and you broke into simultaneous laughter.

"had to have been a lot" mattheo muttered, noticing the way you were laughing with the chosen one, gripping his arm, like you were old friends.

he let go of you, taking harry's cup as well, emptying the both into the bucket under the table with the drinks. he came back right in time to witness you saying goodbye to harry with a dramatic hug, kissing both his cheeks and lastly his forehead.

"yeah, that's enough" mattheo said, dragging your body back against his when he noticed you going in to plant more kisses on harry's face. he looked bad enough, the red lipstick you were wearing leaving marks all over his face.

harry smiled before he waved at you and turned around, stumbling through the crowd of students probably in search of his redheaded best friend.

mattheo rolled his eyes. "you're absolutely wasted, darling"

you turned around to look at him and unconsciously bring a bit of space between the both of you "is it that obvious?" you asked.

mattheo watched with a smirk, how you tried to balance yourself out, to just be able to stand. your arm ended up stabilizing your own hip and you almost fell full on to the side, when you moved your leg.

"not really" mattheo grinned "come on, baby" he softly gripped your waist on either side, guiding you in the direction of your friends. you closed your eyes, leaning your head against his shoulder, letting him walk you through the room willingly.

"have i ever told you how gorgeous you are?"

"i am?" he asked laughing.

"so gorgeous that it hurts"

"you're flattering me" he smiled, nudging your arm. "but maybe you should concentrate more on walking in the right direction"

he was right. it was taking you way too long to cross the room, thanks to your inability to still walk in a straight line, even with his help.

"hey" mattheo greeted, making the eyes of his friends turn on him. "i'm bringing her to bed"

"already?" enzo asked skeptically, checking his watch "it's only two a.m."

"hey guys!" you greeted when your eyes snapped open. you bend forward, plastering a kiss onto enzo’s cheek. "how the party you doing? good? good!" you smiled, nodding as your eyes fell closed, as you leaned back onto mattheo again.

"what?" theo laughed at your slurred words that had not made the slightest bit of sense.

"yeah, i get it now" enzo nodded understandingly, trying to rub your lipstick off his cheek.

"she's only been gone for an hour" blaise said unbelievingly "how did she get that drunk?"

"she's had approximately like more than a thousand vodka-o's according to potter" mattheo chuckled.

"potter?" draco repeated disgustingly "what has she been doing with potter?"

"harry and i are best friends" you gushed, giving draco an angry look. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, but without questioning your answer.

"let's not get ahead of ourselves, love" mattheo argued, a bit of jealousy in his voice.

"you don't have to be jealous" you softly touched his cheek "you know i love you more than anyone, honey"

blaise let out a loud whistling noise "seems likes she's your girl after all, riddle"

"oh shut up" mattheo said at the same time as you said "of course"

"better bring her to bed now" theo advised and you could feel mattheo nod next to you.

"i'll be back in a few minutes" mattheo promised, as he softly turned you around to be able to walk you in the direction of the door.

"no he won't" you slurred, turning your head in the direction your friends, gripping mattheo's neck and winking at them.

enzo hollored and theo laughed, while blaise repeated the whisteling.

"cheers to that" even draco was amused about you, as he raised his cup in your direction.

"i'll be back" mattheo assured again, pushing you forward.

"no you won't" theo shook his head, smirking as he watched his friend roll his eyes and gently guide you through the crowd.

"how about a shot of tequila?" you suggested to mattheo, perfectly awake again. there was no hint of the tiredness that had consumed your body only a few minutes ago.

maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the sound of a familiar voice indicating the beginning of the song 'whatta man' by salt-n-pepa, which was now booming through the boxes.

"no, no more alcohol" mattheo shook his head, suddenly being the kind of responsible he had never seen himself to become.

"oh my god!" you gushed when you finally reconized the song "that's my favorite song! let us dance, matty!"

he was distracted by two hufflepuff boys almost running into him, when you saw the perfect opportunity to escape his hold. stupidly enough, that was the only thing you could see, as you had promptly gotten lost in the crowd of people.

mattheo was at your side only a second after, making you realize that you had in fact just turned around, without moving more than a feet away from him.

"if you don't come with me on your own accord, i'll have to carry you" mattheo warned.

you giggled, clasping your hands around his biceps "let us dance" you pleaded, completely ignoring what he had said.

mattheo furrowed his eyebrows, still waiting for you to reply to what he had said, but you were busy watching a few ravenclaws and hufflepuffs downing shots. "or we could down some shots" you mumbled.

mattheo took that as answer enough, clasping one of his hands around your forearm and the other around your leg, as he bend down to throw you over his shoulder.

"matty" you protested, as he began to walk you out of the common room. you gave up arguing and continued to sing along to the chorus of 'whatta man' as mattheo walked you both through the crowd of people.

as soon as the door to the ravenclaw common room fell close behind the two of you, you slumped down on mattheo's shoulder, the tiredness hitting you immediately.

"do you want to walk on your own now, baby?" mattheo asked, but he could feel you shake your head. "can you use you words?" he was growing a bit concerned at your sudden mood shift, trying to make sure that you were still somewhat alright.

"no" you pouted "i don't want to use my words"

"you just did"

"i never let a man tell me what to do" you slurred and mattheo had to chuckle.

"clearly" he muttered under his breath.

he walked through the halls of the castle quickly, making sure that you wouldn't be discovered by one of the teachers. you would probably kill him if one of them saw you like this. you never really got that drunk often, so it was on mattheo to make sure that no one found out about it now.

he should've searched for you immediately after you hadn't come back. he shouldn't have waited an hour. but he was scared of annoying you. you were always together and he had taken your absence as a sign for you needing some space.

if he could, he would follow you around all the time, preferably holding your hand while doing so. maybe in another universe you would want him to do that.

"when are we there?" you asked, your hand wandering across his shoulder, before it finally found it's place in his hair, gripping it tightly.

"any second now" mattheo was trying to make sure not to shake your body too much, as he quickly walked down the steps to the dungeon. he wouldn't want you to throw up. "do you feel sick, sweetheart?"

"no" you muttered "i just want to sleep"

"i know, i know" mattheo patted the back of your leg "we're almost at the door"

he hadn't lied. it only took a few more seconds, before he whispered the password and the door to the slytherin common room opened, revealing the familiar green lighting as he walked you both inside. he crossed the room, climbing the stairs to your dorm.

he took his time to set you down on your bed, making sure that no quick movement could make you feel uncomfortable. he unfolded your blanket, spreading it across your body.

he was ready to leave the room, before you called him back.

"matty" you cried and he perked up, walking back to the bed. you threw the blanket to the side dramatically, revealing your trousers and shirt. "i can't sleep like this"

"oh" mattheo said dumbfounded "do you want me to take them off?" he asked slowly, gripping the waistband of your trousers.

"are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?" you giggled at the joke with your eyes still closed.

"you're really that drunk" mattheo answered, rolling his eyes at your unseriousness "and it's not funny"

"it's a bit funny" you opened your eyes and giggled at his facial expression "why are you so serious, matty?"

"i should've kept an eye on you" he answered "you don't like to be drunk"

"i can make my own decisions" you argued, crossing your arms.

"obviously" mattheo nodded "should i take them off?" he repeated his question from earlier, but the tone of his voice made you sober up immediately, well at least a bit.

"are you really angry at me right now?" you asked surprised.

"i had to leave the party to bring you to bed"

"that's not the reason you're angry" you said, knowing him well enough to see through his lie.

"okay, fine" he sat down on the bed and you sat up, drawing your knees to your chest and hugging them with your arms. "maybe i'm a bit angry that you would rather spend your evening getting drunk with potter than speaking to me"

"matty"

"no, it's fine" he shook his head "i shouldn't be angry about how you choose to spend your time. goodnight" he stood up from the bed, walking to the door quickly, so voice rang out before he was able to twist the doorknob.

"can you please just stay?" you asked and he turned around in surprise.

"what?"

"maybe i chose to spend time with harry, but i'm choosing to spend the night with you. isn't that more important?"

"that's not how it works"

"okay, fine" you said, tired of arguing "do you want to know the truth? spending time with you is super hard while i'm madly in love with you" even though you were a bit more sober than before, he could still recognize the drunkness in your voice, especially because you were never that bold.

"madly in love with me, huh?" mattheo repeated surprised, his signature smirk immediately replacing the frown on his face.

“it’s embarrassing, i know” you buried your face in your hands, hiding your rosy cheeks from his eyes. he softly took your hands in his, freeing your face of them.

"don't hide from me" he smiled "and it’s not embarrassing, because the truth is, that i'm madly in love with you too"

you smiled up at him. “can you kiss me then?” he smiled at your question, but shook his head.

“no more kisses tonight” he muttered, softly stroking your hair “we can do that tomorrow, as often as you want to, when you’re sober again”

“okay” you nodded.

he gently helped you to exchange your trousers for pyjama bottoms, before he took of his shirt and climbed into bed next to you. you cuddled close to his chest, your hair tickling him whenever you moved.

"blaise was right" you said finally "i'm your girl after all"

"you always were" mattheo whispered back, softly kissing your forehead, before the both of you fell asleep, holding onto each other.

[justanamesstuff]

Chapter 5

Seasons

Matty Healy x f!reader A/N: And one day she uploaded the fifth chapter! I'm very happy to bring you guys this new chapter I had fun writing and editing...it's full of emotions but so am I. I also want to thank you all for patience and understanding while I'm going through this difficult time of my life, i really dont know where i will be without your unconditional love and support!! Please let me know what you think and what you expect for this tangled story <333 love you lots! Warnings: ANGST, anxiety, so many feelings...fluff, cuteness, surprises, typos. Word count: 8.2 K

MASTERLIST TAGLIST

< Chapter 4

Few weeks later, LA

Matty felt the mild temperature on the air caressing his cheeks as he opened the door of his rented car at the airport. Denise and some of her friends were supposed to step out of the big doors in only minutes. Trying to be a good son, he offered himself without being asked. One because he wanted to see his mother and, two, because staying at home with Hann’s eyes following around all the time was driving the frontman insane. They had been going through a weird phase after the talk involving Matty’s feelings and problems. They were good but, at the same time, they weren’t. Just as Matty with Y/N. Why that kept happening to him? No clear answer.

While he waited, Matty walked around the rented car, his hood up and trying to wake up massaging his face harder than intended. He was trying to keep his mind at ease. He couldn’t think about his issues. Quickly, Matty’s hands reached quickly for his pack of cigarettes. 

Matty deliberated a hundred of times if asking his mom about the situation would help, even though it was complicated. He would put her in a sketchy situation, and he was against it. At the same time, he knew very well –deep down– his mother would see through his eyes with her x-ray vision and say exactly what he had to do but was avoiding. 

Matty didn’t feel ready.

He had to decide. To accept what was really going on with his feelings, say those out loud and risk a lot in the middle. Or keep the same behaviour, not only the one he maintained for the past months, for the past years. Either way, he’d continue  hurting himself.

Lies -no matter how suited they could be- at the end are lies anyway. Denying feelings you have, don’t make them disappear…you only sweep them under the carpet and wait for them to explode in your face sooner or later.

The process of accepting is painful most of the time, but isn’t more painful to believe something that is not? Isn’t it worse to maintain a relationship that deep down you knew you don’t want?

Matty was protecting his heart. He was getting himself ready for the next part…for the inevitable. 

After a couple of more minutes, the singer spotted his mother looking for him. At the same moment, his phone rang.

“’Ello?” he answered, throwing away the butt of his smoked cigarette. 

“Hi Matty, where are you?” his mother asked. He gave her the directions, as he waved his free arm in the air. The whole group approached him. “Hi, love!” Denise greeted him, embracing him on a hug.

“Hi, mom.” Matty muttered, feeling the warmth of her arms. He didn’t realize how much he had needed that hug. “How was the flight?” the singer asked politely while greeting his mother’s friends.

“It was good.” one of them responded.

“Where are the others?” Denise asked.

“At the house, I volunteered to pick you up.”

“Aw, my son.” Denise took his face between her hands. 

