#1975 fic

[thisisnotmeta]

Million Dollar Man

Chapter 1

-

Sent.

There it was—my very first music contract signed.

My hands swiped back and forth between the 'sent' and 'draft' inboxes, confirming the reality of the moment. The air shuddered with anticipation as I blankly stared at my inbox, silently praying for a reply in the mere 1.4 seconds since I hit 'send.'

Fresh out of university last year, I found myself grappling with the realisation that I needed to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Studying history had its limits—teaching or diving into more debt for a specialised master's degree were the conventional routes. However, nestled in the corners of my life was my little secret—I'd always been a songwriter. It wasn't something anyone really knew about until 3 months ago. After a drunken night in with my mum, I mustered the courage to share one of my demos with her. Her insistence that it was the greatest piece of music she'd ever heard, albeit the expected maternal praise, boosted my confidence. The morning after, armed with nothing more than my shitty Amazon mic and GarageBand, I sent three of my best demos to four different music labels across the country.

In the agonising months of waiting for a reply from any label, hope slipped through my fingers with each passing day. Just when despair threatened to engulf me, a glimmer of possibility emerged two weeks ago. Emails from two labels requesting in-person meetings to discuss my music further landed in my inbox, a lifeline amid the silence. Navigating a whirlwind 24-hour trip to London, I juggled the meetings, fueled by a mix of nerves and excitement. Having returned to my parents' home post-university, my part-time receptionist job became the financial anchor for one day moving out and starting my own new little life.

The journey from the North to London felt long, god it was so long, yet the promise of these potential signings kept me going. The meetings with both labels exceeded expectations, but Dirty Hit held a specific pull on me. They not only understood my musical aspirations but, to my disbelief, I met specifically with the label's founder, Jamie Oborne. A stark contrast to the very very lovely but somewhat underwhelming talent scout at the other label, Dirty Hit resonated with me on every level—the sound, the artists, the team. It felt like a perfect fit, a musical home where my compositions seamlessly blended with their illustrious discography.

The dream was a reality when Jamie extended the signing offer. Without hesitation, I accepted. The train ride back, though again, immensely long, was some of the best fun I’ve ever had. Amidst the clatter of the tracks, I scribbled down fragments for future songs, mapped out my imaginary world tour, envisioned albums, and even planned my Met Gala outfit. The euphoria of realising a lifelong dream had just basically become a reality in a matter of months hadn’t given me any time to process anything. But I was absolutely ready to potentially start something absolutely amazing. And here I was sitting in front of my MacBook, staring blankly at my Gmail.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind, a lot of online meetings, emailing and future discussing. Jamie liked my demos and wanted to get them produced and mixed professionally as well as teach me how to do it myself. I travelled back to London a few times in the weeks prior to practice and test with different producers the team thought I’d mix well with. My most successful session was my most recent, as Dirty Hit expensed a hotel for me for two nights in London to focus on my time in the studio. Ben Gleason, one of Dirty Hit’s leading producers, was someone who truly understood my music and shaped it in a way that I could genuinely hear one of my demos appearing on the radio, it was crazy. His vision and expertise were admirable to anyone. My demo, over the past 15 hours we worked on it, had turned into a real, titled potential single – ‘Million Dollar Man’.

Before I was sent to travel back home, we sent it off to the team to listen to and give feedback. It was a success, thank god. Waiting for the train to come in at Kings Cross, the sound of my ringtone filled my headphones. As I looked at my phone, I wasn’t fazed by the ‘unknown’ number and filled my boredom by answering it anyway.

‘Hello?’ I said in a slow voice, totally expecting some type of phone provider or accident scam, which usually came with answering unknown numbers.

“Hi, is this Camille?” A chirpy, womanly voice replied back to me.

“It is, yeah,” I replied nonchalantly. “Who is this, sorry?”

“Perfect! It’s Holly from Dirty Hit,” She replied. My breathing hitched, okay this phone call was important then and not just fun. This must be Jamie’s assistant, who I met a couple times through our Zoom meetings. “Thought I’d give you a little ring, so you can get my number saved and so I can update you on some things! We’ve just had a meeting today about what we want to do with you in the next few weeks and we went through everything you talked about, and we were thinking about potentially focusing you more on studio time right now, and we are wanting you to build on the songs you are in the process of and create one really really strong song that we can put out as your debut. What are your thoughts on that?”

“I think that’s a great idea! Ben and I were brainstorming a lot of songs that had great potential, so it would be cool to work with him again,” I practically begged through the phone. Ben is most definitely my favourite producer in the three I’d worked with in the short time. As much as I think Million Dollar Man is perfect, there are so many that might even end up better.

“Yeah, Ben is one of the best, especially for your sound,” she agrees, pausing for a second as she clicks what sounds like a pen and takes time to write something down. “We were thinking of sending you and a couple of our producers on a work getaway and maybe taking the time that you are there to write some songs and find your own dynamic with them, what do you think?”

“Of course, I’d love to!” I exclaim through the phone. Walking through the station to get to my soon departing train back home. Amazing, more studio work, more song writing - I have been dreaming of getting phone calls like this for years.

I have so many ideas in my head and written in my notebook just waiting to be explored with real professionals like Ben. I just prayed silently in my head that my quick praise of him would lead them sending him on the getaway along with whoever else they wanted to send with me - probably Joel or Vanna, the other two producers I had worked with in the time I’d been here. Joel’s sound was old school and he loved that classic drum in the background. Of course I didn’t hate it; he always made it sound gorgeous, but I loved the more earthy, tender sounds - songs that you could sit in the bath and vibe/pour your eyes out to. Vanna’s sound was cool, she worked a lot with the 1975, Dirty Hit’s biggest signing. Working with her was very fun, hearing about her stories with them and lots of other big musicians she has produced allowed me to have a little fangirl moment a couple times in the studio.

“Do you have an idea on which producers are coming along?” I continued.

“I’m just gonna give Ben a call and see when he’s available,” she replied. Yes! Thank god. “Thought I’d give you a call first before I called anyone else… but I know you haven’t met yet but Jamie thinks it would be a great opportunity to work with Matty aswell.”

“Matty… Healy, from the 1975?” I stutter. Surely not, I know he worked with Baebadoobee and a couple others on their latest work but surely he wouldn’t take the time to work with someone who’s just starting, would he? I wasn’t a huge 1975 fan, but I knew of their songs and Matty’s work and I admired them a lot. I’d kill to get to the level they are, but all in good time.

“Yeah, actually!” She laughed slightly through the phone. Woah. “He actually works a lot with our artists to establish their sound, you know what I mean? and he’s really talented, I promise. He was a part of our meeting today and he’s got a lot of good ideas that I think you’ll like, not to mention all the advice he can give you with starting out and he can talk you through his own experiences as well.”

“That’s amazing, I love his work!” I smile to myself, probably looking like an idiot in front of all these serious, fast walking Londoners. It seems so unbelievable that Matty Healy would take any time out of his busy schedule to work on my music, he must be bored. “If that’s something he is interested in, then I’d absolutely love to work together on something.”

“Okay, that’s perfect!” She replied. “No, he’s very interested, don’t worry. He went with Beabadoobee on a work getaway a few months ago, working on some new stuff and they made some gorgeous music - think he just wants the bragging rights again really. But, honestly he’s a star, you'll love him.”

As I was settling myself down on the busy train, Holly was writing down my best dates for the trip and ended the phone call pleasantly soon after. A Sunday to Wednesday a few weeks from now was the time they had written down for Matty’s availability and that worked with me! God knows where they were going to take us, but I couldn’t help but get excited. Me, Ben and sexy Matty Healy. I just hope he’s not a dick.

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

girl, i wanna see you undo it

i wanna see you but you’re not mine.

how the other batboys react to a breakup

18+, mdni !!!!!!

readers can expect: a fem reader, lotttta angst, cursing, mentions of violence, sexually explicit scenes including mentions of penetration, oral, and masturbation. also tim drake being a creep via e-stalking but reader is aware of it and more or less okay with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your ex boyfriend, bruce wayne, was avoiding alfred.

his butler was insisting on signing him up for therapy, and bruce was dodging him, hard. he didn’t have it in him. he wouldn’t go pay a professional to hear how pathetic he was over the lack of you in his life. couldn’t. he’s found a much more effective way to get out his emotions.

one that involves his fists and a goon’s face.

it was probably cruel, these poor goons were just trying to feed their families, or something, but batman was indifferent.

he was now always nearing dangerously close to breaking his no-kill rule. almost always teetering over that edge. even with his own life. he’d head out in the batsuit, prowling the seediest streets of gotham, hoping, practically praying, for someone to do something illegal. he would put himself in the most deadly situations just to feel alive. wasn’t the healthiest solution, but.

did he care? no.

bruce was numb, unfeeling to those around him. he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror, not at the stupid fuck who’d lost the love of his life. he’d lagged behind in his case solving, gordon was growing increasingly more concerned. he was rude to the paparazzi asking after you, almost able to hear your voice in his ear, telling him to be nicer to them, whacking him on the bicep. he’d throw his usual charity galas, sure, but would send dick or jason in his place to showboat. he didn’t have the patience to talk to reporters. didn’t want to show face if you weren’t there on his arm. you always made the social aspect much more bearable. would always help him relieve the stress of it all after the event had ended.

but did he still care about you? yes.

just like when you were dating, bruce taking care of you was second nature.

he wouldn’t dare cancel the flower deliveries he’d set up when the two of you were together. they appeared at your apartment door every week and a half, always something different, but always in your favorite colors. you couldn’t stay mad at them either, the flowers brightened up your kitchen so nicely. when you and bruce were dating, he’d merged your calendars, just so scheduling was easier. you’d since deleted the connection, but he somehow still knows when you have appointments, as you’ll come out of your building’s lobby to a sleek black wayne enterprises car. the chauffeur opening the car door for you silently. you’d take it over the subway every time, even if it was a little awkward.

the dating app you’d downloaded after the breakup kept glitching, never letting you text any of your matches back. if you cared more, you’d contact support, but it was so odd. everything else on your phone works perfectly fine! but you had a gut feeling it had something to do with your ex boyfriend.

bruce might’ve slipped oracle a few bills for her silence over that favor.

he tried not to think about the fact you were already willing to start dating again. he couldn’t fathom being with anyone else. could not possibly wrap his head around it. why would he want anyone when he could have you? when he had already had you? everyone else seemed..lackluster.

it’s the same reason he’d been celibate since the breakup. after you, he was tainted. he didn’t think he’d ever be able to have sex again without thinking of you. especially in his own house. the two of you had fucked on every surface possible, seriously. tried every position.

it’d been difficult just sleeping in his own bed when he used to share it with you. used to make your legs shake as you gripped at the sheets. would never make you beg for anything, eating you out until you couldn’t take it anymore. that’s when bruce would press you up against him, holding you up with his huge arms as he pounded into you, his balls slapping against your clit as you whined, barely able to form words.

he’d never been with anyone the way he had with you. so obviously he wasn’t even able to finish with his own hand. it was nothing, nothing compared to the way you felt. his imagination would never have him moaning the way you could. could never make him melt the way you oh so easily were able to, with just a look.

so he was numb. and bruce just figured that’s how he’d stay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your ex boyfriend, jason todd, throws his book across the room, flinching when it thuds against the wall opposite.

annoyed at the surprise romantic subplot, he huffs out a breath from behind his hands. he has to get over his sudden aversion to romance, but it feels impossible after losing you. he can’t watch any of his favorite movies, can only read a select few of his favorite books.

he barely even goes out anymore, mostly to avoid seeing couples on dates. the two of you loved going out together, loved going out to community events like concerts in the park, fairs in the summer. he missed accompanying you to your nephew’s t-ball games, watching you cheer and beam up at him in one of his old baseball hats.

so he barely goes out. he doesn’t have you with him!

he saw an elderly couple strolling in the park the other day. jason had promptly turned in the opposite direction, to avoid crumpling into a ball and sobbing or throwing up into the nearest trash can.

he’d gotten back onto his bike and rode home, going way over the speed limit. he didn’t care about being safe on it anymore, not when you weren’t there to ask him to or be his backpack. he missed the way you’d hold on to him, your thighs bracketing his torso as the bike roared. how at stoplights you’d rub your palms over his chest, grabbing his pecs with your gloved hands. your resulting giggle was muffled through your motorcycle helmet, but it was still the sweetest sound in the world to him.

but jason stopped bothering trying to function out in public after that, only ever really leaving his place for missions and to train at wayne manor.

and boy, had he been training. ever since the two of you had broken up, he’d been working out to the point of exhaustion.

barely peeling himself off of the floor after each workout, always heading straight to the shower to rinse the sweat off while he zoned out into the steam. after his workouts was the only time he would relieve himself. he’d hunch over with one hand propping him up opposite the tiled wall, the other fisted around his cock as he thought of your pretty smile, your gorgeous eyes, the meat of your thighs, the curve of your ass. how you’d clench around his cock with yet another orgasm, moaning his name into the mattress.

he’d finish, hard, his body shuddering, leaving him to be ashamed with himself.

he wasn’t allowed to do this, he wasn’t allowed to think of you like you were still his. all this and yet the pain in his muscles still didn’t ease the pain in his heart, the pain seeping into his bones whenever he thought about you.

jason was still hesitant to be around his siblings.

you had left your perfume in his bathroom, and while he knows it sounds crazy, he's been spraying it on his clothes. he misses the way they would smell like you after you’d borrow them. he still hadn’t touched one of his flannels, the one you loved to steal and loved to see him in. he didn’t see the point in wearing it if you weren’t there to see it.

the last time he’d seen damian, his little brother had loudly asked him why he “smelled girly.”

jason had turned bright red and mumbled something probably unintelligible before briskly walking away, bumping into the doorframe on his way out.

he’s been spraying your perfume on the pillow you’d always use too, snuggling it close to his chest like he used to with you while he fell asleep.

it’s definitely not the same, but it’s the closest jason has to the real thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tim drake, your ex boyfriend, swiveled in his desk chair, spinning back and forth. the monitors covering the wall above his desk were alive with various video feeds and social media websites.

@user892548276 was viewing your instagram story, a gorgeous selfie of you that tim had already screenshotted. he had plans for that later. @gothamite69 was liking your latest tweet, while @ilovedoggiess couldn’t get enough of your latest tiktok.

he knew he had to switch up the users so you’d think it was bots. you’d figure it out otherwise. too bad he had a thing for smart people.

he nodded, satisfied at the cctv feed of the street your apartment building was on, before throwing a hoodie on over his bare chest. tim strolled into the kitchen, his sweats slung low on his hips. he ran a hand through his hair, using the other to grab the coffee pot to refill his mug.

“hey, tim. whatcha up to?” jason leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed.

tim jumped, turning around.

“just some surveillance, nothing much.” he replied, hoping he sounded nonchalant.

“ohh, that case for bats?”

“mmhm.” tim cracked his knuckles, something of a nervous habit he’d developed after the breakup. and his serious lack of sleep.

“well, i won’t keep you. tell y/n i said hi!”

tim flinched at the mention of you as jason left in the direction of the garage. it’s not his brother’s fault. jay had been really busy with the outlaws lately, never home long enough to realize tim hadn’t brought you over in weeks. tim scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. maybe it was the exhaustion muddling things, but tim can’t remember the last time he’d had a full night’s sleep. it was already difficult falling asleep. it only made it worse that every time he did fall asleep he dreamed about you.

but dick had noticed. he had slowly transitioned tim’s assignments to mainly desk work. his older brother was probably worried about him being too tired on the field and getting hurt. but he hadn’t told bruce. tim preferred it that way. he didn’t need a big fuss about if he was okay or his performance level as a hero.

tim grabbed his mug, making his way back to his bedroom. he caught a glimpse of a dark figure in the window, spooking himself. he was on edge so much worse than usual. his reflection stared back at him, his face skinny and his eyebags dark against the pale skin of his cheeks.

tim shook his head, heading into his bedroom. he swayed a little, locking the door behind him. he set his mug on his desk, sitting down in his chair just in time to see you heading down the street.

he stood up so fast his chair rocketed back, hitting the wall. you usually don’t go out on thursday nights. is everything okay??

he types frantically, finding different angles to effectively follow you down the street, physically recoiling to see you stop at a restaurant. just another date.

you stopped, looking around, waving when you spot a blond guy walking towards you. tim enhances the best he can, zooming in on this asshole who thinks he’s good enough for you. tim scoffs out loud at the wrinkled shirt your date has on, looking ridiculous in comparison to your beauty.

the sundress you’re in is one of his favorites, red and white and flowery. he gulps down a sip of coffee at his screen when you turn around, the fabric hugging your body. he blinks, snapping out of it as your date ushers you into the restaurant. tim cracks his knuckles. he reaches for his phone, pulling up your contact. he itches to call you, to pull you out of the date you’re on, to make you think about him instead of that tool you’re with.

but he can’t. he shouldn’t.

he pulls up the screenshot of your story instead, staring at the selfie of you in his favorite sundress. his cock twitches against the fabric of his sweats. he can’t even count how many times he’s had you rutting against him with that dress hiked up to your waist.

he tosses his phone onto his bed, sitting back in his desk chair as he palms his cock, his brain full of thoughts of you.

you pressed up against him in a slinky dress as you slow dance at a wayne gala. waking up in your bed how the two of you fell asleep, naked, limbs intertwined. dancing in a gotham nightclub together, your hair in your face as you throw your arms up and swivel your hips in his direction in your shortest dress. the texts and pictures you’d been sending back and forth after the breakup, unable to let each other go.

tim throws his head back as he finishes, your name on his lips. his body rigid, the warm liquid all over his hands. he cleans himself off, staring into nothing until his computer dings at the motion detected on your street. you’re strutting down the sidewalk, the street empty. before you head inside your building, you stare into the cctv camera across the street. you wave, smiling coyly. tim sits up straighter, holding his breath. you hold up your thumb, and tim groans. that guy??

but you flip your thumb down at the camera, shaking your head. bad date.

tim whoops, beaming.

he shuts down his computer before flopping onto his bed, burrowing under the covers. five minutes later, he’s fast asleep as his coffee grows cold where it sits on his desk.

[lottiecrabie]

anatomy – matty healy

matty is supposed to tutor you in biology, but there’s another subject you’re much more interested in…

or tutor!au <3

tags: 18+, oral sex, unprotected sex, dry humping, dom/sub undertones, choking, cumplay, virgin!matty, freaky little loser guy

6802 words

You sit on top of the sheets of your bed, ankles crossed. You pop your bubblegum, flipping boredly through your Cosmo. Lipsticks, perfectly preened women, and the top ten sex tips flip in front of your eyes. You halt at the horoscope, indulgently checking yours. You’re not superstitious: it’s just that anything is better than this godforsaken lesson. 

“And, you see, the specific shape of the active site of an enzyme enables it to function,” Matty drawls on, unfaltered by your clear disinterest. Maybe he doesn’t see; his nose is pulled tightly in his book. “It’s— It’s really a simple understanding of 'lock and key'. You can think of enzyme activity as molecular collisions resulting in the formation of enzyme-substrate complexes.” All the terms blur together in your mind. In one ear, transformed and decorated by the pretty pink things on your page, then out the other. 

You almost feel bad for Matty, pushed into your room by your parents with pleading, desperate eyes to make you learn something. He sits at your desk while you distract yourself with whatever is more interesting which, as it so happens, is almost everything. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t say much to you other than hey and a string of jargon you don’t care to understand. It’s not like your bitchy, unimpressed stare is very welcoming. 

Matty has this nervous, twitchy energy about him. He stutters through half of his sentences, pushing his glasses up his nose, searching for the fixed point in his book he lost. He swallows thickly, starts again. An awkward, limby thing. 

Really, it’s a shame he wears all those nerdy shirts and drowning clothes, as well as those horrendous thick, square glasses. If you assess him objectively enough, he could be quite pretty. He’s lean, with a cutting jaw, and adorable curly hair. Girls would look away a flutter of red flags if it meant birthing kids with those traits. 

You sigh, pushing the Cosmo off your bed, rolling to your belly. You rest your chin on your crossed arms, eyeing Matty. He gives you a look at the shifting noise, rounding his eyes as they fall on the stripe of skin your loose lounging shorts have revealed in the crossfire. It’s barely a few centimeters of your asscheeks, but Matty blushes all the same, flipping back to his book as though burned. You smirk. Interesting.

“Matty,” you trail lightly, the cadence of a song. 

You found your bright new, shining distraction. Your smile is vicious and dangerous, ready to bite, to gnaw to the bone. 

Matty looks up at you, incertain. You rarely address him during your tutoring lessons. You’re not even sure you’ve said his name before, at least not to him. “I’m bored with biology,” you declare, artfully pouty and dejected. 

“Oh,” he says. He swallows thickly. Flips through his book. His nervous tics make him all the more tantalizing to you. Some cruel need to toughen him up. “Um—”

You lick your teeth, grinning. “I want to study anatomy.”

Matty laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That’s not in the syllabus.” There’s something about his total misunderstanding of your line that makes the need frizzle inside of you. An innocent little thing, to pick and devour through. 

You sit up, resting your weight on your heels. Your knees part suggestively, the loose shorts riding up your thighs. Your crop top sits up your ribs. Belly button piercing winks at him. Matty takes in the sight, face pale. You grin, victorious.  

“I didn’t mean that anatomy,” you say, teasing. You rest a hand loosely on your leg, purposefully dragging his stare down to it. Your pink nails flash against your skin. 

“Oh.” He swallows thickly, hypnotized by the soft flesh of your thighs. “I—” He shakes his head, as if to draw himself out of the daydream. “I, um—” He repeats, then laughs, “What?”

You sigh, kneeling up and getting off the bed. Your bare feet wiggle in the fuzzy, pink carpet. You prowl to him, predator-like. His breath hitches in his throat, right where you want it. 

“Matty,” you sing, and he chokes at the sound. Just his name drives him wild— good to know. You get close enough to lean on the desk, to tower over him. He blinks up at you, robbed of speech. You flutter your eyelashes at him. “Are you a virgin?” 

His lips part in surprise, but he doesn’t answer. Not that he needs to; the fucking sight of him is enough to know. It’s about the fun of watching him stumble, stutter, push his little glasses up his nose, telltale signs you revel in. 

You sit on the desk, bunching his careful notes. You trail two fingers up his shoulder, that awful cheap plaid. You almost resent the feel of it on your skin, if not for the way he shivers. 

You pout mockingly at him, stopping where the collar of his shirt meets the skin of his neck. “Are you gonna answer me?” 

“Yeah— yes.” You run your fingertips on his neck, a grazing touch that has him staring up at you in devotion. You smirk. 

“Have you ever been touched like this?” You run your thumb to the other side of his neck, a strong path. You want him to feel it, until your hand stretches over his throat, possessive. 

He swallows under your palm, Adam’s apple bobbing on your fortune-telling palm lines. “No,” he admits quietly. You feel it resonate more than you hear it. 

You hum, silently thrilled. “And have you ever been kissed?” You whisper. 

Matty stares up at you. He waits a second, two— takes his time. “No.” You smirk. You pick your gum between two fingers, pressing it into the corner of his notes. Perfect. 

It’s a little awkward, of course, because you’re perched on the desk and he’s sitting all the way down on his chair, gripping its arms. But, still, you bend down and kiss him square on the mouth. 

He gasps against you, freezing there. You’re undeterred; you kiss and kiss him, smearing your strawberry lipgloss, until he snaps into action and kisses you back. It’s a rhythmless, artless thing.

He doesn’t know how to kiss. 

What he lacks in technique, he makes up in eagerness, opening his mouth and licking a wet tongue into yours. You giggle a little, taste the Sour Patch kids he nervously ate from his bag between two scientific words you purposefully didn’t remember. You press at his throat, just so he’s as breathless as you are. He moans against your lips, panting. 

Matty doesn’t dare touch. His body is fixed to the desk chair, letting himself be kissed, taking only what you are willing to offer. He sits there like you are breathing life into his mouth, eating and eating and never asking for more. It’s what makes you want to give him more. 

You pull away from him, straightening like a queen taking her throne. Under you, the pages wrinkle and ruffle, and he doesn’t even care. His lips are swollen and pink, shiny from the lipgloss. Breaths puff out from there, pulling attention. 

“You’re kinda pretty,” you admit lowly, like a secret he should know. 

“Thanks,” Matty flushes. 

You release his throat, wiping your pink gloss off his lips. They part instinctively. You smile, slipping your thumb inside. He sucks the strawberry, warm tongue on your fingerprint. Power loosens your head.

“Do you want me?” You ask, as though his mouth drooling around your thumb wasn’t indication enough. You want the words; you want the worship. 

“Yeth,” he says, choking on your finger. You smile, taking it out and drying it on his cheek.

You don’t make a big show of taking your shirt off. Your hands are at the hem of your baby tee, then it’s off your shoulders, thrown on the pink carpet. Matty whines, surprised and overwhelmed, throwing a furtive glance at the cracked door of your bedroom. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand. Soft and weak; he hasn’t worked a day in his life. It’s slack between your fingers. He lets you puppeteer it to your breasts, lets you grope yourself with him as an instrument. 

He makes another small noise from the back of his throat, staring at the fucking sight like he can’t quite believe it truly is his own hand. “God,” he mutters to himself, and it’s exactly how you feel. 

“Say thank you,” you taunt him, because you know he will. 

Like clockwork, Matty revels, “Thank you.” Growing bold, he rubs a thumb over your hard nipple, a tough callus you didn’t expect on the tip of it. It makes you moan; a crack in your spotless armor, but he doesn’t even notice. Too preoccupied with playing with your tits, pawing at it greedily. 

“Can I—” He flushes, shaking his head. 

“What?”

“Can I lick them?” A drop of heat strikes through you. You clench your thighs, arching your back into his readied palm. 

“Yes.” He leans in before you’ve finished the s, sucking your abandoned nipple into his mouth. He licks and rubs and pinches, raw skill pulling at your sensitive skin. You bite back groans, breathing harshly. Your chest rises and falls into his mouth, but he’s just as diligent. 

You rake a long-nailed hand into his hair, scratching his scalp with every particularly delicious lick. He moans at that, vibrating on your sensitive nipples. 

He sticks his tongue out, panting like a dog, dipping down to the valley of your tits and pressing a kiss, then climbing up a new breast. He bites gently, and you jump, surprised by his boldness. 

“Sorry,” he whispers. You don’t like this little switch-up in power. He’s supposed to be purring for you, enthrallment shining in his eyes. You tug on his hair, making him look at you. 

Matty stares up, dutiful. He doesn’t care about the power game; hasn’t even realized you were slipping. He takes what you give. 

You soothe away the sting of his hair. “Pretty boy,” you coo. Matty beams at that. “I want to hear you scream.”

With this, you jump off the desk, and kneel under it. 

“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide as he watches you fumble with his pants. You unbutton and unzip, fast and knowledgeable, dipping into his boxers— “Wait.”

You look up at him, inches from your goal. You cock your head, frowning. “What?”

“Just—” He pants, staring at you. “Just give me a second.”

You hum, grazing a finger on the faint happy trail of his stomach. His belly sucks in. “Are you nervous?”

“No,” he says. “Yes. I don’t know.” He laughs. His hands still grip the armrests, white-knuckled. “Why are you doing this?” 

You shrug. “I want to.” You tip your head, kissing his soft hand. “Do you want me to?” 

“Well, yeah.”

You grin. “Relax.” Finally, your hand slips under his underwear, and you wrap around his hard length. He gasps, cold fingers against hot skin, fingers against him. 

His hips jump into your fist as you draw him out. Another nervous glance to the door, still half-opened. Your parents are somewhere in the house, pretending not to exist. You lick your lips.

You lightly scratch your pink nails against him. You run a thumb on his tip, smearing precum. He hisses, turning into a moan as you slowly drag your hand down. He’s frozen and tense, almost afraid of moving, as if that would make you go away. 

“Teach me,” you say. 

He blinks at you, dazed. “Huh?” 

Your eyes vaguely look up to the desk you hide under, biology notes in his scratchy writing laying wrinkled. “Biology. My parents are paying you for a reason, aren’t they?” 

“Oh—” He flushes, embarrassed. Pushes his glasses up. “Right, right.” His hands let go of the armrests, searching through the pages. You choose this moment to kiss the tip of his cock. He whimpers, shutting his eyes in pleasure. “Fuck.” You giggle, all too happy. 

He struggles to find where you disturbed him, biting his lip in comical concentration. You tease him, enjoying all the little breaths he chokes on, the soft sounds he tries to hide. Your hand pumps up and down, twisting at the wrist. 

You wonder how often he’s done this on himself, who he imagined between his legs. 

From now, it’ll be you. You’ll make sure of it. 

“Um, right, so,” Matty starts, out of breath. “In some reactions,” he continues arduously, “one substrate is broken down into multiple products. And—” Devilishly, you lick a stripe up his length. He groans, twitching on your tongue. “Shit,” he mutters. It’s funny coming from him; the swear rings wrong, like a costume. 

He drags his stare down, pulling away from his notes to watch you. You indulge him, parting your lips and wrapping them around his tip. You suck on it gently. His face wrinkles, a moan breaking from him. You pull your head down, swallowing him. He clutches at his papers, scrunching them himself. 

“Oh, God,” Matty says, trying to catch his breath as you bob your head. “I’m— Shit.” 

You let go of him with a wet pop, stroking him quickly. “Shh,” you tease him. “My parents.” Again, he throws a nervous look towards the door. 

Saliva and lipgloss and precum already lube him, but you keep your hand at his base as you spit on his cock. You drag it down his length. Matty’s eyes snap towards you. “Do that again.” He wants to see you.

