kate-the1975

[kate-the1975]

Black Friday // Ross MacDonald x Reader

A/N: This is very depressing so I apologise in advance 😭. Grieving a lot recently so took out all my emotions and threw them into a Ross oneshot LOL

W/C: 3,192 words

C/W: death of a family member, funerals, funeral home, grief. If any of these trigger you then please don’t read xxx

The home studio was alive with the sound of music. The deep hum of synths, the rhythmic tap of a keyboard, and the occasional flick of a guitar string filled the room. Ross and Matty were focused on a new track, their backs turned to the living room where you sat, curled up on the couch, a book you'd borrowed from the library a few days ago resting in your lap, eyes flickering across the pages but not really absorbing the words. Most of your focus on the music coming from the room behind you. The afternoon sun spilled through the windows, casting soft shadows on the floor.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table.

It wasn't unusual for your mum to call. But today, something in the pit of your stomach told you that it wouldn't be an ordinary conversation, since she never normally rang you at the weekend. You picked up the phone, your fingers lingering slightly over the answer button when you saw your mum's name on the screen.

"Hey, Mum," you said, trying to sound casual, though your heart was already beating faster.

Your mother's voice came through on the other end, thick with emotion. "Sweetheart, I need to tell you something."

Your stomach churned as the words slowly sunk in, each syllable heavier than the last. "Your Grandad... he's gone."

For a moment, you felt like the world around you was dissolving, the walls of the house melting into a blur. You blinked, throat tightening. "What? What do you mean? How?" Your voice trembled with a mix of confusion and disbelief.

"I'm so sorry," Your mother's voice was soft but broken. "He passed away, unexpectedly. I—I didn't know how to tell you. Your Dad wanted to tell you himself but he's distraught."

Your hands went clammy, and you felt the air rush out of your lungs, as if your body was trying to shut down, to hide from the reality of it. Your grandfather—your dear, gentle grandfather—had been a constant in your life. You hadn't prepared for this.

"I—I don't know what to do," You whispered, the tears welling up quickly, too fast to stop. You covered your face with your hands as the sobs came, choking and helpless.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before your mum spoke again, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'll be over to you as soon as I can be."

The sobs were so loud, you could hardly hear anything over them. You barely managed to end the call, hand falling limply into your lap. It felt like you were sinking, body feeling heavier and heavier as if gravity itself had grown stronger in the wake of the news. Your grandfather—the man who had always been there for you, who had made you laugh even on the darkest days—was gone.

A loud, gut-wrenching sob escaped your lips.

Matty's fingers froze mid-synth chord, glancing up at Ross. "Did you hear that?" he asked, concern clouding his voice.

Ross didn't answer. He already knew that sound couldn't be good—the sound of anguish coming from the living room.

In an instant, Ross was out of his chair and rushing toward the door. Matty followed suit, but he hung back, giving Ross the space he needed to reach you first. Ross's chest tightened as he pushed open the door to the living room and found you on the couch, shoulders shaking with sobs. The phone lay forgotten next to you.

He froze for a split second, unsure of what to do, but then instinct kicked in. He knelt down in front of you, his heart aching as he reached for your hands. Your face was streaked with tears, eyes red and swollen.

"Oh, baby, I'm right here. What's happened, my love?" he said softly, squeezing your cold hands gently.

You looked at him, face a mixture of disbelief and pain. "My Grandad... he's gone," you managed to choke out, voice barely a whisper.

Ross's heart dropped into his stomach. He couldn't even begin to imagine how you were feeling, but the look in your eyes was enough. You were lost in this storm of emotion. Drowning in it even.

"I'm so sorry," Ross whispered, his voice thick. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, pressing his forehead to your knees. He let you cry, holding you tightly as if he could somehow shield you from the pain, though he knew he couldn't.

After a few minutes, Matty fully entered the room, his face pale with worry. He stood to the side of the couch, watching the two of you in silence. He offered the two of you a small, sympathetic smile, but he could see how much hurt was radiating from the room.

Ross looked up, his eyes wet, giving Matty a look of pure sadness and hopelessness. Matty had heard the conversation from outside the room, and he instantly felt the pain he once felt when his Grandmother and Grandfather passed away.

Matty nodded at Ross silently, stepping over to place a gentle kiss on the top of your head before leaving the two of you to navigate this sudden grief in private.

——————————————————————————

The days that followed were a blur. The house was a quiet place now—too quiet, except for the occasional sound of footsteps or the low hum of the studio equipment. Ross was trying his best to be the steady presence you needed, but there was no denying how deeply the grief had settled in.

It had been two days since the news, and the weight of it still pressed down on you like a heavy blanket, and it felt like it was somehow getting heavier by the day. You hadn't spoken much, only when absolutely necessary, and even then, your words felt distant. Ross knew this wasn't something that could be fixed in a day, or even a week. He was there, though—there to make tea, hold your hand, rock you to sleep, hold you close at all times, and keep the world at bay for as long as you needed.

He'd also texted Matty, informing him on anything that was important. It was Matty, after all, who had been there for Ross when he had to navigate his own grief years ago, and vice versa. Matty was nearly like the band therapist, so whenever Ross had a minute to himself he was on the phone to him in an instant.

And the support didn't stop with Matty. George and Charli had come over to check in, dropping off some food and staying for a while to make sure you were okay. Adam and Carly had sent their condolences via text, letting you know that they were just a phone call away. While Gabbriette came over on her own with a bunch of flowers, laying beside you in your bed while the two of you hugged and talked about mindless things.

But it was Ross who had been your anchor. Every time you started to cry, he was there, pulling you into his arms and murmuring words that didn't necessarily make the pain go away, but helped it feel a little less suffocating.

When the day of the funeral came along, the funeral being on Black Friday of all days, you hadn't said much since you woke up. Ross had gone to the guest room to get dressed, giving you some space to collect herself, but when he returned, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor, looking completely lost.

He didn't say anything at first. He just moved towards you, kneeling beside you with a small huff. "You ready?" he asked softly, his voice low.

You nodded, but it was a faint motion. Ross reached out and gently cupped your chin, lifting your face so you could look him in the eyes. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here, okay? I'll be right by your side all day, and when we get home tonight we'll just head straight up to bed, live in a little world of our own, yeah?"

You nodded again, the simple idea of you and Ross cuddling in bed later giving you a lot of comfort. Your lips trembled before you spoke, words feeling physically stuck in the back of your throat. "I know you're here for me. I just... I don't know how to get through it."

Ross sighed, his thumb brushing across your cheek. "You don't have to get through it all at once. Just take it one moment at a time. I'll be right here, every step of the way."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed, and for a moment, you felt safe—like the world outside could wait.

——————————————————————————

You and Ross pulled up to the funeral home. Your family had planned to meet there before getting into the mourning cars to head off to the church. For a morning in November, it was strangely beautiful outside. It was cold, but that didn't stop the sun from rising with a comforting orange glow.

The funeral home was filled with the quiet murmur of voices, the smell of flowers, and the low, comforting hum of people gathering to pay their respects before the mass. It was a small gathering, your family wanting to keep it as intimate as possible since the church would be so packed, but the people there mattered. Ross, Matty, Gabbriette, George, Charli, Adam, and Carly—all of them were there to support you, not just in the formalities of the day, but to remind you that you weren't alone.

Ross stayed close, his hand never straying far from yours as people came over to give you their condolences. "Sorry, Ross, I'm just going to step outside for some air." You whispered to him, the whole setting of the funeral home starting to become a bit much for you, and the amount of people becoming overwhelming.