Matty laughed feeling the tight squeeze. “Mom, stop!” he moved away, feeling like he was a teenager all over again.

“Oh, shush!!” she protested making the rest laugh.

Shortly after, Matty and the group of women got on the car. He started driving, chatting a little with Denise’s friends and her mom. He made jokes, trying to be the nicest he could be.

“So, how’s the record going?” Denise inquired.

Matty didn’t give her much information, “Good, good.”

“You look tired.” she noticed.

“I am.”

“Are you sleeping well?”

“Mom!” Matty whined, stopping at a red light. 

“What? I want to know if my son is alright.” 

“I’m sleeping just right, okay?”

Denise scoffed. “What that even means?” her accent thickened warming Matty’s heart thinking about home. 

“Oh god, I was missing you but…now I don’t know-” Matty teased her. He felt the urge to divert the attention.

“Excuse me, boy? First, I know you missed me- “

Matty smiled wide, “I did.”

“-and secondly, you can’t get fussy. I’m angry with you.” she folded her arms, emphasizing her sayings which was answered with a frown from Matty.

“What are you on about now?” Matty asked her.

“And you dare to ask!”

“Denise…” Matty warned her.

“Y/n? Ireland?“ Matty’s mother started counting, Matty’s face dropping. “Does that ring any bells?” 

Matty scratched the back of his head. “No? I mean- Yes, she’s working over there.”

“Not that! I know that!” Denise shouted. “Well, I’ve already known that.”

Denise’s son turned for a split of a second, staring at her puzzled. “What else then?”

“She’s dating someone! Don’t fake like you don’t know…” she continued rambling, but Matty’s ears closed. His mind was foggy while he imagined Y/n and a boy with no face doing a ton of shit he couldn’t do with her. 

“Like actually dating?” Matty’s voice came out strangled. He didn’t dare to look at her mother.

Denise hide her mouth behind her right hand, gasping, “Oh, you don’t know! She’s going to kill me!”

“Mom…”

“Do you remember Tom?” she exhaled.

“Tom?”

“Tom Blyth.”

“Yes, I do. I saw him at an even, I reckon? Not sure.” Matty’s mind desperately trying to remember how this Tom looked like. 

“Well, they… I don’t know how much I can tell you. I shouldn’t say a thing.” Denise explained, worried. Y/n never told her not to tell, but still.

“Don’t worry, I knew she was dating someone.” Matty lied. Y/n told him about a boy she fancied, not this. Why didn’t she? They talked a week prior, why hide this?

“Oh, okay. I’m really happy for her.” Denise felt a wave of relief washing over her.

“Yeah, me too.” Matty said through gritted teeth.

“It’s lovely she’s dating someone! He sounds like a good lad.” Denise continued ranting, unaware of Matty’s emotions.

“Yes, it is.” Matty couldn’t say more. His heart was aching. 

“Anyway, how’s Nadia?” his mother changed the topic.

“Ah?” Matty snapped out of his daydreaming. “Oh, Nadia- She- Yeah, she is alright. I guess, she’s in Italy right now.” Matty responded. Hoping his mother didn’t ask more. Luckily she didn’t.

Matty drove the group of women to the hotel they were going to stay at. He promised to come back later for dinner, and then he continued his driving.

His mind was nowhere to be found. His heart was hurt. Matty’s body was on pilot mode, he only wanted to arrive at the house and sleep. Just forget the news.

This Tom and Y/n? This new dude and his best friend? He couldn’t picture it. He didn’t want to. Why Y/n never said his name?

Matty was sure that the last conversation they had had was a fully sincerely one. He knew they didn’t talk about many important parts but…why she didn’t tell him?

…………………………………………

Hours later

Matty woke up suddenly. He sat on his bed, trying to calm his breathing. His heart beating so fast, he could perfectly sense it and hear it in his ears. 

After dropping her mother at the hotel, he came back home to sleep for a couple of hours before leaving to set. His life was hectic right now. His mind was troubled. And now his body was showing it more than before. He had to decide sooner than later. This thing was going to drive him insane.

His mother told him a lot of information he hadn’t considered. In fact, he forgot about this guy Y/n talked about. Matty was so focused on his relationship with her. On his relationship with his girlfriend. With maintaining both alive and going. But in the end: one, he wasn’t fulfilling the task, and secondly, he was only focusing on him.

The guy, well, Tom…never was in the equation for him. He kept Y/n in a place, in his head, where she was single and no seeking for a relationship right now. Did she tell him that or he believed it? She did tell him about this guy she had a crush on…but Matty knew that Y/n never took the lead. Probably Tom made a move. 

Matty ripped the blankets from his body, irritated.

He had to be happy for Y/n. He wanted to be happy. Matty couldn’t. He was more than screwed, he realized. The singer couldn’t say it out loud, not even to himself only. But he knew why this bothered him so much.

For a while he sat on his bed, running his hands –desperately– through his curls, trying to find the answer to his sorrows. 

Nothing helpful came to mind, but his breathing settled a little. His mind kept running. 

And then he remembered his dream.

He could picture it so vividly. It wasn’t fully a dream. It was more a memory with Y/n.

The dream took place months after they became friends. That time the rest of the gang wasn’t there, just Y/n and Matty. They had this kind of tradition, like a movie night but different. Instead of films they watched series. Sitcoms in particular. One of them picked two numbers, one for the episode and another for the season.

This time they were watching the office. They loved it. And Y/n particularly loved Pam and Jim’s relationship. Every time they appeared on the screen doing something remotely cute she screamed or remarked it for Matty in case he missed it.

He couldn’t care less about the episode. He was focused on her. How beautiful she got cheering for some random characters. Matty tried to look at her without her noticing. Y/n made him feel so many things back then. 

“Omg, he’s going to propose. Matthew!!” Y/n screamed turning to look at him, and then again to the screen.

“He’s not.”

“He totally is!”

“You already know what happens!” Matty accused her, chuckling. 

“Shh, I want to pretend that I don’t know.” the singer remembered how she snuggled closer to him. “Let…” she pointed a finger on his chest. “me…” again. “be, Healy.” Y/n looked up at his brown eyes, so close and yet so far. Matty’s heart was going to explode on his chest. He stayed there, just looking at Y/n. “Stop.” she looked away after a few minutes without a real reply from him. 

“I’m not doing anything, darling.” he smiled.

“You are.”

“What am I doing?”

“Looking at me.”Y/n said, drawing patterns on his clothed chest around his heart where his tattoo was imprinted. The girl wasn’t aware of the power she had upon him.

“Well, yeah, I’m not blind.” Matty was so surprised about how well he was faking being unbothered. “What’s wrong?”

“You are looking me like that night…” he made a puzzled face. “The night we met.” Y/n clarified. 

“Ohh.” he cooed.

“So- yeah- stop.”

“What if I don’t want to?” he asked cheekily. Matty touched the redness of her cheeks gaining her attention again.

“Dunno.”

“You’re beau-” Matty couldn’t help to start saying. Y/n moved her head forward hiding her face on his shoulder.

“Shh. Don’t. Let’s continue watching.” she made herself comfortable on his left side. Using his shoulder as a pillow this time. Matty couldn’t complain. He was happy there, with her, even when the words got stacked on his throat.

Y/n was everything he wanted back then. Why did he stop trying? Yes, they were friends. That was the most important part of this mess. Although he hated himself for not trying enough, for not waiting enough, for being an idiot, to realize late all of this when she was apparently starting a relationship with someone else, and he was in a former one already.

Nadia. He kind of used Nadia. He loved her, but not in that way…or not any more as the beginning. Matty couldn’t keep with that. He was going to hurt her so much..if he wasn’t already. Why he convinced himself he was ready for a formal relationship with someone else when in fact he wanted her? 

 If he broke the relationship, both of them would get hurt. Nadia doesn’t deserve that, in fact, she deserved better than a half love. It was the best, in the way that he had to let her have a better opportunity.

Matty ran his hands through his hair anxiously for a million time. He needed to know about this Y/n and Tom thing. He had to be sure if it was a real thing. Not because it would help. It would hurt in fact, even though he had the urged to know. He couldn’t ask Y/n though. Matty was sure that George knew something. He had to ask him.

Matty walked the short distance from his room to the studio downstairs where he knew George would be. 

He opened the door without announcing his presence. 

“Everything okay, mate?” George said in a calm tone without turning, his eyes still on the board in font of his eyes. 

“Do you know Y/n is with a Tom?” Matty didn’t wait a second. 

His best friend’s body stiffened visibly. “Tom? What Tom?” G tried playing dumb, although Matty saw right through him.

“George, I’m not in the mood for this. I know you know. So fuckin’ start talking.” he stated.

“Mat-“ 

The singer cut him short, “Don’t use that stupid tone with me.” Matty pointed his finger even though George couldn’t see him. He sat down on the couch behind G set up. “Please, I need to know.” Matty almost begged. “Can you tell me what you know?”

“Mate, you know I can’t tell you- “ George turned around on his chair. 

“So, she’s…mom’s right- Fuck!” Matty said more for himself, resting his entire body on the couch. 

“What’s going on? Why is making you so anxious?” G asked, with a patience he only had for Matty.

“I- I’m not in a good place right now…everything is- I don’t even know what to say.” Matty chuckled dryly.

“What do you mean?”

“George.“ he hissed.

“C’mon…say it.”

“I’m not ready to talk about this. I can’t- “

“This has something to do about the same feelings you had a while back?”

“Yes.”

“I know.”

George let the silence linger for a second, feeling like a pause between topics. 

“And Nadia?” the drummer asked.

“I don’t know.” Matty closed his eyes, cringing.

“Matty- “ G said in a worried tone.

“I know, okay? I’m going to talk to her…”

“Okay, it’s not going to be nice- “

“Believe me, I know.”

“I think it’s the best.”

“Yes.”

“And… Matty?”

“Yeah?”

George got serious after stating clearly, “You can’t say this to Y/n.“

“I know that too.” Matty responded defeated, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hands rhythmically.

“Mate- “

“I have things to figure it out, but I’m okay.” Matty lied to G and to himself.

G knew he was far from that state, but he wasn’t to push Matty more during that moment. “Okay…” 

“I’ve to go now.” Matty exited the room as fast as he came in.

G moved his face from side to side, praying silently that none of his best friend got hurt after all. 

………………………………………………

A week later

End of March

“What else could go wrong in this story?” Hann thought on the flight from LA to New York. He had no idea what he somehow manifested to happen after that without even knowing.

The first few days were fine, but when the fifth came everything changed. Hann and Matty didn’t talk much, they were still in this particular position since they had the talk. Hann decided to leave Matty alone for a while, but keeping his eyes close in case something happened. 

Strangely, Hann was left alone in the posh studio while the rest of the guys, the producer, and people he couldn’t retain their names even five minutes after meeting went out to get food. It would be easier ordering from an app or something even though all of them needed a break. 

The line connecting the front desk with the private area they had been working in rang startling Adam out of the zone. He left his guitar to the side, running to answer the thing.

The guitarist cleared his throat before asking, “Yeah?”

“Hello, I have a woman here that says he knows you.” the woman’s voice was tinted with suspiciousness. 

“Name?” 

Adam waited for longer than expected, listening quietly while the woman at the front desk asked the other person waiting.

“Nadia Parton.” she finally gave Adam a name.

‘Shit, what was she doing there?’

The receptionist did a strange sound urging Adam to inform her what he wanted to do with Nadia.  “Do you know her?” Hann rolled his eyes at the question and her urgency when she took longer than him asking Nadia only her name.

“Yes, I do. Let her pass, please.” he was short and polite, although he didn't give her much information. 

Adam hang up begging for a moment of peace that didn’t arrive.

…………………………………………….

Matty entered the room first, agitated as well since he played a bet with George that we would get up there before them and proceed to run upstairs. The run didn’t take his breath as much as witnessing Nadia talking calmly with Hann. 

Nadia was there.

To say that Matty didn’t expect her was to highlight the obvious. Matty had been trying to push the conversation as far as he could, and she was there, three meters away from him. He believed he had more time. The universe works differently.