You smirk, tilting your head to leave wet kisses up his cock, then lick his tip. You spit on it, and a low groan resonates from him. His hips rise up into your hand, but you push them down with your claws. 

“Fuck,” he whimpers from the back of his throat, melting on the chair. He likes it messy. You grin, peppering little kisses over his cock, smearing him in strawberry lipgloss. 

“What’s the other thing?” 

“Huh?” He blinks, tying himself back to reality. “Right, um, substrates. It’s—” Again, you choose this moment to push him down your throat. He loses speech, mumbling incoherent syllables, some broken version of your name. 

Though your head bobs quickly, pulling further and further down his length, twisting a stroking hand all the same, you pinch your nails at his hip. He jumps, struck out of the daze of pleasure, blinking down at you. 

“Yeah, it’s— The other reactions are—” You let go of his hip, pinching your own nipple instead. Matty whines, losing his train of thought. “You’re not being fair.”

You laugh, spitting him out to catch your breath. You grope yourself and he watches, not sure which hand to focus on. His cheeks are tinted red, maybe from effort, or adrenaline, or shyness. It’s cute enough to bite. 

Wonder shines in his eyes. He can’t believe this is happening; he’s eternally grateful, as he should be. As they all should have been, those faceless men you’ve blown in the bathrooms of parties for attention and a momentary stop to complete boredom. They stayed quiet, almost afraid to make noise, to show they enjoyed it, until they shook and spilled inside your mouth. Matty’s not afraid to moan. 

Your brain rushes, sticky happy. You pant on his cock, trailing a finger down your stomach, then dipping in your shorts. Matty’s eyes widen, straightening to catch a glimpse. You smile, catching a pool of your arousal. 

You come back up, fingers sticky and wet with your slick, and smear it on his cock. Matty scrunches his face, whimpering, shaking under your hands. 

“You’re trying to kill me.”

“Only because it’s easy,” you mock, jerking and twisting your two hands in rhythm, wet sounds ringing in the room. 

You free his cock, gripping the armrests of the chair instead. You wrap your mouth around it, and bend down until your nose touches the faint smatterings of dark hair on his belly. You gag on him, and he strangles the edge of the desk trying to kill his moans. 

You pump him in your mouth quickly, feeling him twitch and rise to meet you. He remembers himself, falling down on the chair dutifully, not even burying a needy hand in your hair, as though afraid that would be asking for too much. 

You drag up, making him hit the inside of your cheek, before releasing him. You spit the precum on him, blinking up through teary eyes. He doesn’t have any words, red swollen lip bitten raw. 

“I taste great,” you say, and then offer up your still-wet fingers to him. He’s eager, sucking them into his mouth. He bobs, imitating you, and the sight and feel makes hot desire drip inside of you. 

You want to squeeze him until he pops. 

You take his hand, pulling it into your hair. He grips instinctively, pushing it out of your face. “Don’t push,” you warn, serious. He nods frantically, and you trust him to mean it. 

You take him into your mouth for what you know is the final time. You’re certain he won’t last long, droopy and moaning and twitching, hissing every time your tongue runs on him. You bob with skill and precision still. He tugs at your hair, both hands in now, trembling in the mess of it. He never pushes, or fucks his hips up; trusts you to undo him yourself. 

He swears and curses and whimpers, head falling down and back, vacillating between the sky and your red, puffy face. The sink is heard from faraway, but you don’t think he can even hear it. 

“I'm dreaming,” he whispers to himself, sounding wild. “I’m gonna wake up. I’m gonna be— I’m gonna—” Matty cries, slapping a hand over his mouth, and comes down your throat. He shakes, loud moans hidden in his palm, eyes shut and forehead wrinkled. 

He lets go of your hair with a fucked-out sigh, panting. His eyes never leave you, disbelief written all over it. You pull him out of your throat, and smile at him. 

You’re about to swallow when he touches your arm, unsure of where he’s allowed to now. “Wait, can you—” He grows embarrassed, blushing. “Can you open your mouth?”

You part your lips, showing off his white cum still sitting on your tongue. He whimpers at the sight, fingers digging into your arm. His breathing turns irregular, cheeks reddening, eyes darkening. He’s so strange. 

Still, you stick your tongue out, putting his load in evidence, making a spectacle of it. He looks tortured, enthralled. 

You stay long enough that you feel it run down, long white rope hanging from your tongue, then dropping on your breast. 

“Fuck,” Matty whispers to himself. Seemingly without thinking, he runs his thumb on your breast, catching his cum and sucking it between his lips. 

You smile, slurping the cum back into your mouth, and swallowing it. You flash your red tongue at him. “All clean.”

“Thank you,” Matty says. “I— I’m not sure why you did that, but— I, you know, appreciate it.” He’s so polite. You’d laugh if he wouldn’t snap back into that little head box of his. 

“I’m very thankful for all those lessons,” you wink.

“No, you’re not.” 

“No, I’m not.” Matty’s finger rubs the skin of your arm, that strangely tough callus, and it has you leaning into his touch. “Though, this has been my favorite lesson.” 

“God, I couldn’t even get a word out.”

“Hence why.”

Matty snorts and he offers you a hand. You grab it to manœuvre out from under the desk. You push your sweaty hair out of your face, then wipe the leftover stickiness from your breasts. 

Matty, of course, follows the movement to your tits. He swallows. “Do you, um,” he pushes his glasses up. “Do you want, like, something back?” 

You arch an eyebrow, incapable of holding a small giggle this time. “Do you know how?”

He stares into your eyes. “I could try.”

And, again, there’s just something about his eagerness, his willingness, his open devotion, that has you saying, “Yeah, I guess you could try.”

You tiptoe to your bedroom door, looking left and right into the hallway, before quietly shutting it. You turn around to a displeased Matty. “Oh, so you get to have it closed?” 

“‘S more fun when you’re struggling,” you shrug, devilish. You run to the bed, falling on the pillows, fluttering your eyelashes at him. “Come here, pretty boy.” He practically trips out of his chair to find you. He’s three steps in when you stop him. “Take your clothes off.”

He grows shy under your gaze. Staying in place, fingers shaking, he starts to unbutton his plaid shirt. He kicks off his sneakers and his baggy jeans until he stands there in his boxers. He’s as scrawny as you imagined him to be. You smile. 

Matty crosses his arms. “Can I see you, too?” He whispers.

You shimmy your shorts off your legs and throw it beyond the bed. Matty’s stare stutters on your pink thong, wet patch where your desire pooled. 

You draw a hand towards him and he takes it, falling over you on the bed. He doesn’t waste time, giving you a sloppy kiss before mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, your tits. He laps at them first and you wonder if he’s trying to get the last lingering taste of his cum. He catches a nipple next and sucks it. 

Gaspy moans leave your lips. You part your legs instinctively and he buries between them, already hardening. His cock hits your thigh and he sucks and pinches and plays until you start thinking he might really be able to try. 

Your hands descend down his back, freckled under your nails. You grip his small waist, pushing at his hip, the hem of his boxers. Matty understands, leaving you long enough to kick them off. He pants in front of you, leaning back already, wet, swollen mouth parted. 

Matty lays over you again and his hard cock presses into your need. You scratch your nails up his back and he jerks, bucking into you. A moan leaves both your mouths. He tries again, artless, just off your clit. 

“Oh,” he whispers, mostly to himself. He does it again, building and building heat inside of you, yet never relieving. 

You huff. You sneak a hand between your bodies, moving your thong aside until he slips under it. 

Another boy would have taken the opportunity, would have buried inside before you even had time to nod, but Matty doesn’t even think of it. 

He humps your wet cunt, tucked tight under your underwear, hem pressing his length. Matty moans every time, quickening, desperate. He tilts his hand to better see as his cock bulges the cloth, a wet patch forming where his precum stains. 

“Fuck.”

And it’s better; he’s faster, and firmer, and mostly there. He follows your little puffs of shameful breaths, staying where they transform into slack moans. Pleasure starts waking up inside your belly, sickly warm. 

But you’ve had boys hump at you before, had them bucking between your legs. You know it’s not what will get you off. You need your mind stimulated, to be so thoroughly hot and desperate you finally let yourself go. 

You pinch the nape of his neck, making him look at you. A slack, messy smirk lays on your lips. You tease, “Have you ever thought of me during our tutoring sessions?” 

Matty’s hips stutter. He looks away. “Like…”

“Yeah, like, on my knees.”

Matty blushes. “Well, yeah.” 

You grin, too pleased. A deadly smile, hunting. “When?”

“I don’t know…” He mutters. You scowl to yourself, and maybe he senses that, because his chin grazes your shoulder and he admits shamefully, “When you ate that popsicle. And you licked and you slurped and you sucked and, just— I’m a guy. I had visions.” 

“I had visions.” You imitate, mocking. You tsk, “You're such a nerd.” You roll your hips back against him and a whimper buries in the skin of your shoulder. “Was it how you imagined?”

“Better.” He nods fervently. “So much fucking better. I actually died, I think. Still unsure whether I’m dead or not.” Pride and power makes your head loose, makes pleasure ripple through your flesh. 

You claw at his skin, warning dangerously, “Tell anyone and you will be.” All it does is make him moan, bucking faster against you. Your toes curl. You breathe in his ear, “Tell me more.” 

“I, uh— Shit.” The tip of his cock burrows in your underwear as he slides, wet and slick from you. He shivers over you. “I’d think about— bending you over the desk.” 

Your smile ghosts your face, grazing his soft, fresh cheek. “Really?”

“Just, you know, when you wouldn’t listen. And you’d pop that chewing gum, and you’d ignore me, and you’d be mean.”

You smirk, clicking your tongue. “So you wanted to, what, toughen me up? Take your revenge?”

His cheeks redden. “No.” His lips brush your shoulders, and he kisses, opposite. “I don’t know. I wanted you to pay attention.” He licks your neck. “I wanted to make you scream.” Mouths at your jaw. “I wanted to fuck you. Or for you to fuck me— I wanted you.”

You can’t believe you’re now the one blushing. You pant, glad he’s buried in your throat, that he can’t see. A moan slips from you as he nips gently at your skin. Your eyes roll in your skull. 

“You like when I’m mean to you?” You tease meanly, out of breath. You scratch his back, burying your hand in his hair, and tugging until he looks you in the eyes. “Gets you all bothered?” 

Matty shivers, whining, “Fuck, please—” 

You push him onto his back, rolling over. Two hands press into his chest, and you might very well concave his ribcage. You stare him down, divine. “You wanted me to fuck you?” 

His messy, unbrushed hair falls around his head like a halo. He’s sweet enough to make your head spin. He watches you openly behind the glass of his specs, breathing, “Yes.”

You trail your fingernails on his hard cock, down to his base. “And now?”

Devoting, “Yes.”

A rush of thrill fills you. You kneel up, shimmying your underwear off. Matty gasps at the sight, raking a hungry gaze up and down your body. He holds the sheets of your bed with white-knuckled fingers. 

You waste no time, rocking your cunt against his tip once, twice, before slowly lowering yourself on him. You inhale at the stretch. Matty’s eyes shut, whining. “Look at me,” you order, and he listens. 

His eyes flash open. He blinks at you as you bottom out. His head rolls, shaking. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” You go to move up, but he holds your hip down. He takes deep breaths. “Can we— Just, this is—”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand and placing it over the regular beating of your heart. He thumbs your nipple while he’s there, breathing in sync with your pulse. You slowly roll your hips on him. 

Matty moans, gripping the flesh of your thigh. You let him adjust to the feel of it, rocking softly, dragging your clit on his pelvis. You bite your lip raw as pleasure blooms inside of you. Your thighs ache to go faster, harder, but you maintain the delicate pace for him. Just that has him shaking under you, and you once again grip his hand over your heart to ground him. 

“Sorry,” he says with an embarrassed laugh. “Fuck,” is immediately added when you circle your hips, his eyes rolling. “Fuck, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you order. “What are the other reactions?” You say, attempting to drag him out of his anxiety-filled head. He frowns at you. “Of enzymes.”

His lips part. “I didn’t know you knew that term.” 

You roll your eyes, then your hips, euphoria fizzling under your skin. “I listen to you.” His unconvinced look betrays him. “Sometimes.”

“They’re, um— Shit. They come together to create one— fuck, one larger molecule or—” You finally rock faster, angling your hips to have him bury inside you right where you need him. You moan, chest rising and falling quickly. Your legs grow desperate; you chase that sickly pleasure. 

“Yeah?” You encourage him on, seeing his own pleasure resonate in his face. He bites his lip, pawing uselessly at your thigh. “Or?” You’re out of breath. 

“Or swap pieces,” he finally finishes between two moans. Chuckles, “Actually, pretty much all biological reactions you can think of probably—” Your hips fall harsher on him and he loses his train of thought, overwhelmed. You smile, setting a wild pace, completely unfair. 

“Probably what?” You say, teasing, “I’m always thinking about biological reactions.”

“Don’t tease,” he pouts, and you slow down your thrusts just to spite him. He whines, pressing his short fingernails into the skin of your thigh. 

“Come on.” You make him look you in the eyes, mocking, “Educate me.”

“They all have enzymes,” Matty finally finishes. You reward him by reaching down and pinching his nipple. He whimpers, cursing your name. “Why have you suddenly decided to be a good student?” 

“‘Cause you’re adorable when you’re struggling to find words,” you answer honestly. You hold your weight up on the hand pressed into his chest, angling your hips until your clit rubs and rubs his pelvis. Your eyes roll, fucking him quicker. “Fuck. I love when I can make you all stupid for me.” The power in changing up his DNA composition, making a smart boy incapable of remembering all the jargon you yourself don’t know, is addictive. Undoing him block by block until he’s putty in your hands. Matty just moans, not arguing. 

Sweat pearls his forehead. The white sheets make him angelic. He breathes your name, fluttering his eyelashes at you. “Can I try on top?” Maybe it’s because he looks so reverent, so innocent, that you nod. 

Matty doesn’t push you and roll you over, instead staying there, as though waiting for it to just magically happen. You giggle to yourself, unmounting him and falling back on the mattress, legs parted. He swallows thickly, laying over you. 

His glasses fall down his nose and you laugh, grabbing them and carefully placing them on your nightstand. He blinks, adjusting to the blurry sight. 

His hand shakes as he grabs himself and lines up. He misses once, twice, until you rest a soothing hand on his and guide him. Matty moans in your hair as he slides in. He stays in your wet heat for a second, catching his breath, before he thrusts. 

And it’s bad, of course. He doesn’t have any rhythm, bucking blindly inside of you. It’s a strange pace, irregular and powerless. He certainly can’t find any type of mindnumbing spot. Pleasure simmers lowly in your belly, heat turned off almost to nothing if it weren’t for the pretty moans that bury straight in your ear. 

You grab his hip, making Matty look at you. “Start slow,” you instruct, guiding him. He follows the movements of your hand, rocking back and forth, slow but regular. “There,” you nod, arching your back. “Just, tilt—” He repositions himself, eager to learn, and you shudder. You call his name, syrupy with moans. 

He’s a fast learner, following diligently the guidings of your gripping hand. He fucks into you slowly, but surely. Your toes curl. Pleasure wakes up again, coiling in your belly. “Like this?” He breathes. You nod, encouraging him on. 

“It’s like I’m tutoring you,” you remark, chuckling to yourself. Matty snorts. “I like being the smart one for once.”

Matty frowns. “You’re always smart.” He says it without thinking, because he means it. Something wet chokes your throat, tugs at your lips. “You just don’t listen.”

“Would you like me to?” You say, tone taunting. A self-destroying instinct, telling you to hurt, to ruin. “Make me your little pet? Be all obedient? Have me sucking your cock while you tell me all about biology?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Do you want me to do that?” All your bullets don’t land. He’s unconcerned on what he wants. You huff.

Instead of reckoning, you order, “Faster, now.” Matty nods against your cheek. He obeys, thrusting quicker. You let go of his hip, climbing up his back just to rake your nails down it. His hips snap faster, harsher, endeavored. You grin, licking his jaw, kissing the bone. 

“Fuck,” he whimpers, catching your lips and kissing you. You wrap your arms around his neck, trapping him there as he ruts between your legs. You swallow all the sounds he makes, kill the swears you think of saying. Euphoria washes you. 

He leaves your lips just to smack wet kisses over your face, again and again. On your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids, your chin. He mouths down your throat, starts sucking and nipping at the side. You bury a hand into his hair, pushing him further down. “Not the neck,” you explain, breathy. 

Matty finds the side of your tits and he buries there, sucking at your skin. You arch into his mouth, pleasure rushing up your side at the pinpricks of pain. He moans against you, bucking faster. Your mind spins and spins. “Matty.” Again, he speeds up, harsh and wild. “Fucking hell, Matty.” 

You tug at his hair and he releases you, lips wet and swollen. He pants over you, eyes dazed with pleasure. A new wave of heat strikes you just from the sight of him, unmade and wild. You sneak a hand between your bodies. You find your clit easily, rubbing. 

Matty’s head drops to watch you. He whines, seeing where he disappears inside of you, over and over, where your pink nails swipe at you. 

He leans his weight on one arm, joining his own hand with yours. You’re surprised at the act, at the willingness of involving himself in the complicated business of your pleasure. Your fingers stop, resting up on your stomach. 

He paws blindly at your cunt, just a little off where you need him. You grip his wrist, angling him at the right place, gently circling and swiping with his finger. The callus presses on your clit and it’s a delicious sensation. You roll your eyes, crying out, then slapping your palm over your mouth. Matty grins proudly, continuing to rub at you. 

“This is good, right?” He whispers, pretty eyes all vulnerable on you. 

You nod frantically. “Yes. It’s good.” You melt on the sheets, parting your legs further. “It’s really good.” His cheeks flush at the compliment. You wrap your hand around his throat, resting there with silent ownership. “Did you ever think it’d be me?” 

Matty chokes on a laugh and a moan. “No. I never thought you’d ever even give me a look.” 

You hum, pleased with the answer. He realizes it’s a privilege. You grin, pressing your fingers on the sides of his neck. His hips stutter, then snap even faster, a broken cry leaving him. His lips part in quiet ecstasy. His eyes shut,  rapid movement behind his eyelids. 

You grin at him. “Say thank you, pretty boy.” 

You release him, at least giving him a chance. He falls into your shoulder, taking deep inhales, shaking. “Thank you,” he says, mumbly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You rake through his hair, soothing. “Aw, fuck, I’m gonna—” He twitches inside of you. 

“Not inside!” You shout. Matty gasps, thrusting out of you. He cries as he comes on your navel and cunt. He catches his breath, blinking himself back to this reality, still shaking. 

“Sorry,” he says, shortwinded. A pang of disappointment hits you. It’s not like you’ve ever come with someone else before, but it had felt really close this time. 

At least Matty tried. 

Matty watches his cum painted over your skin, catching your piercing, mixing with the slick of your cunt. He moans to himself, then bends down between your thighs. 

You rest on your elbows, frowning. “What—” He licks a stripe over your cunt, tasting both your juices. Euphoria strikes through you. Your back hits the mattress as you fall back, legs shaking. “Matty.” He hums, faraway, licking and licking to clean you all up. You bury a hand in his hair, grounding him in place. 

He finds your clit, rubbing it with the tip of his tongue, circling then sucking it. You jolt on the bed, biting back a scream. You frown to yourself, tugging on his hair, fire boiling inside your stomach. What the fuck. 

He laps at you, moaning every time your nails scratch his scalp, the sound vibrating against you. A hand wraps around your thigh, keeping you open for him. He devours you eagerly, hungrily, until you’re a mess melting into his mouth. 

“God, Matty,” you cry. You have to actually hold back another one with a slap of your hand, shocked at yourself as you scream into your palm. 

Matty stops, breathing harshly, and you throw a glance down in question. He climbs up your stomach, lapping at your skin, cleaning the last of his cum. You whimper at the dirty sight, desire drumming down your limbs. 

He throws you a hot look. Tongue out, full of white cum. He goes back between your legs and buries it in your cunt, fucking it in. You jump, cursing to the ceiling. Matty laughs, greedily tasting you. 

You roll your hips into his face, hitting the tip of his nose on your clit. Every strike has ecstasy resonating in your bones. You feel light on your bones. 

His lips wrap around your clit. He sucks, grazing a tongue, swiping and circling like you showed him. You recognize the same pattern, recognize the rhythm. Of course he’s a fast learner. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, choked by your hand. You raise your hips into his mouth, silently begging. Your legs shake, desperate. Pressure pushes at your belly. Your eyes roll. “Don’t stop.”

He mumbles something in your cunt, probably a promise or a praise, dutifully not stopping. He laps and eats and fucks until your brain melts into your skull, dripping down your spine. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m—” Your head shakes fervently. “Just stay— Shit, Matty, just— I—” The pressure snaps and you come on his readied tongue, screaming. Hot white flashes in your vision. Relief washes you, dipping to every crevices, relaxing you. He moans against your cunt. 

Matty continues to lick you, mission-bound, until your lungs are on fire and you physically push him away. He smiles up at you, chin sticky and wet and red. He wipes it, kneeling. 

“Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” You say, shortwinded, shocked to your bones. You stare at him like he’s grown a second head. 

It’s the first time someone other than your knowing hand made you come. And it’s fucking Matty Healy. You blink at him. 

“What?” He laughs, falling beside you on the bed. 

You gesture vaguely downwards. “That.”

“Oh,” he blushes. Shrugs. “I don’t know. I researched it once.”

“You— Oh, my God.” You stare at the ceiling in disbelief. “Oh, my God. You’re such a nerd.”

Matty grins, cheekily proud. He gently grazes the bruise he left on your breast, the splotch of red that will darken, be a leftover trace of him. 

“Thanks,” he says simply. 

“You’re welcome.” You shift your legs, feeling the wetness still between them. “Thanks to you too, I guess.” He grins, hiding in the white pillows. 

He gives you a look. “Will you listen when I tutor you now?” 

You smirk mischievously. “Maybe if you have my fingers in your mouth.”

“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide. “Will you— Will this happen again?”

You make a noncommittal shrug, though a more definite answer hums in your heart. “Maybe if you’re really good.” You smile to yourself. “Or really boring, and I need to shut you up.”

“You can shut me up any day.”

“I know.” You linger in that moment for just a second more, eyes locked together, smiles tickling your lips. Then you sit up, reaching for your underwear. “Session’s almost done.” 

Matty nods, lips thin. “Right.” He pats the nightstand for his glasses.  

You dress yourselves, wiping away sweat and cum, brushing wild strands. You give an awkward goodbye, incertain, and Matty slips from the room. You don’t follow him to the door. You never do. 

Downstairs, you hear your parents thank him and give him a crisp 50 dollar bill. You giggle to yourself and fall on the bed, bone-deep exhausted. 

[sugar-coat-it]

Teenage Dream

Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans

Be your teenage dream tonight <3

Contains: Drive Like I Do!Matty, slightly subby Matty, first times, young love 🥲, dry humping, hair pulling, Matty being a down bad dork, giggly little mishaps, guided fingering, unsubtle dirty talk, protected penetrative sex, hand-holding during sex, Matty fighting for his life not to cum, first L word

Fem! Reader

WC: ~7.8k

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2007ish: Completely inexperienced but so eager, Matty and his girlfriend have their first time

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Matty can hardly shut the door before your hands are on him, you’re all over him in every sense of the term. You crush your lips to his, making him stumble slightly from the force of your kiss. He smiles against your mouth at your impatience, his chuckle swallowed by the eager locking of your lips. You feel your head swim, almost dizzy at the passion being exchanged as trembling hands reach for everything they can touch, it’s almost like your brain is dripping down your spine. Matty’s fingers knot into your hair as he walks you backward until you’re pressed against his front door. You can practically feel his adrenaline thrumming in his veins, rushing to his every nerve as he licks into your mouth with fervor. He’s still brimming with the rush from his gig, and you’re reeling from the memory of watching him perform. It’s honestly a miracle you’d made it inside his house at all considering the frenzied heat burning you both up from the inside, the flames fanned by the knowledge of what’s planned for the night. Every kiss is sealed with the promise of more.

You can feel the heat radiating off of Matty’s body as he keeps you trapped between his lanky frame and the door, your teeth slightly clashing with his from the intensity of the kiss. He pulls away to catch his breath, panting hot fans of air over your lips as he grins at you widely, toothily. 

“What?” you prompt, breathless, pursing your lips playfully.

Matty swallows thickly, seemingly frozen for a moment as his eyes search your face, quietly observing your touseled hair, swollen lips, cheeks tinged a lovely shade of pink: his new favorite shade of pink. He shakes his head, his thick, dark (and messily side-parted) hair swaying. 

“Nothing, nothing. Sorry. I just–” he pauses, glancing away for a moment like your stare is burning a hole into him, “I dunno… you look very pretty tonight.”

Something sparks in you at that, the realization that Matty, your Matty, was getting a little shy, trying to hide it by looking everywhere but at you. When he finally glances back, finding you a little awestruck, he just smiles fondly, his lips almost a little wobbly. He makes a surprised noise as you pull him by the collar of his shirt into another heated kiss, his hands pawing down your back to hastily grasp the curve of your ass through your jeans. He presses himself impossibly closer to you, his hips flush against yours as excitement thickens the air around you. A tingly shiver rushes through you, leaving blooming warmth in its wake as you feel the tenting in his pants protruding against you. Matty pulls away from your mouth, beginning to press wet, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. You can feel the sound of a low groan rumbling through his chest as he licks a stripe from your collarbones to your jawline.

His hips make a sudden, reflexive jump forward as you tighten your grip on his hair, tugging just enough to draw a wanton moan from his lips. Matty chokes, a new, fizzling sensation arising in him as he realizes just how damn good that felt. Tentatively, he tries again, rolling his hips into you and immediately cursing under his breath at the feeling. Your eyes go wide as the seam of your jeans catches on you just right while he begins to mindlessly search for friction against you. You let out mirrored, breathy moans as Matty lifts his head from the crook of your neck, the both of you staring at each other in awe of your little discovery, sparks flying like stray shooting stars. His gentle, dark eyes twinkle as he watches your expression closely, kiss-bitten lips parted and shining. 

“O-oh shit,” he murmurs, his eyes rolling back slightly as he continues to grind into you. 

The friction is dizzying as you begin to rock into him, matching his slightly stuttered rhythm as you sigh out, giving his dark tresses another pull with the fingers intertwined in his hair. Matty reaches for your thighs, grasping at the back of them pointedly to get your attention. He’d seen it in a music video before, one that his mother wouldn’t approve of him watching on late-night MTV. The girl had jumped up to straddle the guy's waist while they kissed passionately against the wall. That little scene had been nestled in his mind ever since he saw it, he was frankly a little obsessed with it. How hard could it be to replicate? “Straddle me,” he pants, his greedy fingertips digging into the denim of your jeans. 

“What? How?” you whisper, feeling almost lightheaded at the suggestion. 

“Just- erm… jump, I’ll catch you, yeah?” 

You just laugh, shaking your head with a bit of uncertainty, but Matty seems anything but uncertain. He stares back at you with determined eyes, his hands twitching like they’re ready to hold your weight up at any moment. With nothing to lose (except your tailbone in one piece), you jump and wrap your legs around Matty’s slender hips with a squeak. His eyes go wide as he wobbles slightly, but his hands firmly grasp your thighs to keep you upright, seeming absolutely petrified at the idea of dropping you. Your eyes lock and you share a triumphant, breathy laugh while you place your hands around his neck, Matty beaming at you boyishly. 

Heat prickles at your cheeks as you realize just how much more distinctly you can feel him through his skinny jeans in this position. Experimentally, you rock your hips forward, relishing in the way Matty’s mouth drops with a gasp, his brows drawing together tightly. His head bows forward, his forehead dropping to your shoulder with a resounding “fuck”, the pressure in his pants only getting achier. You can feel him twitch beneath the measly layers of fabric. 

Within only seconds, you’re both eagerly moving against each other, gasping as the heat between you gets more intense with every needy roll of your hips. Matty whines, his face buried in the crook of your neck amidst the frenzied chase for sensation, he could swear he’s never been so hot and bothered. Neither of you is thinking, you let your bodies speak everything your hazy minds could never express. You’ve never felt so insatiable in your whole life. Hot, liquid need is corroding you, it’s building to new heights, it’s–

 Suddenly, Matty’s whole body tenses against you, a strangled noise tearing through him that sparks a flutter between your thighs. He presses his hips forward hard as if trying to pin you against the door with his body so tightly that you wouldn’t move, his blunt fingernails biting into your skin through your pants. Your eyes go wide at the way your boyfriend has just about seized up, your body going stagnant against his.

“Wait-wait, fuck, just slow down a second, I-I’m actually gonna cum in my pants if you keep doing that. Fucking hell,” he rambles, barely able to get the words out as he gasps for breath, utterly flushed.

The revelation washes over you like an electrifying wave, your lips parting with surprise. The knowledge that he’d almost creamed his skinny jeans just from some kissing and grinding makes you feel almost… powerful. Pride warmly simmers in your chest as you gently pet his hair, watching him with a bit of fascination.

Matty desperately clutches at your thighs, his breath hot and heavy against your neck as he wills his body to get back under his control. He’s internally cursing himself for getting so carried away, almost letting this end before it had even begun. He mutters out a breathless apology, his soft lips grazing your skin. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t suppressing a giggle at the moment, forcing your lips not to crack with a smile. 

“Fuck me! You’re a menace,” Matty groans, biting at your shoulder in retaliation. 

“What is wrong with you!?” you protest, giggling as he lightly sinks his teeth into your skin, grinning while he does it. You’d argue that if anyone’s a menace, it’s him. 