"Yeah, that's okay, love. I'll come with you." He stated, ready to move his feet towards the exit.

"No, no. I'll be okay, I promise. I just need a moment to pull myself together, alone. And, I think George has been stuck in a conversation with my Uncle Rob for too long." You joked lightly, the two of you looking over to see George nodding, clearly zoning out of the boring conversation.

"Okay, but text me if you need me and I'll come out. I love you." Ross bent down, placing a slow and gentle kiss to your lips.

"I love you most." You whispered back to him, going in for one more kiss before stepping outside, the cool air filling your lungs instantly.

You noticed Gabbriette standing nearby, leaning against the short wall at the end of the driveway, a cloud of smoke from her vape escaping her lips.

As soon as she heard footsteps coming towards her, she turned her body to face you, her eyes soft with concern as soon as her sight landed on you.

Gabbriette was always warm, always the kind of person who radiated understanding. The two of you became friends practically instantly. Bonding over your love of cooking and expensive taste in wine. Since then, she became your third sister in the '75 family, and secretly your favourite.

Still feeling the heavy weight of everything, you moved towards her, your steps tentative.

Gabbriette immediately embraced you when she saw you coming. "Hey," she whispered, "I'm so sorry, love. I know today is such a hard day, and if you need anything—anything at all—I'm right here, okay?"

The sincerity in her voice broke something loose inside you, and you hugged Gabbriette tighter than she expected. "Thank you," you whispered through the tears. "I... I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Gabbriette replied, pulling back slightly, her hands resting on your shoulders. "Just know we're all here for you. You've got a whole extra family who love you at all times."

For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of hope. It wasn't gone. Not yet. But you were starting to remember that there was still love in the world, and it was enough for this moment in time.

Gabbriette stayed with you for a while, just talking quietly, offering small words of comfort. And when the time came to leave for the mass, she stayed close, keeping your hand tightly held in hers as she walked you to the mourning car.

Ross, watching the interaction from a distance, felt a lump form in his throat. He knew he couldn't take away your pain, but seeing the love and support surrounding you gave him hope that, eventually, the weight of it all would feel a little lighter.

——————————————————————————

The house was still, the kind of still that only came after an overwhelming day. The funeral was over, the dinner and the drinks were done, and the lingering sadness that hung in the air was starting to settle into something quieter. The world outside was dark now, but the warmth inside felt like a protective cocoon, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting faint shadows on the walls.

You and Ross were in bed, the sheets tangled around the two of you, neither of you having any plans to move tonight. It was the kind of stillness that spoke louder than words—both of you exhausted, physically and emotionally, from the weight of the day. You had your head resting on Ross's chest, his arms wrapped around you, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your bare back.

The quiet between you was thick with unspoken things. But Ross knew better than to rush you. You would speak when you were ready.

The soft hum of your breathing was the only sound in the room until, after a long pause, you shifted, pressing a kiss to the side of his chest. Your voice was low, thick with the remnants of your grief. "I keep thinking about him, Ross."

Ross held you tighter, his hand resting at the base of your neck. "I know you do, baby. I can feel it. I'm here. I'm listening."

You let out a shaky breath and pulled yourself closer to him, your cheek resting against his skin, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming. It felt like you needed this—this quiet space, this closeness. You didn't want to talk to anyone else right now. You didn't have the energy for any more words. But with Ross, you didn't have to explain. He just knew.

"I'm so angry," you whispered after a moment. "Not at him. At everything else. At the world. It feels so unfair."

Ross closed his eyes and nodded, his hand gently moving up you neck to then run through your hair. "I get it," he said softly. "It is unfair. He didn't deserve to go like that."

"I was just... I was just so used to the idea of having more time with him, you know? And now... he's gone. Just like that. It was like I was fully convinced he was going to be around forever."

There was a rawness to your voice that made Ross' heart ache. He wished, with every fibre of his being, that he could take this pain away from you and have it as his own. But all he could do was be here. Hold you. Let you feel it all, without judgment.

Ross kissed the top of your head, resting his chin there for a moment before speaking again. "You don't need to carry this alone, love. You know that, right?"

You nodded against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the tears just beneath the surface. "I know. But sometimes... sometimes it feels like I have to. Like I should be able to handle it."

"You don't have to handle it," Ross said firmly. "You don't have to be strong all the time. You're allowed to feel this. He was your grandfather. And you loved him."

Your voice cracked slightly as you replied, "I don't even know if I'll ever stop missing him. He knew like the back of his hand. I sometimes think he knew me better than you do, which is near impossible, but he could always do the impossible in my mind."

Ross swallowed hard, feeling that knot in his throat again. "He was a good man, love. A great man, even" he said quietly.

"He was." You smiled, though the sadness was still there, shadowing your words. "He had this way of making everything feel less scary. Like, no matter how bad things were, I could always count on him to tell me it would be okay."

Ross pressed his lips to your forehead, his hand tightening around your waist. "He loved you, so fucking much. I could see it whenever he talked about you. And I think that's the most important thing. That love. It never goes away. Even when he's not here, it's still with you. It's still part of who you are."

You let out a soft, shaky breath, heart heavy but full. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the truth of his words sink in. Ross was right. You could feel your grandfather's love in your bones, in the memories of laughter and comfort, in the small things he had always done for you.

And, despite everything, in this moment, you felt like you could hold on to that, at least for tonight.

"I miss him so much," you murmured, the words barely a whisper.

"I know, babe. I know," Ross replied. "I miss him too."

You shifted again, this time turning slightly so you could look into Ross' eyes. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble. "Thank you for being here," you said, your voice small but full of gratitude.

Ross gave you a small, tender smile, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "You don't have to thank me. I'm always going to be here. No matter what."

You swallowed, blinking away the tears threatening to spill again. "I don't know what I would've done without you today. Without you..."

Ross's smile softened as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. He kissed your lips, holding you close as if he could anchor you in this moment forever. " Don't even stress about that. You'd never have to do anything alone. Not with me around."

The silence that followed was comfortable, filled with the unspoken promise that you two would face whatever came next—together.

And as you both lay there in the dark, wrapped up in each other's arms, you felt a little lighter. The grief would still come in waves, the emptiness of loss still felt deep inside, but for now, in this bed, with Ross beside you, you could breathe a little easier.

And that, you realized, was enough—for tonight.

[kate-the1975]

Telling my divas about the George and me lore makes me so emo.

Like we are the most supportive group chat ever 😢😢. Reminiscing so bad I might die

[kate-the1975]

The birthday party

(Matty Healy + teen!daughter!r)

warnings: angst (we’re back!), shitty dad Matty for a min, uncle George yay, yelling, just sad, reader is turning 13

a/n: what other title did you think I would choose bffr

You had been talking about it for months. There was no way he could forget. Right? He’s your dad. The only parent you’ve ever had. It’s always been just the two of you, side by side through everything. He knows you better than anyone else in the world. So why was this nagging doubt creeping into your mind this morning?

He always made it a big deal. A special breakfast, a couple of thoughtful presents to kick off the day—but this time, there was nothing. No sounds of sizzling bacon, no smell of pancakes. Just silence. You searched every corner of the house—his bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, even the backyard and guest room—but he was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t until you glanced outside that you noticed his car was missing. A knot tightened in your stomach as you reached for your phone and sent him a text, hoping for an explanation that would ease the growing sense of disappointment.

y/n | where r u???

dad | studio. y?