“Hi, baby.” she approached him excited. “Surprise!” Nadia said while hugging him. Matty didn’t know what to do really. He hugged her back and looked at his best friend. Adam moved his shoulder as a sign he knew nothing about this, he even didn’t dear to ask the girl in the half hour they shared.

“I wasn’t expecting you…” the words fell from his mouth.

Nadia took a step back still with her arms around his neck. “That was my intention. I wanted to surprise you, as you did for our anniversary.” she said sweetly. Matty felt a little bit more miserable with each word she dropped. 

“Oh, right. I forgot some special occasion?” he inquired, lost.

She gifted him a big smile. “No, silly! I was missing you so much.” Nadia said, leaving a peak on his lips. A move that made Hann much more uncomfortable, sitting there just watching the scene as in a film. The studio’s phone rang once more, and he hadn’t been happier to hear that sound in his life. 

Adam spoke with the secretary once more informing him that Jack was in his way up.  

After he hung up, Adam tried to gain his friend’s attention at the same time he heard the guys approaching the studio. 

“Matty.“ he said between his bandmate’s name and a cough, getting the attention of the couple, not only Matty’s.

The frontman looked at him for a second time in only minutes, “What?” his face expressionless. 

“Jack is coming, and I think I hear the guys in the kitchen. ” Matty looked at him as if a second hand were growing beside the one holding the phone.

“Alright?”

Adam didn’t dare to look at Nadia. It wasn't rare that friends or family stay during the record sessions, but he was aware that Matty didn’t want her there right at that moment. Hann was trying to gain time and Matty wasn’t taking the hint.

Something must’ve clicked inside the singer’s brain because he continued saying, “Ah- Yes…I mean, top secret.” Matty moved far from Nadia’s embrace one because they were blocking the door and two because he was feeling guilty receiving so much caring he couldn't reciprocate. “Nad, would you give us a time alone? We won’t be long…just Jack checking some stuff about this-”

“Yes, yes…I knew I’ll have to when I planned the surprise.” she said, walking towards him. Matty couldn’t help feeling cornered, although he let her kiss him shortly before heading out of the studio.

When she was out of sight, and they were sure she wasn’t listening, Matty dared to ask, “Did you-?”

“Tell her something? Hell, no!” Hann said.

“Alright, alright…good.” Matty said, under his breath, passing around.

Neither of them continued the conversations. Adam looked how Matty walking in circles before turning around with his eye full of certainty. 

“What?”

“I- “ Matty mumbled the words making it impossible for Adam to hear.

“Come again?”

Matty stood in the middle of the studio, opening his chest, “I’m going to break up with her.” Matty admitted and Adam doubt it.

“Right now?”

The singer chew on his upper lip, “It wasn’t in my plans she was going to- “

“Yeah, I can tell.” Hann said sarcastically.

“This is not funny!” Matty looked at him with a stern look.

“Yes, sorry. And then…?”

“I can’t focus on that now. I have to work”

“Yes, you have to.” neither of them knew if he was speaking about work or something else.

Adam grabbed the collar of his forgotten guitar, leaving his friend with his own thoughts. 

……………………………………………….

Few hours later

Nadia wasn’t an idiot. She knew from a long time up to that moment the fact that Matty was dealing with something. She was confused though. Matty kept sending her way a lot of mixed signals. One day, she was everything to him, he followed her around, being the attended boyfriend or travelling for their anniversary, even though the next day, he was cold and doesn’t seem happy to see her in NY.

She continued dismissing it, thinking it was part of being with a rock star, or ‘Matty is Matty’, or ‘the album is stressing him’; everything instead of thinking he didn’t want her any more. 

The woman was deeply in love with him, Nadia was sure of that. She was head over heels for him. But, was he? ‘Yes’. Why would he be with her if he wasn’t? Matty wasn’t that type of guy, and Matty had shown her that he loved her. Still, something was wrong. Nadia didn’t want to think about it. She was happy with him. Matty was everything she sought in a man. She could deal with this bad moment of their relationship because it would past…or she wanted to think.

After they wrapped for the day, Matty and the rest of the group returned to the hotel. Matty was drained, very tired, so he decided to wait for the next day to talk with Nadia. That’s why she stayed with him in his hotel room, and he was in peace with his thoughts for just a moment.

“Finally, alone.” she said, smiling at him.

“Yeah. I’m going to take a shower.” he said, going to his suitcase.

“Can I join you?” Nadia said cheekily.

“Nad, I’m not in the mood.” he responded, searching for his clothes.

“Oh, okay…” she said feeling slightly embarrassed. “I’m going to call room service, what do you want to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.” Matty replied without looking at her, meanwhile he stood up walking slowly towards the bathroom.

Nadia left the phone on the side table, turning her body to face her boyfriend. Before Matty closed the door behind him, she exclaimed, “Fine, what’s going on?” 

“What?” he didn’t turn around.

“Matty.“

The singer quickly got defensive, “I’m not hungry that’s all.”

“I’m not talking about the food and you know that.” she kept glancing at him. She could tell he was nervous, his back muscles were tight.

“I don’t- “

Nadia left the comfort of the mattress, standing in the middle of the room. “I know you, tell me what is going on.” with a courage she didn’t feel, Nadia approached him, placing a hand on his back and sensing Matty got stiff felt like a dagger ripping her heart.

“I’m knackered, okay? Can we not do this right now? “

“I’m tired of this, Matty. I need you to speak to me if you are going through something. We’re a couple!” she let her hand dropped to her side.

“I- “

Nadia felt desperate. “Please, tell me!”

“Okay.” he turned around. “Please, take a seat.” she obeyed, returning to her previous position.

“I wasn’t expecting you to show up- “ he started to say.

She couldn’t stay silent, her anxiety making her interrupt his rambling, “That’s everything? Me surprising you?”

“Please, let me finish.” Matty scrubbed his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t expect you to show up in fuckin’ New York, at the studio. I was waiting to fly back home and talk with you properly.” Matty continued, starting to gain power on his words. “I know my behaviour during the last months weren’t the best- In fact, they were the worst. I’m being a horrible boyfriend, and you don’t deserve this. Don’t- “ Matty stopped Nadia with a signal of his hand when she moved and before a single word fell from her lips. “Please, let me finish. I wasn’t expecting you, but when you showed I decided the best would be talking tomorrow when I’ll be more awake than now. I guess this can’t wait any longer. I know this is going to hurt you, and me too. You’ll hate me for this- “

“You’re scaring me, Matty.” Nadia said worriedly.

“I- I’m struggling a lot with myself. And I don’t think you should…you have to deal with it too.”

Nadia’s eyes stung with tears.“What are you suggesting?” 

“I think we should break up.” ‘I said it, I finally did it’, Matty thought.

“What?” she asked surprised. “If it’s because I didn’t tell you or any of the guys that I was thinking on coming- I’m so sorry.” Nadia tried explaining quickly.

“That’s not why.”

“Then what? You don’t love me?”

“I- I do love you.”

“Then?” she moved on the bed anxiously.

“I love you, but there are things I can’t tell you that I’m dealing with…and you don’t deserve this.”

“There’s someone else?” Nadia hatred herself for asking that. She sounded so cliché.

“It’s not- It’s not exactly about that- “ he said sitting on the bed, reaching for her hand.

“Then what?” she asked again, looking down.

“I can’t- “

“Don’t you trust me?” she inquired, this time crying. She wanted to seem strong, she couldn’t.

“I do. I do. This is- I can’t even think about it without going insane.” he admitted.

They stay for a moment in complete silence. Both of them were hurt. Nadia’s heart was shattered in hundreds of pieces. Matty suffered watching her in that state. Fully knowing that he caused it.

“I’m so sorry.” Matty said verily out loud.

Nadia chocked on a sob, saying, “I love you, Matty.”

“I love you too, Nad.” he reached for her cheek, while she continued crying. “Please, don’t hate me. I mean, I understand if you want to punch me or kick me in the nuts.” she chuckled. “Please know that I’m doing this because you deserve so much better.”

“I don’t know.”

“I know it. It seems like the most horrible excuse, but I mean it. You’re an incredible person, women, and you deserve someone that loves you and treat you better than I do.” Matty admitted.

“I want you…”

“I know- “ Matty sadly said.

After a while Nadia tried to dry the tears that never stopped falling. She told Matty, “I better go.” 

“You can stay till tomorrow.” He offered.

“I preferred not to.” she took out her hand from Matty’s grip. 

“I’m so sorry.” Matty apologized again, staring at her form while she moved around the bed grabbing her stuff.

“I’m too. I wish you the best, Matty.” 

“I don’t deserve it.”

Nadia titled her head, staring for a last time into his soft brown eyes, “You do. I hate you right now, and I don’t want to see you for a while.” she stated, meanwhile Matty answered with a nod. “Don’t reach for me when you are sad, well, you stop doing that a couple of months ago. I don’t understand why this happened but above all, I love you and I know you’re a good guy. You gave me a lot of beautiful moments to remember, you’re a kind soul. I know I don’t deserve this, although you have to know that I stay because you're worth the wait…and if you tell me there is a little part of you that wants me to wait I’ll probably wait. I know you don’t have that part.” she said when Matty opened his mouth to speak. “It hurts so..so much, because I know, I’m sure, that in your own way you love me, you said it too. Sadly, not as much I love you. Because I love you fully. When I love I do it that way.” Nadia stopped and dried her tears once more. “For all we shared and how much I cherish you…I wish you the best. Goodbye, Matty.” she finally said, turning around, graving her suitcase and then left the room.

When the click of the door made a loud noise in the silent room, Matty started to cry. He hurt one of the most important people in his life. Nadia was gone. Matty knew it was the best, and he also knew it was going to hurt. Not that much. He couldn’t complain though.

She didn’t shout, Nadia didn’t even raise her voice. Which, made it more difficult to deal with. Sometimes, it is easier to hate the other and shout. Not the best, or healthiest, just easier. That time was the opposite

Why does he keep hurting the people that love him deeply?

………………………………………………..

The next morning Hann found an obviously tired Matty. The guitarist wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask or not. Something clearly happened, the singer’s face showed it.

They had a free day, luckily for everybody. A couple of days ago, they decided to be the typical tourist and walk around town. Matty wasn’t in the mood for that even though it might help.

Adam knocked on Matty’s door two hours before the activity started. The frontman took his time to prepare even though he ended up showing with a simple shirt and jeans combo. Hann was expecting to encounter Nadia, but she was nowhere to be found. That gave him the first hint. He also remembers what Matty told him the day before. He wasn’t expecting his friend to be so quick about it. Although, he couldn’t assume anything. Adam didn’t want to. He was going to wait for Matty to come around and speak about it.

They stayed in silence for a good amount of time. Matty plopped himself on the bed and rest his head on his hands after opening the room’s door for his friend.

“Nadia left.” he informed Adam when the eyes of the guitarist scanned the room.

“When?”

“Last night.”

“Mhm.” Hann only dared to express. 

“We- I broke up with her.” Matty looked at his best friend, waiting for a reaction.

Adam showed nothing, “Okay.” 

“It was the correct thing…right?” he hesitated.

“I’m not going to tell you what it’s or what it isn’t right, Matty.” Adam clarified. 

“Damn it!” Matty projected himself out of the bed.

“Take it easy, mate.” the guitarist said with a calm Matty envied. 

“How? I mean, HOW? She hates me now. I’m an asshole!”

“Okay, no. Yes, you did pretty fuck up things…although you can’t beat yourself up like at. Everybody makes mistakes, you’re trying to solve them. Focus on that. It’s not nice, because you realize big things, feelings and I understand you’re hurt- “

“I can’t make myself the victim. I know.”

“No, you can’t. Although this is not a Disney film, there’s not a good guy and a bad one.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Matty let a big breath out. “What I do now? I broke up with Nadia, and Y/n is…” the singer started to tell him, and then stop.

“Y/n what?”

“Nothin’.” Matty muttered.

“Oh, no. You’re going to tell me.” the frontman was satisfied with Adam’s nervousness. 

“Don’t you know?” Matty inquired. 

“About what?”

“Y/n is in a relationship.” just saying the words hurt as if someone was ripping his heart out of his body.