He soothes over the mark he left with his tongue, finally loosening his vice grip on your legs now that he’s not seconds away from embarrassing himself. Matty lifts his head up, gently pressing his forehead to yours, gazing at you quietly while you toy with his hair, rendering his brain practically useless with how nice it feels. His eyes are searching yours, staring back at you with pupils so blown, his eyes look almost black.

“Do you wanna go up to your room?” you whisper, the implications making Matty’s breath catch in his throat.

He doesn’t even let the question hang in the air for an entire second before he replies, practically tripping over his words. “Yeah. Yes, absolutely,” he says, his voice cracking slightly as he tries to contain his excitement. 

You smile at him, ruffling his hair just to watch him keen into your palm. Matty slowly eases you back down onto your wobbly legs. He snickers at the way your knees buckle slightly, earning him a smack on the arm as you start to chase him up the stairs, bounding your way to his bedroom as fast as your legs can carry you while his loud laugh echoes through the empty house. 

Once you reach his door, Matty insists that you let him go inside first to set things up. You snort at the way he opens the door just wide enough for him to shimmy through the slim crack, not wanting you to see his room unprepared. You shake your head at his pure, unbridled dorkiness, but really, you can’t ignore the way it affects you to know how much he cares. Many boys your age would have already finished up with you in their dingy room after a sloppy affair of shallow thrusts and a faked orgasm on a bed with no sheets. 

What you can’t see beyond the door is Matty fishing in his pockets for his lighter after setting out candles he’s “borrowed” from his mother’s bathroom. He’d picked up a few small, unscented candles from the ledge of her bathtub, wrinkling his nose at the intense, unsexy aroma of jasmine and mahogany ones they were surrounded by. Matty carefully lights each of the scattered candles, trying his hardest to control the slight nervous quiver in his hands. He nods, satisfied at the way the amber glow hazily paints his walls (girls dig stuff like that, right?). 

He watched the gentle flickering of the flames for a moment, making sure nothing was going to catch fire before he moved to his next task, reaching into one of his cluttered drawers for a CD he’d burned for the occasion. He thought it’d be far too cliche to actually write “sex playlist” on the disc, instead opting for the more tasteful scribble of your initials put together. He’d spent hours trying to compile the perfect list of songs to soundtrack an intimate moment, getting a little lost in imagining how your gasps of pleasure would intertwine with the music.

Matty grins to himself as he glances around the room, everything set in place how he’d imagined it, perfectly organized teenage boy chaos. He’d even made his bed for once, flannel sheets tucked back and smoothed the best that he could.

Just as he was about to open the door, a particular piece of wall decor caught his eye: a magazine cutout of a topless model glaring from the corner of his room. He gives the nameless model a once-over, hesitating for a moment before crossing the room and tearing it off of the wall, the scotch tape flaking away bits of paint. It felt cool at the time, very cool. But now he’s pretty sure he’d rather fling himself from the window than let you see it, god forbid compare yourself to it. 

A soft grunge song plays quietly in the background as Matty swings the door open, arching his eyebrows at you boyishly. You roll your eyes and push past him, admiring how unusually in order his bedroom is, grateful to not be slipping on a t-shirt strewn on the floor as you cross the room to his bed. As you take a seat on the edge of it, Matty trails behind you, watching with a love-struck, dorky smile pulling at his lips. He almost trips over his feet to sit down next to you when you motion for him to come, curling a finger in his direction. Matty kicks off his beat-up sneakers and slips his graphic t-shirt over his head on the way, revealing his lean torso. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same giddiness bubbling inside you, unable to suppress a fond smile as the bed dips under his weight. 

“Cute candles,” you whisper, drawing him closer, “are they for me?” “Nah, I have them out all the time. It’s kinda a new thing I’m–”

You stop him mid sarcastic quip by pressing your lips to his (with no protests from Matty). Between exchanges of sweet kisses, Matty reaches out for the hem of your shirt, his eyes searching your face as he waits for your permission, his breath bated. You nod at him, watching as he shudders with excitement, bursting at the seams. He pulls the fabric upwards while biting his lower lip raw, ogling you as more and more of your soft skin is exposed to him. 

Matty’s eyes nearly pop out of his head as he spots the lace of your bra, revealed to match your panties as you squirm out of your jeans, letting them crumple to the floor in a heap. He swiftly lifts your shirt the rest of the way off, carelessly tossing it over his shoulder. His Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. 

His brain might as well be short-circuiting, his hands frozen in place, hovering by your sides as he shamelessly stares at the way your breasts look, snug in the intricately patterned lace, the heart locket he’d saved up to get you for your birthday sitting perfectly between them. Your heart thrums against your ribs as you watch his hungry eyes rove over you, heat simmering at your cheeks as you wait for him to do something, anything. The silence from the normally motor-mouthed boy feels like somewhat of an accomplishment. 

Slowly, a pleased smile spreads across Matty’s face, one of his hands gingerly moving to trace a single finger across the lace of your bra, delicately running over the cups with pure awe written all over his face. 

“Oh my god… did you get this for me? Shit, that’s so mint,” he beams, his eyes twinkling. 

“Please don’t say “That’s so mint” when we’re about to have sex.” 

Matty’s eyes flicker up to your face with a start, his thick eyebrows shooting upwards as if he’d just realized the words that had come out of his mouth, his hand pausing its gentle exploration. 

“Erm, right. I meant incredibly hot and sexy and beautiful and hot. Yeah. Did I mention hot already?” he clarifies, smiling sheepishly, “Can I touch more?”

You let out an amused exhale through your nose before permitting him, watching his pretty eyes light up. When you’d bought the set at the mall, you imagined his hands would be all over you, tearing it off like gift wrapping the first chance he got. A beautiful first impression left forgotten on the floor of his bedroom. But he doesn’t. Matty carefully brings his palms to your breasts, his breath hitching as he cups them, feeling their weight. Experimentally, he gives them a squeeze, a shudder running through his lanky body. He smiles up at you giddily, his cheeks flushed as he looks at you like you’re nothing less than his entire world. 

“Can… can I kiss them, too?” he whispers tentatively. 

A soft pant is stolen from your lips at the question. Wordlessly you bring your hand to the back of his head, your fingers entangling in his hair as you guide him forward. Matty’s eyes swim with wonderment as he brings his mouth to the swell of your breast in a tender kiss. He moans softly, lashes fluttering as he trails his lips along the edge of the lace, mouthing a slow line up to the satin strap as his hands continue to knead your chest. 

A slight smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he sees the blissful look on your face, quickly wiped away as you gently tug on the strands of hair caught between your fingers. Matty’s eyebrows draw together, running his tongue over his plush bottom lip before he dips his head down to the valley between your breasts, pressing a kiss to your gold locket. Somehow, it feels even more intimate than his lips on your skin. 

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispers against the pendant. 

Matty’s nimble fingers snake up your back, feeling over the warmth of your skin almost with reverence. He leans his cheek against the softness of your chest, nuzzling his face into you as his hands work to undo the hooks of your bra. You feel him blindly fumbling with the band for a few moments before it comes loose, allowing him to fully trace his fingertips down the expanse of your spine. 

Slowly, Matty eases you backward, laying you down onto his sheets with such gentleness that your heart aches, the straps of your bra sliding down your arms at gravity’s manipulation. He slots himself between your legs, his slim hips settling against yours before finally allowing his gaze to drop to your bare chest, sucking in a sharp breath. You feel him twitch against your thigh through his skin-tight pants as he breathes out something strained and incoherent.

Matty begins to lean down, in turn accidentally pulling on your hair that’s trapped under his palm. You jolt, quickly reaching to grab his wrist with a hiss. He freezes above you for a split second before pulling away, staring down at his hand like he’d been seared. He looks absolutely petrified as he glances back at you, apologies spilling from his lips like opened floodgates, asking if you’re alright. You can’t help but giggle at the pure horror on his face as if he’d ripped out a section of your hair.

“Matty,” you whisper, smiling warmly as you reach and cup his face, running your thumbs over his burning cheeks, “it’s okay, I’m fine!”

You watch the tension slowly melt away from his rigid posture as he nods slowly, a sheepish smile pulling at his lips. It isn’t long before he’s giggling along with you, leaning his forehead against yours as you laugh, Matty’s music playing quietly in the background.

“You’re… so perfect,” he murmurs in between laughter, his breathless giggles making his tone sound giddy, “I mean that… you’re just so-” he doesn’t finish as he dives forwards, silencing himself by pressing his lips against yours.

You’re both smiling into the kiss, barely able to move your lips because of the way you’re grinning, ending up bumping teeth more than making out. Matty’s hands envelop your breasts, gently thumbing over your pebbling nipples, making you sigh into his mouth happily. He groans against your lips, the heat between you spiking again and he pulls away just enough to speak, his lips brushing against yours as he continues to flick his thumbs. 

“Fuck. Can I finger you? Really want to make you cum,” he murmurs, his eyes darting over your face.

Your eyes widen at his blunt question, heat flushing through your body as your breath gets stuck in your throat. How can he just say that so casually?

“Christ, Matty!” you whisper-shout, your fingers tensing at the sides of his face.

He tilts his head at you, blinking much like a clueless puppy, clearly not having a grasp of the nuances of subtle dirty talk. Though he certainly hadn’t spun his words with any flowery language, there was something about his lack of finesse that was… a little hot. He was saying exactly what he was thinking, and you suppose that rawness has its own kind of appeal. 

“Is… is that a no?” he frowns, tilting his chin down dejectedly as he looks up at you through his lashes, his hands slowing to a stop.

“No– no babe,” you answer quickly resuming the gentle running of your thumbs over his flushed cheeks with a breathless laugh, “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?”

You realize that you don’t have much of an answer for him, not when he’s looking at you with such sweetness, such eagerness to make you feel good. You shake your head softly, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose, causing his face to scrunch up with a chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“Yes, you can touch me,” you whisper, watching a slow grin spread across his lips. 

Matty places a quick kiss on your lips before sitting up to slowly hook his fingers into the waistband of your panties, gently tugging them down your legs with the aid of you lifting your hips off of the mattress. He sucks in a breath as you slowly spread your legs for him, a burning feeling swelling inside you as you let yourself be exposed to him, to anyone, for the first time. Insecurity rattles in your head and gnaws at your insides, but when you see the look on your boyfriend’s face, the whole world stops.

Matty lays on his side next to you, his hand coming to your inner thigh as he gently strokes his thumb over your soft skin, eyes unable to stay in one place as he gawks at the sight of you naked in his bed. His girl. In his bed. No clothes. He’s not entirely sure that he’s not dreaming. 

Tentatively, Matty allows his hand to skim up your thigh, swallowing hard as he feels more of the heat emanating from between your legs the higher he goes. You force yourself to keep breathing, watching his trembling hand as he musters up the courage to cup your heat, listening to his gasp as he feels the slickness at his calloused fingertips. Tingling sensations flood your senses at the contact, a throb resounding between your legs at the uproar of unfamiliar feelings. You’re hyperaware of each of his fingers as you feel him experimentally dip them into your pooling arousal, the sight of Matty’s hand between your thighs alone is enough to make your face burn, your heart race. 

“You’re so wet,” he whispers, the word “wet” coming out like a secret just between the two of you.

Matty glances up at your face, watching your expression carefully as he slowly begins to move his fingers, sliding them back and forth through the wetness, feeling your honeyed folds spread under the gentle pressure of his fingertips. You meet his gaze as your lips part with a shaky breath, his pupils blown wide as he continues his exploratory grazes. 

With his slick middle finger, he feels over you till he finds your slit, slowly pushing inside of you. Matty moans lowly as if he’s the one being pleasured, his gaze transfixed on the sight of his single finger sinking into you, easily being taken into your tight warmth until he’s knuckle deep. His hips instinctively jerk forward, rutting his clothed erection against your leg as you share a mirrored, shuddering exhale. Matty’s fingers feel starkly different than your own, they’re thicker, and longer, with guitar calluses at each of his fingertips that graze your velvety walls. 

The sensation feels foreign, but not uncomfortable as he begins to gradually pump the digit in and out of you, the both of you watching his maneuvers with widened eyes. He doesn’t have much rhythm, but he’s trying his best to learn as he goes. And god… the look on his face. He’s eager, so eager. 

“Is- is this good?” he asks hesitantly, his eyes searching your expression for approval.

You bite your lower lip, not fully knowing how to walk the fine line between guiding him and embarrassing him. The feeling of his finger inside you is enough to make you pant, to make heat stir inside you, but certainly not enough to make you cum. “It’s good, babe. But, what feels really good is when you touch…” you whisper, beginning to gently guide his thumb to your aching clit, “Here.”

Matty’s lips part with an “oh”, his cheeks flushing slightly at your correction. He allows you to direct his hand, lightly brushing his thumb over the swollen bundle of nerves with gentle uncertainty. You jolt slightly at the fizzling spark of pleasure that courses through you. That’s much… much better. 

You feel Matty shudder as you place your fingers over his thumb, pressing the digit down more firmly as you guide him to move in slow, tight circles in tandem with the pumping of his middle finger. Sighing out, you begin to roll your hips against his hand in search of more friction. You can feel Matty’s stare burning into you even as your eyes squeeze shut, the boy focusing so intensely on your every reaction to gauge if he’s doing a good job. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asks, sinking a second finger inside you as he lets you puppeteer his hand, studying your face.

“Yes… yes,” you gasp, your lashes fluttering as the heat and tension whirl, coiling tighter in your belly. 

“You sound so pretty,” he murmurs breathlessly, looking like he wants to bottle up all the noises you make and keep them for himself, “Can I try on my own?”

Your eyes flutter open hazily, catching sight of his flushed features, his widened eyes. You nod at him, slowly pulling your hand back and resting it on your stomach. Matty bites his lip with concentration, doing his best to mimic what you’d shown him. Silently, he promises himself that one day this will all be muscle memory and he’ll know how to effortlessly make you feel good whenever you want him to, be at your beck and call.

His thumb works against you diligently, drawing those same tight circles as you’d shown him while he continues to work you open with his fingers. He’s so entirely focused and excited that absolutely nothing else matters at this moment except making you fall apart and finding out what you look like when totally lost in pleasure. Will you call out his name like you do in his daydreams? 

“Matty… breathe,” you remind him, smiling fondly at your hell-bent boy. 

Matty blinks up at you, his ministrations faltering for a moment before he lets out a breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding. A bashful smile twitches at the corner of his kiss-bitten lips. 

“Right, right… can’t make a girl finish if you’re passed out,” he murmurs, leaning to kiss the top of your breast sweetly.

Matty suddenly curls his fingers inside you, crooking them forward just in time for them to catch against your sweet spot. Instantly, you mewl and rock into his hand a little harder. He shudders as he feels your walls clench around his digits, imagining what that would feel like around his– he shakes his head quickly, trying not to get ahead of himself. 

“Here? Right here?” he gasps, watching in awe as your expression twists with bliss.

You nod frantically, your eyes squeezing shut again as the sensations begin to crowd you in the best way possible. You feel it throbbing, reverberating between your thighs, threatening to crash over you with every thrust of his fingers, every swipe of his thumb. It’s not perfect, but what he lacks in skill, he makes up for with pure determination.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, Matty. Keep doing it just like that,” you beg, chest heaving.

“Fuck…” he mutters, grinding himself against your leg a little more heedlessly as he does just that, making sure not to let his eagerness get the best of him. 

You reach down to grip Matty’s wrist in warning as the tension inside you crescendos, knowing you’re only moments away from tipping over that familiar edge that you’ve only ever known in the privacy of your own room. Your head lolls back against the pillows as the rocking of your hips becomes more frantic. 

“Please… please…” he whispers, his gaze intense, “Please, I n-need you to…”

“Matty, I-” you pant, your eyes rolling back before your orgasm crashes over you in a wave of release. 

Your mouth parts with a silent cry as your body tenses, back arching off of his bed as you feel your walls spasming around his fingers. Your nails are digging into his wrist as you begin to pant with breathy whines, riding out your orgasm against his eager hand. Pure satisfaction washes over your body as your lovely boyfriend watches in complete and total awe, continuing to aid you through your climax, wanting you to feel every drop of pleasure he could possibly offer you. 

Matty whimpers as he watches you fall apart for him, his free hand snaking down to the front of his jeans to grasp himself for any kind of relief, his erection aching so badly that it’s starting to hurt. He’s almost lightheaded as he watches you thrash, thinking to himself that this might be the most beautiful that he’s ever seen you, which is a tough battle to win considering that he thinks you look beautiful all the damn time. But this? You at your rawest, at your most vulnerable? Yeah, he’s going to need a minute to recover because there’s an actual angel in his bed with him. 

You grit your teeth as the sensitivity starts to overwhelm you, pulling Matty’s hand out from between your thighs with a whimper before going limp against the pillows. You can’t help but smile, chest heaving and skin glowing with sweat while Matty stares down at his fingers in disbelief at the glinting arousal coating them. Without thinking, he brings them to his mouth, sucking and lapping up the sweetness to savor the taste of your pleasure. The sight makes you blush to your very roots. 

“That was… that was so fucking hot, oh god, when can we do that again?” he mumbles around his fingers. 

After releasing his digits with a wet pop, he scrambles to sit up and get out of his jeans, unable to take it any longer. Matty sighs with relief as he starts to wiggle out of his jeans, the fabric feeling so tight and constricting at his crotch that he thought the zipper might pop off. You watch, amused as he grunts and struggles to get out of his skinny jeans that are likely a size too small. 

The moment they’re off, he’s flinging them across the room and crashing his lips to yours in a messy, blissful tangle of teeth and tongues. Matty licks into your mouth with heated desperation, not even letting you get a word in as you come down from your high. 

“I want to fuck you so bad, I-I think about it all the time,” he mumbles against your lips, cupping your face with trembling hands, “please, please can I be inside you?”

Your mind is still spinning as you quickly nod, barely recovered but still ready for more, for all of him. Your fingers reach for your locket, toying with it, feeling the engraved swirls etched beneath your fingertips. 

“Do you have a…?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah. Hold on.”

Matty moves faster than he ever has in his whole life as he gets up and rummages around in his closet for the box of condoms he’d stashed away. He’d bought them earlier that week at the corner store while his mates snickered behind him (“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I don’t see you wankers getting any!”, he’d sneered, sticking out his tongue petulantly). He plops down onto the bed next to you while ripping open the rather large box, your eyes widening as you catch the number “50” printed on the side of it.

“Christ! Why do you have so many?” you gape, doing a double take as you make sure you’ve read it correctly.

Matty shrugs, pulling out a comically long string of silver packets from the box before setting it aside, eyeing them as they glint under the low lighting. It looks like a goddamn party streamer. “What? Gotta be safe, yeah?” 

“You’re not going to break 49 condoms.” 

“I dunno, babe! Maybe I’m a fuckin’ animal and we’ll go 50 rounds, no breaks.” 

You roll your eyes with a snort, giving his shoulder a playful shove as he grins at you toothily. 

“You’re so ridiculous, oh my god.” 

“Nah, but really, they won’t go to waste. I promise you that, babe,” he smirks, waggling his eyebrows as he waves the string of condoms in front of your face teasingly. 

He’s an idiot. However, the idea of using up all of those condoms together makes you a little dizzy, heat sparking through your veins at the thought. You reach out and snatch the packets from him, laying the strand across your chest like a ribbon while you tear one off. You stare up into his eyes, blinking at him prettily as you place the wrapper in your teeth, holding it there with a flair of sensuality. This feeling, the one that makes you feel like you’re desirable, sexual, is one you could damn well get used to. 

Matty’s mouth waters, almost drooling at the sight of what must be every teenage boy’s most depraved daydream: a vixen sent to devour him whole. He wants to burn the sight into his memory forever, his stomach twisting in a tangle of arousal as your lips curl seductively around the foil. He can already envision how this memory will play inside his mind on a loop when he’s alone in his bed.

“You’re going to kill me,” he accuses, shakily taking the wrapper from between your teeth.

You just smile, watching as he fumbles with the foil for a moment before tearing it open, sitting back on his heels as he slides his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers. You allow your gaze to skim down the light spattering of dark hair from his navel to the bulge in his underwear, licking your lips as you eye the sizeable pool of precum that’s soaked into the fabric. Matty glances away, awkwardly clearing his throat as he begins to ease the elastic down his slim hips, kicking his boxers off once they reach his ankles.

Your heartbeat feels as though it’s hammering in your ears as you take in the sight of him, a rush of heat making your hips squirm involuntarily. He’s beautiful and he doesn’t even know it. You want to kiss and bite every inch of his scrawny body. You want to taste his pale skin. You want to feel him, real and warm under your fingertips as they dig into him. But more than anything, you need him inside you. 

Matty lets out a breathy groan as he strokes himself slowly, gathering the precum bubbling at his tip before dragging it downwards with a shudder. He slowly rolls the condom down onto himself, feeling over the latex to make sure it’s secure before glancing up at you, his cheeks a shade of bright pink as he notices your intense stare. 

Your boyfriend settles himself between your legs, gingerly spreading them so he fits above you, his arms on either side of your head, his Mortal Kombat tattoo inches from your face. You reach upwards with an uneven exhale, placing your hands on his chest which rises and falls with shallow breaths. His cock brushes against your inner thigh. Matty looks like he might combust. 

“You’re sure about this?” he whispers, his breath bated. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, anticipation wrapping her hands around your throat. You want him more than anything. 

“I’m sure… please, Matty,” you say softly, rubbing your thumbs over his collarbones. 

“If it hurts or you wanna stop, you tell me. I-I don’t give a fuck if I’m literally about to cum, you just shout at me or something, alright?” he rambles, using one of his hands framing your face to gently tuck your hair behind your ear. 

“Okay,” you whisper, managing a slightly nervous smile. 

Matty swallows hard, bringing one hand down to his length, guiding it forward till his tip meets your slicked center. You both shiver as he begins to run himself back and forth against you, the realization that you’re about to lose your virginity seeming to hit you both all at once. He shoots you a jittery look, searching your eyes for any sense of regret or discomfort. When he finds none, he begins to carefully line himself up with you, firmly gripping himself to avoid the embarrassment of missing. 

“I’m going to… yeah,” he mumbles. The pinnacle of eloquence. 

Your breath catches in your throat as he begins to push his hips forward, feeling your velvety walls stretch to accommodate him. Matty’s face screws up as he feels your warmth enveloping him bit by bit, panting softly as he experiences an overwhelming tightness around his cock that his own hand could never offer. He makes a choked noise, internally reminding himself that he needs to last long and do a good job for you, to not cum the second he’s inside. 

“F-fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” he mutters, his teeth gritting as he tries not to completely lose his goddamn mind. 

 You hiss at the intrusion as he slowly inches inside you, the unfamiliar feeling being somewhat like getting split open. Almost involuntarily, you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with a comforting squeeze. Matty pauses, his eyes blinking open, flashing with affection as he squeezes your hand back, finding solace in the familiarity and simplicity of your touch. You nod at him softly, running your thumb over his knuckles as you breathe through this initial, slight discomfort. His eyes are lidded as he watches your expression closely, wanting to kiss away the bit of tension on your features. 

“You’re so tight… so fucking– oh fuck,” he babbles, brows knitting together as he continues sliding inside of you, trembling. 

He can’t seem to stop rambling and cursing, squeezing your hand a little tighter before finally reaching his hilt, filling you entirely as your hips meet. Matty’s head dips forward with a deep groan, feeling himself pulse inside you. He didn’t immediately cum the moment he was fully inside you, which he considered to be a win at the moment considering how fucking incredible this feels. 

“Feels so fucking good… oh my god- oh my god, you feel so good…” he rambles breathlessly, his hand wrapped tightly around yours.

You breathe deeply, the stretch creating a low, simmering feeling in your walls as you try to fully relax and adjust. Matty gazes down at you adoringly, panting as he clenches every muscle in his body to try and stave off his already impending orgasm. The urge to move and thrust and fuck is urgent, but he forces himself to stay still, needing to make sure you’re comfortable. 

 “Baby, are you okay?” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead, quivering from his head to his toes, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

“I’m good, love. Are you okay?” you giggle, raising your eyebrows at him.

“I’m… I’m– yeah. Best. Best ever. You feel amazing, you’re amazing,” he grins, laughing breathlessly.

Matty feels like he’s drunk, intoxicated by everything about you. The way you look, the way you feel. Oh god. He’s never felt so good in his life. You’re just as bad, smiling up at him like he’s given you not only the moon but also all of the stars. Joined at the hips, intertwined at the soul. 

“You can move,” you whisper, the tinge of burning fading into something warm, something to thirst for. 

He nods above you, squeezing your hand like making a promise: I’ll take care of you. He begins to slowly, almost delicately roll his hips against you, the movement making you gasp for breath, gripping his shoulder tighter. Matty’s lashes flutter as he lets out a whimper, staring down at you with tenderness as he sets a gentle rhythm, allowing the both of you to ease into the deep intimacy. It’s almost an out-of-body experience for Matty, watching you below him, his hazy vision creating a sort of aura around you.

“You’re… you’re doing so good. You look so pretty. Made for me,” he gasps, barely stringing together coherent sentences between rocks of his hips. 

Matty’s thrusts are shallow despite how restless he’s growing, practically overheating above you. He continues to murmur about how good and tight you feel, the praise spilling from his lips without much thought, simply pouring from his lungs as he gets lost in the overpowering feeling of you. 

“Ohh, fuck,” you murmur, a spike of heat rushing straight to your cunt, clenching around him as your nails rake down his back.

Matty’s hips stutter as the breath is stolen from his lungs, almost making a wheezing sound at the back of his throat. His skin erupts with goosebumps under your touch, your nails leaving a pleasurable sting in their wake. He gathers himself enough to speak. “Holy shit. C-can you do that again?” he stammers, feeling like every nerve of his body is firing at once.

A hazy smile spreads across your lips as you clench around him again, feeling him twitch within your taut walls. Matty doesn’t just moan, he whines at the feeling, involuntarily bucking into you with more force, driving his cock deeper inside you. You pant at the entirely new feeling, your body lighting up with crackling sparks. Suddenly, the gingerly pace he’d set wasn’t nearly enough as liquid need fizzles in your bones. 

“Matty… more,” you moan, your eyes shining.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His eyes nearly roll back at every noise he pulls from you, the sounds only spurning him on further, driving his body forward into yours harder, faster. His head drops forward to your neck, burying his face there as he pants raggedly against your skin.

What had started out as gentle, loving gazes and polite rolls of hips has quickly become somewhat of a frenzy. The two of you hold each other close as you buck and rock and sweat, needing to help each other see stars to the sound of the bed's creeks. Matty shakes like a leaf as you wrap your legs around his pretty waist, drawing him in deeper. Before you can process it, he’s snaking his hand down between your glowing bodies to hastily swipe at your clit with his fingertips. You cry out as the pleasure courses through you, building even faster than before, rendering your brain fuzzy and wonderfully useless as you rock to meet his pistoning hips. The sound of skin on skin makes your face burn. 

“Please, please, love. I-I need– need to-” he babbles pathetically, desperation radiating off of him, “I-I’m not gonna last,” he shudders, a lilt of panic in his tone.

“It’s okay,” you pant, digging your nails into his back to make him groan, “Let it feel good, baby.”

Matty whines pitifully, his hips losing their rhythm entirely as he begins to thrust as quickly and frantically as he can, continuing to rub at your oversensitive bundle of nerves, setting a growing fire beneath your skin. “Y-yeah feels so good. So good,” he nods.

“Close, Matty,” you gasp, your back arching off of the plaid sheets as the flames curl and lick inside you. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna– gonna–” 

Matty can’t even finish his sentence, biting down on your shoulder as his body goes completely stiff for a moment, his hand clutching at yours even tighter before he shudders with his release, spilling into the condom. You follow closely on his heels into the depths of pleasure, trembling as your eyes roll back in your head, your walls spasming around Matty as he pulses inside of you. His head stays buried in the crook of your neck as he moans wantonly against your skin, his hips sporadically jerking against you as you both get lost in pleasure so great, you’re not sure how you ever went without it. 

The only sound that can be heard in Matty’s bedroom is heavy breathing. He stays collapsed on top of you, your legs dangling lazily over his hips as you hold each other, fingers still interlocked. Neither of you has said a word yet as you simply bask in the afterglow. 

Afterglow. You realize why it’s called that now. It feels like you’re shining from the inside out and you swear you can see the same light within him as you run your fingers through his damp hair. And in this moment, you and your boy are untouchable, nothing can reach you when he’s holding you this way. 

“I love you…” 

The words are faint, they ring hazily through your head, and for a moment you’re not sure if they were imagined. But he says it again, quietly, delicately, to be absorbed. 

“I love you.”

Your chest swells with warmth, it spreads from your heart to your fingertips and beyond. You swallow the lump in your throat, a grin spreading across your face so wide you think you might crack. 

“I love you too, Matty.”

Slowly, he lifts his head from where it rests, his eyes misty as he meets your gaze. He sniffles, rubbing his thumb against your hand with sweetness, the both of you acutely aware of how you’re still intertwined. 

“Oh god,” he mumbles, embarrassed as he rubs at his eyes. 

You coo at him, tucking some of his hair behind his ear before leaning in to tenderly peck his lips. You simply gaze into each other’s eyes, realizing how badly you want this to last. To beat the odds of young lovers. To scream in the face of getting older, of growing apart. But right now, this is enough. 

“I love you so much,” he whispers again, smiling like he’s trying out the words on his tongue, giddy at the way it feels.

This is more than enough. 

[alovesreading]

Chicken Shop Date | Part 10

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

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

Word Count: 43.3k

A/N: Well hello everyone! We are back... kind of. It's been over a year (a year and eight days to be exact) since the last chapter we posted of this story, but most importantly, today marks exactly two years since we first posted this fic and we wanted to celebrate by posting the very last chapter. This is a bittersweet moment because we did start this one thinking it would be two parts long, at most, yet here we are. We are so baffled by how big this story became, but so incredibly grateful for your support, love, and your endless patience with us. N and I are sending yous all the love. We're gonna let you enjoy every bit of this chapter, and well, I guess we'll see you on the epilogue!