At first, you convinced yourself he was playing one of his usual tricks. It was exactly the kind of thing your dad would do. Let you sweat a little, only to jump out from somewhere unexpected with a goofy grin and a surprise waiting behind his back. You smiled at the thought, almost hearing his laughter in your head. That had to be it. It was all part of some elaborate birthday prank.

You didn’t reply to his text at first. The message sat unread on your phone, the screen dimming after a few seconds, like it wasn’t important. You brushed it off, continued getting ready, telling yourself this was just part of the game. The anticipation kept you going—maybe he’d burst through the door any minute with balloons and confetti, trying to catch you off guard. You could already picture his laugh, the way he’d raise his eyebrows like, ‘Gotcha!’

But with each passing minute, doubt began to creep in. You found yourself staring at the phone longer than you'd like to admit, uncertain how to respond. A part of you wanted to play along, to convince yourself it was all just a joke. But there was another, quieter part of you—a part that you didn’t want to acknowledge—that began to whisper the truth you were trying to ignore.

There was no prank, no surprise waiting for you. The sinking feeling in your stomach told you what you didn’t want to admit. He forgot your birthday. And no matter how much you tried to pretend otherwise, that truth weighed heavier with each moment of silence.

…

School had always been your escape, a place where you could drown out everything else by burying yourself in classwork and conversation. Today was no different. You told yourself if you kept busy enough, the hurt gnawing at you would fade into the background. It almost worked, until your friends surprised you at lunch.

They gathered around with smiles, handing you a cupcake, complete with a crooked candle, and a small gift they’d all chipped in on. You forced a smile, doing your best to swallow the lump in your throat. You weren’t about to ruin the moment for them. But your best friend wasn’t fooled for a second.

“So… you gonna tell me what’s really going on?” she asked, snapping you out of your daze.

You looked up quickly, startled. “What? What do you mean?” you replied, plastering on a grin. But it was thin, stretched too tight, and you knew she could see right through it.

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You walked into school looking like you just got hit by a car. You’ve been staring at your phone every five seconds, and I can tell you’re about two seconds away from crying. So, what’s up?”

The act fell apart. You swallowed hard and stared down at the half-eaten cupcake, your voice barely above a whisper. “He forgot my birthday.”

She tilted her head, confused for a moment. “Who did?”

You met her eyes, feeling a wave of shame and frustration crash over you. “My dad. He… he forgot my birthday.”

Her face fell. The disbelief in her eyes was instant, but not entirely surprising. “What?! No way,” she blurted, shaking her head.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the desire to move on from the topic growing stronger by the second. “It’s fine. It’s not that big of a deal—”

“It’s a huge deal, Y/n! He’s your dad!” She almost shouted, her voice filled with a mix of outrage and disbelief.

You mumbled, but the bitterness in your voice was unmistakable. “Yeah, well… he hasn’t really been acting like one lately.”

Her face softened instantly, guilt flashing in her eyes for snapping at you. She leaned in, her tone gentler now. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck, trying to figure out the words. “I dunno, maybe he’s just busy or dealing with his own stuff. It’s not a big deal—”

“But?” she pushed, refusing to let you brush it aside.

You hesitated before continuing. “It’s like he’s… here, but he’s not here, you know? He’s around, but we don’t talk anymore. We don’t even see each other, really. It’s like he’s some random roommate I found online. I only see him when we happen to cross paths, maybe at dinner or when I’m heading out, but even then, it’s like I’m invisible. He doesn’t even acknowledge me.”

Your friend’s face fell, and she reached out, resting her hand on yours. “That’s not right, love. You know that, don’t you?” Her voice was quiet but firm. “Maybe you should talk to him. Tell him how you’re feeling.”

You sighed heavily, feeling the weight of her suggestion. “Yeah, maybe,” you muttered, but deep down, you wondered if he’d even listen.

…

Adam found Matty slouched in a corner, next to the coffee machine and a spread of half-eaten snacks, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. The exhaustion was evident in the dark circles under his eyes. Honestly, all he wanted to do was be home, sitting on the couch with you, watching some mindless TV, shutting the world out for a few hours. But there was still work to be done. The faster he finished this album and sent it off, the sooner he could finally focus on what mattered most—you.

“I’m surprised you’re even here,” Adam said, breaking the silence as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Matty didn’t bother looking up from his phone. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Adam gave him a sideways glance. “I just figured you’d be with Y/n.”

Matty frowned. “Why?”

Adam shifted, uneasy, and took a sip of coffee. “Well, you know... thirteen is kind of a big deal.”

Thirteen. The number didn’t seem to register for Matty right away. Adam watched as the realization crept over Matty’s face like a slow, chilling wave.

“What do you—” Matty’s voice faltered, and then he froze. He stared blankly at Adam, piecing it together. The sinking dread filled the room. Adam could tell from the way Matty’s expression darkened that he had forgotten.

“Don’t tell me...” Adam muttered, but it was too late.

Matty bolted upright, shoving his phone into his pocket and grabbing his bag without a word. The room seemed to spin around him as he stormed out, not bothering to explain himself to the others. He needed to get to you. Now. 

As he sped through the streets, his mind raced. How could he have forgotten? You, his world, his everything. The one person who had completely shifted the course of his life thirteen years ago, making him into something more than just himself. He had thought about stopping somewhere—buying a cake, maybe some balloons—but the clock was ticking, and every second felt like another failure. He couldn’t waste any more time.

Guilt tightened in his chest with every mile he drove. You deserved more than a last-minute apology and a quick fix. You deserved his time, his presence, his love—especially on a day that should have been about you.

But now he was on his way, and he didn’t know how to make it up to you. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

………. 

You were curled up on the couch, sinking deeper into the cushions, letting the sweetness of the cupcakes numb the ache inside. Your friend had baked them for you—her attempt to make the day a little less unbearable—and you didn’t care about the calories or the mess you were making as frosting smeared across your fingers. It was a brief distraction from the disappointment gnawing at your chest.

Then you heard it—the keys jingling in the lock, the door creaking open. Your heart tightened. Without a second thought, you reached for the remote and turned off the TV.

“Y/n!” Your dad’s voice echoed down the hallway as he rushed in, breathless, his footsteps quick, desperate. He froze when he spotted you on the couch, eyes widening as if the sight of you caught him off guard.

“I’m sorry,” he started, his voice cracking, “I’m so s—”

He stopped mid-sentence as you stood, the movement sharp and deliberate. You clenched your jaw, refusing to meet his gaze as you gathered the crumpled cupcake wrappers and empty water bottles scattered around you. The silence between you thickened, heavy with everything unsaid.

You walked to the trash bin, each step deliberate, your frustration palpable in the way your shoulders tensed. His eyes followed you, pleading, but you refused to acknowledge him.

“Where are you going?” His voice cracked, barely holding back the desperation.

“To bed,” you answered, your tone cold, distant. Still, you wouldn’t look at him.

He glanced at his phone, confusion flickering across his face. “It’s only 7:30?” he questioned, as if the time mattered in the slightest.

“I don’t care.” Your voice was soft, almost too soft, like a balloon deflating after holding in too much air. “I just need to be away from you.”

Matty took a step closer, his hands trembling as he reached out, though he stopped short of touching you. “C’mon, baby. Please don’t do this,” he pleaded, his voice rough with guilt. “Talk to me. Let me fix this. I can make it right.”