“Oh, shit. Did she tell you?”

“No, mom did.”

“Your mother told you?!” 

“And then George quite of confirmed it.”

“Fuckin’ hell.”

“Yeah, exactly. I hate my life right now.”

“Don’t..”

“Let me be miserable for a minute, okay?”

“No.”

“Please.” Matty begged without caring.

“No.”

“Hann!”

“You said it…you’re not the victim. Suck it up, mate!”

Matty scoffed, “Very kind of you.”

“I’m trying to help!”

“Well, you’re not helping…at all.” Matty snapped at him. And quickly regretted it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” the frontman took a sit on the bed once more and Adam copied him. 

“I understand.”

“Why didn’t she tell me? Or you? Instead, she told George and mom…”

“I don’t know.” Hann lied. He perfectly knew why. He wasn’t even hurt. Hann knew the reasons why Y/n tend to skip talking to him about this stuff. He couldn’t tell Matty though, it wasn’t his thing to tell.

“Should I call her?”

“What? Are you insane?” Adam exclaimed.

“Fine. Yeah, I’m not going to…” Matty hesitated even when the urge to do it was big.

“Please promise me you’ll not.” Hann begged, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“I promise.” No matter how hard it will be, Matty had to stop hurting the people he loved. The first one was Y/n. Somehow, he hurt her. He doesn’t understand why quite well, but he knew it. He can ask her about how was she doing and all of that, although if she didn’t want to tell him about Tom…he had to stay out of that.

Matty had to focus on work again and work only. When he returned home in a month or so he could think what to do. For the time being, he had to fix himself and stay out of more problems.

————————————————————————————–

On the other side of the ocean

Spring was one of her favourite seasons. Y/n loved all of it. From the flowers starting to blossom to the mild temperatures and all in the middle it was a lovely season. Or maybe this year she was looking at it with other eyes.

The woman was happy beyond the imagination. Finally, after many months she was in fact and without a doubt happy. She longed for that moment and now she had it. The positivity she irradiated was amazing. Y/n was giving so much, and the universe responded or herself in a state of pure happiness wanted to believe that.

Y/n was euphoric for all the work she had done in the previously few months with herself, how much she grew. She took a step aside from the horrible place where she was, Y/n took a place aside from being the cliché girl in love with her best friend. But it wasn’t all her merit, she had a big helper. She had a handsome helper: Tom.

Y/n never felt what she felt with Tom.

Tom was everything she ever dreamed of: he was always attentive with her, but not overwhelming her, he understood her reserves and didn’t complain; they talked about everything and nothing, every conversation was perfect. Sometimes, they fought about their strong beliefs, but they also end up kissing and hugging. Y/n was happy with Tom.

She didn’t tell Tom about Matty. Y/n didn’t see why. She wasn’t thinking about that as well. Tom and her talked by text and she was okay with that. After all, he was her friend, and she promised not to disappear. She still had affection for him of course.

Anyway, Y/n was living in a dream. Work was going well, she was kind of sad because they had only one week left of filming, and then she would be back home. This time with Tom. They talked about it fully, feeling extremely happy that both of them were in the same page about continuing dating. Tom lived closer to the centre of London, and she was only 20 minutes away by car from there. They could make it work out.

Since they were in the last week of shooting, Y/n had a lot of work in hand. They had to leave everything perfectly done, and she had pressure about helping Lily accomplish all of what was expected from her.

“Please, could you leave those papers and hung out with me?” Lily begged, sitting in her trailer’s couch.

“You know I really want that, but I can’t.” Y/n continue going through the schedule.

“Agh!” Lily scoffed. “You’re not fun any more.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at her, “We see each other every day! Don’t overreact.”

“That’s exactly why…we have only a handful of days to be together and then- “

“And then, we’ll see each other as well.” Y/n turned around, looking at her.

“You’ll be so busy with your prince charming!”

“Omg, don’t call him that!”

“Being all happy and loving each other.” Lily continued with her rant, making weird sounds that tried to emulate kissing.

“You’re impossible.” Y/n returned to her papers.

“Talking about Romeo!” Lily exclaimed. Y/n didn’t understand until she heard a voice.

“Were you talking about me? I’m flattered.” Tom looked at Y/n, approaching her and the woman couldn’t help noticing her stomach sprung to life with excitement. 

“She was talking about you.” Lily pointed like a little girl.

“Oh, really?” Tom crocked an eyebrow while placing his arms around Y/n.

“Yes, about how she’s going to ignore me- like right now- and be all lovely jolly with you.” 

“I don’t want to brag but- I’m pretty cool so- “ Tom joked. Leaving a kiss at the back of Y/n’s head.

“Oh, you shut up!” Lily said standing up. “I’m going to leave you two to it…” and then she left without waiting for an answer.

“Lily!” Y/n exclaimed, shaking her head disappointed but laughing before turning to face Tom. “Hi”

“Hi.”  Tom looked down at her eyes. His height always amused her, Y/n felt secured with him being so tall, she didn’t know exactly with, but she did.

“Did you need something?” she inquired, placing her hands on his chest.

“Yes.”

“Oh, what?”

“You.”

“Cheesy, way too cheesy, Tom.” she laughed.

“It’s the truth.” he replied, kneeling down to meet her lips. 

…………………………………………………

Sad day, last day

The last day of shooting and the day before that one with the big wrap party, Y/n felt really emotional. This production gave her more than she could ever ask for: a lot of experience and work, of course, but also friendships and a lovely boy. She was more than grateful with it.

Y/n was leaving that day with Tom and Lily. He brought his stuff a couple of days before so when they had to leave, they went straight from the Airbnb that Lily and Y/n shared towards the airport. It was more practical and that let Tom and Y/n spend nights together.

Y/n woke pretty early sensing the warmth that Tom’s body spread. Her head was in his chest, and his arms were around her form. She let a sigh out in pure bliss. Tom moved a little, waking up as well.

“Morning.” he said in a raspy voice.

“Morning.” she smiled, propping herself up staring down at him. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a baby. After that intense activity- “

“Tom! Stop that!” she whined.

“Okay, okay. Now you’re shy but last night- “

“Omg, shh!” she shushed him, trying to leave his side.

“No, come back here.” he begged.

“Such a baby.” she teased.

“Thanks.” he answered laughing after she was only centimetres away from his face. “I need my morning kiss, y’know.”

“Oh, really? I don’t know.” she played dumb.

“Please? I’ll stop saying how hot last night was.” he chuckled.

“Exactly, no. You lost your opportunity.” she tried to stand up, but quickly Tom pulled her into the mattress.

“Why so shy so suddenly, darling?” Tom asked. The nickname made her think about Matty, making her instantly felt bad. Now she was fully aware they were coming home. “Hey.” he tried to get her attention when Y/n’s sight fell elsewhere, lost. “If it’s so bad to kiss me and think about us having- “

“Stop!” she placed her hands on his mouth, laughing at the same time. “I just- I don’t want to get back home.”

“Why?”

Her hands found his curls quickly, “I’m not going to see you every day.”

“And then I’m clingy?” he inquired, leaning down to caress her throat with his nose, taking her in.

“Oh, forget it!”

“No. I’m sad about that too, believe me. But, we don’t live that far from each other.”

“I know, but…”

“Stop with the but’s. I want my kiss.” he said, reaching her face to finally kissed her.

Tom’s kisses were like no other ones in her life. Y/n didn’t kiss many boys but she was sure none of them kissed like him. He made her feel inexplicable feelings. He was tender and kind, but hot and torrid at the same time. Tom treated her as if Y/n was made of porcelain, with so much love and caring. She was getting addicted to him.

Tom was like her favourite season. Tom felt like spring. 

………………………..

After the three of them left for the airport, Tom acknowledged quickly how clingy Y/n was being. In fact, he was making most of it because she was rarely like that around other people. Neither of them was. He kept her close. Hugging her or taking her hand. Subtle forms of ‘I’m here, we’re okay’. Y/n was glad he noticed. It amazed her how well he understood her when they had only known each other for nearly 10 months. He was going to miss him, no matter if he was close, and they already had plans to meet in London.

Y/n was trying to avoid overthinking her behaviour. She succeeded until they took the plane home, and Tom fell asleep. 

For a while, she admired his face and features. She didn’t want to appear creepy, so she turned her sight to the clouds. The sky was almost black. She could still picture the lights of the city, of Ireland. Then, the sea came into her view. Y/n always felt a big connection with the water no matter how much she loved the earth, the land. There was something so deep and meaningful about water that amazed her. Maybe, it was the fact that you can reflect yourself on water. At that moment she couldn’t picture her figure from so afar even though the colour and the depends on the Irish Sea made her look inside herself.

The inner talk was something she avoided a little since her relationship with Tom started. On the other hand, you can’t stop yourself from thinking. You have to, if you don’t talk with yourself how would you know what you want and what you have to do to get better?

Y/n felt that she failed to herself in that part. Yes, she wanted to be happy. She was happy. But she repeated something she acknowledges a way back. She avoided Matty. Well, she didn’t, they talked even though she avoided her feelings or not feelings for him. She avoided thinking about which position she was in about him. And that was a little bit wrong. Not because she was happy with Tom she could keep avoiding her problems, avoid Matty. 

Y/n wanted to solve her situation. She wanted to get back to her friendship with Matty as it was. Without knowing, she drifted more apart after she repeated that to herself.

She didn’t tell her best friend about the amazing relationship she was in now. Of course, Y/n had her reasons. Although, if she wanted to get back to be just friends…didn’t friend tell each other things like this? Matty told her about him and Nadia back then.

She wanted to tell him, but after two months or so Y/n wanted to do it in person. Matty was in New York at the moment, which made that quite difficult. Maybe when he returned. She knew he would get angry, that’s why she wanted to somehow explain it to him. She would have to lie a little bit longer…for the last time. 

Y/n had to admit to herself, she missed him. She missed the whole gang. She missed her English family. That was why she was also happy to be back. Not everything was awful.

Y/n came back to real life once the plane started the descended and Tom woke up. She tried to enjoy those last minutes. Yeah, she knew she was kind of overreacting, but she couldn’t avoid it. As well as oceans, she was restless…to many feelings. As well as oceans, she was going to settle. The calm was here. Or that was what she liked to think.

………………………………….

Two weeks after

Two more weeks went by during which Matty was still unhappy and troubled. That time not only due to Y/n and his feelings, this time because of the coronavirus. They had to return home. Sadly, the cases were rasing in so little time, that the government was closing down everything again.

For the album, Matty wasn’t preoccupied because with the rumours of this happening they managed to do most of the works left, and they wrapped a day before the announcement. And they could always continue from home. 

Staying in New York was an option, although they had been gone for a long while. George was missing his girlfriend, Adam his child, Ross his family and Matty the comfort of home. They preferred to return home. Back in England, the situation wasn’t bad but also not good. The government was considering closing everything again, they didn’t have news about it.

A part of Matty wasn’t sure if he wanted to get back. Part of him wanted, he missed his family, his shared house with the boys, and everything. Another part, didn’t want to get back though. Too many things to deal with. Being out of the country, wherever work took him, he was available to stay far from his normal problems, or he had that illusion. 

Anyway, coming home was exhausting. More during the corona time. Having to use the face mask and all the protocols. He wasn’t complaining, he supports taking care of the rest and his wealth. It just adds a lot on his shoulders and made him more tired.

Once he returned, Matty spent a lot of time inside his room playing games or writing, he even went on a walk with Denise for a short time. 

He knew Y/n was also back home, and she sometimes met up with George and the rest. Although, he wasn’t ready to see her. They still talk by message, they avoid the topic. Even when Y/n knew very well he was at home, she mentioned nothing. She didn’t want to push him, and at the same time, she was spending time in London for a good amount of time with Tom.

So, yeah, Matty wasn’t ready for what life, the universe or God had under her/his sleeve this time.

……………………………….

Sunny Sunday

A week prior to the dinner, Denise started begging and bugging him to get all together. She said, ‘let’s share a nice meal at this place closer to you guys now that we’re allowed before everything closes again, Matty!’ and no matter how much he tried she won. The boys were excited to see new faces after weeks of only seeing each other working to get the record ready to publish.