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |

| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |

~*~*~*~ 25th February 2023 ~*~*~*~

"So sorry we're late. We're finally here." You unlock the door to your Mum and Dad's house with Matty in tow.

The only thing that's gone right on your trip here is that you both made it into the car and you both had the bright idea of getting ready for your family party before you set off. Other than that, it's been a bit of a mess.

First, after 5 minutes of driving away from Matty's house, you both forgot your bags which you packed for the next few days of your stay at your parents so you had to go back to grab them. Then you kept on getting every red light you came across, followed by a standstill on the motorway which was 45 minutes of you and Matty singing 2000s bangers interrupted by each of you occasionally complaining about how long you'd been waiting in traffic.

Needless to say, parking up at your parents house was just that bit of comfort you needed after a shit journey. Though by the slight bit of worry you can detect on Matty's face you feel that he may not be quite as comforted as this is the first time he's meeting your parents.

He's only briefly caught your Mum on FaceTime before now and it was just a quick conversation that you cut short because your Mum was about to embarrass you. But he's yet to meet your dad and you know he's nervous despite him having no reason to be.

"You're fine, it's better if we're fashionably late anyway. Come in, come in." You Mum shouts as she rushes to the door and practically all but shoves you out of the way after giving you possibly the quickest hug and peck to the cheek. Clearly, her eyes are set on a certain someone else. 

Your boyfriend manages to get his greeting in there first once you step to the side to watch the encounter. Matty smiles brightly, putting your bags down in the hall as he says, "Hey, so so nice to finally meet you."

"Matty," Your Mum's grin is huge as she welcomes him with open arms, "So lovely to meet you properly."

Being the teddy bear that he is, Matty isn't phased by the hug in the slightest and he happily returns it, giving your Mum a tight squeeze as if relishing in the hug of another mother figure. It seems your Mum's grin is infectious because Matty's is now just as big as he tells her, "So lovely to meet you in person. FaceTime isn't the same. You're even more gorgeous in real life."

Your Mum starts laughing as they release each other from the embrace. "Flattery gets you everywhere in this house, you're going to fit right in." She pulls your boyfriend inside, like he isn't being dragged when she says, "Please come in."

Matty smiles at you on his way in, clearly having calmed down a little after realising you weren't lying when you said that your Mum was lovely. You adore him for being nervous though, God knows if you weren't badly jet lagged and emotional the day you met Denise, you would have been just as, if not more worried than when you met Tim.

Your Mum leads Matty straight into the kitchen leaving you to put both your bags at the bottom of the stairs out of the way, and you head to your lounge to see your Dad with a beer already in hand and he's on his feet offering you a hug immediately. There's a gin on the side so it's great to see that they have had pre-drinks while they've been waiting for you to arrive and not sat hating you for being late.

After pleasantries are exchanged and you've given him a hug, he asks you. "Was the trip over okay?"

"Yeah it was good despite the traffic, thank you Dad." You smile, picking up your Mum's gin and smelling it quickly before you have a sip.

Ooooo Parmaviolet gin. Stunning! Putting the glass back down quickly, you nod towards the door and ask your father, "Come meet Matty?"

Your Dad looks entirely too smug as he asks, "Do I pretend like I haven't seen his face on your bedroom wall since you were a teenager?" 

God that's a whole different can of worms you'll have to sort out when you get home later. Take the posters down, number 1 on the priority list. "No, he knows I was a fan. But please don't embarrass me." You all but beg, even showing him some puppy dog eyes as you reiterate, "Please."

"I make no promises." Your Dad smiles teasingly and slight dread seeps into your system.

Even though you're slightly more than half certain he's just trying to wind you up, you say, "Dad." sternly.

Instead of easing your worries, your father just pulls you into another hug, and he kisses the top of your head before saying softly, "Good to have you home."

You're about to tell him you're happy to be back, but before you can your Mum comes into the lounge with your boyfriend in tow. Immediately a smile finds its way to your lips, just because you can see his gorgeous face again but also because he's clearly made friends with your Mum already as he's got one of her precious gin glasses in hand which means he's already won her over. You're lucky if you even get one of those crystal gin glasses.

Your boyfriend's grin only gets bigger when he properly greets your Dad, offering him a handshake. As your father takes his hand, he asks knowingly, "Did she make you drive Matty?"

"No, I offered," Matty chuckles a little before he explains, "And I've not insured her on my car yet... But when I do that, I'll make sure she drives next time."

Matty glances at you all amused because you've told him in the past how you're not too confident about driving around central London which is why you don't have a car at your flat. The little bitch just likes teasing you about it, and from this alone you know him and your Dad will get on just fine because your Dad's made the same joke in the past.

"Good man." Your father chuckles, "Nice to meet you."

After introductions are out of the way and you're all settled with drinks in hand, Matty seems to relax right in and you're really pleased because you knew he was nervous to meet your parents even though you told him there was no need to be. Regardless, you're so happy he fits in seamlessly, and is doing God's work by entertaining all of your Mum's silly questions.

But it's when there's a slight lull in conversation that your father takes the opportunity to ask a question you wish never left his lips. Your Dad looks all proud of himself after he takes a sip of beer and asks, "Has my daughter ever told you about the time that she screamed and started crying when you announced you were releasing your second album?"

"Oh my god, STOP!" You yell before hiding yourself in your hands all the while Matty's giggle fills the room.

"Ha, no she hasn't but I'd love to hear all stories like that." You hear your boyfriend say and you're already shaking your head.

"No, you don't." You say sternly, still hiding your now burning face. Your Dad just laughs and ignores you as he tells Matty, "Oh there's hundreds, I'll tell you when she's not here to tell me off."

The whine of pain that leaves your lips has the room laughing, and Matty rubs your back for a second to silently tell you not to be embarrassed. If anything he's grateful for your obsession with his music because it led to him being here with you right now and he wouldn't change that for the world. No matter how obsessed you may be.

You take a second to compose yourself before you uncover your hot face and look directly at the culprit. "Dad," You shoot him a pointed look that both him and your Mum start chuckling at, "Thought I just said don't embarrass me."

"Sorry sweetheart, but I can't promise anything when you bring the man home who we've been shown pictures of since you were a teenager." Your Dad drops you in it again and all you can do is look to the ground and sigh.

"It's going to be a very long night." You mumble before you take a long sip of your gin. And something tells you that you're not going to be wrong.

~*~*~*~

Matty is stiff in his seat next to you in the taxi as you make your way to the venue where your family gathering is. As nerve wracking as it was to meet your parents, he recognises that it's gone well, but the prospect of now going to a place where he's not only going to meet but interact with your entire family for hours, has him shitting bricks.

His breathing becomes shallow as he bounces his knee and fiddles with his fingers, and he doesn't even notice he's doing all that since he's lost staring space. His thoughts are as all over the place as his fidgeting, trying to remember names you've thrown around or little details about your aunties and uncles that he could use to make a good impression.

You're thankful you don't fail to notice his clear signs of restlessness showing through. You almost coo aloud because you find it so adorable that he's this nervous about meeting your family. Maybe you should mention they already adore him because you have never kept your love for the band from them, so basically everyone already knows who he is.

If anyone should be scared of things potentially going against them, it's you who should be worried. God knows all the shit your family could say to him to embarrass you. Your parents have already tried their hand, but you know there's so much more that everyone else could say.

Before you can even begin to make a list of all the possibilities, your hand rests over his restlessly bouncing knee. You gently rub his thigh as you send a smile his way, quietly telling him, "You're going to be fine."

His leg stops moving and though his hands freeze over his lap, his gaze falls on you and you can just read the worry on his face. Bringing a hand up to cup his face, you rub his cheek softly and assure him, "They'll love you."

Just as much as I do, you want to add but you don't think it's the best time to say it. You just hope he can read it in your eyes, because your chest hurts with the amount of love you have for him and it shines on your face when you look at him.

He nods faintly and leans in to steal a quick kiss. "I trust you," he mumbles against your lips before pressing a kiss to your cheek and finally settling in his seat. His fingers intertwined with yours and he squeezes your hand before resting it over his thigh. Looking down at your joined hands makes you sigh in content, and you end up resting your head on his shoulder with the stupidest smile on his face.

Matty lets your warmth calm him down and soon he forgets where you're going for all he can think of is how nice you smell and how soft your skin feels under his calloused fingers, how cute you look in this dress and how he could go an eternity with you pressed against his side like this.

When the car stops, you pick your head up and, just like your parents, thank the driver before exiting the taxi. You turn to look at Matty and see his nerves washing over him again, but you walk up to him and brush his curls back before kissing him softly and quickly in reassurance.

Though it really doesn't help when your dad says, "Come on, let's throw you into the belly of the beast Matty."

Matty chuckles quietly, and though he puts on a cool, unbothered expression, the way he squeezes your hand gives him away. He clears his throat before saying, "You surely can't be all that bad."

Your dad snorts menacingly, knowing exactly what's to be expected on the other side of the door, "You'll be eating your words soon."

If you were close enough to slap your Dad's arm, you would have done but he's already linked your Mum's arm and heads inside. The venue isn't the biggest, but it's on the nice side of town and it's by no means a shithole, so it's perfect for your Auntie's birthday bash.

It's by pure luck that the second you go inside, the first to greet you and your family is your Uncle Darren. He smiles brightly at you when he sees you and Matty holding hands and waiting for him to finish hugging your mum and dad.

He makes a show of letting his gaze fall to your joint hands and then back up to your face so he can give you a wink. You can feel your cheeks heating up at the lack of subtlety from your uncle, and his smirk is huge when he notices you getting flustered at his silent taunting.

His gaze moves to your boyfriend then. Extending his hand out towards Matty, your uncle introduces himself, "You must be Matty. I'm Darren, nice to meet you."

Matty hears you snort beside him but doesn't question it for he shakes your uncle's hand and offers him a sweet smile, "Lovely to meet you. You're Y/N's uncle right?"

"Yes, I'm her favourite," your uncle replies smugly. He looks at you and sees the way you roll your eyes, it has him snorting out a laugh before asking you this time, "How was the drive?"

You give your uncle a little smile seeing the actual care laced around his words, "Yeah it was good, thank you. After the traffic it was good to see home again."

"Ah yes, you went home first..." your uncle says and lets his words drift away into the air, and you can almost see how a lightbulb goes off in his head when he smirks again and looks at Matty to point out, "You got the meeting the parents out of the way first. Good idea. But it's me you have to impress."

You almost laugh when you think you see Matty visibly gulp. But you take pity on him, like he's done with you when meeting his family. Plus, you know your uncle is playing with him. He has known who Matty is for far too long thanks to you being an avid fan of the band, and he's actually hiding how much he enjoys their tunes.

"He's already impressed you with his music, don't act all tough now." You turn to a still nervous Matty and try to ease his worries by saying, "He's a big fan."

That's when it clicks for Matty and he turns back to look at your uncle with a knowing smile growing on his face, "Aren't you uncle Dazza?"

Your uncle gives up his attempts to tease you any further and to act too cool then, he just nods and says, "I quite like Tonight I Wish I Was Your Boy. I love the sample from The Temptations."

You swear you can feel the way Matty relaxes when sensing a bit of familiarity now, and you smile so big when he says, "Thank you. They were twats about that one though. They wanted like ninety seven percent from us to use that."

Your uncle Dazza's eyes widen at the quick fact and you almost laugh at the same time as he says, "Really?"

Matty nods and sighs as if the memory alone gets him annoyed, but then shrugs as he tells, "Yeah we just said fuck it though because it was too good to not to make."

"Well I'm glad you did. Great song," your uncle concludes and it's your loud cackle that makes a bright smile break on his face before he shoves you slightly and tells you to, "Shush." Before you can even start gloating about how you've managed to turn everyone into at least a casual fan of the band, your uncle Dazza sends you over to where your auntie is. 

Your mum and dad have gone ahead and are already talking to her when you get pushed away by your uncle, so you sneak behind her taking Matty right with you and yell, "Happy birthday!" over her shoulder. She lets out a loud gasp when hearing your voice, but a little squeak follows when she sees who's right beside you and holding your hand.

"Oh my god! Is he here to serenade me?" Your Auntie says with so much excitement you think your heart might explode. Matty blushes next to you when you chuckle lightly and your Auntie fans herself as she makes a show of her assumption. "On my birthday, Y/N you shouldn't have."

What you don't expect her to do though, is turn to Matty and rest her hand on his forearm as she says, "My favourite is Antichrist, just so you know." 

You have to swallow the urge to cackle when Matty just frowns deeply at the suggestion. But your auntie still winks at you, knowingly. You can only smile at her, so damn proud that she's done this the second she's met your boyfriend. You have certainly taught her well.

"How'd you..." Matty looks confused for a second before he shakes his head slightly, a smile slowly forming on his lips before he asks, "Surely that's a bit too depressing for a big day like today?"

The silence that follows is loud for a second or two, until your Auntie pouts and looks at you to say, "I tried for you babe."

You halfheartedly sigh in response, "Thanks for trying Auntie Shazza. Stubborn man he is."

Matty can't fight the smile that spreads on his face, and he asks your Auntie in disbelief, "Did she tell you to ask for that?"

Bless your Auntie though, she shrugs and puts on a proud face as she says, "No, I just know things."

Before Matty can say anything else, someone calls out for her and she excuses herself. She gives your boyfriend a smile and you a wink before leaving. You just know that he's about to say something by the way he smirks at you, with that glint in his eye that makes your head run wild but before he can open his mouth, someone interrupts.

"Y/N!" You hear being shouted from across the room and when both you and Matty turn to follow the voice, you all but run at your favourite cousin.

Matty can't help but like your cousin already, just from the smile he simply brought to your face. Matty knows by your reaction alone that it must be Olly, your 'absolute legend of a cousin'. You've been telling Matty about him since you asked if he was free to join you at this party and your boyfriend has been keen to meet him.

"Thank fuck you're finally here." Olly says as he gives you a tight hug which you return. But when he releases you, he pulls back and looks at you accusingly, "You've left me for over an hour being exposed to Satan incarnate."

Matty's confused by this as he watches on expectantly, but by the way the joy of seeing your favourite cousin falls from your face, he knows that whoever you're talking about is not someone you're a fan of. And that's made extremely clear with your reaction that has Matty holding in a laugh.

"She's here?" Your scoff, and when Olly nods entirely unimpressed by the truth, you say with complete conviction, "Great... Was hoping she'd have rode off on her broomstick by now."

Matty thought that his eyes couldn't get any wider hearing that, but then he's sure his eyes budge from his head when Olly tilts his head to the side and so casually says, "Hit by a bus would be better." You snort in laughter at that, and when you turn to Matty so you can introduce him to your favourite cousin you notice just how confused he is. But before you can begin to explain, your boyfriend gets there first.

"Is she Regina George or something?" Matty questions as he looks between the two of you, he has to know, "Why do yous hate her?"

"Oh, you'll find out." You cousin half laughs before stepping towards your boyfriend and introducing himself, "'M Olly, it's nice to meet you mate."

"Matty, nice to meet you," He smiles and shakes your cousin's outstretched hand, "I've heard lots about you."

"Ditto," Olly smirks, "Although, it's usually more about your music than yourself."

The look of utter betrayal on your face is priceless and Matty can't help but laugh. He gives you an amused look but asks with raised eyebrows, "Do you ever stop talking about me?"

You do well holding in your scoff, but it's so worth it when you twist your cousin's words to tease your boyfriend. You give him a knowing look when you say, "Usually to talk about more important matters like Ross or George."

"Nice to know Hann didn't make the cut." Your boyfriend folds his arms almost proudly, taking the small victory where he can. But of course, you're there to shoot him down again.

You narrow your eyes as you backchat, "Only because he's married with a child." Matty gives you a look then that screams carry on and you'll regret it and because you know his punishments will be oh so sweet, all you can do is give him bring it on eyes.

"Careful," Olly brings the both of you out of your little staring match, reminding you of all the other eyes that could be on you, "Lovers quarrel at a family party and you will be the talk of the town for very different reasons than you already are in the family WhatsApp."

You hum, "There's a reason I don't check that chat."

"Well, you'd be pleased to know that Mother Gothel isn't here," Your cousin smiles, but the character name has Matty feeling thankful for whoever hasn't shown up. However, Olly goes on to say, "But Paige only decided to come once she heard that you were coming and bringing Matty."

"Of course." You let out a berated sigh, and Matty finally gets the picture when you say, "But at least her Mum's not here."

Whilst your boyfriend's keen to get the gossip, he can't help but tease you a little, "Wow, I never knew you could be so nasty." The look that you send him is entirely one of amusement but clearly you and your cousin feel very passionately about these two people, because your cousin backs you up completely.

"Believe me, she deserves it." Olly begins to explain everything to your boyfriend. "She thinks she's the big 'I am' because she went to fashion school, but since Chicken Shop Date blew up for Y/N, Paige has been bitter about her getting to go on red carpets and meeting celebs and stuff."

Matty's eyes go wide and when he looks at you for confirmation, you nod a little and then tell him most of the details. You explain how Paige is your Mum's eldest sister's daughter, and Olly is your Mum's little sister's son, and the three of you cousins were all born one year after the other (Paige being the oldest and you the youngest) and how at family get togethers it was always the three of you forced to interact as you grew up.

For as long as you can remember Paige has always been a cow and a snake, and she always picked on you as a kid just because she could and she got away with it most of the time because she was older. Her Mum is just a pretentious cow who in her eyes can see Paige do no wrong and thankfully your awful auntie's sisters dislike her, not just you and Olly. You'll forever be grateful that your Mum and Auntie Sharon had a massive row with their sister one year which meant you saw less and less of that small evil side of your family. But that didn't stop their poisonous comments from getting to you over the last few years.

As you're about to explain all the shit she initially said about Chicken Shop Date and the things you've heard her say about you and Amelia, it seems the bitch has a second sense for her name being uttered. Because speak of the devil and he shall appear, this time in a mini skirt and stilettos.

"Y/N." Paige makes her debut, stalking over to the three of you in her heels which still leaves her shorter than you in your combat boots. "You finally made the effort to show up, how gracious of you."

Taking a second not to immediately bite back at her attempts to rile you, your reply is short and sweet, "Fashionably late, what can we say?"

Olly holds in the chuckle he wants to let out hearing that, and at the way the three of you clock Paige's eyes looking you up and down as if to check for herself. And you can't hold your smirk seeing the light die in her eyes as she realises you're dressed in a Miu Miu forest green knitted dress. And it costs a fuck ton of money, which she's well aware of and can't say shit about.

When her eyes meet yours again, just to subtly fuck with her that bit more, you correct yourself, "You could also call it saving the best till last."

Olly snorts seeing your smirk and immediately throws his hand up to cover his mouth. It takes Matty a lot to not just laugh straight away, but he can't help the smile that's on his face. But seeing Matty's amusement immediately attracts your devil cousin's attention, and she grins then looking directly at your boyfriend. As she does, she also answers your statement nodding to herself, "Oh yes, you really have."

And of course she doesn't mean you. Not with the way she's looking like she wants to eat your boyfriend alive. Looking at Matty up and down in a more suggestive way than you've ever even seen fans do at his gigs, your bitch of a cousin hums to herself, but purposefully loud enough for you to hear over the venue's music, "Oooo, even better in real life."

It takes everything in you not to react. Instead you just smile like you agree, and you take every pleasure in seeing that she's annoyed by not upsetting you. Truly, it baffles you how she's 30 years old and still acts like she's a teenager with a petty feud.

She stretches out her hand as if she wants him to kiss the back of it, "Hi, I'm Paige"

Matty, entirely unimpressed with her behaviour, puts on a smile just to be polite. But he's also mighty confused why she's offered her hand like that but shakes her hand instead, "Hey, y'alright?" And he's never let go of someone's hand faster.

Paige keeps eye fucking your boyfriend and smirks as she glances at you, "I remember what you used to say about him..." immediately Matty turns to look at you with a smirk already lighting up his face, and he thinks she's about to spill some gossip on you, but she just attempts to flirt again, "I can say I agree now, especially about these curls."

Your boyfriend frowns a little at that but he doesn't take his eyes from you, meaning he sees the way your jaw falls slightly at the mere audacity of your family member. He catches the way your jaw clenches ever so slightly before you casually bite back, "Well I don't have to say them anymore, I can just do them."

Paige just chuckles in response and Matty can feel her gaze linger on him as she says, "Good for you." and only because he thinks she's about to catch onto the fact she's not wanted in this conversation anymore, he looks back at her for a second.

But that leads Satan incarnate to tell Matty, "You know it's lucky she got 'famous' too because I fear you would still be her entire personality still now if not."

"Then it's lucky she's entirely my personality now so we balance each other out, don't we baby?" Matty smirks at you, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist and pulling you into him. His eyes barely even leave yours, as if he's totally besotted with you and there's not a party going on around you. And god, you feel the exact same. You could get lost just looking at him again right now, counting all of his cute little freckles, picking out which of his curls is your favourite one today, loving how it's falling.

There's endless things that have you never wanting your eyes to stray from the man you love, but seeing how he's looking at you and feeling how he's holding you like he never wants to take moments together for granted and holding you tightly is something you'll forever cherish. You're itching to tell him you love him, and seeing just how big your smile is, the words almost fall from Mattys lips.

But your cousin ruins the moment. "Oh, you two are already vile." Olly fakes a gag before he moves behind the both of you and forces you apart by hanging an arm over each of your shoulders and pushes you both away from Paige. "Let's do some shots and start the night off with a bang."

"I like your thinking." Matty chuckles and happily lets him be led the way to the bar.

Thankfully Paige doesn't follow you and the three of you manage two shots of tequila each at the bar before you get your drinks. Unsurprisingly, Olly gets whisked away by your Auntie Sharon, wanting to show her son off to her friends and your other family members so you and Matty are left to your own devices for a few minutes.

Or that is until the both of you sit down at an empty table and settle with your drinks. You both let your surroundings sink in, although loud music and a lot of people in a room isn't anything new to either of you now.

Despite you thinking the DJ has opted to play Pitbull a bit earlier in the night than needed considering no one is up dancing yet, the party is in full swing. A lot of your family is here and people you recognise from your Uncle's family who you've met at these parties previously, and you're really happy for your Auntie Sharon's sake that she's had a good turn out and everyone looks like they're enjoying themselves.

A few of your Auntie's friends spot you and they come over for you to introduce them to Matty. You love them nearly but they are a rather nosy bunch - wanting every detail of how you two got together which you give them the PG version of events. Matty came on Chicken Shop Date, there was a spark there despite the filming so another date was arranged, and after your date on New Years you've been together ever since. Absolutely no need for them to know he stayed at your flat twice before your second date and he fucked you dumb after it.

Despite the amount of familiar faces coming up to you and asking about the new man in your life, you can't bring yourself to hate it even if some of them were a bit too invasive. And that's because you catch that glint lighting up Matty's eyes each and every time you call him your boyfriend. It has you wanting everyone to come over so you can show him off to everyone.

Not to mention the way seeing that look in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat. It's getting difficult to keep your mouth shut about how much he means to you now. But you're certainly not going to tell him you love him for the first time at your family party.

You're thinking about just how much you love the man beside you talking to your Aunt's friend when you hear a thunder of little feet coming your way and just as you're about to turn around in your seat, you hear a sweet little voice that you've been missing.

"Auntie Y/N!"

You all but jump from your seat when seeing your favourite little cousin running towards you, "Sammy!" Your arms extend to have him run into them, and when he crashes into you, you let out a groan as you try to pick him off the ground like you always have, "Oh I've missed you cutie!"

You rest the little one on your hip and notice just how much he's grown because you can place a dozen kisses on the 6 year olds head with complete ease now. And once you get your giggle after you pepper him with kisses, you give him a tight squeeze as you say, "But you've grown so much, I can barely pick you up now!"

"I've missed you too!" Little Sam says in your ear, and your heart melts because that's just what you wanted to hear. You give him another big squeeze that he pretends he can't breathe from which makes you laugh as you put him back on the ground.

There's a proud smile on Sam's face and puffs his chest out to say, "I'm quite big now, right?" Your grin gets impossibly big and you nod before accentuating, "Huge!"

It's Matty's little enamoured giggle behind you that catches little Sam's attention, and when he realises where he has seen that face before, the kid is pointing at your boyfriend and outing you in the worst possible way. 

Little Sam gasps, entirely jaw dropped, looking from you to Matty when he all but shouts, "You have pictures of him in your bedroom!" Your jaw falls automatically and Matty's cackle is loud in response. Your mouth moves as you try to say anything back to that but you can't gather any words in your mind in the time it takes Matty to get up and crouch in front of Sam and ask, "Oh does she?"

The little traitor nods enthusiastically, now grinning and continues to expose you, "Yeah and she also has a really big picture of y–" Quickly, you're behind your little cousin covering his mouth with your hand, you manage to interrupt his attempt at ruining your reputation. You crouch down a little to tell Sam, "You've said enough. Where's you Mum and Dad?"

"No, no," Matty now standing just in front of the both of you with a grin on his lips, "Let the kid speak."

You say, your cheeks feeling very hot, "Nope." and you quickly wrap your arms around little Sam and heave him into the air. Secured against you, you turn around and carry him back over to his Mum and Dad leaving Matty cackling behind you.

Unfortunately, the end of your embarrassment never comes because once you've made it back to Matty after handing Sam over to his parents who quickly distracted him, more of your cousins come over to see you. Only after you explain to Matty how the kids are your second cousins do the rest of the little monsters descend.

After exchanging pleasantries with their parents (your Mum and Aunt's' cousins), their little boy Zack - who Matty would guess is about 12 - is left with you for a few minutes, and after you introduce him to Matty, explaining how he's your new boyfriend, Zack looks at you quizzically. The little dirty blond asks you, as he stands between yours and Matty's chair, "Isn't he-" nodding at Matty, "The one in the videos you used to play when you would babysit me?"

You don't think you've ever disliked your cousins until these embarrassing moments. Being entirely stuck for words as Matty laughs at the information your cousin just divulged, it's your boyfriend who raises his eyebrows and says, "Wow, all these rumours are really not helping the cause of you not being obsessed with me."

Immediately you sink back into your seat and huff, "Don't flatter yourself."

"Oh," Matty giggles, "But it's the talk of the town, baby." You're about to lean across and punch his arm, but the child beside you pipes back up, confirming his own suspicions when he asks you, "Is it him?" But when you hesitate in answering, he just turns to your boyfriend, "You sing Chocolate, right?"

"That's me." Matty's grin has turned into a shit eating one, and he only glances at you before giving Zack all his attention and offers him a high five and a, "Nice to meet you, bud."

Immediately, like any child before their teens, he returns your boyfriends high five excitedly and it seems that he loves Matty from that gesture alone. Probably even more so after Zack outs you again. "By the way," Your little cousin continues telling Matty, "She told me she'd take me to one of your concerts when I'd be old enough and it still hasn't happened."

Noting Zack's dramatic emphasis on the word 'still', Matty is just as dramatic when he looks at you, shaking his head like he's wildly disappointed in you, "Now that's just rude, Y/N."

"Okay, listen," You hold your hand up and gesture to your little cousin, "You're barely even ten."

Zack looks hurt when he half shouts, "I'm eleven!" And your little bitch of a boyfriend nods at Zack saying, "That sounds old enough to me."

"See!" The little dirty blond smiles like your boyfriend just gave him a piece of cake, "I am old enough."

"Don't worry, you'll be going to the next one mate. I'll put you on the guestlist." Matty promises him, with the condition of, "Just don't start swearing when you hear me swear, okay? And then you can come to more than just one show, okay?" Zack says a big thank you and quickly hugs your boyfriend before sticking his tongue out at you playfully, making you laugh, and he runs back to his parents to tell them the good news.

You shake your head but can't take the smile off your face when you sigh, "You're just spoiling them now."

"It's only a concert." Matty shrugs like it's no big deal. "Can't believe you didn't treat them." You scoff, "Where you pretend to fucking toss yourself off, excuse me for not taking them to this tour when I knew what it'd be like."

"I'll change it up for them next time, for Still At Their Very Best." Matty promises with a smile, "I've got ideas already."

"God, I absolutely dread to think." You mumble, wondering what in the hell you're eventually going to have to subject your family too.

Matty smirks at your fake distaste, but he can't fight the need to kiss that pout off your face. He reaches down to the metal of your seat and pulls your chair right beside his, and as soon as you're close enough he cups your cheek and gives you a gentle kiss. You all but melt at his touch, and Matty is so in awe at the way you react to him, loving how it's like fate brought you together as you so seamlessly fit. But he can't help but tease his beautiful girlfriend, "You act like you won't come to every show with me."

You hum in amusement as he taps the tip of your nose, but you play right back. He needs a taste of his own medicine with how big his head is right now.  "Not if Arctic Monkeys are touring," You can't take the smile from your lips as you peck his pillowy lips once more, "I'm going round with Flo. We've already arranged it."

Matty sighs, closing his eyes for a second as he nods, "Of course you have."

You find yourself unable to stop yourself from giggling at his reaction because bringing the Monkeys up was always a fun way to step on his ego. Despite the bruise you've just left, your boyfriend starts chuckling too as the party sweeps you back up.

The DJ announces that the buffet is served and you patiently watch the hungry wolves descend before you get up yourselves. As you're both eyeing up what food you fancy, another of your little cousins come over. Matty notices straight away that the little girl, maybe about 9 years old, recognises him. The shock on the little blonde's face makes it evident, but more so that when she stands right beside the both of you, she's jaw dropped as she looks at him and says, "Oh my god! You're the guy who says 'One, Two, fucking jump'!"