The crack in your heart finally shattered. “I don’t care anymore.” The words tumbled out, jagged and raw, each syllable heavy with the weight of years of pent-up frustration. “I’ve let the stupid shit you’ve done slide my entire life! And I’m just… I’m so tired. I’m tired of you disappointing me over and over.”

He looked at you, his face crumpling as if he didn’t know what to say, as if he hadn’t realized just how deep the hurt ran. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I’m so sorry.”

You let out a bitter laugh, one that held no humor. “I know you are. You’re always sorry, but I’m tired of hearing it. I don’t care anymore.” Words hitting a little harsher.

He took another step toward you, his voice shaking. “Please, Y/n. Just give me a chance to fix this. Let me make it right, I’ll do anything.”

“No.” You shook your head, your resolve hardening. “You can’t fix this. You can’t even remember my fucking birthday birthday.”

His mouth opened, but no words came. The silence stretched, painful, until finally, something inside him snapped. His face twisted, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I wouldn’t have to try to remember if you weren’t here!” The words flew out, sharp and ugly, hanging in the air like a slap. His eyes widened, regret flashing through them the moment they left his lips. “I didn’t mean that,” he stammered, panic setting in. “Y/n, I—”

But it was too late. The truth of his confession hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of you. For a moment, you stood there, frozen, feeling the sting of his words sink in. Then, without another word, you turned on your heel and stomped up the stairs, each step heavier than the last.

“Y/n!” he called after you, his voice breaking with desperation. “Please, Y/n, wait! Don’t go!”

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You slammed your bedroom door with a force that rattled the house, and for a brief moment, the entire world went silent. Downstairs, Matty stood frozen in the middle of the room, his head hanging low, his body sagging under the weight of his mistake.

…

Matty wasn't sure what to do next. He paced the living room for a while, his steps quick and restless, before collapsing onto the couch. The same spot where you had sat for hours, fighting tears and the crushing weight of disappointment. He stared at the scattered crumbs and empty cupcake wrappers left behind, his chest tightening as he imagined you curled up there, waiting for him, hoping for something he failed to give.

The knock at the door broke through his spiraling thoughts.

He rose sluggishly, his movements heavy with dread. It was late—too late for a neighbor or a delivery. As he opened the door, the cold air rushed in, carrying with it the sight of George standing on the porch. His coat was large, the collar flipped up to shield him from the wind, and his hands were stuffed deep into his pockets.

“Hey,” George greeted, his voice low and careful, though his sharp eyes betrayed his concern.

Matty blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

George’s expression hardened. “Bubs called. She didn’t tell you?”

Before Matty could answer, he heard the hurried sound of footsteps behind him. You swept past him without so much as a glance, your shoulders stiff, your chin lifted in quiet defiance.

“Hi, George,” you murmured, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Your voice was clipped, your movements rushed, as if staying in the house a moment longer would suffocate you. “I’ll be in the car.”

Matty turned to watch as you walked away, your silhouette disappearing into the darkness. The slam of the car door reverberated through the silence.

“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

George stepped inside, his boots thudding against the wooden floor. He shrugged off his coat but didn’t bother to hang it, instead crossing his arms and pinning Matty with a pointed look. “What happened, mate? She wouldn’t tell me anything, just that I needed to pick her up.”

Matty hesitated, his eyes darting toward the empty couch before finally meeting George’s gaze. “I said something…I said something really bad.”

George’s brows shot up. “Go on.”

Matty’s voice cracked as he admitted, “I forgot her birthday.”

“I’m sorry—what?” George’s tone was sharp, his disbelief cutting through the room like a knife.

Matty winced. “I left this morning and went to the studio with Adam. My mind was on recording, and I—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” George interrupted, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s not an excuse to forget your only child’s thirteenth birthday.”

“I know!” Matty snapped, his frustration with himself boiling over. “I know, okay? I screwed up. But I talked to her, and I tried to—”

“Oh, this should be good,” George interjected with a bitter laugh. “Let me guess. You made it worse.”

Matty let out a defeated sigh. “She was crying. I told her I could fix it, that I’d do anything to make it right, and she told me I couldn’t even remember her birthday. And that’s when…”

George raised a brow, his patience clearly thinning. “When what?”

Matty swallowed hard, his throat dry. “That’s when I said, ‘Well, I wouldn’t have to remember if you weren’t here.’”

The silence that followed was deafening. George stared at him, his jaw tightening, his eyes blazing with anger and disbelief. “You are a fucking idiot,” he said finally, his voice calm but dripping with contempt. “You know that?”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” George shot back. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t have let her walk out of here feeling like that.”

Matty’s shoulders sagged. “What do I do?”

“You want a step-by-step guide on how to not be a shitty dad?” George’s sarcasm was biting, but when Matty didn’t respond, he softened, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Here’s what’s going to happen. She’s coming home with me. She’s going to cry into my arms, like she always does when I’m cleaning up after your screw-ups. Meanwhile, you’re going to sit here, think long and hard about what you said, and figure out how to make this right.”

Matty nodded weakly. “Okay.”

George stepped back toward the door but paused, turning to face Matty one last time. “And Matty? If you ever, ever make her feel like that again, I won’t just clean up your mess—I’ll make damn sure you know what it feels like to be left behind.”

……..

The car ride to George’s house was quiet, the only sounds coming from the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle you tried to suppress. George didn’t push you to talk. He knew better than to force words out of you when you were like this. Instead, he kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the gear shift, his presence steady and grounding.

When you arrived, George parked in the driveway and turned off the car, glancing over at you. “You hungry?” he asked softly, his voice breaking the silence.

You shook your head, staring out the window. The weight of the day pressed against your chest, and food was the last thing on your mind.

“Okay,” he said, not pushing the issue. “Come on, then.”

Inside, the warmth of the house enveloped you, a stark contrast to the cold night outside. George flicked on a lamp in the living room, casting a soft glow across the room filled with mismatched furniture and framed photos. It felt safe here, like a refuge from everything waiting outside.

You dropped onto the couch, pulling your knees to your chest. George disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and returned with two mugs of hot chocolate. He set one on the coffee table in front of you and settled into the armchair across from you, cradling his own mug between his hands.

“Want to tell me what happened?” he asked, his tone gentle but firm.

You hesitated, biting your lip as your gaze dropped to the mug in front of you. The steam rose in lazy swirls, and you watched it as though it held the answers you couldn’t find.

“It’s not just the birthday thing,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

George nodded, not interrupting.

“It’s everything,” you continued, your words spilling out faster now. “It’s like… I don’t even know if he really wants me here. Half the time, he’s so busy with his own life, and I feel like I’m just in the way. Like I’m some obligation he didn’t ask for.”

George set his mug down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Listen to me, kid,” he said, his voice steady. “Matty is a lot of things—most of them a pain in the ass—but he loves you. He’s just… not great at showing it sometimes.”

You scoffed, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “He told me he wouldn’t have to remember my birthday if I wasn’t here.”

George winced, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, that was a shitty thing to say. No excuses for that.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with hurt. “Do you think he means it?”

“No,” George said without hesitation. “I know he doesn’t. Matty’s an idiot, but he’s not heartless. He’s just scared, and when he’s scared, he says things he doesn’t mean. He’s trying, in his own messy way, but that doesn’t mean you have to forgive him right now.”

You nodded slowly, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak.

George moved to sit beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re allowed to be mad, Y/n. You’re allowed to feel hurt. But you’re not allowed to think, even for one second, that you don’t belong here, because you do. You belong with him, and he knows it, even if he’s too dumb to show it the right way.”