Matty and Hann arrived at the restaurant first but they waited at the car park for the rest to arrive. They did minutes after.

“Hi, boys!” Denise said, very happily.

“Hi, mom.” Matty was the first greeting her.

“Hello.”

“Why so happy?” George inquired.

“Can’t I be happy for seein’ you handsome boys?” she asked, innocently.

“Mom…” Matty knew better.

“Okay, okay. I have a surprise for you all!”

Ross got all excited like a little kid during Christmas, “What?” 

“Patience, dear. We have to wait a little longer before it arrives. Well, it’s not a thing, is a person.” Denise’s smile was wide. 

“I’m not following.” Adam interrupted.

Louis interfered,  “Me neither. But, you get used to it.” and the rest chuckled.

“Wait and see. She is arriving!”

“Oh, she?” George inquired.

“Yes, she. Not whatever you’re thinking- I don’t want to- “

“Mom, could you just tell us!” Matty was growing anxious.

“Oh, she is here!!” Denise cheered so loud.

The whole family looked at how a very familiar car parked beside theirs. Shortly after, Y/n came out smiling nervously at them.

“Hi, guys.” she greeted the group.

Matty’s heart stopped beating right there.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @hollybrislen @sinarainbows @eaglestar31 @sugarkane1001 @brittluvs1975

Chapter 7 >

[noacfapologyst]

birthday surprise — matty healy

(the birthday party: day two)

summary: even surrounded by people he loves and people he doesn't know at his birthday party, matty feels alone. by chance or by consequence, he finds a piece of his past that it stirs absolutely everything in the depths of his soul.

warnings: mention of alcohol, approach to loneliness, flashbacks of the past. cry on your birthday (guilty). open ending (maybe?)

wordcounter: 4,8k

Birthdays are one of the things Matty has enjoyed most since he was a kid. It's not just the fact of seeing all the people he wants in one place or the gifts he receives, although obviously that's also a plus for the basis, but the most important reason boils down to another: Matty has learned to celebrate being alive, to have a day, or a year more to live.

Maybe for the same reason, one of the environments Matty is best known for could be at parties. He always gathers endless crowds inside the walls of his house, always ends up being crazy between the amount of mess he has to clean up afterwards and the mess he has to take care of while they dance drunk on the tables and sing without being able to stop.

He has never considered himself a person of few friends, but he doesn't think he has a huge amount either because he's had to leave a lot of people behind. He has the necessary ones to be good with himself and with them, his presence does not suffocate them and they know how to understand him even when he cannot control himself and impulsivity controls him. But he's calm, he always is.

Of course, he now finds himself in a situation where many people entering his house are unknown to him because they are companions of his friends, or acquaintances of them. And God, Charli gathered a crowd in here. He recognizes them because he believes he went to high school with one or two, the few years he attended before deciding to miss an exam to go to a music festival.

Entities mix because he fails to recognize among low-profile, famous or just known people who have found out. In a way, it feels a bit like a party I'd throw if I was 18 and walked out of a Santbury's with several bottles in my hand and on my head. But it is not, because he is 35 and is in the middle of going through his thirties crisis.

Although now he deduces that none of it matters to him. He's much better than fine. He has gone from having the weight of a feather to getting stronger and seeing its fruits after many months without stopping at the gym. It has healed in all senses: broken heart, mental frailty, bad habits and addictions. Or at least in most of them, because he still smokes and still drinks alcohol, but at least now he equates it with something else and knows he can control it better. It's not entirely perfect, it could never be because that's metaphorically what the human being represents: a canvas that looks beautiful, beautiful and honest until you see the poorly made brushstrokes, over and over again until a result bulges.

"Hey, come to the kitchen." George awakens him from his thought with a touch. Matty leaves the beer can half-open on a shelf in the living hallway.

Then they arrive in the kitchen amidst a tumult of people that opens up in their path. The open backyard door is a plus because it's a good place to get some cold air and realize that he's lost a lot of stability and composure after several beers and a few more shots.

Ross is leaning on the recently acquired white marble countertop, as he opens a bottle of Don Perignon and the foam splashes over the top of the bottle. With quick movements, he pulls seven glasses from the shelf, and fills them to distribute later.

"Let's toast in honor of Matty, because it's his birthday and we love him. And we are incredibly proud of him." Ross cheers, while everyone raises their glasses. Charli applauds with the palms of his hands, and everyone knows that he has lost his mind. Matty smiles as much for that last act as for what his friend has just said, it's really an honest smile and full of feeling though he may not be able to prove it now.

Everyone toast, and then Carly pulls out of her purse a digital camera to capture the moment in eternity. They take a selfie together: George, Matty, Ross, Adam, Carly, Charli, and Chloe. Then there are some spontaneous ones between the four guys, the girls and one of each of them with Matty.

"Oh, my boys. I love all of you so much. You are the best on my life, really." It's finally Matty drinking the champagne out of his glass. Feel the golden bubbling liquid falling down your throat. "Thanks for everything you've done for me throught this years, forever."

When the conversation becomes that emotional tone that always happens on birthdays, it is also the moment when the bubble of intimacy breaks and everyone leaves that state.

"Hey I'm sorry, but there's not more ice." A woman's voice sounds from the frame of the kitchen, but Matty can't recognize her even when he looks at her with a frown.

"Oh! Now I'll bring more, thank you darling." Matty answers almost automatically as if he had given up control of his head. Actually the words are leaking out of her mouth but it's nothing too worrying yet, and she hopes it stays that way. "Some of you know who is?" He receives negative responses after the restlessness and sighs sillylyly laughing. "Thanks for all, friends."

A song by the Backstreets Boys begins to ring through the speaker in the living room and resonates between all the divisions of the house. Taking advantage of the commotion and celebration about it all he leaves the kitchen and disperses. Matty searches for a bag of ice from the fridge, breaks the wrapper with scissors and takes it to the main table where he places it in the fountain designed to keep the cold.

When he crosses the center of the dance floor, many people greet him and flatter him, giving him little shouts of love or complete sobriety, and more than one even asks him to dance for a few moments.

For a moment he manages to put away the idea of how he is the only one in his group of friends who has no one, which becomes more raw when he sees too many couples kissing on his couch, also generates a bit of disgust but he doesn't want to feel like a snob. He did the same thing and doesn't know when he stopped doing it but he understands the adrenaline generated by kissing someone when you're drunk and hot in public spaces, even if it's a pretty adolescebte attitude.

He takes his beer from where he left off and goes on. They have all built long-lasting relationships or are in the process, which makes sense for the age that passes.

He's okay with that, too. Yeah, logically, he´d like to have someone to dance together right now and then sneak out to enjoy a moment alone. Intertwining his hands with someone and having someone fixed to wake up with every morning while the smell of coffee runs through the room. He wants it the same way people who don't have it do, but he thinks he needs a break now.

Her last love attempts have gone overboard, and further down. They have simply come out disastrously and reject the idea that he wants to have for love: it all ends in silly discussions about mundane and monotonous everyday things that make up a ball that explodes, then everything weakens and the routine too tiresome. He wanted to live in the madness with which he used to live love in his 20s, where there was no fear of the future and only the expectation of living in the present.

Remember that frenzy of love when he was a teenager, when it is the purest love you contemplate inside you, when the barrier of who is going to judge you and the responsibilities are inhibited and you just go drunk with love walking down the streets arriving at the door with different flowers every day. He wants to love and get it right this time, obviously, but he doesn't want the person he leaves his legacy with abruptly taking away the magic of love Matty once had.

By the same token, he takes care of letting it flow. He's not waiting for anyone and he's hoping that things will just get better. She doesn't know if her future is to love someone and make it work, but she doesn't give up hope.

"I'm going to smoke, just in case." He says, when he sees Carly near him. He knows she's the one he can trust most because she's the most sober and the least alcoholic.

"Stay safe, Matty. Hope I won't have to look for you." She approaches him and kisses him on the cheek in an act of love, something like a motherly love. Even though she's only a little older than him, since she's with Adam she considers Matty to be completely special to her, and she loves him as much as she literally loves her children.

He says goodbye to her and walks to find the back door sneaking around. He looks the place and he see that there are really not so many people huddled together in the same place as they are scattered. The courtyard is huge, after the cement floor the grass extends along perhaps half a kilometer, where in the middle there is a swimming pool, and in the width there are some palm trees that accompany it. In the background there is a gate that leads to a construction connected to the house, but for which Matty is not responsible.

He looks for a place under the palm tree, the breeze that the leaves cause as they move embraces him at dawn. It's funny to him, he sneaks away just like he did all his life at these kinds of events, punctually on his birthday. He loves people and loves being with them, but at some point he needs to isolate himself from that same environment and have air to himself.

He fiddles with the lighter between his fingers passing it from hand to hand until he decides to pull a mentholed cigarette out of the pocket of his black leather bomber.

"Matty?" A whisper of the wind reaches his ears, although he does not know where it comes from, he acknowledges that there are not so many people who call themselves that.

He hears footsteps on freshly cut grass and hears crackling under his shoes. The only light out there comes from a curtain of lights hooked to the grill, so it's pretty dark.

But then a female presence appears in front of him. He really does nothing but admire her and for once his eyes run out of the cylinder he is about to light.

The two look into each other's eyes, Matty feels his whole life is passing before his eyes and is afraid he's having a concussion, or he's having a stroke. It doesn't make sense for her to be here in front of him after all these years.

"y/n?" He dares to ask. He doesn't have anyone around to confirm his presence there so he hopes he's not too drunk to hallucinate and hopes he's really on the physical plane. "I'm sorry, it's just…wow." Her tongue catches the words as her head runs a thousand miles after seeing her nod to get out of her trance.

"Isn't it?" With every word the past moves down the earth for both him and her. Too many, too many layers of memories that were left behind many years ago now threaten to float as if they could seep through the holes in the green ground.

There is a prolonged silence for a few seconds. Actually, nobody knows what to say because everything seems like a fantasy about to be pricked with a pin and nobody wants to go beyond that.

Matty's looking at her. She has always had that carefree but wrinkled profile and he recognizes her under the black dress sleeveless dress glued to her body and the hair cut on her shoulder, with the last minute scissors marks and something uneven. She complements it with high-cane boots, something like the ones she defined as her favorites too long ago. She still has that sparkle she had when she was a teenager, she's still incredibly beautiful without asking. He looks at her surprised that she's here, grateful to see her once more. He can't stop thinking about it, but she's really radiant.

She looks at him. He has changed a lot from the superficial, his hair is now almost shaved, only with hints of hair growing on his entrances. She doen't need to inquire to know that his fitness owes it to the gym, even under his jacket she can see how well marked are his muscles compared to the little skinny teenager she met a long time ago. The expression on his face did not change, if he looks into his eyes he still finds the frightened child because he does not know if things will turn out well, but also the child waiting for his mother after school to give her a hug. She has a white T-shirt that's stuck to her body and her tattoos are transparent. She looks at him impressed.

"Hey." He breaks the silence by speaking softly but with total softness. She smiles at him without showing her teeth and Matty feels something rising up her body. "What are you doing here?"

He is lying against a palm tree, she is standing nearby but neither wants to move into the position of the other, there is some barrier that prevents it and possibly it is discomfort.

"I'm the babysitter of my sister and her friends, they are your brother's friends." She anwers by returning the tone of calm. "In fact, I found out today."

"Wait, really?" He answers, and for a moment the atmosphere seems to disappear only because he is seeing everything through it. "But Louis is not there." He shrubs his shoulders.

"Yes, I noticed that. I guess he told the others in some nonsense conversation." She analyzes how he hasn't lit a cigarette since he arrived. "Are you going to turn it on or?"

Matty feels like a fool. "Do you continue smoking?" Ask without a second thought. He just wants to know what's in her life now. "Sorry, what about my maners, do you want one?

"No, but I'll share one just for the old times." She smiles at him again, and he mentally keeps the memory of how the burgundy color highlights the cheekbones of the white skin of the woman in front of him.

"Do you want to sit?"