The gasp that leaves your lips is instant and loud, and Matty has to hold in his laugh as you lean down and tell her, "I've told you that you're not allowed to say that unless the song is on."

Immediately the little girl, who Matty thinks from the resemblance alone must be Zack's little sister, runs off giggling and you stand back up properly taking a deep breath. It takes everything in your boyfriend not to laugh at you again being outed by your family, but he doesn't let you get away with it. When you look back at him, he asks curiously, "Why have you been teaching kids that?"

"I was babysitting and they were asking what concerts I'd been to so we put on live at the O2 and of course they picked up on that bit." You sigh, shaking your head, but then you poke your boyfriend in the chest a few times as you say, "So if we think about it, it's your fault really."

It was Matty's turn to gasp and shake his head then, and after debating it for a few minutes the both of you ended up agreeing to disagree. The food was glorious and Olly came over to eat with you both taking a respite from being his Mums show pony for a bit, and being unable to hold back all of you went back up to get second helpings of the buffet because it was too good to go to waste.

Just after Olly left you, again being dragged away into a conversation with his Mum and another of her friends, you saw your little cousin Sam heading towards you again. This time a plate full of crisps and brownies in his hands and after plopping them on the table, the little 7 year old comes around so he can sit with you.

As you lift him up and place him on your knee so he's facing Matty, you kiss the top of his head and smile as you ask, with a hint of warning, "You gonna try again?"

"Erm, yeah." The little man giggles a little shyly before he looks at your boyfriend and smiles, "Hi, I'm Sam."

"Hiya Sam," Matty grins, and offers him a high five, "Nice to meet you. I'm Matty."

"Yeah, I know." Sam nods and proudly tells your boyfriend with a big smile, "Auntie Y/N taught me."

"Oh yeah? I bet she has." Matty grins, his eyes flicking from Sam to you and you glare back at him. Even more so when he asks him, "What did she teach you?"

"Your names, your bands name," Your little cousin starts holding up his fingers as he counts, "And the lyrics to your songs."

"Really?" Matty raises his eyebrows entirely amused and not at all surprised anymore. Your boyfriend pries further, "Does Auntie Y/N/N go on about me all the time?"

"No." Leaves your lips immediately but simultaneously little Sam nods, "Yes she does."

And Matty snorts, inclined to believe your cousin over you after all he's heard tonight so he grins at the little boy and half whispers, "I knew it."

Sam starts laughing at that, noting your distaste when you whisper, "You traitor." In his ear which makes him laugh even louder. You can't even pretend you're upset with him because he's just too god damn cute.

But he becomes even cuter when he leans closer to Matty and asks, "Is George actually your best friend?"

Your boyfriend's face lights up at the mention of his friend, and Matty nods in confirmation, "Yeah he is."

"He's so tall!" Sam yells as he raises his arms above his head as high as they will go to try and emphasise just how tall George is, and you think that he would be just as enamoured meeting George as he is with Matty.

Matty chuckles, "I know." Not being able to help but slowly fall in love with the child who's snuggled into your lap.

Each time you kiss his short dark hair, Matty finds his heart skipping a beat. Seeing you with the kid is making him think about the possibilities of your future together and he loves the way he can see it so clearly, he quickly realises just how desperately he wants that for the both of you.

Although, Matty might reconsider when little Sam tells him, "Auntie Y/N/N laughed once and called you the short one."

"Of course she did." Matty shakes his head, looking up at you disapprovingly before he points between the two of us and declares, "Divorced."

Your jaw falls at that which makes little Sam laugh loudly. Matty offers Sam a fist bump as they both start laughing and you let Sam slip from your lap so he can close the distance to Matty on his own two feet.

After the very excitable fist bump Matty ruffles the little man's hair before he wanders off and goes back to playing with your other little cousins. You look back at your gorgeous curly haired brunette and ask, "Divorced then?"

"Oh absolutely not," Matty smirks, shuffling his seat right beside yours so he can wrap his arm around the back of you and he pulls you against him as he whispers in your ear, "Wouldn't know how to live without you now baby, you're mine. Always."

Feeling him plant a quick kiss just under your ear has you needing to take another few seconds to steady your thundering heart after hearing those words. God you love him so so much, and it means more to you that he's still saying all these things after you've been outed all evening by various members of your family.

Just after your little moment, Olly comes back over with more drinks for the two of you, courtesy of your Uncle who just bought a round. And after that people start getting up to dance, so it is hard to stay sitting down when the dance floor gets crowded and you have an excuse to enjoy the music with your boyfriend.

Your cheeks hurt from grinning so hard by the time you get thirsty enough to leave your boyfriend's side and go to the bar. You don't think you'll ever forget the way Matty sang Crazy in Love by Beyonce to you with his arm clutching you tightly against him. Those three words hung on the tip of your tongue and were so close to slipping out during the entirety of that song.

You didn't even have it in you to be embarrassed of the heated kiss you gave Matty when the song came to an end, hoping that the perfect fit of your lips and the rush of emotions that exuded from your pores was felt and understood by him.

When you get to the bar, you look over your shoulder to see your boyfriend taking a seat by your table again. It was pathetic how the bartender catches you staring at the man of your dreams and has to call for you twice before you come out of your trance to give him your order.

The heat in your cheeks doesn't leave, not even when the bartender hands you the drinks and you thank him. But the blush of your cheeks only becomes more noticeable when you turn around to make way back to Matty and you see him with your precious little Sam sitting on his knee, chatting his ear off.

When getting closer to your two favourite boys, your heart flips seeing both of their big grins. You commit the moment to memory as best you can because you don't think you've ever seen anything cuter. However, your doting turns to shock when you get closer and you hear Sam ask your boyfriend a rather shocking question.

"Right, so did you actually get shot and how much money did you steal from that shop?"

"Erm," You stop dead in your tracks as you put your drinks down, and you look between them as you ask, "What's going on?"

Both of them seem to be too involved in their conversation because they ignore you and Matty explains, "Well you see, that wasn't real so I didn't actually get shot but I reckon I took a lot of money."

At that point you understand that they are talking about the Robbers music video that you've put on the clean version of in the past for him. The kid was so smart though that despite not seeing a gun he spotted the blood on Matty so you had to gently explain that he got shot, but that he was okay and fine now.

Little Sam smiles and hugs your boyfriend, "Good. Proud of you, Uncle Matty."

That right there, that Uncle Matty melted both Matty's heart and your own. You don't think you've heard anything cuter and it means the world to the both of you in different ways. You can see it in Matty's eyes, which instantly fall on you at the sound of those words coming from little Sam.

Both of you feel like something locks into place as if that alone is the confirmation of it all. He's yours entirely, and you're his, and neither of you plan on changing that at all. You're sure that an I love you passes between you in that moment. Maybe it's not verbalised, but the way you both look at each screams it, but unfortunately it's not the time or the place to tell each other right now.

"So, Sam," Matty clears his throat a little after giving your little cousin another tight squeeze, "What's your favourite song?"

"Ermmm," Sam thinks for a few seconds before looking at you as he inquires, "The one with all the colours and the numbers." And you can't help but smile at the memories of you having a dance around your Mum and Dads lounge with Sam in your arms as you taught him the fun song.

"TooTime?" Matty starts singing the chorus of it to him then, holding his fingers up for each of the numbers and Sam happily sings along knowing every word.

Both of them succeed in melting your heart even more and love Matty's giggle once he's finished when he asks your little cousin, "Ah yes that's a good one, innit?"

"I love it!" Sam shouts, trying to show just how much he loves it. Matty chuckles at him then, and he happily asks, "Do you want to sing it with me on Karaoke later?"

"Yes!" Little Sam cheers, throwing his arms up in excitement, "I know all of it!"

"Oh wow," Matty gasps and grins showing just how impressed he is with the little guy, "Your Auntie Y/N has taught you very well." Sam nods then looking at you brightly, and you can't help but grin back. He's the most adorable little 6 year old in the world with his ebony hair and green eyes. 

"She's my favourite." Sam tells Matty but it's loud enough for you to hear and you can't help the smile that comes to your face. But your joy slowly slips to curiosity when Matty covers his mouth as he whispers into your little cousin's ear, and slowly you watch as Sam's face lights up. You try but you can't hear what he tells your little cousin over the music that the DJ is playing for the now drunk women on the dancefloor.

So you lean forward and tap Sam's knee, asking, "What's he saying?"

Little Sam looks up at Matty, smiles, and then looks back to you and smirks, "Can't tell you."

You exaggerate your gasp before you say, "You can't have secrets from your favourite."

Sam's very smug when he declares, "Uncle Matty's also my favourite so I can." You playfully narrow your eyes at the child in your boyfriend's lap, but you can't help but adore the way Matty's face lights up at what he said. Whether it was just in jest or not, he loves that he's already being welcomed into the family with open arms.

"When did you get so sassy?" You ask Sam, and when he only offers you a small shrug in answer, you start standing up when you say, "And I'm telling Uncle Olly he's not your favourite Uncle anymore."

Hearing that makes Sam's eyes go wide, "No!"

"I'm telling him right now." You say as you start walking away from the table with a grin on your face.

"Auntie Y/N!" Your little cousin shouts as he scrambles from Matty's lap and chases after you.

Your boyfriend can't help but laugh at the cute scene playing out. He watches as you walk over to Olly who's at the bar with more of his family and Sam is yelling no at you, pleading with you not to spill his secret.

As he watches Olly's jaw dramatically fall though, Matty knows the classified information is out and it's funny watching little Sam be picked up by Olly who he gives a big hug too, and afterwards he's passed to you where you also receive a hug and a big kiss to your cheek.

Matty watches on with adoration in his eyes, loving seeing you so happy. All Matty hopes now is that Sam doesn't reveal their own little secret of what he whispered into his ear.

"Keep it a secret for me, but she's my favourite too. I love her lots."

~*~*~*~

With the kids up on the dancefloor, finally entertaining each other instead of embarrassing you, Matty and you get a moment to breathe. Something which leads to your Mum and Auntie waving the both of you over to them and after sitting down at the circular table, you and Matty fall into easy conversation with them.

You're sitting beside Matty and your Auntie, and your Mum's on your boyfriend's other side, and you and your boyfriend love being filled in on your family gossip that your Auntie has managed to acquire all evening. And you can't help but laugh at how eager Matty looks to be soaking in all of the rumours and theories the sisters have to offer considering he doesn't know half the people that they're talking about.

"So Matty," Your Mum asks, moving the conversation on and gaining his full attention, "When do you go back on tour?"

"Oh well, we have SNL on the eleventh of March and then we pretty much go straight on to doing festivals." Your boyfriend explains.

Your Mum tilts her head a little when she asks, "SNL?" Looking to you for an explanation which you don't hesitate to give her.

"It's that American sketch show that's on at midnight with all of the 'comedians' but they have musical guests on too." You tell them, you're Auntie nodding along in recognition.

"Oh," Your Mum's eyes flick straight back to Matty, her smile is bright as she says, "That sounds fun."

"I think it is to some people. It's entirely too American for me." Matty tells her and your Auntie honestly with a waft of his hand, "But they have us there practising for a full week before even when we've done months of practising the songs on tour."

Needless to say when the announcement went out that they were on SNL you were a little gutted to find that the band weren't going to be involved in any of the sketches themselves. But you guess the average American audience isn't going to want 4 men from Wilmslow when they could have Jenna Ortega instead.

There are mumbles from the sisters about how annoying the rehearsing must be for your boyfriend and the band, but then your Mum turns towards you and asks, "Are you joining him, Y/N/N?"

"Unfortunately, I'll be on the other side of the country," You pout, hating the fact that their SNL date is the night before the Oscars. You smile, "But I'll certainly be watching on TV."

Matty shuffles his chair a bit closer to yours as he proposes over the music, resting his hand on your thigh as he does, "You could join me earlier in the week if you fancy it?"

"I'll have a look what the plan is for rehearsals and meetings beforehand but everything's so busy." You sigh really wishing you could because you'd love to explore New York as you've yet to go. Matty nods understandingly as you lace your fingers with his on your thigh and give him a squeeze. But before he can respond, your auntie chips in, putting her hand on the table in front of you and taps.

"Speaking of," She starts, and gives you her raised eyebrow look that screams you're about to be told off, "You've been so busy you've not done any more book videos recently!"

"I know, I'm sorry," You sigh and pout a bit, half feeling like you've let both her and yourself down since you haven't read and reacted to her or your Mum's recommendations. "I'll jump back in soon. I swear."

You continue to explain yourself, "I've got Amelia's cooking show to edit this week and the Oscar's to prepare for so no updates yet unfortunately."

"Terrible." Your Auntie shakes her head in fake disapproval which makes you laugh so you blow her a kiss to appease her.

As she catches it and pretends to pocket it for later, you catch Matty looking at you curiously, and after raising an eyebrow at him, he asks you, "Book videos?"

"You know how Amelia's got her cooking show as a side gig from Chicken Shop Date?" You ask and Matty nods, having seen that on her instagram in the past, so you continue to explain, "Yeah, well I do like book reviews and stuff on TikTok and Instagram."

"Wait, what?" Matty blinks a couple of times, entirely confused because he's never come across this before. "Why haven't I seen this? I've not even seen you reading."

Yes, he'd seen a bookshelf that was filled back at your flat and books above your desk but nothing that screamed you were a massive reader. A book hoarder maybe, but you'd never even mentioned it to him. Nevermind having not seen anything on your social media about you reading, or being big into giving reviews on them.

"It's on a side account, I keep it separate. Don't post about it on my main account all that often." You explain, before you give him an accusing look, "And I think your tour kept me a bit preoccupied, didn't it? Definitely didn't have time to read then."

Matty almost starts laughing, "It's been a while since tour, baby."

"Okay," You sigh in defeat, but you try and evade the blame regardless by passing it on to him, "You've kept me preoccupied then. No time for reading at the moment."

Your boyfriend hums, accepting his fate for now and not bringing up the fact that you've been deep in your Oscars research for the last few weeks and stressing yourself out over that. His distractions he thinks were the best stress relievers for you, but little did he know you had a different hobby that could have been just as effective. Maybe he'll take you out book shopping in the next few days to treat you to whatever you fancy as a good luck present before he flies to America.

"And I think you forget you only started following me personally in October, life's been pretty hectic for us both since then." You raise your eyebrows at him, but your boyfriend just rolls his eyes playfully knowing you'd pin the blame on him even more somehow.

"Show me?" Matty asks, leaning closer like his proximity will convince you further.

He feels like he needs to find this other piece of your jigsaw. He's half upset with himself that he didn't pick up on your love for literature before now, and the instant you show him he will be following your account.

You smile, tilting your head a little and you look into those gorgeous brown eyes promising, "Later."

"Okay." Matty agrees with a grin before leaning in that bit more and pressing a kiss to your lips.

You savour the first peck you've received in a while and you can't get the smile off your face. Not even as you look back across the table to your Mum and Aunt who are looking at the both of you like gossiping school girls, and you already know you're about to get some teasing.

Your Auntie Sharon can't help but ask you, "Do you feel like you're living some teenage dream?"

Matty cackles at that and pulls you into his side, so you just let your head rest on his shoulder as you giggle and nod, "Every day," and you love the smile the sisters send your way.

It's easy for both you and Matty to see that they are overjoyed with just how happy you are. Matty doesn't think he's ever quite seen so much love shine from a mother and auntie and it makes your boyfriend so beyond happy to see just how much your family adore you and want the best for you. And he loves the fact that he seems to have their approval, if their reactions are anything to go by. He's unable to stop himself from kissing the top of your head.

"Speaking of," Matty says, pulling back for a moment so you can see him again, and he has the biggest grin you've ever seen on his lips, "I wanna see your room."

Immediately you remember that you need to gut the place as soon as you get back home. Your Mum starts silently pissing herself at Matty's request and you know your Aunt has seen the state of your bedroom too so she knows the panic you must be feeling. You 100% can not have him see the posters of his band on your wall, so you just chuckle and shake your head, "Not until later."

And thankfully Matty doesn't get the chance to pry because your 3 little cousins run up to the both of you and start begging your boyfriend to join them on karaoke which he agrees to very quickly. And it is one of the best moments of the night when you see the four of them up there singing, the kids really needing the autotune Matty normally has on but it's adorable nevertheless. And your heart all but stops when your boyfriend gets them all dancing, but it's when Zack and his little sister Macie pull you up with them to dance too which is the most fun. Because never in your life has it been hard to dance to one of Matty's songs.

Afterwards the night seems to pass by in a blur of dancing, loud music, and alcohol. Around 10, the kids end up leaving as they are all slowly falling asleep and the parents take them home but not before you kiss your little cousins goodbye.

After Olly leaves, you and Matty stick to yourselves in the booth that the three of you were once occupying. And the rest of your night is spent drinking and people watching from your quiet corner of the room.

You're unsure how, but you end up sitting in Mattys lap, his hold on your waist tight to keep you cosied up to him and your legs are over him, his other hand gently stroking the back of your thigh. The anecdotes of your family has Matty giggling and he loves hearing you talk about them with such delight clear in your voice.

The joy sticks with the both of you as you leave and make it back to your parents house. Your family's drunk antics have you all giggling in the back of the taxi and the laughter continues once you're all inside your childhood home.

Your Dad heads straight for the kitchen for another beer and he offers Matty one which he politely declines after your Mum offers him a cup of tea instead. You jump on the brew order, not needing to be any more tipsy than you already are and so your Mum puts your Dad to work making those.

Just as Matty's slipping his shoes off in the hall, he asks you, "Where's your toilet?"

"Upstairs, and it's the second door on the left." You tell him, "Don't get lost."

"I'll endeavour not to." Your boyfriend smiles before quickly kissing your cheek and jogging up the stairs.

You can't quite get the grin off your face as you head into the lounge, and you see your Mum smiling at you and you give her a hug because you could never give the gorgeous woman enough of them. She embraces you like any loving mother should, giving you a long warm hug which you realise how much you miss not being at your disposal all the time. When you pull back from her, she doesn't let you go far, holding your shoulders as she gives you a look that screams she's about to be serious.

"So," She starts.

You're a bit nervous asking, "So?"

"You're happy?" Your Mum asks, and you all but breathe a sigh of relief.

You promise her, a smile growing on your face as you nod, "The happiest I've been in a long time."

"It shows, darling." She grins, and rubs your arms a little as she continues, "I'm so thrilled for you."

"You approve then?" You ask after giggling a little.

"Not that us not approving would make a single bit of difference to you going out with the man who you've got posters of in your bedroom." Your Mum laughs a bit but nods, "He's a gentleman, couldn't ask for any better."

Your stomach drops slightly, still stuck on the first thing she said, "I need to take them down," You panic knowing there's a fair bit of 1975 memorabilia in your bedroom, so you plead with her, "You'll have to distract him for me in a bit."

"I will happily chat his ears off. And yes, we approve." You Mum chuckles, but then her words almost make you cry when she softly grabs your hand and squeezes as she says, "It'd be difficult not to when you see someone caring for your daughter and making her so happy."

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you pull her into another tight hug and after a second of being in her embrace you whisper, "Thank you Mum. Love you."

"Love you more," She tells you before your Dad shouts that your drinks are ready in the kitchen.

The cup of tea was a much needed rest bite after a night of drinking, but you realise how much time has passed when you're half way through your brew and Matty's still not come down to collect his. "He's been up there a while." You hum aloud, getting slightly paranoid he's in your bedroom, planning an escape after seeing himself on your bedroom walls.

Your Dad laughs, "Still on the toilet or snooping?"

"Either is plausible. He also could have fallen asleep." You chuckle, but then you decide to grab both of your brews and head upstairs, "I'll go up and make sure he's not stuck in the bathroom."

"Night lovie." Your Mum blows you a kiss after your Dad says, "Goodnight."

"Night night." You smile before heading up.

And you know your fears are confirmed that your boyfriend is in fact having a nosey when you see that your bedroom door is open and the light is on. Sighing slightly, you prepare to bite the bullet and you step into your old room and see that your boyfriend is standing, staring at your poster filled walls.

"You're a snoop." You shake your head as you put your mugs down on your bedside table.

Matty's head flies around to look at you then, and thankfully instead of seeing horror, his face is full of amusement.

"Can you blame me?" Your boyfriend chuckles, looking back at your walls, "I feel like I've just walked into your head."

He's not far wrong with that analogy. There's the big black and white 1975 poster on your wall which is the same as the picture inside the self titled vinyl of the boys in 2013. Smaller posters surround it, some of other musicians like Lana Del Rey, The Neighbourhood, and you have a bigger Arctic Monkeys one from the AM era not far from it.

Horrifyingly for you though, there's a lot more 1975 stuff around your room though, whether that be the vinyls proudly displayed on your shelves, lyrics posters, little drawings of the band you found online in your youth that you were gifted for your birthday. Not to mention pictures you had printed out from their various gigs you've been to over the year. There was a lot of memorabilia to say the least, and you just have to pray your boyfriend doesn't run in the other direction.

On the brighter side, looking at your bedroom now you realise that if you posted a picture of it to Tumblr back in the day you'd have gone viral long before Chicken Shop Date ever existed. What a wasted opportunity, because you certainly won't be doing so now.

"Yeah twenty-year-old-me's head." You chuckle, because if you don't laugh at yourself, you will cry. "You don't consume my head like this anymore."

Matty glances at you then and his look screams that he doesn't believe a word that's just left your lips. Which in fairness it was a bit of a lie, but he consumes your thoughts now in a much different way to what he did back then. You loved his music and the version of himself he let the world see back then, but now you're in love with him, the real him, more and more so every day.

You hum truthfully, "There's a few more posters I'd have up now of a few other people."

"Slightly offended," Matty nods, turning properly towards you then, "But I'll allow it."

Your boyfriend steps to just in front of you then, and he grabs your hands and squeezes them for a second before he moves closer and holds your hips to his instead. There's a small hopeful smile on your face then, feeling like from the gesture alone you don't have to be scared of the answer to your question, "Scared you off?"

Matty silently chuckles at that, and he looks so lovingly into your eyes that you're sure your heart skips a beat as he says, "You'd have to have a lot worse than posters of my band on your wall to scare me off baby."

You hum, your grin getting bigger as you wrap your arms around his neck and start twirling the curls at the back of his head. "You don't know about a few things."

"The cardboard cutout of me in your wardrobe?" Matty can't help but grin with a raised eyebrow.

Your jaw falls open, and you're fully frozen for a moment before you gasp, "You massive snoop!"

Matty quickly kisses your shock away with a laugh before pulling out of your grasp and heading over to the guilty wardrobe. He looks so excited to reveal it, it makes you want to die. "No, your Mum told me about that one." Matty gets the door, opening it to reveal that on the back of the door is a 2014 him with his hair flicked over to one side of his head, wearing a denim jacket and black skinny jeans.

Whilst you're mortified because your boyfriend has seen a cardboard cutout of himself, you can't help the small smile that forms on your lips in reaction to that picture of him. It's always been one of your favourites, but it seems Matty doesn't feel the same way.

Matty's frowning as he looks at himself, "That's such an awkward picture of me."

"Don't you dare," You slap his shoulder, upset that he feels that way about that picture of himself, "It was one of my favourites."

Matty hums, looking between you and the life-sized cutout before asking you accusingly, "How many times have you kissed it?"

"No," Your face immediately flushes then, and your hands come up to hide yourself from him as you scorn, "Stop it Matthew."

Your boyfriend can't help the loud laugh that leaves his lips then, your reaction alone being confirmation enough for him. "I'll take that as more than once." Matty chuckles as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up twirling you around which makes a little surprised squeal leave you.

It ends up with you both giggling and as Matty places you back on solid ground, he's unable to stop himself from gently grabbing your chin and guiding your lips to his. Only then does a satisfied hum leave his lips, feeling like he's been starved of your kisses all night in comparison to how you've been together the past few weeks.

You stand there for a little while, blissed out in each other's company as you kiss, needing it after a long night of you being surrounded by others. Your little bubble is back and you take full advantage of having him back all to yourself. The love you have for this man radiates from you and you hope that he can feel it despite you still not being brave enough to say it out loud. But at this point words aren't necessary, the way you are with each other speaks volumes and it's clear to everyone who sees you that the two of you are in love. And you can both feel it too.

Once you eventually catch up on lost time from having his lips on your own, you take a seat on your bed after handing Matty his brew and you start finishing your own as your boyfriend carries on looking around your bedroom. 

"Now I know you're into reading, I'm only just realising how many books you have." He smiles, glancing over the shelves across the top of your picture rail that are filled to the brim with books.

"Yeah," You hum, looking at them with a smile on your face before you explain, "They are all in different spots in my flat so I guess it's not as obvious it's a hobby."

"You have so many." Matty smiles, and after taking a sip of his tea he asks, "Have you read them all?"

"God no," You shake your head, "Probably most of them, but the aim is to fill out a little library room in my future home. That's the dream... Rolling ladder and everything."

The smile Matty gives you then makes your heart warm, and it's every girl's dream that their boyfriend responds to that dream with, "I'm down to make that happen."

As you take your last gulp of your tea, Matty moves over to the set of books that are proudly displayed on top of your chest of drawers and asks, "What are these books with the tabs in?"

And seeing the multicoloured series combined with your boyfriend picking one up, it makes you almost spit your tea out. Attempting to remain calm, you shake your head and nod to the red book in his hand, "We don't talk about these books. Pretend you never saw them."

Matty flips it round to see the cover properly and starts, "A Court of-"

"No," You all but yelp as you stand and grab the book from his hand and place it nearly back with the others in the series, "You never saw them, ignore them."

"Hard to ignore when there's so many notes in them." Matty raises his eyebrows at you.

"Hush." You say, grabbing his free hand and pulling him back towards your bed, "You've just reminded me I need to text Flo."

"What you texting her about?" Your boyfriend asks as you get her contact up on your phone, "I've not done anything wrong, have I?

"No," You chuckle, squeezing his hand before you let it go as you sit on your bed and start typing, "You're good. I promise."

Just wondering if it was you or Alex who read acomaf and he wrote body paint bc you recreated a specific chapter????? Let me know 👀x

Matty sees you grinning as you type out your text, so he has to ask, "What you messaging her?"

As your boyfriend tries to be nosy and sits beside you, trying to look over at your phone, after sending the message you lock your phone and smile at him. You briefly lean towards him and place a kiss on his cheek after you say, "That's for me and her to know and for you and Alex to find out."

Matty hums and kisses your lips, but then he smirks as he says, "Sounds like a fun night."

You burst out laughing, "Shut up."

And in the morning you'll be laughing again when you see Florence's reply of, I'll leave you to your own deductions, but I'll say there's more than one reason I call him Darling... If you know what I mean 😜😘x

Feeling the day start to catch up with you, you start getting yourself ready for bed, getting your pyjamas on and you leave Matty in your room as you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You're happily washing your face still with the slight buzz all the alcohol you had tonight mixed with feeling head over heels in love, and you look at yourself in the mirror and notice just how happy you are.

You truly don't think you've ever been this happy in yourself. Everything in your life is currently so amazing and has a magical feel to it, you hope that this joy you're feeling never ends. You have a career which is only flourishing more and more now you and Amelia are getting the credit you've long deserved, your family are all happy and healthy, and you have a boyfriend who makes you feel like a princess and who you're madly in love with.

However, happiness like this can't last forever. And your boyfriend makes damn sure of that. From the bathroom, you hear him shout your name and when you respond, he asks, "Why have you marked a page where the guy says, 'Put your hands on the headboard.'?"

You all but choke on the air in your lungs, and you can see your now horrified expression in the mirror as you yell back, "No, STOP!"

"You dirty bitch," Matty laughs loudly, "You marked all of the sex scenes."

You barely dry your face before running back to your room and see the horrific sight that is Matty Healy reading A Court Of Silver Flames on your bed. It's all forms of wrong, mostly because he's reading the smut, but also because he's reading the 5th instalment of the series first and that's crazy spoilers.

It gets worse for you when you see him flick to another of your tabs earlier in the book and his eyes go wide after he looks at the page and then to you and there is the beginnings of a smirk on his lips as he asks, "They did what under the table?"

"Matty, give me the book." You hold your hand out to it, but your boyfriend has none of it.

His eyes are back on the page, no doubt reading the notes you annotated on the page, and he can't help but laugh, "So that's where you learned to do that."

At this point you've had enough, fully scurrying over your bed and throwing a leg over to straddle him to try and pin him down to your bed as you try and get your book back. "That book came out two years ago. I knew how to do that long before," You make it very clear.

Matty can only cackle, trying to push himself up and raising the book above his head so it's out of your reach. He shakes his head at you, but his smile is coy and suggestive as he looks at you accusingly, "You filthy little slut."

"Don't call me that when you've just read that." You warn him, shaking your head, one hand thankfully now on your book, "I know what you're doing."

"Caught me." Matty chuckles, still not releasing your novel though. He smirks as he says, "You're still a slut though."

You sigh at that and just decide to own it and shrug with a little smile finding its way to your lips. But you can't help but laugh when Matty adds, "My slut." And you just quickly lean down and press a kiss to his lips to shut him up.

When you finally pry the book from your boyfriend's hands and he laughs at you for quite a while, but you just put it back where it belongs before getting yourself into bed. Matty then decides he wants to do his skincare which makes you whine, not bothering to do yours tonight, and after you told him this he decided that he was going to be the one to take on the task.

After telling him off for using far too much product both on his face and your own, the both of you settle into bed, only being disturbed by your Mum knocking on your door to ask if Matty was indeed snooping. You all laugh after you tell her that he was and your boyfriend tries to defend himself which makes you scoff. Your Mum just laughs along before bidding the both of you goodnight.