You leaned into him, the warmth of his embrace and the steadiness of his presence easing some of the tension in your chest. “Thanks, George,” you murmured.

“Anytime, kiddo.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

 ………

The next morning arrived sooner than you had wanted it to. You were curled up on George’s couch, a blanket draped over your legs and a mug of lukewarm hot chocolate in your hands. The sitcom on the TV had long since faded into background noise, your focus lost somewhere between the fraying edges of the blanket and the storm of emotions churning in your chest.

George walked into the room, pausing just inside the doorway. His expression was cautious, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. You could tell something was up before he even opened his mouth.

“Your father is here,” he said, his voice soft but laced with something that sounded like reluctant hope.

You didn’t look up. “Is he now?”

George shifted his weight, pulling one hand free to scratch the back of his neck. “He wants to talk to you.”

“That’s a first.”

He sighed, moving to sit on the arm of the couch. “Maybe it’ll be good for—”

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop fixing his mistakes.” Your voice was sharper now, laced with frustration and an undercurrent of exhaustion. “This is what always happens. Dad makes a mistake, I end up crying, and you or one of the guys come in and fix his problem for him.”

“It’s not a problem. You are not a problem.” George’s voice was steady but firm, like he was trying to will you into believing it.

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you were thinking,” he countered. “Am I wrong?”

You looked away, the lump in your throat making it impossible to respond.

“Whatever,” you muttered eventually, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

“Fine,” George said with a sigh, standing. “I’m sending him in.”

“Georgeeee,” you whined, your voice cracking slightly. But he was already walking away, his footsteps retreating down the hall.

A few moments later, your father appeared in the doorway, looking uncertain and uncharacteristically nervous. His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled, and his hands were stuffed into his jacket pockets like he didn’t trust himself to let them hang freely.

“Hi, baby girl,” he said softly, his voice tentative. “I came to talk.”

You didn’t look at him. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Can you listen at least?” he asked, stepping into the room.

“Whatever,” you replied, your tone flat and dismissive.

Matty hesitated for a beat before sitting down on the edge of the coffee table, facing you. His knees brushed against the edge of the couch, but you didn’t pull away.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he began, his voice thick with regret.

“Then why did you say it?” You finally looked at him, your eyes sharp and accusing.

“I was…angry,” he admitted, his shoulders sagging. “I was trying to defend myself, and I made things worse. Like I always do.”

“Hm.”

Matty ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath. “I made you a cake…” he said after a moment, a faint, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “George told me to do it. To repent for my sins.”

You rolled your eyes, the corner of your mouth twitching in the ghost of a smile. “So he’s fixing your problems for you again?”

“It’s not a problem—you’re not a problem—” he said quickly, his voice rising slightly in desperation.

“You sure made it sound like I was last night,” you shot back, your voice trembling with hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“You’re just sorry for admitting it,” you said, your gaze boring into his.

“Admitting what?”

“That I was a mistake. That you didn’t want me.”

Matty’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vehemently. “You are not a mistake, my love,” he said, his voice breaking. “You are my whole world.”

“Then how could you forget my birthday?”

His face crumpled, and he looked down at his hands. “I don’t want to give an excuse,” he said after a long pause. “One, because I don’t think you’ll believe me, and two, because it’s not good enough. I can, however, beg for forgiveness for the rest of my life, and tell you how sorry I am.”

You stared at him, your chest tight and your throat burning with unshed tears. He looked so small, sitting there with his head bowed and his shoulders hunched.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s okay,” Matty said, looking up at you. His eyes were red-rimmed, his expression raw and vulnerable. “Take all the time you need. Just… let me try to be better. Let me prove to you that I can be better.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and filled with things neither of you knew how to say. Finally, you nodded, a small, hesitant movement that felt like a crack in the wall you’d built around yourself.

Matty’s shoulders sagged with relief, and he managed a small, tentative smile. “Thank you, baby girl,” he said softly.

You didn’t respond, but when he reached out to gently squeeze your hand, you didn’t pull away.

“I got you something.” He whispered. He reached into the large jacket pocket, pulling out a small box, unmistakingly a jewelry box.

You perked up a little, adjusting yourself to sit up. He spoke softly, “I was gonna wait till Christmas for you to get this but, seems like a good time now.”

You let out a quiet scoff, “You planned Christmas already presents but not a birthday one?” He just jokingly hung his head in defeat which made you smile.

Taking the box, you slowly took the lid off, showcasing a silver necklace. It had your initial hanging from the chain, right next to a little charm with an ‘M’ on it, matching the one with your letter. Right above each of those was two small gems which you recognized as your respective birthstones.

You nodded and smiled softly, looking up to meet his gaze. “Thank you.”

He pulled you into a side hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Happy Birthday, love.”

[kate-the1975]

Every day I wake up and wish I came up with the Teenagedream!Matty because the amount of ideas I have for him has me awake at night 😭😭😭😭

[kate-the1975]

This is the best thing that’s ever been put in my inbox

(Btw im the new piss kink anon SURPRISE @troughmybones)

[kate-the1975]

GUYS CATERPILLAREYES DEACTIVATED 😭😭😭

IF THEY HAVE A NEW ACCOUNT SOMEONE PLS TELL ME I LOVED THEM SO BAD THEY WERE MY LEVEL OF DIRTY FR 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[kate-the1975]

Can your asses send in some smutty George asks I’m begging you guys 😭😭

My brain is too full of political shit, I need to guys to do your worst in my asks 😭😭

[kate-the1975]

I Love You, Flora... // Dad!Matty x Reader

A/N: This is long, I know, but the voting poll said longer so that's what you beauties are getting I'm sorry 💞

W/C: 2,885 words

C/W: Mentions of labour and child birth, waters breaking....basically anything that has to do with giving birth xoxo

Your home was settling into a deep, peaceful sleep. The only sounds being Matty's light snores and the wind blowing through the vents, which was normal for a late night in November. You lay in bed, your swollen belly pressing into the soft sheets, the rhythmic sound of Matty's steady breathing beside you calming your own. You'd been overdue for a week now, and though you had tried to convince yourself that this baby would arrive on its own time, the ache in your back and the persistent discomfort in your lower abdomen told you that you wouldn't be waiting much longer.

You shifted under the covers carefully, trying not to disturb Matty. He was sound asleep, his face relaxed, the lines of fatigue from working early and late on the bands new album, softened by the comfort of home. You admired him for a moment, the warmth that always radiated from him even in his sleep, before you felt another twinge of discomfort deep in your belly. You winced slightly, rubbing the spot with your hand.

Another ache. It had been happening on and off for days now—false alarms, which you were familiar with since you had the same experience with Rosie, but this time it felt longer.

Like your body gearing up for something that never came.

Tonight did feel different though. The ache lingered longer than usual, and when you shifted again, the pressure in your lower back was unmistakable.

Carefully, you slid out of bed, careful not to wake Matty. The room was cool, the dark shadows of the night wrapping the house in a quiet blanket. The house was silent except for the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath your feet. You paused for a moment, letting the ache pass before gently making your way toward the landing.

You didn't want to wake Matty just yet. Not until you were sure.

The landing was dimly lit by the soft glow of a nightlight near Rosie's door. You could hear the steady sound of her breathing on the other side, soft and rhythmic. The last thing you wanted was for her to wake up in the middle of the night to all this.