"I'm alloweed to?" Matty is restless under such a formal tone and considers that the passage of the years now takes its points.

"Of course." Now he's the one smiling at her. "Are you still in the same job?

She laughs slowly, refuses with her head a bit apart. "God, no. I work in a notary's office now, but I'm more comfortable." She answers, he opens his lips in surprise, a whistle escapes from her lips. "May I suggest why are you here and not inside dancing with the others?" She asks with some shyness as she approaches to sit down, without doing so facing or beside him, as at an angle of seventy-five.

"Maybe you know the answer. It hasn't changed." He answerd and when he feels that he is drowning in too much of the past, he lights the cigarette. He pauses and takes a drag.

"You still get loneliness sometimes." She reasons, he nods with a look of pity and gave her the cigarette. "I really didntt know this was your house."

"It's quite different from the old porch, it doesn't have a loft with a balcony or red tiles either, but i like it." He sighs embracing the melancholy that escapes from his bone structure. "How did you get here?

"My friend was dizzy from so many people and then I lost her because of a child." She laughs wryly. "I started walking and then I reached the palm tree, and maybe I understood the host of the party."

"¿Yes?"

"How many people do you know whose birthday is April 8th, Matty?" She stares at him with direct intent. He flies in the nebula. She remembers her birthday.

"You still remember it." He has a smile that runs through his face from end to end, he feels satisfied with the interaction, whatever it takes. She leaves the cigar in her hand and the touch makes him shake.

Matty's head is about to fall apart. He himself sees how his vision becomes twofold, one leaving him in reality under the palm tree, and the other teleporting him 22 years ago to a rather similar place.

It's autumn, the leaves of the trees turn yellow and fall to the ground. There's a breeze but it's not cool or threatening, it's friendly. Matty's eighteen now, he's of age.

On the other side of the race to see who gets to the pile of leaves first, there's her. She's dressed as simple as if she'd just gotten up, the blue skinny jeans and a black shirt with a print of some band scratched by the number of times she's washed. They're both older, but running down the alleys of New Castle looks like they're 12 still.

The muddy shoes, their coats that shelter them both, her bracelet tied to his hand, the kiss on the cheek when greeting each other, the butterflies every time they look at each other. The celebration of walking, the adrenaline of winning the race to the leaves and rolling in them.

Matty abandons everything else, leaving behind the nightmares, his parents' parties and sleepless nights when he has her. He's happy with her, he feels protected and nothing can hurt him. He loves her, with all his heart. He's eighteen, newly grown, wears glasses that slip on the tip of his nose but make him look smart. It has some protruding pimples between the cheek and forehead, but in sunlight it still looks like a baby's skin, fragile to the touch.

He doesn't know when he fell so in love with her, he doesn't know when he found the connection and when it began to appear in his innermost dreams. He couldn't stop thinking about her and all her dreams, the dress she wore on her birthday, the hug after the holidays. Every touch gives Matty years to live, and although he's been a sad kid for most of his life, he'll always be grateful that she changed that.

"You are eighteen, you can run fast." She says in a competitive tone, without slowing down.

"I will win, idiot." He's self-proclaimed.

"And if you do, what will you get? A painful coronation as king of the leaves." She jokes and throws herself headfirst on the leaves of the ground. "I told you."

But Matty was willing to win.

"I already decided my prize." Vitorea approaching the leaves, diving into them.

"You didn't wi-"

Matty doesn't think about what's going on, he just lets the impulse take him further and control him. It may be his only chance, and it may ruin it, but he have to try before he let any more time pass.

She is in shock on the leaves when she feels the lips of Matty on top of hers. She doesn't understand what's happening, or if it's really happening. The only thing she remembers afterwards is feeling Matty's hand squeezing her cheek with soft caresses. He kisses as much as he can, and after a while she gets used to the movement.

They go on like this, without saying a word for many minutes. Their sequence and their need is to kiss until the lack of breath wakes them up, smile with their noses stuck and merge again. Maty tastes like mint and chocolate, so it's the flavor she'll love the most for the next two years. Teenagers at the height of their purest love.

"Didn't I tell you? I would win." Matty comments when both feel they have shared too much saliva, but he does not take his hand off her cheek.

The wind is blowing in both heads. They have never known love this way, and they will remember it so well for the years that this love lasts, and for a few more.

Actually, and though Matty doesn't know it yet, she, sitting in Matty's house, is thinking about the same fall of memories. She feels like she's about to die and the best years and moments of her life go by, they've always had that facility of telepathic connection without having to try. Also because, for a long time, it was the memory they most enjoyed in years.

Matty then sees, in his memories, everything he's longed for for so many years. Midnight getaways, intense kissing at nightclubs, family meals, she dressed in him on Sundays, family trips, snow wars with her kisses sunk in the snow. He sees fireworks now that he remembers her, how he was first in everything for her and how she has marked him even more than he can say.

After that comes the band, and even before and after the previous names. But he focuses on when the band is already confirmed as Drive Like i Do and then like 1975, he sees her sitting at the table listening to them rehearsing, he sees heer at the clubs drinking beer and screaming crazy when he comes out in his most misaligned ensemble.

Matty may never have said it like that, but the girl he fell in love with is part of the band just like them. Almost the entire first album has its muse, in each of the stanzas and in each of the notes of the compass. She has followed him for all these years, it has been his greatest point of inspiration and of genuine and re-created love. She has given him the best years when he was twenty, he has written the songs he enjoys most thanks to her.

But equally, to say that he hasn't forgotten her or that he's remembered her like that for fifteen years without seeing her since she left in her twenties, would be lying. He remembered her for years, but then he was no longer present in her mind.

She can't judge him. Maybe she waited longer, but she had to move on anyway.

But it's okay, they existed at the time they had what. They learned enough from each other to remember each other fondly.

"You think about that autumn too, didn't? "During all this trance, the connection has become stronger. The discomfort is ignored, and she ends up sitting next to him.

"You are inside my mind, literally." He laughs with his eyes full of glass. He just had a recession that knocked him down. "Yes, I thought about it."

"That autumn was the best of my life. The fucking golden time." She confesses, with the moon now fully reflecting her. He looks at her with a longing smile, he also misses feeling so complete. "I have loved you for so many years and I think I could do it for more."

She complains hugging herself. Matty leaves the previous state and now the alcohol seems to have lost its effect. He extends his hand to put it behind the brunette girl's back and draw her in. The woman's head rests on his chest.

"I have loved you too, you know? The first album is about you." He kisses her hair, but she can't help but cry. They are breaking up with each other next to them and that's why they prefer not to be seen. It's too strong for both. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?" She looks up. The brown eyes meet the eyes of the british man.

"I-I screwed up that June afternoon, and I carried the blame for many years. I've never really been able to apologize, and I know the last thing you got from me was a horrible argument. I'm sorry, it won't fix something so many years later, but it's sincere." He manages to loosen a gear that has been weighing on him for a long time. He finds serenity in the brightness of the moon, and though he knows he can't go back in time, when she intertwines his hands he thinks he hasn't gone too far.

"Thank you for that. I know it's your party, but you don't have to cry to the end." She kisses his cheek and wipes his tears with her fingernails painted dark red, then returns to his neck. She repents and prefers to sit in front of him. "But it was true, wasn't it? Did you fuck everybody in this town?" She asks, without any resentment or sense of judgment.

"You compromised me, honey." He nods nervously accompanied by a laugh. In fact, he's still crying, but he's feeling much better. More airy, more connected and more peaceful. "I missed the car and the argument."

The two laugh at each other, it's an atmosphere that has now become more comfortable than ever. She has got her makeup destroyed by tears and he is s getting water marks through the seams of his shirt.

"The end of that hallway was fateful." She ironizes it with a recharged energy that dances inside. It feels as if she is now the final part of a song that breaks the melody and raises the instruments to a higher level to close it in the greatest ecstasy. "Even so, maybe you were right a few years ago. You needed more than me." She points to itself and then points to the atmosphere.

"Sorry, I don't get it." He feels bewitched by her words, but is so deep inside that he can't even think about what she's saying.

He just knows she comes, again. He sees her crawling and crawling up to his lap. He's afraid that this will still be a bad trick in his head and that tomorrow she'll never have been here. She'll be in another country, with someone else, and without him. His heart pumps like it has seldom done.

He knows they're soul mates, or he used to know, and now he's reconfirming it. Now there's only one thing that separates them and one thing that could bring them together.

"You needed a cigarette, alcohol and a sad conversation." She finally answers, as she settles down to her mercy on his lap. Matty feels like he has a fever when he feels the back of her palm on his face. It's been floating for over 15 minutes. "As i do."

After this, it just happens.

After 15 years, they're kissing in Matty's backyard. The two cry in between, because they haven't recovered from the emotional delirium they just had, but the fireworks they once had at eighteen come back the second their lips touch.

He hasn't changed, Matty still smells like chocolate and mint. She neither, she tastes the same as always does, she still tastes well enough to satiate Matty. They remain exactly the same for each other and what they still need.

The kiss does not have a taste to be described by or a unique feeling. It is the taste of remembrance and reunion, of melancholy, of adolescence, it is pure nostalgia in its splendor. It tastes like sadness, the tears of the last time they argued, and in turn it tastes as the ice cream they ate holding hands in the park, the chocolate they always gave each other as a gift. It tastes as Christmas food and the summer breeze. It's all together in one, and that's why they don't bother to feel sorry for how the waterfalls in the eyes accumulate coming down later.

A kiss, that's all. Matty doesn't want to think, but he inevitably does and finds only two options.

Tomorrow you will both remember this and you will both retire by lowering your guard and remember it as a secret. There is no one around to prove the presence and existence of the woman he has there, no one has seen her and the easiest excuse is to say that he simply confused everything with someone else because of the amount of beer. Or they could tempt fate and stay there, they could heal the wound and they could try again to have the best they ever had.

But now, does it matter?

"Hey." She puts pressure on his hair. He opens his eyes feeling fuller and more human than ever. "Happy birthday, Matty. The birthday boy always needs a gift."

let me know what you think about it. my taglist is always open. 🤍

[blondwhowrites]

Princess!reader who had a long day and is chilling with the slytherins,leaning back on the couch while matt smokes,getting high with the others but everyone is beging so clingy!

Pansy trying to kiss your cheek,enzo playing with the sleeve of your hoodie,draco playing with your hair and youre just so clustered and overwhelmed,your face scrunched and matt and theo whos now basically your bf too norice(more theo bc i dont think matt would notice until ita evident to everyone)

You become rlly irritable n mean and matt or theo notice and take you to the dorms :(

Sometimes it's overwhelming how much the group loves you—especially when they are high. It's like the drugs amplified all of their neediness by ten. And while you loved all of them dearly, sometimes it was just too much for you. The smell of the weed filled your nostrils making your face scrunch up in mild disgust.

"Matty..." You mewl, tilting your head to look at your boyfriend who currently sat laid back in an armchair a lit joint in-between his lips. You frowned, wanting to sob when your boyfriend didn't hear your cry for help.

"Princess?" A soft voice crooned from behind you, and, oh, all the tension you felt instantly left your body. "Teddy.." you mumbled, gently pushing off Pansy from your lap, to which she whined. You made your way over to Theo and crawled into his lap, letting out a soft whine. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and pawed at his shirt to get his attention. "I wanna go upstairs"

Theo nodded his head and handed his joint to Draco. He pulled you further into his lap and gently spread your legs, taking the hint you wrapped your legs around his waist and hooked your arms hooked around his neck. He let out a soft grunt as he pulled himself off the couch with you wrapped tightly around him, while his hands rested on your bum to hold you up.  "Come on, princess, let's get you to bed, hm?" He sent Mattheo a knowing look—silently gesturing for him to follow.

Mattheo pressed the bud of his joint into his palm, not even flinching at the stinging pain. He threw it to the side and stood up. "Oh princess are you overwhelmed?" He cooed following behind you and Theo.

Before you knew it, you were being placed down on Mattheo's bed, with both boys crawling to both of your sides. "I'm sorry for ruining your guys smoke sesh," you mumbled, pulling the big, fluffy, blanket that Mattheo had bought just for you over the three of you.