Fifteen minutes pass of you and Matty catching up on the day's events that you might have missed on your phones. But then Matty gets carried away when he asks for your BookTok account and you reluctantly show him which leads to him going down a rabbit hole with your videos for another 10 minutes before you confiscate his phone and tell him that he can look at more tomorrow.

Now, you're both cuddled up in the darkness of your room, breathing each other in and you're practically melting into your boyfriend as his hand is routed in your hair, giving you a head massage. You're getting sleepy now, the alcohol definitely catching up with you and being so warm in the arms of the man you love only adds to the comfort and peacefulness.

Before you succumb to sleep, you say, "Thank you for being so lovely with my family tonight."

"Thank you for inviting me, baby." Matty smiles, kissing your forehead softly as he adds, "I had a lovely time."

"Truly Matty," You say, sounding a little more awake as you really want him to know how genuine you are when you say, "Thank you for being so lovely, especially with the kids."

Matty is smiling at the memory of all of you on the dancefloor earlier this evening when he tells you honestly, "I love kids. It was no trouble at all."

You hum, already knowing just how good he was with children. Seeing him with Adam and Carly's little boy was enough proof of that, but him being equally as adorable with your family really melted your heart. It certainly had you thinking about future possibilities.

"I think Sam liked you." You whisper into his neck. Matty hums in agreement, and after a few seconds he replies, "I think Sam's my favourite of them, if I'm allowed to say that."

"I don't think we're supposed to admit it, but he's my favourite too." You spill your little secret. You do miss the nights you were babysitting him a lot, you miss him like crazy and you are definitely going to arrange for him to come to your flat again soon so you can spoil him rotten.

You can't get over tonight though, the memories replaying quickly in your mind leads you to be grinning like a fool as you say, "You doing karaoke with him might have been my favourite moment of tonight."

Matty's kissing your forehead again and you expect another hum of agreement, but he surprises you when he says, "My favourite moment was finding that cardboard cut out."

Immediately you slap his bare chest and tell him, "Stop it right now," as you feel yourself flush.

Matty can't help his cackle then, but he has to push you a little, "What would nineteen year old you be thinking right now if she knew ten years later I'd be in this bed with you?"

You chuckle at that, and there's no hesitation in your answer, "She'd be saying 'fuck the risks, get all his clothes off'." You tease him then and let your hand run down his chest until your fingertips are tracing the elastic of his boxers.

Matty's breath catches in his throat for a second then, but he thinks he does well at restraining himself when he just brushes his lips against your ear and encourages, "You're more than welcome to."

You smirk, loving the thought but you're having none of it, "Absolutely not."

Matty chuckles knowing it was coming and he can only say he's thankful that you move your hand from his waistband before any more sinful thoughts run through his mind. Although he thinks the fact he's quite literally on your walls and the revelation he's had about you reading smutty books, he does think you'd quite enjoy what he has in mind. Maybe another time though.

There's a few minutes of silence between you then, and you're very nearly asleep when your boyfriend asks, "Got anything else you wanna tell me baby?"

By your slow and sleepy response alone, Matty knows he's lucky he caught you still awake, "Nothing else yet until we're married with kids so you can't run away scared."

"Come on, can't be that bad." He encourages.

You hum, "It is." But you're happy enough as there's no way in hell you're telling him a thing.

Matty lets the silence pass between you then, and you're about to slip into sleep until he speaks back up. And your world cracks with his words, "Is it the fanfiction you wrote about me?"

Pulling out of his grasp immediately, you feel wide awake with your heart beating out of your chest as you stumble asking, "How- H- How do you know about that?" Your blood has certainly just run cold and you're sure that if there was any light in the room you would look extremely ill because you certainly feel it. Never have you felt so mortified in your life.

But Matty's just grinning as he explains, "Dimz is very keen on embarrassing you when she's drunk."

"I hate her so much." You curse her as you roll away from him and hide into your pillow, willing your bed to suffocate you.

Matty just laughs at your reaction though and follows you over to the other side of your bed. He doesn't let you escape, instead he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you gently back into him as he says into your ear, "I wanna know what it's called and what it was about."

"Absolutely not, no, never." You mumble into your pillow. 

After a few minutes of reassurance that he's not bothered by it, and he hasn't been put off by your deepest darkest secret, you vow that you're going to get Amelia back for her betrayal. Apparently he's known about it for a while and has never been fussed by the news, which might be the only blessing of the whole situation. Although you still would have preferred him to find out about it years, if not decades down the line.

Eventually, after a lot of coxing and playful kisses, he has you back facing him and you've relaxed against his warm body again. And you think your soul yearns for him once more when his nose rubs against yours as he whispers, "Obsessed with you baby."

"Obsessed with you too." You hum, a smile dancing over your lips which Matty can't help but kiss a few times.

Only when your kisses cease does he grin, "Oh, I know."

~*~*~*~ 7th March 2023 ~*~*~*~

Going to Los Angeles, for one of the most nerve-wracking weekends of your life, after having spent the best time with your family and your boyfriend was a change big enough to give you whiplash. Not to mention the horrendous jet lag that had messed up your schedule the first day in LA.

You and Amelia had been trying to fight the consequences of the change of time-zones, and the effects of your nerves when thinking of the upcoming events. At least you were able to be productive when you and your best friend were stuck being up during the night, and had started your practising of questions and notes about all the different people that would attend the Oscars After Party.

The day has been spent rehearsing, doing fittings for the content you were recording, and having a meeting with the Vanity Fair team. And though you've only done a few things, the day has felt so long; you could've shed tears of happiness when getting back to your hotel room. It is mostly because jet lag has been kicking your arse, so running yourself a bath and reading a book in the tub is your form of self-care tonight.

You do your skincare routine once out of the bath and let your hair air dry as you continue reading your book. However, your reading is interrupted when your phone starts ringing from where it landed on the bed after you tossed it as soon as you got back.

You almost don't go over to pick it up, but when you catch a glimpse of a silly photo of your boyfriend that you have as his contact picture, you almost throw the book over your shoulder and answer his call.

"How's your day going baby?" He says with a loopy smile as soon as you answer.

It's embarrassing the way your expression instantly falls into an enamoured one when you see his pretty face. For a second, you forget how draining the day has been, until you remember he asked you a question, "Yeah okay, thank you. It's just such a massive production, it's a lot to wrap my head around." When you think about it, you get nervous all over again, "I'm glad we got here a week before; lets it all sink in a bit more."

"Yeah and it's completely understandable that you'd need time to adjust to it," He can also see how tired you look, probably jet lag, and the nerves must be playing with you to make it worse. "Remember it's still only your third carpet like this and you've smashed it each time, so you're only gonna get better and better."

You roll your eyes at yourself because your insides melt when hearing him reassure you. A drunk-in-love giggle almost slips past your lips as you say, "Thank you baby, I hope so."

Matty is not having any doubt though, so he states, "You will."

If he keeps saying stuff like that, you will either cry because he's not next to you or simply manage to push those three words that keep coming to your mind when you see him, so you change the topic, "Well enough about me, how are your rehearsals going?"

You need the inside gossip on Saturday Night Live. Any and all details you'll happily eat up.

"It's okay, thank you. Just boring as fuck now the promo pictures and clips are done," The way he sighs and rolls his eyes in annoyance makes you giggle. He's a sassy one.

"Surely you get to see them practising the sketches," You reply excitedly, you had always been fascinated by the process behind SNL, "That must be cool."

He bursts your bubble by funnily pointing out, "No baby, it's so painfully American. Once you've seen it once. It's just shit."

"But you're so easily impressed," You joke with a smirk on your face. "How are you struggling?"

"Ha ha." He says dryly but a smile plays on those gorgeous lips, "You'd understand if you were here seeing it."

Your chest sinks a little as you say, "I'm sorry I can't be."

"Don't be silly, you're busy," Matty says quickly, taking it back because he did not mean to make it sound like that. There's a pout on your face though so to try and distract you, he continues updating you on his rehearsal process, "We're rehearsing for a few hours and then pissing about for the rest of the day."

That automatically piques your interest, "What have you been entertaining yourselves with?"

"Today I'm going to meet Caveh. Remember, he's the one I told you about that's basically fucked his marriage over the fact he's videoing every aspect of his life."

"Oh yeah. That should be interesting." The memory of Matty showing you about that man comes to the forefront of your mind, and after your boyfriend filled you in on some of the 'lore' behind him, you were very intrigued by him. So it would be fun to see what Matty could find out from meeting him.

Your boyfriend has been so fascinated by him that you can see his excitement through his expression, "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it."

"What else have you been occupying yourself with?" You further ask, because there is no way he has been able to stay in his hotel room doing nothing. He's full of energy, like a fucking golden retriever, and you know it very well.

Mysterious, as he always tries to be, he replies, "Something I actually need your help with soon."

You sigh, thinking back to the many things he had said prior to you parting ways, "Matty we've discussed this: I'm not sending nudes regardless of time difference."

"No baby, not that," He huffs funnily, before he backtracks and very honestly says, "Although I do want to FaceTime again later."

You narrow your eyes at him and deem him, "Filthy."

All smug, he shrugs, "You know me."

You shake your head at him, but your curiosity is itching you so you ask again, "What do you need me for other than your filthy habits?"

He sits up straight, and gets all serious, "So me and Jordan are filming some stuff, making it a bit of like a day-in-the-life thing but funny, hopefully. I was just wondering if you'd do the honour of editing it all together?" 

You're so intrigued by him proposing the idea that he's essentially recording vlogs, not expecting that from him at all, so you're even more intrigued now as to which direction he will take when making them because there is no way it isn't for a bit that will become something bigger. While you try to think what he could be actually doing, you're silent so your boyfriend takes this as hesitancy and quickly adds, "No pressure if not, Jordan can manage just fine but I'd really love to have you involved in some way or another. And I know just how good you are, so I thought I'd ask."

You can't help but pout at him for being so cute, "I'd love to, might just have to finish it up properly after the Oscars."

He nods childishly, "Of course, that's fine."

Looking at your state, in your bathrobe while laying atop of the bed, you actually tell him, "You can send me stuff in the meantime, I'm not doing much when we aren't rehearsing, in fittings, or revising."

He tuts at you, "You should be out and about exploring LA."

You shrug, "Yeah but I plan to stay out here a bit longer so I can do that afterwards."

"I'm gonna fly out to you after SNL," Your boyfriend states.

Biting your bottom lip, you get a bit shy when you think you don't want to burden him by cutting short his very much needed rest before resuming his world tour, "You don't have to if you wanna go home."

He doesn't even have to think about it, "Why would I wanna be at home if you're not there?"

You press your lips together, holding back from the urge to screech at his words. Instead you let out an unconvinced, "Home comforts?"

He rolls his eyes, before staring at you through the screen, "You're my home comfort. Wherever you are is home, baby."

You can't hold it together anymore, covering your face with one of your hands and fully melting into the mountain of plush pillows, "I'm still too jet lagged for you to be cute, don't make me cry."

He coos, "Don't want you crying baby. I do miss you though."

"I miss you too..." you pout at him, and he pouts back while fluttering his lashes at you. You laugh at his puppy face, "God we're so pathetic, it's only been a few days."

He grins big and bright, "Ahhh but we're young romantics, it's the way."

You sigh, thinking ahead, "God help us when you go back on tour."

"Don't remind me," he groans, running a hand over his face. "I do hope you can come to a few of them."

You hum, as if you're considering it, but when you see him frowning, you giggle and assure him, "I'm sure I'll get to some."

In a shy little voice, he proposes, "You can book off our next UK tour."

"Well of course..." You say, because that was always the plan. You remember a very important aspect of a certain show though, "Just let me know when it'll be and I'll round up the family for your London date."

Your heart practically leaps from your chest when you see his face light up at the mention of your family and all those he had invited over to the shows, "Yes, I can't wait to have all the fam there!"

Something very important comes to mind when you think about his shows, so you feel the urge to say, "But can you do me a favour though and stop being a slut and pulling your top up when you sing? It's very distracting."

"I'll try," he quips back with a smirk. "Don't want to out you as my whore to your whole family, right?"

Your jaw is basically on the floor at his words, but you're quick to get yourself together and reply with rosy cheeks, "Okay, save those thoughts for later Mr. Healy."

His voice drops an octave when he says, "Baby..." with that smirk that makes your knees weak.

But you need to be strong so you look away and go back to something else, "Anyway, tell me more about your funny vlogs. And what elaborate title have you come up with for this series of videos?"

"I don't like the fact you know I've come up with a big name," He has the audacity to say with a frown.

You roll your eyes sarcastically, "You're so predictable." a smile playing on your lips that you can't quite hide.

He offers you a blank face and no enthusiasm as he says, "Gee, thanks."

"Come on, what's it called?" You urge, knowing that it's something ridiculous.

He sighs and lets the silence linger for a little, your curiosity growing and showing on your face, before he lets out, "A Theatrical Performance of an Intimate Moment."

You're so confused at first, the 'intimate moment' bit throwing you off instantly, so you quickly declare, "Yeah, I will definitely steer clear of actually being in these videos."

"Why?" He asks, almost offended.

You can't believe he's asking why when it's so obvious, "It sounds like a shit sex tape!"

He scoffs, shaking his head entirely in disapproval, "You're a little shit."

"L-" You catch yourself before you say it. A sarcastic 'love you' is not how you want to say those words for the first time. But you realise again just how much you need to say those words to him soon, it's getting painful to withhold them now. You laugh to disguise your previous mistake before saying, "Little shit I might be, but it does sound like a porno."

He thinks about it for a second, smirking when he gets your point, "Well, if you put it that way... You sure you don't wanna star in it baby?"

~*~*~*~ SNL Day ~*~*~*~

Matty is having an awful day. The worst in fact. For the most part, he tried not to let it show. He first battled his feelings by recording another section of the A Theatrical Performance of an Intimate Moment, but clearly being trapped inside a suitcase for a prolonged period of time left Matty to stew in his thoughts for a long while which made his mood worse when he eventually escaped his self-inflicted trap.

While the bits he directed Jordan to record of George slamming the now empty suitcase into a wall did make him laugh, the deflating feelings stuck around. And Matty would love to say the reason is solely because he's had enough of this week being trapped in America and being forced to be on the set of a show they weren't needed for five days of rehearsals for, he's lying to himself.

Matty knows and has buried the reason he's in such a foul mood now only hours before showtime is because he's not in America with you. He's on the other side of the country from you when all he's like to do is trap you in a never ending series of hugs and kisses. And to top the day off, he's barely had a chance to speak to you today with the time difference and the fact that you've been preparing and rehearsing yourself all day.

The only saving grace about today for Matty had been the meal that he had with his family and friends. The band, his Mum, Lincoln, and Jack and his fiance all had a big meal together in a lovely restaurant. But the actual saving grace of that meal was the fact it was the last time he spoke to you before he was whisked away back to Rockefeller Plaza for SNL.

You'd been telling him about your day which you'd mentioned had been really long, going over and over what was going ahead the following day. And then you told him that you were due a full dress rehearsal that evening which you were nervous for.

Matty reassured you endlessly, and he loved hearing your voice on the other end of the phone. It picked his mood up so much that when you eventually had to say goodbye because you were called upon, it left him longing for more. The last thing he wanted was to be overbearing, but maybe it was the mere fact that Matty knew he couldn't get ahold of you because your phone was in a green room in LA and not on your person just made you feel that much further from reach. His mood was back to being pouty and distant, the only thing he wanted to do was sit in the corner of his own green room in NYC and stare at pictures of you he had on his phone.

Whether that be the funny ones you'd snapped of yourself on his phone pulling a funny face when he wasn't watching just to fill his camera roll with nonsense, or the selfies he'd taken of you together in bed on lazy mornings. His favourites were the ones that just had you in it, the innocent ones that he'd take of you in his home, sitting reading away or cooking, or simply the ones of you giggling at something he said while he had his camera on you.

Matty adores every last inch of you, and he has your stunning faces memories down to the finest detail. How could he not when he's so irrevocably in love? All he wants right now is to be by your side cheering you on instead of hearing your prep day stories on the other end of the phone. Matty wishes he could actually be kissing your cheek instead of looking at his Lock Screen of him doing exactly that.

The singer releases a long sigh at the fact he can't do any of those things in the slightest and he won't be able to for quite a while. With another deflated sigh Matty locks his phone, closes his eyes and rests his head against the back of the settee. He planned on staying that way, maybe having a nap just to pass the time, until he felt a kick to the shin.

Opening his eyes, all Matty was met with is George frowning, asking, "Are you gonna get the stick out of your arse at some point today?"

"What?" He raises his eyebrows.

"You heard," The drummer tells him, "Pull the stick out your arse mate, you're in the worst mood."

Matty rolls his eyes at the drummer and mutters, "Sorry, I just want this to be over with now."

"It's alright, we get it, but come on. Can't have you looking like this when we've got America to impress."

He knows George is trying to make him laugh, but it fails. Matty shows no enthusiasm as he lets out a big exhale and his words come out defeated, "Yeah I know, I just wanna get it done."

"With a smile, I beg." Jamie pleads, putting his hands together to emphasise how much he would love for Matty to adorn that stage persona in another hour.

"Yeah, yeah."

Bless Adam, he hears and sees the lack of joy from Matty and he is quick to sit right next to him to offer, "You wanna talk about what's up?"

Matty sighs, allowing himself a deep breath to not let his mate be on the receiving end of his foul mood, "No Hann, I'm good. I don't even really know what's up, I just don't wanna be here anymore." It was just one of those days when everything felt wrong. He just couldn't be arsed anymore, especially with it being such an unnecessarily long gig, just so the only Americans who watched the dumb programme could go on twitter and ask 'who are these 1975 guys?'

However, Matty doesn't realise that everyone just knows he's in a bad mood because he's acting like a love sick puppy. "We've been here for days watching and waiting, and it's fucking boring at this point when we've performed these two songs almost a hundred times now."

Adam sighs, his hand coming to pat Matty's back in a show of reassurance, "I know mate, but after tonight we can go back home and be done with it."

Be done with it? God Matty can't wait for that moment. But going back home? While you're over in LA? Matty doesn't think he can do it at all. Not for another day. He can't begin to bear it. So after doing a bit of googling and seeing that no flight will get him there quick enough, Matty brings up a contact of a friend he's not long since left.

Jack, could I ask a massive favour please?

Matty doesn't have to wait long for a reply.

Course buddy, anything. What can I do for you?

After all arrangements are put in place not even ten minutes later, Matty locks his phone, his chest feeling lighter almost instantly and he disguards the device, "Right Jamie lets mess about, grab the guitar and I'll Google some chords, George you get the weed, Ross get the alcohol."

Ross scoffs and sarcastically asks, "Anything else sire?"

Matty groans, but a smile is still plastered on his face despite the fact that his following words sound slightly irritated, "Oh piss off."

Adam scolds Ross, pointing out, "He's smiling again, everyone do your tasks!"

In a few minutes, they're all sitting round the lounge area with Jamie playing the guitar, Matty using his phone looking for chords for different songs they all enjoy, George is rolling a couple spliffs, and Ross is pouring a few shots.

After the induction of alcohol and hearing Jamie Squire's phenomenal voice singing The Corrs, with everyone singing along to a bit of Shania Twain improv, Matty started to feel a lot better. Or that was until he got a tobacco craving and his usual security wasn't around to safely take him to where he needed. It hit Matty all over again then that he couldn't just go and have a fag in peace, he needed security, how depressing.

"Where's Mark?" He huffs like a little kid, the craving becoming an annoying itch he needs to scratch the more he looks around and can't find his security.

Ross is busy on his phone, so he barely looks up and shrugs to say, "Dunno."

An eye roll is all Matty offers the bassist, and then goes around the room and the hallways asking, "Anyone seen Mark? I wanna go for a smoke."

There is only so much the singer can go with getting the same negative response, especially since that irritation from earlier was creeping back on him and he was well aware of it. Matty ends up leaving their room just to see if the big man was standing guard outside, but unfortunately luck still isn't on his side as Mark's nowhere to be found.

With quick fingers, he messages Mark. Clear and straight to the point.

Mark, where you at man???

Wanna go for a smoke but you're not here to serve and protect?!?!?!!

Matty paces up and down the hall as he waits for an answer. He almost starts counting down the seconds it takes Mark to say something back after a few minutes, but before he can start cursing out to the wind, his phone pings in his hand.

Sorry Matty, had to go back to the hotel. Upset stomach from lunch, ain't a pretty sight.

He wants to pull the hair out of his scalp when reading that, groaning out loud at the news. There is no pun intended since his fingers move quicker than his thoughts when he replies: Shit man. 

Mark has seen Matty grow up basically, and they are so far beyond regular human boundaries by now that it is a no-brainer for Matty to dial his phone number and wait for the big man to answer, even if he's in the bathroom.

Worried, the singer asks, "You okay mate?"

Mark very quickly lets out in that neutral tone he always uses, "Not really Matty. In a lot of pain."

"You on the shitter?" Matty snorts out at the end, still finding a bit of comedy in the situation.

He hears the man sigh loudly before scolding him, "You're a little shit. You've got Tim with you, I'll see you tomorrow."

Matty cackles at Mark's loss of patience, but he doesn't let him go without saying, "Jokes aside, I hope you're alright mate." Of course, as the kid he is, he cannot hold back from adding, "I'll buy you a new pair of pants for tomorrow."

"Get gone, you little fucker," Mark hisses down the line, making Matty erupt in a string of silly giggles. Hearing Matty's laughter always gets Mark, so he chuckles lightly before wishing the lad, "Good luck."

Mark definitely regrets being a nice person when all Matty does is quip back with, "Good luck on the shitter." The last that Matty hears on the phone is a loud huff that makes him cackle again, the echo of his laughter so loud in the empty halls that he misses any sound coming from the other side of the line before Mark hangs up.

Finding Mark's situation so hilarious lifts Matty's spirits, so he goes back into their greenroom with a loopy smile. Everyone is sort of shocked to see him smiling again, but they don't question it since they need him in the best of moods for the show.

Still craving a smoke though, Matty decides that instead of being a responsible adult and going to find Tim, he gathers the lads and takes the spliffs that George has so deftly rolled from the coffee table. Instead of being hounded outside and risking the full show going to shit, they opt for smoking into the vent of the bathroom ceiling in hopes that the smoke alarm doesn't go off. Matty can't help but also think that this is excellent material for A Theoretical Performance of an Intimate Moment so he asks Jordan to start filming too which ends up with the chosen few laughing loudly at the shit the singer spews from his mouth without any prompting.

Thankfully no fire alarm was sounded during the fun pastime, but each and every one of them smoking weed in the bathroom almost pulled a Mark and shat themselves when there was a loud knock on their greenroom door. Never had a spliff been put out faster than that moment, which when Matty, George, and Jordan all head back out to the lounge area to see it's only Denise and Lincoln at the door there's a silent groan for wasting the rest of a good smoke.

All that being said, the singer can't be annoyed seeing how happy his Mum currently looks as she makes Ross get up and give her a cuddle after she lets go of Adam. Once released from the hug, Denise turns to see the faint smile on Matty's face and declares it a far better state than what Adam told her it had been before. So she grins brightly and almost shouts, "Thank goodness you lot have got him in a better mood."

"You alright Mum?" Matty asks as he walks up to her and Lincoln.

"Good, thanks chick." Denise hums, and as she hugs her son, she adds, "You look like you're having fun."

Matty giggles, his eyes closing slightly as he gives her a squeeze, "Yeah it's been funny."

George is obviously the next target for Denise's hugs, but as the gentle giant hugs her, he realises his mistake when she all but freezes in his arms. He's not closed or moved away from the toilet door. Her keen sense of smell means that George gets a slap on the chest and a frown as she scolds both him, her son, and the photographer, "Have you boys been smoking weed in here?!"

Laughter fills the room then and despite the small plea from their surrogate mother to again quit smoking both nicotine and weed, they all fall into easy habits of entertaining each other. It was just like being back at the Healy Household back in the day. Denise mothering them and asking if they'd eaten, followed by random anecdotes, and tons of laughter.

That is only interrupted when Denise's nosy self sees a familiar phone lighting up with a picture of what she hopes will be her gorgeous daughter in law. So she announces, "Matt, your phone is ringing," from the other side of the room and holds up the screen so he can see it is you that is calling.

Matty practically runs for the phone, making everyone laugh. Ross teasing loudly, "Absolutely whipped!"

"Damn right," Matty replies proudly as he gets a hold of his phone, and then leaves to the adjacent bathroom to answer. "Baby, hey!" He greets you loud and excitedly.

You can hear the smile on his voice, and it fully melts your heart. "Hiya Matty, how's your day been?"

"Can't lie baby it's not been great, but I feel a lot better now. Especially because now I get to hear your voice." He wishes he could say see your face, but you have oddly not facetimed him this time; though, he is not complaining at all.

He hears you cooing and his cheeks burn at the sound, "You're so cute, I missed you lots today."

"Never more than I miss you," He is quick to refute because hearing you through the phone is definitely making the void in his chest grow. He wants you there with him so badly and very selfishly.

"I beg to differ," You quip back. Matty hums funnily and it makes you giggle as he continues, "Let's agree to disagree because we'll be at it all night, how was your day baby?"

"Really good thanks, it was nice being all dressed up for it. The after party carpet is stunning this year, like a royal blue." And his face lights up when you add, "I felt like a bit of a princess in my dress."

He smiles when hearing that, and he's so excited to get the breath knocked out from his chest at the sight of you, "I'm sure you'll look like one. I can't wait to see you in it." But knowing you won't give him more details on your attire for tomorrow, he instead asks, "What are you up to now?"

"I'm in a taxi heading back to the hotel to watch SNL," You explain, but before he can ask why you're going back on your own, you continue, "Amelia's gone out with a few of the crew for some drinks but I wanted to get back, got scared I was gonna miss the start of it."

He isn't fond of you missing out on some fun to watch a shit comedy show that will only have them on for a total of eight minutes. So he lets you know just that, "Baby you should go out. It's American drivel, and you've heard the songs a hundred times before."

"I'm watching it Matty, I'm not missing seeing you on TV." You say seriously, but Matty can hear your smile as he listens to you all but coo, "It's not every day you get to see your boyfriend on TV." The tone you use to say that makes him chuckle lightly.

"That's cute but I know you're watching for Ross," Matty jokes and he's delighted when he hears your snort of laughter followed quickly by a giggle.

You sigh happily, "You know me so well." And in your head, you can clearly see him shrugging with a smug look on his face when he replies, "I try."

"Yeah, I know you do." You grin, your tongue swiping over your top lip as if to try and hide just how much this man makes you smile and feel all gooey inside. 

Just as you're realising you have absolutely no need to keep your smile to yourself, your call is unfortunately interrupted by another knock on the greenroom door. Matty opens the bathroom door and stands in the doorway to keep in check with what's happening. You hear the commotion on Matty's end of the phone, somebody scrambling to let someone in, and once they do, you don't quite hear what's said now the room has gone quiet but from the mere reaction once the chatter starts again, it's easy to tell they were just called to set.

Matty sighs looking at his watch seeing that it's now 11:46pm and he's just beyond gutted he won't get a chance to speak to you for longer. He's disappointed to say the least and you can tell in his tone when he says, "They're calling us to go baby, I'm sorry." Matty takes a seat on the leather sofa quickly, using his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear so he can multi-task and put his shoes on as you finish up your conversation. 

"Why are you sorry?" You laugh a little, "You should be excited. In fact, you best be excited because I don't want to see you half-hearting it on TV, Matty."

"You really are my toughest critic." Matty says as the room starts buzzing around him with everyone getting their stuff together. But even as he has his shoes on ready to go, he makes no effort to move.

The singer stays seated, nodding and holding his finger up to people trying to make him get a move on, but he's not shortening the already limited time he has talking to you for the sake of an extra minute of a producer telling him what to do. And he's glad he didn't just end the call because he gets to hear your giggle through the phone and he can picture you nodding in your taxi as you say, "Well of course, I can't have you ruining my reputation... I need America to be swooning at my boyfriend's stunning voice."

"Don't forget my life changing good looks." Matty can't help but sarcastically add.

"Oh, I could never." Your boyfriend can tell that you're grinning as you say that, but you do get a touch serious when you continue, "Have the best time okay, and I'll be watching every minute, so I want you to know that I'm there with you every second of the way."

"Thank you, needed that... and to hear your voice again before doing this." Matty's sure his heart just grew in size at your words. He's positively obsessed with you, and he can't wait for the night to be over so he can be another day closer to having you back by his side.

"Miss you so much baby." Your boyfriend tells you and he once again gets the urge to just let those three words slip from his lips.

Needless to say, you're in the exact same predicament, wanting so much to express your love for him but stopping yourself is almost painful. "I miss you too baby..." Is what you settle for, but Matty can hear exactly what you mean when you softly whisper, "Obsessed with you." like it pains you to not say what you actually wish to.

A smile lights up your boyfriend's face hearing those words though, and he gently repeats them back to you, "Obsessed with you too."

You hear your boyfriend's name get called then, and a quick, "I'm coming." falling from his lips, so you know it's really time for him to go. So you manage to quickly add, "Dance for me baby."

"Promise," Matty grins, "I'll call you after the show."

"Can't wait." You smile, and just as you're both about to bid each other farewell, another question falls from your lips, almost in a panic, "Wait, you didn't slick your hair back, did you?"

Your boyfriend lets out a loud laugh at that, knowing by now just how important his hair is to you. But instead of answering you, he leaves you with, "Guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Almost offended he won't tell you, you're about to scold him, "Matty." but he doesn't leave you the chance to. "Bye baby." Matty giggles, and he only puts the phone down once he hears you laugh again and say your own, "Byeeee."