Taking a deep breath, you started walking slowly up and down the narrow hallway, letting the motion help ease the tightening in your abdomen. Each step was measured and slow, your hand resting lightly on the railing for support. The ache in your back was starting to intensify, and your breath caught as another contraction rolled through your body. You paused, letting it pass. It wasn't too bad yet.

But it wasn't going away.

You took a few more steps, trying to walk through it, but then another contraction hit—a bit sharper this time. The pressure was building in your pelvis, making it harder to ignore. You froze against the wall, breathing deeply, trying to keep calm.

And then, just as you thought you could push through it, you felt it—a warm rush of fluid. Your waters had broken.

You gasped in surprise, the reality of it hitting you all at once. This was happening. Now. The baby was on its way, and there was no turning back.

Your heart raced as you steadied yourself against the wall. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. Even though you were ready you still felt completely unprepared at the same time. But as the fluid continued to trickle down your legs, you knew it was time. It was happening.

"Matty..." you whispered, voice strained, but still careful not to let it rise too loud. Your hand clutched your belly, and you looked down at the wet spot on the floor.

No response.

You called again, slightly louder this time, but still trying to keep it soft. "Matty... wake up..."

There was a groan from the bed, followed by the rustling of sheets. Matty's head popped up from beneath the covers, his bleary eyes squinting at you in the low light. "Mmm? Babe?" He blinked a few times, his brain slowly catching up to reality.

When his eyes finally focused, they widened as he took in your stance—your hand practically white-knuckling the door frame, your face pale from the pain, and the unmistakable wetness between your legs.

"Wait... wait, is your—are your waters broken?" His voice was thick with sleep, but his concern was immediate, rushing to the forefront.

You nodded, still trying to steady yourself through another contraction. "Yeah... I think so."

Matty was fully awake now, his expression shifting from confusion to panic in a matter of seconds. "Okay, okay, right. Are you... are you okay? Is it—oh God, are the contractions...?"

You nodded again, breathing through the pressure. "They're coming, but they're still pretty far apart. It's happening."

Matty blinked rapidly as he processed what you were saying, his hand coming to your back to rub gentle circles. "Alright, you've done this before. You can do it again. It's okay."

He tried to reach for his phone on the bedside table, but his hands were shaking, fumbling in the dark. You smiled faintly at the sight of him, trying to calm him down with a gentle touch on his arm.

"It's fine, Matty. Just... just time the contractions and ring the midwife."

He nodded quickly, the urgency finally sinking in. "Right. Okay. Contractions, then midwife, yeah."

You took a slow, deep breath as another one hit, this time more intense. Matty held up his phone, his fingers tapping quickly as he set the timer. "Let's get this right, yeah? Gotta time them. You're doing great. Just breathe. Focus on me, yeah?"

You closed your eyes for a moment, listening to his voice. His reassurance, even in his panic, helped keep you grounded. You nodded through the next few contractions, trying to keep yourself calm.

"Okay, okay, the first one was, uh, a minute... now we wait... ten minutes until the next, babe?"

You nodded, still breathing through it, trying to ignore the intensity. "Something like that... I don't fucking know."

Matty was pacing now, his mind clearly spinning as he muttered to himself, "Alright, alright, don't panic, don't panic. Breathe. It's fine. We're good."

You smiled a little, watching him flit around like an anxious bird, but the tenderness in his movements gave you comfort. He came back to your side after he rang the midwife, holding a warm hand against your lower back. "I've got you, love. You'll be alright."

The next few minutes felt like hours. Matty's calm presence was grounding you, even though his mind was clearly racing. You could see him glancing toward Rosie's room every so often, as if checking if she was still asleep, not wanting to disturb her yet.

"I think it's time to go." he urged softly, his voice now much more steady. "But try and get as much rest as you can in the car, I don't want you to worry about the bags and everything else, I've got them."

You shook your head, though. "I don't think I can sleep through this. So you'll just have to deal with my screaming instead."

The next contraction came quickly, a sharp pain that sent you gripping his arm for support. Matty rubbed your back gently, whispering little words of encouragement between each one. "I'm here. You're safe. You're doing amazing."

Another few minutes passed without any realisation, and eventually, the contractions grew closer together, more intense. Your breath quickened, and Matty's eyes were wide with the realisation that neither of you have moved from you now designated spot right outside your bedroom door, and the two of you needed to get a move on quick and fast.

"Okay, we really need to get going this time, pet." he said, his voice clipped with urgency but still soft. "Don't think we can wait around much longer I'm afraid."

You nodded, but then a small voice interrupted from down the hallway.

"Mummy? Daddy?" Rosie's sleepy voice drifted from her bedroom. "What's going on?"

Matty froze, his eyes locking with yours. He was torn between rushing to get you to the car and not waking up their four-year-old who was now undoubtedly wondering why the whole house was in a state of mild panic.

"I'll talk to her. You just stay here for two seconds, love" Matty said, leaning over to kiss your bare shoulder. "I'll tell her everything's okay."

He hurried off down the hall, rushing Rosie gently back into her room, and you were left standing there, your body in the thick of labour. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, knowing that the wait for your second child was almost over, and that soon you'd be holding this tiny little person in your arms.

Matty came back a few moments later, looking slightly panicked but trying to hide it behind a gentle smile. "Rosie's good, just a little confused. Told her you were going to the hospital to get the baby. Oh! And George and Charli were on speed dial anyways, as you know, so I dropped them the all systems go text and they were already in the car. Should be here once I get you in the car and grab the bags."

You nodded, wincing slightly at another contraction. "That's great and all but let's get a move on before I give birth to this baby on the landing."

Together, you made your way downstairs, Matty's hand never leaving your back, guiding you, steadying you. The car was waiting in the driveway, the headlights cutting through the darkness as Matty opened the door for you. As you climbed in, the headlights of another car pulled up the driveway, and much to your relief it was George and Charli, meaning you and Matty could just head straight off to the hospital now. The second baby was on its way, and despite the chaos, you knew everything would be okay. ------------------------------------------------------------

The sterile smell of the hospital room clung to the air, mixing with the sharp scent of antiseptic, making both you and Matty feel slightly nauseous. Outside, the world was moving on like any other day, but here, in this room, everything felt suspended—timeless, almost.

Matty stood beside the bed, his hand tight around yours, fingers pressing against your palm with a mix of anxiety and gentle encouragement. His face was pale, eyes wide, constantly flicking from her face to the monitor to the nurses bustling around the room. His usual composure, the calm that usually came with his presence naturally, was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was here, completely present, completely unsure, completely human.

"I can't believe this is happening again," he said, voice tight. "I mean, it feels like just yesterday—" His sentence faltered as you gripped his hand tighter with a loud grunt, pulling yourself through the next contraction. His eyes widened, watching you with concern.

Matty's voice cut through the aftermath of another round of pushing, warm and steady. "You're doing amazing, love. Just breathe, okay? I'm right here. You're incredible."

His words should have been comforting, but right now, they felt like nails on a chalkboard, and so did his presence. You clenched your teeth, trying to focus on anything other than the sharp, relentless pressure. You squeezed Matty's hand harder, feeling his grip tighten around yours in return.

"You're almost there," Matty added, his voice soft but encouraging. "You're so strong. Just one more push, I promise."

Your mind spun. How the fuck would he know it was only one more push? This felt like it was never going to end. You were exhausted, sweaty, and every inch of your body felt like it was being pulled apart. You wanted to scream at him, tell him he had no idea how it felt, but instead, you bit back the frustration.