"Hey—no pouting." Mattheo's hand slithered down to your chest, squeezing your breast. "You could never ruin anything, Princess." 

Theo rolled over onto his side, facing you, and cupped your cheek. "Mattheo's right, princess, you could never ruin anything." 

[abiiors]

persephone - matty x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this is kinda loosely based on the myth of persephone and also this is just one interpretation of it, obv several exists in the media :) and like matty's barely hades lmao, this is mostly just the connection of persephone, demeter and spring ♡ cw: this contains themes of parental neglect, dysfunctional families, emotional abuse/neglect and alcoholism, and they're very much PRESENT and DETAILED. this isn't angst but it's def bittersweet (emphasis on the bitter whoops) wc: 5.1k

the first word she learns is “mama”. 

she has a faint memory of this—a woman with shining brown hair, smiling and cheering at her. everything is blurred around the edges and filtered in through a haze. everything has a foggy white quality to it but the woman’s eyes are crystal clear and looking at her, focused solely on her. she has a memory of others laughing and clapping along, encouraging her to say the word again and again. 

mama.

the brown haired woman looks tired—she’s young and, looking back, barely even an adult. but the woman smiles at her and coos along. “mama,” the woman says in an exaggerated baby voice and points to herself. 

“mama,” she babbles again at the woman she now recognises as her mother. the woman gives her a bland smile, playing with her almost absently. the woman even lets her grab onto her fingers and bite on them—not that it counts much as biting, she barely has teeth at this point. 

the next memory she has is of an older man with a freckled happy face and salt-n-pepper hair. he throws her up in the air and catches her until she’s giggling and breathless and light as air. he's often at their dining table, peeling pomegranates.

mama says she can't eat them yet—they're of course a choking hazard for a baby her age. but the old man peals it for mama, because mama looks happy when she sits next to him and pops the seeds into her mouth, sighing at the sweetness.

“these are delicious, daddy,” mama says to him and he smiles at mama with all the tenderness in the world.

when mama needs a break from her, he takes her to the nearby pond, and lets her touch leaves and rocks. he points at the tiny things in the water and says a word she barely recognises. 

fishies.

he clicks his tongue and waits for her to imitate the word, but she only claps her hands and says “mama” again. 

the man laughs. “let’s get you home to mama then.”

the younger woman gets mad at him when they get home though. mama grabs all the treasure—their entire day’s hard work—and puts it away somewhere where she can never reach it again. 

the man grumbles about it too but she’s far too young yet to understand words and tone, much less full blown fights. all she knows is a distinct sharp feeling of fear when mama snatches her away from the old man’s hands and puts her away in a room alone. 

there are white bars around her that she can’t climb, even though she cries and cries and screams for mama. even when a pungent smell fills the room and she feels uncomfortable wetness in her onesie. 

but mama doesn’t come. and the old man’s voice can’t reach her anymore. there’s only the sound of her cries and an eerie music box lullaby that plays on repeat as if it would ever be enough to pacify her.

mama doesn’t come for hours. 

years later, she’d know why mama can’t be bothered. 

the last time she calls her mother “mama” is when she’s seven years old. 

it’s rained all night and the backyard is wet and muddy. mama grimaces the moment she looks out the window but for a seven year old girl, it’s the most fun thing to ever exist. mama makes a sound of disgust when she runs outside, whooping with joy and slipping and sliding in the mud. 

all she wishes for is a companion now—a sibling or a dog or a cat, she’s not picky. a friend works too, but she’s not entirely sure where someone gets those. 

“if you get mud on my carpets, i swear!” mama shakes her fist from the back door but she can’t care less.  

she’s drenched in mud and having way more fun than she’s had in days. so much so that she doesn’t even realise when mama shakes her head and goes back inside. 

the winter chill is almost gone, there’s even a few little saplings sprouting from the ground and she can’t wait for the whole backyard to be filled with weird little weeds and wallflowers. she can’t wait until it’s warm enough to sit outside in the afternoons and make her little witchy potions from mud and weeds and flowers and see if any butterflies would be curious enough to land near her. (or maybe even on her like they do in the movies she’s seen!) 

she forgets the movies for a moment, though. today is the best day a girl could have. 

her grampy—her grandpa—is supposed to visit too, and she knows he’s going to bring treats; sweet honey from the hive on their farm or tiny red strawberries that dribble juice down her chin. she knows he’ll sit in their kitchen and peel her a pomegranate (she can eat those now!) and tell her about the new calf on the farm. (she’s asked this story twice now but it only gets better each time) it’s all so exciting that she even forgets about her aversion to the kitchen for a bit, forgets how a pit opens in her stomach every time she has to be in the kitchen with mama. 

she can’t wait for the after, but right now she runs through her backyard again, whooping and cheering and smiling. 

she’s slipping and slipping, just like before. the fence comes closer, her little mind tries to calculate the distance, her feet try to slow down but the mud’s grown too slippery and she just can’t stop, can’t put her arms up in time. 

her jaw collides with the fence with a sickening crunch. pain flares in her mouth along with the sharp coppery taste of blood. it almost makes her gag and she tries to spit it out. something white falls on the ground, covered in blood—her first tooth, the one that’s been loosening for days. 

she stays curled on the ground, covered in mud, sobbing and spitting out more blood until her saliva runs clear, then she somehow shuffles inside, hoping mama would have a magic fix. 

mama’s eyes widen the moment she walks in, dried mud crusted around her feet, blood on her chin.

“what the fuck?!” mama yells, the glass in her hand jostles dangerously and the dark liquid inside almost splashes out. mama’s words also have an unnerving, slurred quality to them but she’s too much in pain to care. 

“what’s wrong with you?!” mama screeches again and gets up. through tears, she manages to splutter out what happened. she shows mama the tooth, (girls in school have told her about the tooth fairy) but mama only smacks her hand away. 

“i told you not to get mud on my carpets. who’s going to clean them huh? not you, you’re useless. you’re all useless.”

more tears fall on her cheeks and she looks at mama, horrified. but mama slams the glass hard enough on the table that a crack goes through it. she’s worried mama’s going to yell at her more, but mama only yanks the mop from the corner and waits for her to move out the way. 

she takes the hint, grateful it didn’t get worse. she tries not to get the mud onto anything else but a little gets on the bathroom tiles anyway. 

under the hot water, she finally lets her sobs free and scrubs her little body until the skin is all red and raw and stings from the temperature of the water. until each stream of the showerhead feels like a bb bullet. 

then she gets on her hands and knees and scrubs the bathroom floor clean, occasionally flicking her tongue over the now-empty spot where the tooth used to be. it tastes vaguely salty, and it still aches but not as much, definitely nothing in comparison to her jaw which is turning a nasty shade of purple. her tooth’s still safe on the counter, though—free of blood and mud now. gleaming white. 

at least that’s the saving grace of the day. at least she’ll get a visit from the tooth fairy. 

grampy cancels his visit—his knees hurt, mama says—but she tries not to be miffed about it. she’ll make sure to get grampy something nice with the money from the tooth fairy. 

that night she gingerly places the tooth on the bed, carefully places the pillow on top so that the tooth is protected from all sides. nice and snug. 

then she closes her eyes, dreaming of tiny fluttering wings and shiny pennies. but the tooth fairy never visits at all. 

her mum ages rapidly in a decade. by the time she’s seventeen, her mum’s already gone grey—unravelling at the seams, fraying with each passing day. not that anyone’s seen her mum in days. or months even. her mum’s not coherent enough to hang out with people most of the time. 

she’s started spending less and less time at home. it helps to have a part time job on top of school—a place that delivers chinese food. a couple guys from her school work there too, not that she really knows a lot of them. except one. 

matty. 

he’s the one person she’s ever considered a friend. 

the one person who’s been worthy of that title. 

matty’s all casual smiles and laughs—he flirts shamelessly and kisses people on the cheeks when he gets drunk. he offers her fags and spliffs even though she always denies them. he nicks leftover chinese so they can eat it in his car, giggling and laughing, way prouder of their heist than they should be. 

the food tastes better when she’s with him. everything’s better when she’s with him—even the shitty, off-brand beer he keeps buying. with him it tastes like expensive champagne. not that she knows what champagne tastes like to begin with, but she imagines the bubbles settling on her tongue feel like his laugh spilling from his lips. she imagines it tastes like the sparkle in his eyes.

matty looks at her differently too—she’s not stupid, she knows what interest looks like. 

she’s been the object of fascination since she turned thirteen and developed boobs seemingly overnight. she shies away from attention most of the time—wears t-shirts twice her size, keeps her hair a bland brown. she barely even looks at boys or men who tell her she looks mature for her age. but when matty looks at her, it’s different. 

when matty looks at her, she wants to be seen. 

“you sure it’s okay for us to be out so late?” he asks one night when they’re sat in his car. the world around them has already gone quiet—it is a school night after all, she should be in bed too. but she sees the cigarette dangling loosely between his lips and for a second she forgets to respond. matty quirks and eyebrow and she realises she’s been staring at his mouth. 

“my mum won’t mind.” her response is a bit curt, but she leaves it at that. there’s no need to mention that her mum’s probably drowning in wine by now, tripping and spilling the liquid onto floors and sofas and carpet. 

“she must be chill,” matty hums to himself and takes a drag of his cigarette. she watches him hold it into his lungs, some of it escapes through his nose and curls around his face. 

she keeps quiet, unwilling to get into that topic of conversation. 

“i’m thinking of dropping out,” matty says quietly once the cigarette turns into a tiny stub. his voice is carefully neutral, monotonous. she whirls to look at him, jaw practically dropping to the (dirty) floor of his car. matty stares straight ahead, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, but the tension in his shoulders gives him away. 

images flash in front of her—walking the school corridors alone, eating lunch alone, doing her homework alone. working at her job alone. 

alone, alone, alone. no one but her mum around her again. that wretched fucking woman occupying every atom of her existence.

“did you h—”

“i heard you.” her voice has gone quiet now but there’s an edge to it that doesn’t go unnoticed by matty. 

“and?”

“and what? if i said no, would that convince you to stay?”

she doesn’t mean to sound so sharp, so bitter. certainly not so selfish. but an ugly feeling bubbles up so deep inside her that all the excitement from before just dies—all the butterflies from just a moment ago, now dead and rotten, making her feel nauseous. 

“no but—”

“i don’t want to tell you why it’s irresponsible, matty. frankly, i don’t know if i believe that myself but… it’s… it’s big.”

his face falls further and further the more she speaks. with each word she wants to press a hand to her mouth, wrap it around her throat so it would strangle everything else that’s about to come out. with every word she wants him to tell her to just shut the fuck up, that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. but matty only looks at her and a different sort of quiet spreads around the car. 

“you think this… this thing you’ve got going on. music. you think that’s enough?! you play for fucking retirement homes, matty! you play for old people who probably won’t even remember what they heard twenty minutes later. and you want to–what? you want to leave your education incomplete? you want to leave a-levels and school and your job? you just want to…leave?”

which is the real problem. 

he gets the luxury of leaving. 

she gets the misery of staying. 

“thanks,” he says dryly, trying to roll his eyes. she catches the extra shine they now have, she catches the way his throat bobs. and suddenly the car is so stifling she can’t stand it anymore—can’t stand the taste of the nasty, cheap beer and the too-salty, too-greasy chinese they’re eating and she can’t stand the cliche, indie rock music playing at low volume. 

she can’t stand him anymore. 

“i need to go,” she says curtly, wiping her hands on her jeans and already halfway out the door when matty grabs her wrist. 

“wait—”

“what.”

“n-nothing.” it’s the first time she’s heard him stutter, first time he’s ever said something without sounding completely sure of himself. “let me just drop you home.”

it’s also the first time he’s offered to do that. 

“i have my bike.” besides there’s no need for you to see the state of the house right now, no need to come across that belligerent woman in case she’s still conscious. 

“it’s late.”

she can’t really argue with that logic. it is almost 11 at night and she might not live in a very shady neighbourhood but it’s still not the safest at this time of the night. still, she doesn’t want matty driving her around and dropping her home. that feels too vulnerable. besides, she just wants to be away from him.

he’s leaving anyway, she might as well start practising that from now on. 