When everyone makes it to set, the producer gives everyone another overview of how the night will go and the schedule that needs to be stuck to. The band can't help but be thankful that they aren't doing the sketches too because it means a much simpler night for them, with only two songs to play, one at 20 mins into the show and the other at 40 minutes.

The show begins without a hitch, Jenna Ortega completing her monologue without any hiccups and it lands well with the audience so Matty thinks that the writers should be proud of themselves for doing their job correctly. The sketches also seem to go okay and before he even knows it, Matty is being ushered onto the stage to take their places and get their instruments all ready.

He can feel the audience watching wait for the adverts to finish so they can begin and he gears himself up as he would before every show. A few playful words with the other boys, a few bounces on the spot and Matty's ready and in the right zone to entertain. He has to deliver for you, put on a show for you that will make you want to call him as soon as he can get back to his phone.

Thinking about your reaction makes him feel goofy and playful, like he wants to dance enough that he'll have you giggling for an hour about it on FaceTime. Matty can't help but smile at the mere thought of seeing and hearing you so happy, so to please only you that little bit more he twists a few strands of his hair around his finger so his curls really are on show for you, and he hopes you'll be happy with the result.

Before he can do anything else, the runners all start scrambling back behind the camera, the producers ensuring Jenna is in the correct spot to introduce them and the lights are lowered as he and the band take their position. There's the ten second countdown back from the adverts and then after hearing the actress say, "Ladies and gentlemen, The 1975." the song begins.

The familiar guitar riff fills the room, and the singer falls into his performance easily. The joy the music fills him with shows on his face and he can feel that the energy lifts in the room, and he feels lighter when he sees the smiles on people's faces as he looks around the small audience in front of him.

He can see fans in their merch, ones he recognises and new faces he doesn't but most of all he's just feeling the music and trying to be as flamboyant and as playful as possible as you are still in the forefront of his mind. He's playful as he sings, changing his voice to make this performance that little bit different from the other times he's sang I'm In Love With You on the tours, and he's doing it because you're all he has in mind. How can Matty not be happy and dance around whilst he sings a song about being in love when he knows the woman he's madly in love with is watching?

When the song reaches the first chorus Matty can't help but notice movement in the top right hand corner of the room, and he almost frowns seeing what the open door reveals. The singer looks to the top row of the seats facing them, and sees his Mum and her husband wondering in late but they are dancing as he sings the song which almost makes him chuckle. They stay where they are though and make no effort to find their seat and Matty can't think why but he tries to pay less attention to them and focus on performing.

Playful is the only way the singer could describe how he's performing, and ultimately feeling in this moment. He's putting on his show for you, as promised and he hopes you're loving every second as he's well aware how much him performing affects you and makes you happy. And there's nothing more that Matty ever wants to do than be the cause of your happiness.

Just thinking about your reaction when he comes to LA to surprise you in the morning, he absolutely cannot wait for. He's dying to feel you in his arms again, to feel your kisses on his skin, the thought absolutely electrifies him. This hour of his life can't go quick enough, and as soon as he's performed Oh Caroline later he's running back to the green room to grab his shit and then he'll be on the plane before he knows it. And considering the singer hates flying, he's never been so excited to fly across a country in his life.

The top right corner of the room catches the singer's eye again just as the door opens again revealing Mark stepping into the room. Matty has to hold back a frown seeing his security guard walk into the room considering he was meant to be on the toilet back at the hotel. Still confused, he lets his eyes linger on his Mum now saying a quick hello to Mark, but it's when the singer notices that his security is holding the door open for someone. And when that someone walks in, Matty almost stops breathing.

You are the person that walks out through the door, you're there in your jeans and your Drive Like I Do hoodie, tote bag filled to the brim on your shoulder and you all but throw it to the floor, your bright eyes never leaving the band you start singing along to the second chorus. Matty can't help the giggle that falls from his lips as he sings, and he has to bat away the tears that threaten to spring to his eyes.

His heart is thundering seeing that it's really you there in front of him, singing the words to his own song back to him. You're here, in New York, when you should be thousands of miles away. You're here, dancing with his Mum, supporting him, smiling and blowing kisses at him.

Matty's heart can't take much more, so he just leaves it all in his performance, and knowing the bridge (your favourite bit of the song) is about to come up, Matty decides to push himself. The one thing the producers told him was no swearing in the song, which considering the show airs after 12am seems really fucking pathetic but thankfully Matty remembers and flicks his face away from the microphone as the words he usually sing start to come out.

His eyes focus on you, giggling at the way his curls land on his face, but Matty can't stop himself from doing what he's about to. As he sings, "It's like one, two, yeah. I'm in love with you." on the you Matty changes to falsetto and at the same time he points up to the love of his life who is dancing along and singing the lyrics right back at him.

The singer sees you grinning and you hug yourself for a second, your hand going over your heart before you lift that hand to your lips and blow a kiss down to him. It's needless to say the tingles Matty can feel throughout his body at that moment is nothing to do with the adrenaline rush of singing live. It's all you, and all of the emotions you evoke in his body waking back up now you're in front of him again making him feel like he's floating on air.

The rest of the song goes by in a blur, him falling in step with Adam and Ross as they simultaneously sway side to side to the beat of the song. At one point he turns around to George to keep in time with the music but Matty only does that so the cameras can't see just how stupidly big his smile has got. Making eye contact with his best friend doesn't even ground him again though because George has a smile on his face too, along with a knowing grin.

When Matty raises his eyebrows slightly, the drummer easily picks up on the silent question of, You knew she was coming? And from the the casual little shrug and smile from the drummer, the singer knows his best friend well enough to hear the smug, Of course I fucking did. Deciding that he would deal with his best mate's little betrayal later, Matty just shakes his head faking disapproval and turns himself back around towards the cameras and audience, but his gaze can't help but find its way up to you once more as the outro wraps up.

The singer tries to hold himself together, and not seem jittery or eager to leave the stage as he takes in the audience's applause and he manages to tear his eyes from you to smile and graciously accept the cheers for his band. The 5 seconds in which he takes a short bow seems to drag on for half a lifetime when all he wants to do is rid himself of his guitar and wrap his arms around you, but the calm and collected facade changes as soon as he hears, "And we're off air."

Turning quickly to put his guitar down, Matty gives a quick thumbs up to Polly and Jamie before nodding to the rest of the band. But before they can even smile back at him, Matty turns and gives the audience another wave before he jogs off stage towards the double fire exit door knowing he'd find his way to you. And the singer is certain that this is the only time that he's ever been thankful that Americans have adverts every five minutes because he's never moved faster in his life.

And suddenly he's so grateful he's been stuck in this studio for a week, because he knows these corridors like the back of his hand at this point. Yes, he's aware he must look like a mad man, running through the halls in a suit like he's a btec James Bond, but nothing and no one will keep him from finding you in the next minute.

Your boyfriend is so glad that you seem to be on the same wavelength as him because when Matty turns his next corner, he sees you exit from the door he saw you enter when he was on stage. He genuinely thinks his heart skips a beat when your eyes meet, never ever have you looked so angelic than right now.

Despite just being in mundane clothes, you look like you're absolutely glowing. The smile on your gorgeous face is huge and the way you start sprinting towards him is enough confirmation that you're just as down bad for him as he is of you. And the way you clash together like bullets finally hitting their intended targets takes the breath from you both, but the momentum and adrenaline has Matty having to pick you up to spin you so you can both slow down.

There's a small giggle that slips from your lips as your arms tighten around Matty's neck which almost has the man's knees giving out, he's missed the sound of that laugh in his ear so very much. His hold around your waist only tightens as he slows his spinning as you press excited kisses to his neck as you continue to hug him until your feet hit the floor again.

It's almost like Matty's in a daze when he releases you just enough so you can each pull back and see each other's faces properly. He can see the shine in your eyes much like you can see the same in his when he cups both sides of your face and asks in utter shock and disbelief, "What are you doing here?!"

The smile that brightens your stunning face even more has Matty's heart almost bursting from his chest. Your hand comes to rest over one of his that covers your cheek as you say, "I told you, I couldn't miss this."

"Baby." Matty sighs in joy, and he doesn't have it in him to stop himself from quickly pressing his lips to yours. The peck is only short because he can't stop himself from saying, "I can't believe you're here."

You giggle again at that, your own heart beating out of your chest entirely at the fact you're back in the arms of the man you love. Deciding you need to steal another peck from those pretty lips of his, you quickly do so before you explain, "I was meant to be here so much earlier but the flight got delayed."

You trap Matty into another crushing hug when you as you elaborate, "Was supposed to be at the meal earlier, but clearly it wasn't meant to be."

As gutting as that news is, Matty can't bring himself to care that the initial plans for the day didn't go as planned. He believes that showing up how you just did made the surprise so much better because he had absolutely no inkling that you'd planned this. Not when you have the biggest gig of your life in less than 24 hours... Wait. 

"But what about the dress rehearsal?" Matty starts to panic, pulling back from the hug so he can look at your face as he realises what you're putting at risk by being here in front of him, "Baby, what about the Oscars?"

"Dress rehearsal was this morning," You put his mind at ease and explain, "It's all done and there was nothing to do for the rest of the day or tomorrow until we have to watch the awards in the evening." You chuckle as you tell him, "I've been trying to get on a flight all afternoon."

"I can't believe you've flown to New York for this shit show when it's the biggest day of your life tomorrow." Matty can't help but run a hand through his hair, his other one still on your waist as he can't let you go at all. "God baby, you're so perfect but so silly at the same time."

Shrugging as you laugh and nod, accepting the truth as it slips from his lips but you have no regrets. Being back in his arms is a dream come true. "I just couldn't miss this." You tell him as you bury your head into his neck again, hugging him tightly. You're sure at this point you could get some sort of high just from inhaling his aftershave, it might be your favourite scent ever. Squeezing him tightly you admit, "And I missed you so much."

"I missed you more," Matty promises as he kisses the side of your head as he hugs you back.

If there was any doubt in either of your minds that you were each other's soulmates, this would have confirmed it. This moment of just utter euphoria from being back in each other's arms, but an overwhelming sense of peace washes through you also. You imagine this is the closest you'll get to heaven on earth, and you're so lucky you've found it.

Pulling back from the hug, you look into those gorgeous brown eyes as you say, "Impossi-" but your words are taken from you when your boyfriend's lips find your own again. This time it's not rushed, if anything, it's entirely savoured. Matty gently rests his index finger under your chin and tilts your head up slightly so he has you exactly where he wants you and you're happy to give in completely.

He kisses you like he can't get enough, his hold so tight like you might disappear and you're certain you fall even further in love with him in this moment. Matty's hums against your lips as you let your hand slide up into the back of his curly hair. You can't help but grab ahold of his tie with your other hand to keep him from going anywhere. Something that makes Matty smile into the kiss and subsequently you do as well but you don't let him get away. Your lips find each other over and over, both releasing little pleased hums here and there just to further show how much you love the sensation.

You've missed this. You've missed how at home you feel in his arms, and how his kisses make you feel like the world has ignited around you. The way your heart yearns to be close to his says it all, you couldn't be apart for a week without needing to experience him again.

Your kiss turns into a few longer ones, which eventually shifts to the both of you giggling as you steal pecks from one another. Eventually your forehead rests against his and your gorgeous boyfriend gives you a soft Eskimo kiss which makes your heart stutter. A gentle giggle leaves your lips, you don't even hesitate with what you're about to declare, "I-"

"Matty!" A yell from down the corridor briefly interrupts the moment, and you don't have to look to know it's George.

This may be the first and only time you marginally dislike George Daniel for stealing the moment you were about to tell Matty that you love him. Equally though, when it happens you want it to be grander than in a random back corridor in a studio. But emotions are getting the better of you, and you feel it so so deeply now, you don't want to keep it to yourself for much longer.

Your boyfriend turns towards his best mate and hugs you into his chest as the both of you look down the corridor. The gentle giant waves at you with a smile on his lips but doesn't come any closer, instead he just tells Matty, "They need us to go over something really quickly in the green room."

"Give me two minutes G." Your boyfriend says as he holds you that bit tighter.

George nods, and then his eyes move to you and his smile gets that bit bigger as he says, "Good to see you Y/N/N."

"And you George." You grin, the smile you share is a knowing one, because he was the one you told first that you were making the trip over. 

The drummer turns on his heel, briefly nodding to Matty in confirmation of those two minutes he gave him. And your boyfriend certainly makes the most of those two minutes. Arms wrap tighter around your waist and before you even realise you're hoisted into the air and span around which makes a loud giggle fall from your lips, and the joy that's on Matty's face has you spellbound. Stealing a few more kisses from the curly haired brunette, you don't want to let him go just yet so you make the most of every second.

When your feet return to the ground, you tell Matty that you're going to make the most of being at SNL and head into the studio again to finish watching the sketches with Denise and Lincoln. Matty nods, silently understanding that you don't want to feel in the way by going back to the green room with him when there's going to be a meeting of sorts, and that you may as well make the most of being here by seeing the show.

But your boyfriend has to ask, "How long has my Mum known?"

"Bless your Mum has been sorting everything out for me," You chuckle, "I told George but when he said that your Mum was coming I started liaising with her so you didn't get suspicious of George."

Matty pulls a face which screams betrayal as he asks you, "Who else has been hiding things from me? George, me Mum...You're all sneaky."

"Mark wasn't on the shitter," You laugh before divulging, "He was getting me from the airport." Overhearing that conversation in the car made you giggle, it was an effort not to tell him earlier when you were on the phone faking you were on the way back to your hotel in a taxi. You're just glad the roads here are as busy as the ones in LA so the background noise didn't give you away.

Matty scoffs at the news and shakes his head, "I'm surrounded by snakes." You just hum and nod before you lean in to kiss him once more. And you're certain your two minutes have long since passed when you eventually bid each other a brief goodbye and you head back into the studio as silently as you can.

The show seemed to pass by in a flash, the cringe of the sketches weren't as bad as when you were in the room watching them compared to when watching on TV so you found yourself having fun. But even more so when you got to dance with Denise again when the band came back out and performed Oh Caroline.

The gorgeous song was over before you knew it and you knew that there were only a few more sketches before the end of the show, so you were making the most of them until someone familiar took the free seat beside you. Before you can even congratulate him on a good show he's already cupped your face and leant in to kiss you cheek which just makes it so your smile is a permanent fixture upon your face. Matty scoots his chair as close to yours as humanly possible and he crosses his legs as he takes your hand and intertwines your fingers.

The sketches aren't as captivating as the way Matty's thumb strokes the back of your hand, you just end up watching him. You've missed the tiny things about him, like how he bounces his foot slightly as he watches the show, his small tell that he's not quite as comfortable as he makes out to be. You've missed the way he twists that front curl around his finger again absentmindedly as the world passes him by. You've missed everything about the gorgeous man beside you, but mostly, the overwhelming feeling of home he brings you. You lean your head down on his shoulder and smile brightly as you take a deep breath. There's no place you'd rather be than by this man's side, and you squeeze his hand a little to try and somehow silently convey that.

Feeling a gentle kiss being placed on top of your head adds to it even more, and when he leans his head down against yours you hear Matty whisper, just loud enough for you to hear over the sketch, "I'm so glad you're here."

Your heart flutters at that but even more so when he picks up your adjoined hands and kisses the back of yours. God, you love him so much. You both happy lose yourselves in each other's presence as you watch possibly the only decent sketch on this programme. The Weekend Update has both you and Matty in stitches laughing and you find that the laughter lingers even when they go into an advert break for the millionth time this evening.

A yawn is the reason your laughter stops which Matty pouts at and gently smiles, "You tired Baby?"

Nodding in confirmation, you also decide to tell him, "I'm gonna have to get the earliest flight in the morning. I need to be back in LA at the earliest opportunity, just to ease my mind." Because God only knows how you've thought about every way in which you might not get back to LA on time. But you're looking on the positive side, you're going to be fine and you'll get back with plenty of time to spare.

"I got you covered Baby," Matty grins, and he gives your hand another squeeze, "I was flying out right after this anyway."

Mark quickly taps your boyfriend on your shoulder to tell him he's needed back on set for the closing part of the show and you receive the loveliest kiss on the cheek before your boyfriend heads backstage. Five minutes later you're happily whooping and cheering for your favourite band as everyone is on set closing up the show.

And as soon as wrap is called, Denise and Lincoln show you the way back towards the lads greenroom and you're greeted with big smiles by everyone. Polly hugs you first, followed by Adam, Jamie, and George. But as Matty attempts to give you another hug, Ross swoops in and hugs you, taking you off your feet as he spins you around a little. He as you laughing in his arms as you hug him back, but the sheer surprise of it has you dizzy once your feet return to the ground.

Giggling, you tell him, "Missed you guys." And you look around them with nothing but love in your heart. They truly feel like a second family even after such a short amount of time. You can't believe that you first met these people just a handful of months ago, and now they aren't just your favourite musicians, they are actually your friends. And one is your boyfriend... You truly can't believe your luck.

"Never more than we miss you." Ross hugs you into his chest and you giggle at that.

Even more so when you see Matty is now perching on the arm of the settee and he's watching you and the bassist like a hawk, knowing his mate is trying to keep you all to himself to get under his skin. You feed into it though by squeezing Ross' waist tighter as you counter, "You'd be surprised, I've had years of longing for you all don't forget."

"Don't we know it." Matty chuckles and the lads and Denise laugh.

But Ross briefly lets you go so he can look down at you and he holds your shoulders as he grins, "And we all know I was your favourite."

Your smile matches his as you all but giggle, "Only because Matty was with Flo at the time." The room erupts in laughter then and the bassist quickly leans down and kisses your cheek before you go and take the seat beside where Matty is perching. Your boyfriend's own smile lingers for a while before he slides himself down into your lap and cuddles himself against you.

Both of you being entirely soppy, resting your head against each other, your arm moving over his waist as he presses his kisses to your temple, then cheek, then your lips. And you savour them all, stealing another kiss from those pillowy lips of his until you pull away feeling a little self conscious as there are way too many eyes in this room.

It's all a bit chaotic by the time everyone packs their stuff up. And by the time you're all ready to leave the room it's close to 2:30am. Denise and Lincoln wished you well before heading back to their hotel about 45 minutes ago and you're now ready to do the same, feeling completely exhausted after a long day. Matty smiles at you when you release a tired yawn, and he throws his arm around your shoulder to pull you into his body as he begins to drag his suitcase along with you towards the green room door. Everyone is loitering with their cases though so the both of you pause, waiting for the others to get their shit together.

It seems that everyone around you is so manic, that your quiet conversation goes relatively unheard. Matty turns towards you and smiles, "Let's go to the airport."

"What?" Your eyes go a little wide, "Like right now?"

"Right now." Matty nods with a grin. You shake your head a little, mostly confused because, "There aren't any planes to LA at this time, Matty."

"There are," He chuckles, "If you have a private one, and thankfully I have a friend who's not using his right now."

Your jaw falls open, and Matty can't help but glance at those pretty lips of yours. It takes everything in him not to kiss them. "Matty, we can't." You shake your head. No way can you impose like that. Taking a private jet just to benefit yourself, it's something from a story, not something you can actually do.

"We can and we are doing," Your boyfriend nods and smiles. And you know by the way he's looking at you that he's not taking no for an answer. You smile sweetly at him. Afterwards, you notice his eyes dart around the room, "Come on, where's your case?"

"Didn't bring a case." You shake your head, just patting the tote that's on your shoulder. "Didn't think there'd be much point when we haven't seen each other in over a week."

A cheeky knowing smirk tugs at your lips as you whisper, "Pyjamas wouldn't be needed, would they?" Matty's eyes darken a little at that, looking at you like he could devour you at any given second now. But he just lets his arm slip around your waist, "Oh, I'm going to be such a bad friend."

"What?" You frown, asking curiously, "Why?" Before Matty can respond, the room gets loud again as everyone starts moving into the hallway. Shouts about an afterparty in a different hotel are mentioned, everyone shouting who's coming and who's driving with who takes your attention as you turn to face the door again.

But Matty wraps his arms around your waist from behind you, pulling you back into his chest. Your heart thuds at the feeling but what makes it skip a beat is when you feel his smirk against your ear as he whispers, "I'm going to shag you on the plane."

~*~*~*~ Oscars Day ~*~*~*~

You had gone to a big hotel suite to get ready for the Oscars Vanity Fair After Party with Amelia, watching the red carpet as you got your makeup and hair done. It felt so odd to be pampered while feeling so incredibly nervous inside, because the drag of the straightener along your hair kept making your eyelids flutter shut, but your stomach kept doing somersaults and making you nauseous.

It kept making you nostalgic to look to your side and see Amelia getting ready next to you, sipping a Diet Coke as you both watched the red carpet like you have been doing together for years. This time though you're both being glammed up as you do so, about to meet those in attendance, this time just on the other carpet, maybe next year you'll be lucky enough to do the preshow one.

Thankfully you did sleep on the plane back to LA, so your make up artist didn't tell you off for bags under your eyes. And considering you spent the night and day beside Matty, you felt so well rested and happy that up until getting here you weren't too nervous. But now the clock is counting down and the anxiousness has crept back in.

It takes the two hours of the red carpet and a little into the ceremony for you and Amelia to be fully ready and prepared for the night. Once you're ready to be taken over to the Vanity Fair carpet, you have just under half an hour going around the massive hotel suite to take loads of pictures while you listen to the important stuff happening in the background in case any new questions could be asked to your guests on the carpet.

When you step out of the suite, the door closing behind you kick-starts a new round of nerves, making you grab your best friend's hand tightly. Amelia looks at you and you screech in unison as you head to the lifts. You have no idea how you're gonna keep from shaking like a wet dog on the actual carpet, but you hope that you manage to settle in time.

When the lift doors open at the lobby, you realise you had completely forgotten about a certain someone waiting for you there. Matty's eyes are gleaming when they catch you walking his way. He can't help but think that you look so fucking unreal, and his hand comes over his chest as if clutching it would stop it from beating erratically.

Your boyfriend briefly allows himself to look at Amelia, seeing that she's looking lovely in a sleek black dress with a curved neckline trailing up her shoulder to cover one of her arms. But regardless of your best friend's beauty, Matty is absolutely spellbound by yours.

You're walking towards him in a sparkly rouge v-neck dress which accentuates all of your stunning features. The neckline shows off your boobs in the most drool worthy way, it takes effort for Matty's eyes not to linger for too long. Not to mention the way you just look like a Disney princess, looking as gorgeous as ever, it's almost otherworldly. Even your skin has a sparkle to it.

"Oh my..." You hear him mutter as you finally reach him, but his arm snakes around your waist and pulls you in to kiss you. "Lipstick!" You manage to mumble against his lips, and when he pulls back, you laugh as you wipe the remnants of mauve off his lips.

Matty doesn't let go of you, nor stop giving you compliments the whole way to the venue. He's clutching you so tightly, you're blushing the entire time. Amelia keeps giggling and pointing out how down bad he is for you, to which he always proudly replies, "Fuck yes, I am."

When you get to the venue it's not long before showtime, so you leave the little backstage dressing room Vanity Fair gave you fairly quickly, but it feels almost painful to leave Matty behind. Before leaving though, you give your boyfriend a kiss (which you had been refusing all the way there for the sake of your lipstick), and he promises he will be all dressed up and ready for you by the time you're back.

You're a little jealous he can stay in his comfies for a bit longer than you, but the show must go on. So with lots of words of encouragement, Matty bids both you and your best friend good luck and goodbye before you head over to the corner of the iconic carpet Vanity Fair has set up for you.

You're so nervous seeing all the new faces walk past and up to you, but it's also just so much fun seeing familiar faces like Pedro Pascal and Sabrina Carpenter. There is a bit of pressure on you and your best friend since these interviews are happening on a TikTok live, but having her doing it with you makes it so much easier. You are just bouncing off each other, asking random and funny questions to throw your guests off and get good comedic moments.

Your faces light up when you and Amelia stop your chat once you see Paul Mescal from afar bowing to the two of you. You wave him over eagerly and he excuses his way over to you, grabbing the mic off a staff member helping your production, and stopping right in front of you.

Amelia chuckles, immediately pointing out Paul's actions, "I saw you bowing to us."

"From up there," Paul snorts at himself. You put on your best smirk and act smug as you reply, "Yeah, and we thought: thank you."

"You're welcome." Says the gorgeous man. He certainly looks the part of the heartthrob tonight. The black trousers with the white blazer and red flower pinned to his lapel. Since the ceremony has finished though he's swapped the shirt and bow tie for a white vest, making for a more casual look, but still very dashing.

Amelia bows to him as she says, "My king." You laugh to yourself and follow Amelia's bow, and just about you're standing back straight, Paul reciprocates with another bow, "My queens." You truly don't know how the both of you fight that flustered blush from your faces. Yeah, you may be taken, but you're only human.

"So what mood are you in? Are you in a party mood?" Amelia asks Paul, going straight back into interviewer mode. Paul thinks about his answer for a second, "I'm in a... Yeah, I think I'm in a party mood."

Amelia quirks, "Yeah?" And you follow with a silly question that you thought would be interesting for tonight, "Have you ever danced on a table?" Paul shakes his head but firmly states, "I'm gonna do that tonight." You and your best friend approve in unison, "Yeah!"

"I'm gonna dance on a table tonight."

Amelia is satisfied with Paul's decision so she continues onto another question, "Have you ever been-" But Paul cuts her inquiry short to put forward one of his own, "Are there any tables in there?"

You shrug and honestly say, "Dunno, we've never been." Your bluntness makes you all snort at the same time, enjoying your novelty in these types of events all together.

Amelia waves it off, like she's got the situation under control and swiftly says, "We'll get a table for you." Mimicking talking to someone on some earbud intercom, you say, "Excuse me, can we please get a table for Paul Mescal to dance on?"

Paul finds himself amused at you two, playing onto your joke with a cheeky grin, "Quick. Pronto." You click your tongue, "We've got you covered, Paul."

"You're here with your whole family right?" Amelia inquires after you saw his little sister Nell going in earlier. Paul nods, turning to look ahead at the carpet, "Yeah, I sent them in. They're in at the party and I'm waiting for-"

Amelia cuts in, playing into his presence with you rather than with his family, "And you had to come chat to us, obviously." He plays into it naturally, and it makes you smile, "I was like, I've got to do something really important. I've gotta chat to Amelia and Y/N."

You hum as you nod, "Yeah, it's really, really important." Amelia genuinely replies with, "We actually love chatting to you every time." And you love seeing Paul brighten up and reciprocate, "I love chatting to yous!"

"It's great," You grin.

Amelia, with her sudden changes of conversation as per usual, asks, "Do you identify as a heartthrob?"

"Do I?" Paul chuckles at the complete turn of direction in the chat, "Ermmmm... No, I don't identify as a heartthrob." You gasp, "You don't?" Amelia states quickly, "Well, we think you are."

"That's very nice of you to say," Paul replies rather shyly. And just for his sake, knowing that it will send him back into his shell if you two keep poking on his heartthrob states, Amelia goes, "Anyway, you've gotta go."

You have to bite your tongue not to burst out laughing. Even more so when Paul laughs but nods in agreement, "I've gotta go." You add to the joke, "You've reeeally gotta go."

"You're cool," Paul says wholeheartedly. You and your best friend quickly say the same back to him, because you truly believe it and he's one of your favourites, "You're cool."

Paul bids you farewell, "See ya!"

"Bye!" You wave with a big smile. Amelia quips before the Irish lad can leave, "I'll see you on the dancefloor."

"See you on the dancefloor," Paul says, and goes back to your early joke by adding, "On a table." You laugh, nodding in confirmation, "On a table, yup."

It's hard to wipe the smile that breaks on your face after that chat. Paul is one of the people you adore and you're so grateful to have met through your work, you love the friendship he has with you and Amelia, and it is a plus that he is such great friends with your boyfriend.

The thought of Matty makes you smile harder, becoming internally giddy at the prospect of finishing this interview section and finally getting to enjoy such a monumental night with the man that keeps your heart beating out of your chest.

Matty has been watching the interview on TikTok with a grin on his face and pride swelling his chest in the little backstage room you had been getting ready in earlier. Your boyfriend had been enjoying every bit of the interviews and laughing to himself like a fool, swooning over how beautiful you look, how much he loves seeing you smile and laugh, and just so incredibly ecstatic that you have gotten to this place in your career. He believes you deserve the entire universe, and he is so glad that you and Amelia are both getting the recognition you have always deserved.

Your boyfriend can see how happy you are at the moment, but it is perhaps just how bright your smile is that gives the next person to walk up to you the courage to be so upfront, and it makes Matty grow irate in a matter of seconds.

"Oh camera!" You point out in a gasp when an actor in a dark grey suit walks up to you, taking a disposable film camera from his pocket and turning it on. Both of you recognise the actor immediately. He's not an A-lister by any means but you've seen him in a few films so you're excited to meet someone new to bounce off. But almost immediately you know exactly what sort of man this one will turn out to be.

You hear his low hum against the mic before he says, "Yeah, pose for me."

Amelia and you pose for the camera, giving your best smiles and the flash blinds you slightly so you faintly see the lad pocketing it before properly grabbing the mic again. A smirk grows on the lad's face as he points out, "Taking pictures of the best moments tonight."

You want to giggle, and can't miss the chance to tease, "Oh, so we're a highlight then?" 

If he'd have just agreed with you and looked at your both genuinely as he said it, you may have found this interview very different. But instead, you absolutely don't miss the way that his eyes linger way too long on your breasts before his eyes finally reach yours. Accompanied by a wink which is aimed directly at you, he replies, "You definitely are, love."