Another contraction hit, and your breath caught in your throat. You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as your body tensed against the oncoming wave of pain.

Matty rubbed your back, soothingly murmuring, "I know it's hard, but you've got this, love. You're amazing. You're doing so well."

Your body shuddered, the pain so overwhelming that it pushed everything else out of your mind. You tried to focus on his words—tried—but now you were just getting pissed off by them. "I'm not amazing," you snapped, voice breaking as another contraction set in. "I'm fucking tired, Matty, so fuck off."

Your words seemed sharper than you had intended, but you couldn't help it. The overstimulation, the pain, the exhaustion—it was all too much. You were too close to the edge to care about being gentle.

There was a brief moment of silence, and Matty paused, his hand still resting on your back. You could see the flicker of hurt in his eyes before he quickly masked it, but that didn't stop your heart from sinking. He'd always been there for you, always supported you, and now, in this moment of weakness, you'd snapped.

But Matty knew better than to let it effect him too much. You were in pain, and you didn't say anything hurtful towards him, you had just snapped, and if he was in that position, he thought to himself, that he probably would've exploded, never mind snapped at someone.

"I'm sorry," you muttered under your breath, voice cracking. "I didn't mean that."

Matty squeezed your hand. "You don't have to apologize," he said gently. "I'm just trying to help. I know you're in pain. I'm right here."

Your eyes welled with tears, frustration melting into something deeper, a mix of guilt and exhaustion. "I don't want to keep hearing how amazing I am," you admitted, a little breathless. "I just want it to be over."

Matty nodded, understanding the unspoken weight behind your words. "I get it," he said quietly. "You're incredible for doing this. I know it's hard, so tell me to fuck off and scream in my face all you want if that's what makes you get through this a bit easier."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart, trying to center yourself. It felt like everything was spinning out of control, but Matty's words grounded you in the moment. You squeezed his hand again, body trembling with the force of another contraction.

The midwife spoke up then, her voice clear and reassuring. "Alright, we're almost there. Just one more push, darling. You're doing beautifully."

With one final surge of energy, you gave everything you had left, and after what felt like an eternity, the pressure finally released. You collapsed back onto the bed, your body weak and spent, while the sound of the baby's first cries filled the room.

A soft gasp left your lips as the midwife gently announced, "It's a girl."

You blinked, heart skipping a beat. A girl. Another daughter.

You turned your head to look at Matty, seeing the same emotion written on his face—surprise, wonder, a deep, quiet joy. His eyes were a little misty, his lips parted in disbelief, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand resting against your cheek.

"Two girls," he whispered softly, his voice thick with emotion. "We have two little girls."

Your heart swelled in your chest as the reality of the moment washed over you.

You smiled weakly, the exhaustion heavy in your limbs, but the love you felt for this tiny new life—this little girl who had just arrived—was overwhelming.

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

The hours passed slowly in the dimly lit hospital room. The baby, still nestled against Matty's chest, slept peacefully, her tiny body rising and falling with each gentle breath.

The world outside the room continued on, but in this small, quiet space, it was just the three of you.

You layed back against the pillows, the exhaustion of labor slowly fading into a soft, contented peace. You watched Matty as he looked down at the baby, his face a mixture of awe and tenderness, as though he couldn't quite believe she was really here.

"Flora," You said softly, the name slipping from your lips as you watched him with a faint smile. "I've been thinking about it... I think she looks like a Flora."

Matty's gaze shifted from the baby to you, his eyes lighting up. "Flora," he repeated, as if testing the name. "Yeah. I like it. It feels... right."

You smiled, face aching from how much smiling you'd done in the last few hours your new baby girl had been here.

Flora. It was simple but beautiful, elegant, like a quiet bloom in the spring. You felt the weight of the name settle into the quiet space between you both, a name that belonged to their daughter. "I love it," you murmured. "Flora Healy."

Matty grinned, a slow, fond smile spreading across his face as he adjusted the baby on his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Flora's head, his voice barely a whisper. "Flora... Yeah. I think she's perfect."

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of joy. It wasn't just the name; it was everything—the shared decision, the quiet beauty of the moment, the knowledge that you both had built this family together, and now, this little girl, Flora, was all yours.

Matty glanced up at you, his eyes warm. "I love you," he said simply, his voice thick with emotion.

Your heart began to beat faster, the simple words carrying more weight than you could express. "I love you too, so fucking much." You whispered back with just as much emotion.

Together, you sat there in the soft glow of the room. Flora snuggled against Matty's chest, and everything in the world seemed right.

Flora Healy. Your daughter. Perfect.

[kate-the1975]

I have a long oneshot written for Matty, but I want everyone to tell me if they like short ones or longer ones or multiple parts. I personally love longer for more detail, but I just don’t want people to get bored 😭😭

[kate-the1975]

My heart aches for my American followers. I can’t imagine the fear you guys feel right now.

My heart goes out to you all, and I hope you all can get through this dark time together ❤️❤️❤️

[kate-the1975]

Trick or Treat! // Dad!Matty x Reader

A/N: You guys seemed to still want this even though I’m late to the party, so here you go! I also couldn’t find a picture to perfectly suit Mattys costume so the classic skeleton costume it is 😪

W/C: 1,997 words

C/W: None xx

Pumpkins glowed warmly on the porch of your home, and you could hear the colourful leaves crunching underfoot outside as excited kids went from door to door trick or treating.

Inside your home, the soft glow of fairy lights that Matty insisted on putting up set a whimsical scene to the normally bland home, and it brought so much comfort to you.

"Look, Mummy! Look at me! I'm Tutter!" Rosie announced excitedly when she found you drinking a cup of tea at the kitchen island. She twirled in her fluffy blue costume, her eyes wide with excitement. 

The big ears and tail bounced as she moved, and she grinned from ear to ear. Clearly very proud and confident within her costume choice.

You smiled, though a twinge of discomfort reminded you of your fast approaching due date as your tried to bend down to meet your daughter at eye level.

"Oh, my beautiful baby girl! You look so cute!" You couldn't help but aggressively kiss her cheek, causing Rosie to giggle adorably at your affection. "Are you ready for your first real Halloween, baby?" 

Rosie nodded enthusiastically, her smile infectious, identical to her fathers. You felt a rush of love just from looking at her, but you worried if you would be able to keep up with her energy all night due to the situation you're in.

Just then, Matty walked in, his face lighting up at the sight of his daughter. He was dressed a Bear from Bear and the Big Blue House, matching his Rosie who was dressed as her favourite character from the show she was so overly obsessed with. 

You tried not to bust out laughing at the sight of him, wearing a brown fuzzy onesie and fuzzy ears, but you knew how much this meant to him. It being his last Halloween with his first baby girl, he wanted to give Rosie 110%.

"Oh my god! RoRo! You're the best Tutter I've ever seen!" He exclaimed, kneeling down to her level.

"Daddy, look at my tail!" Rosie twirled again, giggling continuously.

"The tail is incredible! Now, I think it's time to go out and show it off to everyone, how about that, hm?" Matty grinned, his excitement matching hers. 

Matty turned to you, instantly noticing how you didn't seem as excited for Trick or Treating as you have been the other years, and you could see the concern flickering in his eyes. "Are you sure you're feeling okay to join us?" 

You hesitated for a moment, glancing down at your round belly. "I want to be there, for Rosie, but... I don't want to slow you both down."