“i’ll text you when you get home,” she mumbles and forces her wrist out of his hand. 

she’s out of the car and slamming the door shut before he can even protest. she’s marching across the empty road and to her bike before the absence of his warmth registers, before her body realises that she can no longer feel his skin against hers. 

before she really has a chance to let anything sink in. 

matty honks and she hisses. 

“what!”

“i’m following you home.” and then the little shit rolls up the window. 

she has half a mind to stubbornly wait him out, see how long he stays if she just refused to move but that’s a stupid plan. like it or not, it’s happening. he’s following her home. 

like it or not, she’s going to have to let him. 

“i’ll only accept your apology on one condition.”

it’s two days later that they’re back in his car—her with a guilty conscience, matty with a smug smile. 

“ugh, if you’re about to be a boy about it!”

“you haven’t even heard me out yet!”

the pit in her stomach shifts, the hollow cavity catching in her throat until she has to forcefully clear her throat and blink rapidly. it’s not that she’s completely forgiven him for wanting to leave, she hasn’t completely given up on that yet either. but she realises the way she went about it was perhaps…a bit shitty (okay it was definitely a lot shitty) 

“spring dance”

“what?!”

the words jerk her out of her thoughts so violently that she almost forget about everything else for a second. the spring fucking dance. 

matty healy, the boy who nicks chinese food and drinks cheap beer and wears ripped, skinny jeans wants to go to the spring dance. 

“right don’t look at me like i’ve asked you out to a strip club—”

“that’d be more in character—”

“oi! just… let me speak!”

and so she shuts up, puts her hands under her thighs so she won’t impulsively chew on her nails while her crush is…trying to ask her out. 

matty rolls his eyes at her and the fond smile on his face takes her breath away. 

“i want to do it. i want one last cheesy school experience before i…” he trails off, maybe not wanting to finish that sentence for her sake. or maybe because it affects him more than she thinks. “and i want to do it with you.”

“me? ooh like i’m special or something.” she tries for it to be teasing and playful, but the words come out sounding so hopeful that it knocks the breath out of her. 

“don’t pretend,” matty’s voice goes all quiet then. serious too, and suddenly he can’t meet her eyes. “don’t pretend like you don’t see it.”

“see what…”

there’s a lot in her life that she pretends not to see—half the things at home, sometimes her failing marks, sometimes the way other people look at her and whisper. but he is the one person she can’t pretend with. can’t pretend to not see the way he looks at her and acts around her. can’t pretend to not notice the way his touches linger and his smiles last longer. 

even now, she can’t pretend like he’s not looking right at her lips, leaning in a smidge at a time. wishing she’d close the gap. 

involuntarily, her eyes flutter shut. anticipating. 

she wants to feel it so fucking bad—his hands on her waist, his fingers on her skin. she wants to feel his faint stubble against the palm of her hand, his lips on hers. most of all she just wants to feel him close, to feel his breath on her skin. 

matty jerks away and a loud horn of a car breaks the spell. 

“fucking dicks!” matty rolls the window down and yells at the retreating figure of teenagers in a car, one of them even flips him off and next to him she seethes. 

fuck this, fuck everything. why can’t she just have nice things. 

why must someone come and ruin it every time. 

it takes them both a minute to breathe and settle down and meet each other’s eyes again. even then there’s a slight pink tinge on his face that makes him look adorable. 

“sorry about that…” matty mumbles and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “so…spring dance?”

“i’d love that.”

she hopes the smile she gives him is genuine. she hopes he sees it plain and simple all over her face—all the words she hasn’t said and cannot say. 

matty smiles wide. “then i forgive you.”

and it’s like a weight gets lifted off her chest. 

“you look pretty,” her mum’s eyes roam over her body, eyeing her from head to toe, flicking over certain places again and again until she almost feels naked—like the blush pink fabric doesn’t even exist. like her mum sees right through her. 

years of this has taught her that it’s not a compliment. if anything, it’s just another trap, so she focuses on her reflection in the mirror and smiles with as much warmth as she can muster. “thanks!”

her mum reeks of wine already, maybe even a little weed but it’s nearly not enough today which is surprising. she would have expected her mum to be at some bar by now. 

“i’ll be a bit late. don’t worry i have my keys though.” 

then she scoffs to herself. when has her mum ever worried? 

“who’s taking you? to the dance.”

“wha–? oh. uh, just a few friends. only met them recently.” she winces, trying to get the last of the curls in place, trying not to be too cagey in front of her mum. she doesn’t want her mum to think she’s hiding something—mostly because it never ends well, and she can’t be arsed to deal with another screaming match right now. not when there’s a ball of anxiety and anticipation in her chest, wound so tightly that it’s slowly choking the air out of her lungs. 

she just wants to be outside. she just wants matty to see her, to call her pretty and maybe even kiss her. 

she just wants this one night with him. 

just one. 

her mum huffs and stumbles into the room. everything about this woman wants to make her shrink away—the days old stink of sweat and alcohol and cigarettes, the grime under her fingernails, her beady stare… 

even when her mum’s fingers twirl around her curl, she fights not to shrink back, to slap her mum’s hand away. 

“you look pretty,” her mum repeats. “prettier than i did when i was your age.” 

her stomach churns at the cruel edge to those words but her mum isn’t done yet. “huh–not so easy to be pretty with a seven month pregnant belly. like a fucking whale…”

and there it is. 

her fault that her mum was robbed off having normal teenage experiences. 

“right, mum,” she smiles shakily, “need to get going.”

it’s almost a miracle that her mum doesn’t say anything else. mum just backs away and lets her gather her things. she quickens her pace, heart beating in her throat, hands trembling when she picks up her small purse. 

it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay

“don’t spread your legs for that boy.”

she freezes in place, almost out the door.

“wha—”

“act dumb again and i’ll make sure you never see that boy again.” 

“mum…” she swallows harshly, prays that the tears pricking her eyes don’t spill down her cheeks. then she nods and books it out of there. better to go before her mum changes her mind. 

better to go before leaving becomes impossible. 

matty makes her forget all of it. 

the moment she sees him, the shakiness in her limbs disappears, her heart thuds in her chest for all the right reasons. he’s in a suit. a fucking suit that makes him look all grown up and handsome but then his unruly curls go all over the place and suddenly she’s laughing with the boy she’s had a crush on. 

no matter what he wears and what he looks like, he will always be that boy.

the school auditorium is full of flowers—some fake, some real. all the girls around her look stunning, dressed in colourful pretty gowns. it’s all spring incarnate. 

all night he dances effortlessly, twirls so many people around him like he’s friends with everyone. and maybe he is—he’s certainly always been so much more popular than she has. she should be the one leaving. 

but she also can’t help but stare. she wonders if he is a daydream, something her lonely mind conjured up during hours filled with boredom or after long, exhausting fights with her mum. and suddenly, he is looking right at her. sweat makes his white shirt stick to his body in the most flattering way possible, makes his sweaty curls fall into his eyes until he can barely see straight.

stop ogling! 

“staring is rude, you know?” he walks—no, saunters—over to her. suddenly, there’s not enough air left in the giant school auditorium. 

“you’ve been staring too,” she counters. and she’s right. all night she’s caught his long lingering glances that make her feel like she’s coming alive. 

like a flower blooming in spring. 

“you kinda make it hard not to stare.” so does he, she thinks. but everything, from his half smile to his relaxed posture, tells her not to inflate his ego further. she stifles the faint blush creeping up her face and shakes her head bashfully.

“come on,” he says. 

at first, she doesn’t realise what’s happening. then he whisks her away to the dance floor and her shriek of surprise turns into one of delight. she has never danced like this before but that night they dance till her heart pounds in her ears, till she can’t stand straight anymore. then they sway softly, in spite of the rock and roll playing in the background. 

“you’re beautiful,” matty smiles at her, sincere and real. 

if she discovers anything about herself that early spring night, it would be her love for dancing. it’s a feeling she’s never felt before—something that almost feels like…freedom. it’s foreign at first, all the blood coursing through her body at the speed of lightning. she tries to keep track of how many times she shrieks and laughs and jumps in excitement. all of it until matty picks her up and twirls her around. 

round and round until she’s breathless and light as air and fucking free. 

somewhere after that, she loses count. at the end of the night, her dress clings to her and matty can’t stop staring. can’t stop letting his eyes roam all over her until he’s grinning himself. his smile is boyish. perfect. and just as she’s getting self-conscious, he pulls her closer. 

“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

next thing she knows, matty is holding her softly against the wall and kissing her bare neck. he softly caresses her waist through her dress and she shivers against the warm spring breeze. she can feel him shaking too, almost like he’s…nervous to do anything more. to actually kiss her and shatter the moment. she can’t have that, can’t let this moment slip through her fingers. 

“kiss me,” she pleads and matty moves in an instant, his warm mouth capturing hers. like he was only waiting for her permission.  

his lips are a little chapped. far from perfect and yet electricity zings through her all at once. if it weren’t for the wall, her legs might have given out from under her. she might just be a heap on the floor, surrounded by all the spring flowers. 

matty kisses with such reckless abandon that it steals her breath away. kisses her until her heart swells in her chest, ready to burst. her fingers tangle themselves into his hair and she kisses him back with everything in her. she can’t care less about how public this is, there’s only him in this moment. 

only the two of them on a warm spring night suspended in this one moment.

she almost whines when matty pulls back. annoyed beyond belief that he’d pull away now. 

“mat—”

“it’s late.”

“it’s not!”

“it is, love.” suddenly his voice has gone gentle, almost quiet. matty pulls his old phone out of his pocket (with the screen cracked and all) and holds it in front of her. the screen flashes with 11:17

shit where did all the time go?

matty makes no move to untangle himself from her arms, still pressed against her. in her ead she forms a childlike grudge against his phone. if it weren’t for it, they would have never known what time it was…

“i hate this.” her voice comes out thick with tears and something wet hits her nose. “i don’t want to go, i don’t want you to go. please.” but even then she knows how unfair it is to put him in this situation. 

matty’s caresses her cheek, wiping away her tears, smiling at her like she’s the most gentle precious thing in the whole world. 

and maybe she is. in his world. 

“you’ll finish school too,” he says, voice a low murmur, “and then you have a uni to attend. so much shit to do. god, you’re brilliant enough to get everything you want.”

but it’s you i want. still she doesn’t say it. not just yet. 

she nuzzles his palm instead, placing a soft kiss on it. “i hate spring. i wish it was autumn instead. i’d be starting uni at least.”

“and you will,” matty reassures again. “you’re going to do so many things.”

“you won’t be here to see them…”

and there it is, all the things she’s been holding deep inside laid bare. matty looks at her for a long time and smiles sadly. “who said that? i’d find you, we will keep in touch. isn’t spring meant to be about new beginnings and all that? so why don’t we start a pact?”

“that’s a silly idea,” she teases but even then she’s eager to know what he means. 

matty ignores it. “stay here for spring and summer, finish school. i’ll find you when autumn comes.”

“you’d really do that?”

“who’s gonna help you move into uni halls huh?”

through tears she laughs. only matty could make it sound so exciting. only matty could make her hate it so much less. 

she doesn’t trust herself to speak anymore so she kisses him instead. he tastes like peaches, mint and something sweet. the very first boy she’s ever loved. the boy she will always love. 

he’s leaving soon, she knows it. who knows maybe she will wake up tomorrow and he will be gone. she feels all that passes between them and she tries to send all her longing and all her yearning down that bond. for a brief second she is determined to make matty stay through sheer willpower. 

but that would be the most selfish thing she’s ever done. and so she smiles and lets him go. 

matty might be leaving but she’ll always have this one warm spring night. even as the clock inches towards midnight and a new day threatens to arrive.

for a brief moment she wonders if she can make time stand still. this one moment stretched into eternity. 

but the minutes tick by anyway. and tomorrow comes anyway.

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl @sinarainbows @starvchaser @noacfapologyst @abouttofillhisshoes @tbhnotthatfunny

add yourself to the taglist