Matty smiled gently, wrapping an arm around you. "I've got this one, love. You can keep the sweet stash safe for us later on."

"Matty Healy, you're an absolute star!" you said, utterly relieved. "Just make sure she doesn't eat all the sweets at once, because I don't think either of us are in the mood to have a sick Tutter on our hands tonight." You joked, but both you and Matty knew you were being serious.

"Aye aye Captain!" Matty joked back, leaning in to place a soft and warm kiss on your lips.

You watched as Matty led Rosie out the door, her little bucket clutched tightly in her little hand. You couldn't help but get emotional as you watched the two of them walk down the short driveway, the porch light illuminating their excited faces, both matching in their cosy costumes, walking safely hand in hand.

As the evening wore on, you settled into the couch with a warm blanket, listening out for any Trick or Treaters that stopped by. You imagined Matty and Rosie, holding hands as the navigate their way around the creatively decorated houses, Matty telling stories as Bear to keep your little one entertained.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally heard a pair of keys jingling at the door, the door swinging open to be faced with, to your surprise, a very sleepy Rosie in Matty's arms. Her eyes drooping but trying with all her energy she had left to keep them open just to see you.

"Mummy, I got so many sweets." She yawned tiredly when she saw you approaching them in the hall. Her bucket was nearly overflowing, and you were quick to take it out of her hands since it looked like she was about to drop it any second due to how drained she was.

Matty chuckled as he tried to sleep Rosie's shoes off while keeping her close to his body. This exact move was something that both of you had perfected over time. "And, I snagged a few from the neighbours. They loved giving out extra to Bear and Tutter. Clearly I still make the ladies swoon." Matty smirked, knowing that even though he was walking a fine line with that comment, you'd just roll your eyes and try to hold back a smile.

Which is exactly what you ended up doing.

"Alright, little one, let's get you settled on the couch for a while, hm? Tonight is a special occasion after all." Matty pressed a kiss to her cheek as she let out the sweetest yawn you'd ever heard. Even though she was now four, she still yawned like she did when she was a tiny baby.

After Matty placed Rosie down gently on the couch, wrapping her up in the blanket you'd only just had wrapped around you, you and Matty sorted through her sweet stash, the two of you giving each other the eyes when you saw something that you could maybe steal once she went up to bed.

Rosie tried her best recounter every detail from her little adventure, but she'd stop midsentence to fall asleep for a minute, and then continue like nothing happened. You looked over at Matty, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't admiring him like your life depended on it.

The way his eyes glistened and the way lips held a soft and loving smile as he patiently waited for Rosie to finish her storytelling in between minute long power naps. He was made to be a dad to your daughter, no doubt about it. You don't think you've ever seen someone love someone so small with as much strength as he does. 

Especially not in a Bear in the Big Blue House costume, that's for sure.

Suddenly, after another moment of silence, Rosie found the last bit of energy she had to perk up and ask Matty a question.

"Can we do this every year, Daddy?" Rosie quizzed him, her eyes wide and shining with so much hope.

"Absolutely, Flower! As long as we're together, Halloween will always be as fun as this one." Matty replied, his voice warm and assuring.

"Even with the baby?" She yawned, the energy drifting away from her once more.

Matty stopped for a moment, his heart clearly hurting at her question and the thought of it not being just Rosie anymore eating him up a little bit.

"I promise, sweetheart. I wouldn't let you down like that."

——————————————————————————

After the excitement of Halloween, you and Matty quietly managed to get Rosie to bed. With each of you giving her a kiss to the forehead and making sure she's tucked in properly, you tiptoed out of her room, closing the door softly behind you.

The house felt so peaceful, the only sound being Matty opening a bottle of beer for himself and the rustling of sweet wrappers. He stretched his arms above his head as he plopped down onto the couch, letting out a satisfied sigh. "That was so much fun." he said, a smile still lingering on his face. "I can't believe how much Rosie loved it."

You nodded, a warmth spreading in your chest as Matty's left hand automatically rested on you large baby bump. "She's growing up so fast. I can't comprehend how this was her first proper Halloween."

Matty's smile faded slightly at your words, the thought of your daughter being five years old the next time Halloween roles around making him feel weird, and slightly old.

You settled into his side while his hand traced soothing circles over his bump, his other hand trying to wrap a blanket around both of your shoulders. As he handed you a handful of sweets that he managed to snag from the neighbours, you both settled on a horror movie to watch, the screen flickering to life with eerie music.

A few moments passed in silence and comforting touches, but you sensed something was weighing on Matty's mind. Finally, he looked down at you, his expression serious. "Can I talk to you about something, love?"

"Of course!" you said, concerned. "What's on that mind of yours, hm?"

Matty hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly. "I've been thinking about what Rosie said earlier. About next Halloween, you know? With the new baby coming and everything. I just worry I won't be able to give Rosie the same magical experience she so badly wants. What if I let her down?"

You felt you heart ache for him, knowing how much he wanted to be the perfect dad. You reached out, cupping his face in your hand. "Matty, you've already given her the most amazing memories. This Halloween was so special for her because of you. Remember her little face when she first saw you dressed as Bear? That's what it's all about, darling."

He smiled softly at the memory, but he still seemed troubled. "But next year... We'll both be busy with the baby, and I don't want Rosie to feel like we're forgetting about her."

"Baby, listen." you said, letting go of his face to squeeze his hand. "There's a lot of love to go around in this little family of ours. Us having another baby doesn't mean we'll have less love to give Rosie. It means more love, more fun, and even more new amazing memories together."

Matty nodded slowly, his eyes softening and shoulders easing. "I just want to make sure she feels special, too. I don't want her to think she's not our number one anymore."

"Matty, she'll always be our number one. It's just now we'll have another number one added to that." You assured him, resting your head on his shoulder once again. "We'll always find ways to include both of our babies. Just imagine the joy of celebrating Halloween as a family of four. I promise you, she's going to love every second of being a big sister, especially since she's still so young."

As the movie played on, you could feel the tension physically leave him. "You're right." he said, a smile creeping back onto his face. "We've got this whole parents of two thing in the bag."

"Oh, absolutely! Besides," You teased, "you'll have double the reasons to dress up next year. Tutter and Bear, round two! Maybe we can dress Baba up as Ojo!"

Matty laughed, the sound so incredibly infectious. "I can already see it. Two little ones tugging at my ears, demanding another fun sized Twix. It'll be chaotic, but so fucking worth it."

You snuggled closer, feeling the warmth of his body beside you. "And just think of all the memories we'll make. How could that not bring a smile to your face."

With the flickering light of the movie casting shadows around the room, you both felt a sense of calm. You had each other, you had Rosie, and soon, you would welcome another little one into your family.

As you both finished the last of the sweets, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, the love you shared would always shine through, creating a lifetime of magical moments together.

[kate-the1975]

I got an ask and I’m so conflicted because I could write so much with the topic but I fear I’m not well educated enough on the topic and what if it’s triggering and I don’t want to get cancelled HELP PLS!!!!!

[kate-the1975]

I have a dad!Matty trick or treat oneshot that I never got to post because I was on holidays for Halloween. Is it too late to post it now or would people still want it? 😭😭

[kate-the1975]

Anything is a dildo if you put your mind to it 🫶

[kate-the1975]

This is actually so accurate, god bless 🫶🫶

Great

[kate-the1975]

In Paris and feeling very fertile.

Where tf is Matty at?

[kate-the1975]

NEW THEME YIPPEEEEEEEE