From your dressing room, that look and comment earns Matty's first scoff of the night, and though he shouldn't, he hates the fact that you look a little flustered as you reply with a shy, "Oh, okay."

But what the camera isn't showing is that you're not flustered because this man is flirting with you. You're flustered because you feel uncomfortable being objectified so openly like that, and on camera too. Not to mention, you can keep spotting telltale signs that the actor in front of you is extremely drunk.

Before Amelia can come up with a way to save you, the lad (very stupidly if you were to ask Matty) questions, "What are yous doing?"

One of your brow quirks at the nature of the question, before you can properly think about it, you just repeat his question almost mockingly, "What are we doing?" Amelia almost instantly goes, "Interviewing you."

The actor nods, "Right." swaying slightly on his feet. You almost want to huff because he is giving you nothing, so you go ahead and fire him a bunch of questions hoping to wrap this interview soon, "So what are you doing in there? Where are you going? Dancefloor, crying in the bathroom...?"

But you're not counting on him continuing with his heavy flirting. He takes a step towards you, grabbing your hand and squeezing it as he leans in a little to smoulder at you, "I'm going wherever you're going."

Whiskey. Whiskey is what this man in front of you has been drinking, and you know because it's all you can smell on his breath. It takes an extraordinary amount of effort not to gag in front of him or live on the show. You try to turn him down without being so obvious, while also trying to keep up with your usual awkwardly flirty persona. You squeeze his hand before gently slipping it free so you can ask, wide eyed, "Oh, so you're dancing?"

The man's eyes wonder to your chest again and you feel a little ill as you can't help the sensation of being vulnerable. Almost like you can't stop this from happening without seeming like an absolute cow in front of millions online. The last thing you want to cause is a scene, especially at an event like this. "If you save me a few dances, I will definitely join you," The smirk that tugs further on the corners of his lips makes you squirm in your place.

You should be glad to have not been a witness to Matty's second scoff of the night which was followed by an eye roll, and a hissed, "Silly prick."

You dismiss the actor gently and subtly again, "We'll see how the dancefloor looks when we go in." But he doesn't relent in the slightest, "Oh I bet you look good on the dancefloor."

It makes you chuckle sarcastically, and you're so glad you can roll your eyes at his antics this time, "Nice pun, Turner."

Elbowing you softly, Amelia reminds you to try to be merry and flirt, so to your boyfriend's and your own dismay, you smirk as you flick your hair and quip back, "I do actually look good on the dancefloor." You swear the actor's voice drops an octave when he says, "Can't wait to see that up close." and you don't miss the way his eyes fall to your body again and lingers before meeting your eyes again. 

Hating that you're on a livestream and can't give Amelia a 'help me' glance is killing you, so you very awkwardly turn to your best friend and fully avoid the lad getting any ideas in his head by changing your own plans, "Think we're just gonna have some burgers actually."

"No dancing?" The actor tries again, smirk just glued to his face. Matty is fuming, wanting nothing more than to reach into the screen and slap that smirk off the guys face. He really isn't enjoying the fact that he won't stop staring at you, nor flirting with you. Not only that, but he also thinks the lad is a massive dickhead for fully ignoring Amelia next to you.

You shrug, languidly making eye contact again, "Depends who asks." He puffs his chest out as he says, "I'm asking."

Matty clutches his phone in a white knuckle grip.

Amelia quips into the conversation for what feels like the first time, "Which one of us are you asking?" But the actor doesn't even spare her a word, just intensely staring at you with fuck-me eyes that threaten to give you a bad case of the shivers.

Amelia shifts uncomfortably in her place, chuckling awkwardly before stating, "This might get a bit messy," knowing that your boyfriend is watching. Your very jealous and angry boyfriend who is very much tempted on going out to the carpet and decking the pretentious prick.

That need to break the actor's nose just peaks when he replies, "Hopefully."

You're at a loss for words, your mouth opening in shock. Amelia can only mutter a choked, "That's-" which gets lost in the wind for she has no clue what to actually say.

Luckily, the lad starts laughing loudly at your reactions, breaking the sudden awkward tension created and urging you to laugh with him just to leave the interview on a good spirited note. Amelia clears her throat and implicitly tells the lad it's time for him to go, "We saw some of your mates get in already, so we won't steal you any longer."

He gets the hint, but not with joy. His smirk falters and his shoulders fall, "Ah bummer." You give him the fakest smile as you say, "We'll see you inside." But it almost crumbles when he winks again and replies, "I'm really hoping you will."

Amelia tries to lighten the mood by joking about your plans, "Burger in hand." However, the actor is damn stubborn and continues to try and plan something with you, "We could have some burgers together, yeah." You stay quiet, letting Amelia take this one just so he knows that you're not even jokingly considering it, "Ooo, a picnic!"

When he looks at Amelia instead of you, your shoulders sag slightly in relief. Matty is seeing red though, he cannot fucking stand to see the lad's face any longer and even the harmless, "Sure, why not?" that he replies with, has the singer rolling his eyes and clenching his fists.

Amelia bids him farewell, "It was nice seeing you!"

"Likewise," he nods and waves as he returns the mic.

You smile big and bright, feeling finally free of your torment, "See ya'!"

And your boyfriend also feels relief starting to flood his system when the lad seems to turn away from you, but his anger is piqued yet again when the actor doesn't miss the chance of the goodbye to walk up far too close to you, hugging you by the waist and leaving a kiss on your cheek. Matty doesn't even note the fact that he does the same to say goodbye to Amelia, he's just furiously replaying in his head the way that his arms wrapped around you too easily and he was too slow and deliberate when planting his lips on the soft skin of your face.

What bothers him even more is the way you and Amelia giggle together once the lad is gone, as if you had enjoyed that. He doesn't want to keep on watching the livestream, and he has to remind himself that this is your job, but it doesn't make it any better.

It's ironic how that interview has made him feel just the exact way you're about to feel when you see who is about to walk into your little corner by the carpet. Dressed to the teeth in black, the woman in a high necked dress and wet look pixie cut steps in front of you.

"Halsey!" Amelia greets the singer all excitedly while you stand beside her trying your absolute best to put on your biggest smile and gather as much content as you can to appear as eager as your best friend.

But it is hard for you to formulate anything in your head that will allow you to make the interview good so you allow Amelia to take over for a little, that is until the woman unfortunately brings up the topic of dating. Halsey laughs a little as she looks between you both and says, "You've dated so many of my exes."

You hum, internally cringing but keeping a smile on your face. Thankfully, Amelia takes that one and says, "That is true. Wait, how many?"

"Erm..." Halsey trails off, cringing outwardly a little but making it playful by smiling, all while you feel like you've done something wrong. And you would hardly say two is 'so many'. You've only been on a chicken shop date with Matty and Yungblud.

Amelia realises her mistake and softly snorts, "Oh wait, okay, I know." To try not to seem too awkward about it, you chip in with a little joke that seems to also be the truth, "We all have the same type, love that."

"Yeah I know," Halsey widens her eyes to try and signify the awkwardness but at this point you can't quite tell if she's playing up to the fact the dates aren't real, or the fact that you're actually going out with Matty. The man she wrote many Tumblr blogs and poems about.

Amelia tries to lighten the situation by adding, "Damn, okay."

However, it is hard to keep it lighthearted when the singer says, "I'm sorry for you." The way she said it, and how she looked at you as she did made your stomach drop, so it is hard to reply with anything right away. It's harder to keep the smile on your face when she shows her true colours by saying shit like that as well.

"Yeah." Amelia says a little awkwardly at the same time as you go the other way and half laugh as you try to maintain your smile, "Oh, I'm quite alright."

"Maybe that's where we're going wrong somewhere on our chicken shop dates, me especially, is because we have the same type." Amelia keeps things jokey and playful as you try to get back into the swing of it after the shock the comment gave you.

"Imma give you some like real advice," she starts like she's about to give you two a TedTalk, "Yeah, that is where you're going wrong. Don't follow in my footsteps." She might see the way you can't hold your face from growing stoic and the quirk of your brows as if challenging her to continue.

You have quirky remarks ready to defend yourself, your previous dates, and especially your boyfriend. But thankfully the woman in front of you isn't as brave as she initially believed she was. The singer backtracks, "I'm just kidding, everyone is wonderful," but you're sure you can hear sarcasm as she sighs, "Everyone's amazing."

Amelia takes over for you yet again and jokingly attempts to make it obvious your dates are fake, "Everyone is wonderful, but like maybe we should change our type? Would you say maybe, not musicians?"

The singer, thankfully, takes her eyes off you to look up as she thinks, "Erm, well it depends what you're pivoting to because if you're pivoting to actors... also the same."

Remaining professional, you pitch back into the conversation with an easy smile as you chuckle, "Maybe just someone who's not going to be here tonight." She nods, looking between you both and saying, "You should find an accountant."

Amelia brightens up, "An accountant. You know what, that would also be a really useful thing."

"Yeah." The singer confirms. You hum, smiling but playing up to the joke as you say, "Maybe more useful than a lot of boyfriends."

The singer agrees again, "No, for sure," but backtracks again and tells you and your best friend, "No, you don't even need a boyfriend, you just need a therapist."

You can't help but snort, "Okay, cool." It's funny because if she's being a cow on purpose, this makes her look like such a petty bitch for saying this to you. If she's genuinely doesn't realise what she's saying though, it just makes her fucking stupid.

"A therapist," Halsey says again.

"Yeah. No, I could have another therapist," Amelia comments, "I have one at the moment, but I could double up." Halsey laughs at that one before joking along with you, "One to date, one to talk to." You cock your head in consideration, brows furrowing as you give her comment a thought, "Maybe yeah, maybe one to date."

She covers her face with one hand as she laughs softly at herself, "God, I'm giving terrible advice right now." You don't know how you refrain from raising your eyebrows and nodding in agreement. Instead you just mirror your best friend laughing.

Amelia is far too nice when replying, "No, you're giving the best advice."

"What kind of mood are you in tonight?" You bring the interview back to the default questions for the night, "Are you in the mood to party?" She considers the question and cocks her head before replying, "Yeah, I think so. This is kinda like a circus in the best way."

You nod because she is not wrong, "Okay." And Amelia agrees on it too, "Yeah." It feels like the tension has settled for a second, and it thankfully feels like this is the end of her interview. But, of course, you were too early in thanking superior forces for her leaving so fast because your heart drops as soon as she goes on to ask something you had long forgotten about.

"What word do I say wrong by the way?" Her challenging smirk is big on her face, the rise of her brows annoying you because it feels patronising. You immediately know what she's referring to but your brows furrow and you muster your best confused face as you quip, "Pardon?"

You swear you hear her scoff softly, giving you a roll of her eyes that most people would see as a joke but it just irritates you more, before adding, "On your date, you said that I say a word wrong? Lilac, was it?"

It sounds like she knows exactly which word she says wrong, so you hold back the urge to massively roll your eyes. Especially when she says it wrong again. So you nod, and emphasise the right way to pronounce the word as you confirm, "Yeah, lilac."

Then she goes again saying it weirdly, "Lilac," and you have to bite your tongue not to laugh. You take a shallow breath to calm yourself down since you feel like she's fully playing with you, before explaining, "No, it's one word, say it all together."

But she says it just the same again, "Lilac." You release a long sigh and try your best to appear as friendly and comedic as possible as you openly admit your lack of patience and her lack of ability in just saying the damn word correctly, "Yeah, no. This is not going to work."

Amelia diverts Halsey's attention from you to her as she lets out a hearty laugh, one that the singer very fakely joins into. You have to laugh along as well, before your best friend finally saves your arse and bids Halsey farewell, letting you feel just a bit of relief by having the girl out of your sight. But it would be a lie to say that the little awkward moment had not just ruined your night. It's a little pathetic of you to have let her rile you up so much, but from the shit she's written about your boyfriend in the past and now this passive aggressive interaction just set the tone.

It could've gone the other way entirely and you both laughed at the situation of your actually going out with someone she did. But no, you were met with silent animosity, sly digs, and looks that could kill. And to make matters worse, you're more than likely going to bump into her again inside, which pisses you off further. It makes you seriously debate just going back to the hotel with Matty and falling asleep in his arms. But you will absolutely not let that snake win.

Thankfully, the last few interviews manage to lift your spirits, Sam Claflin being the last person to step into your little corner. And the absolute gem of a man has you gigging instantly.

"British!" Sam exclaims when hearing you and Amelia say hello to him and welcoming him into the carpet. You and Amelia laugh and repeat with the same enthusiasm, "British!"

Sam lets out a sigh of relief at the familiarity of the accent, "That's so nice!" Amelia chuckles and jokes, "When British people see each other, that's what they do, they go: British!"

You and the man in the classic tuxedo say at the same time, "British!" And the three of you continue with your chorus of "British," until the word starts feeling odd when rolling off your tongue.

You point it out with a funny look on your face, "Alright, that's starting to sound like an odd word now." After a little laugh and Sam agreeing, Amelia points out, "We've seen a lot of your castmates."

Sam raises his brows, and looks around a little before saying, "See, I haven't seen them yet! And this is what I'm excited about." Amelia nods and continues with her line of questioning, "Yeah, we've actually seen them. So will you all be on the dancefloor together, do you think tonight?"

But Sam shocks you with his answer, "I'm not much of a dancer." It's a little hard for you to believe that he wouldn't be good at dancing. This man in front of you is so talented in so many ways, you're willing to bet money he's actually a great dancer. "Are you not?!" You say instinctively with a shocked expression on your face.

Sam looks devastated to bring the horrible news, "I can't say that I am." 

Amelia follows up with a sad, "Are you kidding?!" The actor shakes his head, "No. Yeah, ermm..." Amelia does bring back what you had seen when he was approaching you, "When you came over, just now, I thought you're definitely a dancer!"

"Oh, I did dance over!" Sam chuckles, nodding a bit. "Yeah!" You say enthusiastically. But he adds, "No. I uh, I definitely have the posture of a ballerina. But no, it's not for me." Amelia snorts, "A posture of a ballerina. I love that."

To change the topic, you ask, "Are you fan of a burger? There's In-N-Out burgers."

"I do love a burger." Sam nods and his face lights up when he asks, "There's In-N-Out burgers?" You just get the excitement on his face and eagerly nod, "Yes!"

Sam delivers yet more sad news to the audience when he confesses, "See, okay, I've only had In-N-Out once in my life." But this time, you get it because you could probably count the times you've had In-N-Out with one hand, "Oh yeah, because we're British."

Sam almost pouts as he says, "We don't have it." The faint sadness shows in Amelia's voice as she adds, "That's true, we can't really have it."

It is absolutely hilarious when Sam turns to the camera and points at it as he says, "So, if you're watching In-N-Out, bring it over, over the pond." You look at the camera and point as well as you emphasise, "Over the pond."

Sam hums and continues, "And introduce us, properly." Amelia nods like a child at the camera and mumbles, "Yes, please."

It's hard not to laugh when you turn to Sam and hide your sarcasm to ask, "Cos you've just been having, what? You've just been having Sunday roasts?" Sam chuckles at the question and nods, "Sunday roast."

Amelia says, "Fish and chips." The tone that the both of you use makes Sam laugh again, "Yeah. Oh, fish and chips."

Because it's your brand, you can't help but mention, "We've been having loads of nuggets." Sam hums, completely lost at the random mention of chicken nuggets, "Those are good too."

Amelia seems elated at his agreement and is chipper as she continues, "Right? Can never go wrong with some nuggets." Bless him, he must think you're not eating well if that has been the main course of your diet as of late, but you let him go with a big smile and an eager, "Well, thank you Sam!"

Amelia smiles brightly, "It's been a pleasure." He offers you a sweet smile and says, "Thank you to you both." You give him a tiny wave as he goes to hand back the mic, "Have a great time!"

While Amelia says, "Bye bye!" into her microphone. Hilariously, before he leaves, he salutes you as he says, "British!"

And you and Amelia cannot hold back from saluting him back as the both of you say "British!" Sam laughs as he walks away, heading to the photo section of the red carpet, leaving you and Amelia to finally wrap up the TikTok live.

"On that patriotic note, we're gonna say goodnight to you all," You start the closing dialogue of your interview section.

Amelia finishes your sentence with, "And go get ourselves some In-N-Out burgers!" Playing into your brand, once again, you quip, "You think they'd have chicken nuggets?" Amelia hums, considering that to be better than burgers, "Cross your fingers."

Turning back to look at the camera, you bid all your viewers goodnight, "Alright, thank you for watching guys!"

"This has been Amelia," Your best friend starts saying. You grin, "And Y/N, at the Vanity Fair Oscars After Party Red Carpet!" In unison, you say, "Bye!"

And just like that, the live is ended by the staff behind the cameras and you have officially survived your Oscars weekend.

This should make you so incredibly happy, ecstatic to have accomplished such a thing, and have been able to pull it off like you did, but your brain is cruel and all that flashes back to the forefront of your mind is Halsey's interview. You try to shoo away the way it made you feel, her voice echoing in your head when she said, "I'm sorry for you". It just makes you want to crawl out of your skin to remember her tone, and her expression when saying that. Who the fuck is she to comment on your relationship like that?

It's really hard to focus on anything else while you're getting your mic packs taken off your gowns as the crew picks everything up before leaving. When you get the greenlight to go though, you remember your favourite curly headed lad waiting for you backstage, and that's when a smile comes back to your face. You cringe at yourself internally when you feel like you're following the light as you basically power walk your way back to Matty. Amelia cackles behind you when you loudly wince at your aching feet trying to keep up with your need to get to the backstage room yesterday at this point.

But feet pain be damned, you can barely even feel it when your boyfriend opens the door just as you're turning the last corner. And seeing him is just the thing you needed to calm you down. You can't help but grin as you look at him. He's changed into his black tuxedo, and has a crimson shirt underneath that matches the colour of your dress to a tee. He's got a few buttons undone and showing his chest tattoo, and the chain that falls over it adds to the whole look, so you don't know how to react. He looks so good with those curls bouncing freely on his head and you adore that he has a matching smile on his face as you all but run to each other.

"I'm so proud of you," Matty whispers in your ear after he catches you in his arms. You feel yourself melt into the embrace. He feels like home and it's such an overwhelming sense of relief that you feel like you could cry. Your voice sounds croaky when you softly reply, "Thank you baby."

He pulls back, pecking your lips quickly before analysing your face. He can see your eyes gleaming, slightly teary but that could just be the excitement of the moment, or even anxiety, so he makes sure to ask, "You good?"

Like a magnet, your lips are on his again, this time more of a proper kiss. One that says those three words you're holding in tightly to yourself. He hums tasting your mouth again, and it all feels so right. You pull back, give him the brightest smile, contagious as he mirrors it, and confirm, "I'm good."

Amelia's heels clicking closer make your turn slightly in Matty's arms, but it's her groaning at your displays of affection that makes both of you laugh. "Okay, you vile pair-" Amelia clicks her fingers at you both before she ushers you along, "Let's go party and get a burger before they run out of them!"

Matty snorts at her, "Burger first?" Knowing Amelia, he says that more as a statement rather than a question.

Yet, Amelia surprises him when she sighs, "No, let's head to the bar. I need some shots first."

Matty's eyes widen and you cackle at your best friend. Not entirely against her wishes. So the three of you waste no time gathering your belongings, sending the stuff you won't need back to your hotel, and heading inside to the big party. 

The one thing you can think of when you step into the place is how Halsey was right saying this was a circus. You have to really put effort in keeping your jaw in place, because the amount of famous people you see walking around you so carelessly is insane.

You have to scorn yourself for still thinking about that conversation with Halsey, letting her words ruin such a monumental day in your career. But it proves quite hard when everything she said felt like a dig at you and your relationship. However, you do your very best to push the memory aside, focusing on enjoying this very moment with your best friend and your boyfriend.

When you come back to Earth, you see Amelia have the same look of disbelief on her face. Letting go of Matty's hand for a second, you hug your best friend tightly and squeal in her ear. A singular second of fangirling before you try and act cool so you don't blow your cover of 'fake it 'til you make it'.

Heading straight to the bar is a good way to fight that imposter syndrome. A shot of tequila helps you settle down a little, and sipping a fun cocktail on your way to your table rids you of your nerves. The three of you bump into Paul again, and you're all enthralled in amazing conversation for a while. People coming in to join you, and therefore meeting celebrities you had never thought you'd meet. It feels so surreal but you make sure to enjoy every bit of it.

That is until you volunteer to get the next round of drinks for you and Amelia. Matty had bumped into Kate Berlant, and after introducing you to her, you left him to chat with her while you went up to the bar. 

In your giddy state, thanks to the alcohol making you feel warm and fuzzy inside, you miss the fact that a certain someone catches you making your way over to the bar. His voice alone startles you, the way he lowers his tone an octave when flirting with you. "Fancy seeing you again, gorgeous."

The icky actor who heavily flirted with you on the carpet is a few steps from you, and you're half sure he sees the subtle uncomfortable cringe you let yourself have. It's impossible for you not to look slightly horrified at the fact that he's back in your presence. You truly felt earlier like you were being preyed upon by a drunken fool. And if that's not enough, the awkward and cold tone in your voice should help. "Oh, hi." You turn away, hoping all the signs make up the clear message in his head.

Apparently, everything flies over his head. He swiftly takes a big step so he ends in front of you again. Massive smirk on his face as he continues his flirting, "Was hoping to see you in here."

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself to be professional. After all, he could be a Chicken Shop Date, and that has never harmed anyone. "Yeah? Thank you so much for coming over to chat to us before." You smile, trying to be genuine with the encounter, because content is content at the end of the day. "It makes it so much easier for us when people are chatty."

It's an attempt to sound friendly, but the step you take back so you're at a distance from him, added to the fact that you hide your hands behind your back should give off the vibe that you don't want him close.

However, Mr. Can't Read Social Cues does not catch that either. He leans in as he comes closer to you, "Well, I saw you in that dress and couldn't stay away." He makes the effort to grab one of your forearms to take your hand and kiss the back of it with a smile on his lips, "You look like a million dollars."

Mentally, you scold yourself because you feel your cheeks burning. More so from annoyance that he is not getting your offstandish ways. You pull your hand back as calmly as you can. You would hate for anyone to see this entire interaction and take it the wrong way, awkwardly you smile at him trying to appear as if you're flattered. Truthfully though, all you can smell is the alcohol on his breath and you feel your skin crawl.

Clasping your hands behind your back again, you smile softly as you accept the compliment, "I certainly feel like it, thank you." He smiles endearingly at you, and you cringe internally when you realise he might be taking this as you being shy. And from the way his eyes keep looking you up and down you know he's not going to give up. 

And your point is proven because it becomes so much more obvious that he just doesn't understand a woman's demeanour when he goes even further with his flirting, "I'd certainly pay that much for your company. You'd be worth every penny."

You scoff in disbelief, but mask it with a giggle when he raises a brow at your reaction. Never in a million years would you want this guy to spend a penny on you, so you jokingly say, "Well lucky for you I'm free."

The way his face lights up at your comment makes your heart drop to your arse. "You're free?" He asks with a hint of hopefulness behind his lustry yet drunk voice, "If you are, I'd love to take you out sometime?"

Shit. Fuck. Idiot. You laugh over-exaggeratedly, trying to make it seem like it was a joke, "Oh I'm sorry, I just meant I'm free to chat now."

Relentless might be this guy's second name though, or so it seems, because he continues to list all the things he is willing to do for you. "I would though," His eyes never leave you, and the way his gaze runs down your figure makes you squirm in your place. It's almost like he's eating you up with his eyes as he declares, "Absolutely love to take you out, pamper you, not to one of your chicken places though. I'm thinking fancy restaurants, treat you to something that'll truly satisfy you before we finish the night in the best way possible."

It's really hard not to roll your eyes at him, or push him away from you. You sigh as softly as you can, thinking about how awful it will be for the girls who might fall for his love-bombing ways in the future. Spare them please, whoever you are up there. Mustering your sweetest, kindest, smile, you start letting him down easy, "As lovely as that sounds I-"

But he is quick to interrupt, words drunkenly stumbling out his mouth, "If it's an issue because you're going back home soon, that doesn't have to be a problem. You're more than welcome to stay here in LA with me. I can show you around and take you to all the lovely restaurants and sights we have to offer... Equally if you really have to get back, I have residence over in England so maybe you could take me around London?"

Kindness be damned, you can't even hold a fake smile when you say, "Thank you for the kind offer but I have a boyfriend."

His face falls entirely, almost like the fact has sobered him up, "You have a boyfriend?"

"Yes," You say quickly, cold and cutting. But it seems like not even a boyfriend will stop his advances, because he very easily asks, "Is it serious?"

This time it's impossible to hold back from letting out a mocking laugh at him. Sarcastically, you reply, "I'd like to think so."

You would have paid hundreds for someone to have captured your face when he adds, "Does he really have to know?" Your jaw all but falls to the floor after hearing that. Bewildered is an understatement, and it takes you a few seconds to gather yourself and declare, "I'm not a cheater."

He sounds to be very well versed in the art of cheating and its loopholes when he suggests, "Is it really cheating if only us two know?" 

You truly can't believe the words you're hearing. Never in your life did you think this talented actor would be a drunk idiot who prayed upon women. Appalled and disappointed don't quite cover it. "Yeah it is," You nod with no sympathy left in you. "As flattered as I am, I'm not interested. Thank you."

You make an attempt to go around him, and head for the other end of the bar, but he catches you before you can even take a third step. Your skin crawls at the feeling of his hand on yours again but looking back you hold your ground, not letting him intimidate you in the slightest. His face is riddled with confusion when he asks, "But the flirting?"

To anyone observing the encounter, the smile you give him might appear sweet, but to those who know you well would definitely see that you're being nothing but cynical. And you hope the lad catches it as you all but spell it out for him, "It's part of my job. I'm paid to do it. Please take the hint."

His cocky mouth opens again and you'd already prepared for another quip back at him, but thankfully a saviour appears. "Baby, do you need help carrying the drinks?" Hearing Matty's voice floods your system with relief, and you're quick to escape from the actor's grasp to wrap your arm around your boyfriend's side. It's amazing how just his presence alone calms you, but you're just glad you don't have to speak to the prick who's looking at you knowingly now.

Holding Matty's hand makes you relax all-together, and it can be heard in your voice when you nod at him, "Please, that'd be great."

He's awfully tense though. His jaw locked, brows furrowed, killing stare aimed at the drunk and stupid guy from the interviews. Matty can't help but menacingly ask, "Everything alright over here?"

"It was," The actor quickly replies. And you're relieved that this is all over far too soon, because he then puts on the most taunting smile and asks, "So this is the boyfriend?"

Matty clenches his hands, forgetting yours is holding him tightly. But before he can say anything that might end badly, you go ahead and factually say, "This is my boyfriend."

Your boyfriend who had been giggling and enjoying himself while chatting with some friends he had bumped into. That was until Kate mentioned something that Matty thought you would like. When he turned his gaze towards the bar to look for you, and saw this bloke chatting you up again, he excused himself and dashed your way. Every step he took was accompanied by the memory of everything he had said to you during your interviews. All the stupid one-liners that you had laughed at and not really turned down as evidently as Matty would have liked.

It's her job, he'd had to remind himself. But you weren't on camera anymore, not on the clock, not your job to entertain him anymore. And by the looks of it, something must have happened. When he was walking toward you, he saw you smiling but it was like you were gritting your teeth to even be able to manage the facial expression. Something had happened, and clearly you've handled it well, so Matty is simultaneously biting his tongue and holding himself back from making a scene, just as you are. Though he's sure you were getting your point across, it seems the drunk fool in front of the both of you clearly isn't quite taking the hint. Matty's hopeful that his presence now diffuses the situation. 

A certain line he said comes back to your boyfriend, and Matty can't go without ill-willingly letting the lad know he is the one you're with, "She does look incredible on the dancefloor, by the way. Enjoy your evening."

You would have laughed if it wasn't for the fact that the comment only causes the man to smirk widely, winking at you before saying one last thing before he goes, "Think about it."

The lad walks away with a swagger that makes you scoff and roll your eyes. But those words only make Matty frown and question their meaning, "Think about what?"

"Nothing," You brush away with a shrug. But before you can turn back around towards the bar, Matty comes closer to you and inquires again, "What did knobhead want?"

You sigh, already tired of dealing with the lad and the consequences of his drunken words, "A date."

Matty's brows furrow even more. "At a chicken shop?" He has no say when it comes to who you date for work or not. But he will definitely voice his annoyance before you think of bringing him on the show. For all he cares, Amelia can take that date.

But Matty sees red when you confirm, "No, an actual one." Everything the actor said was so stupid to you, so it's not a big deal for you to share the absurd idea the prick had when you said you were taken. You raise your eyebrows as you tell him, "And for me to cheat apparently."

The dead look Matty gives you then screams, are you fucking serious? And when you press your lips together, you silently answer with a look of confirmation. "Oh, absolutely not." That is the last nail in the coffin for Matty. His head snaps to the direction the actor walked off in as he says under his breath, "I'm gonna deck the little cunt."

He goes on his tiptoes, looking through the crowd for him but before he can make any move, you keep him in his spot. You grab his forearm before he can even take a step and you stand directly in front of him, your grip tightening ever so slightly.  His gaze falls on you and you sternly say, "Don't. He's gone now, that's all I wanted." You're so over the whole thing, and you don't want to let the prick ruin such a special night for you.

"He's got some nerve," Matty hisses through his teeth, still looking through the crowded room for the silly cunt. You don't think you've ever seen Matty so enraged. Not in person anyway, but this is much different to the videos where he's speaking passionately about something he believes in. You can practically see his anger seeping through his pores.

And while you agree, you want the whole thing dropped, "Please leave it. It's finished. It's fine, he's just a bit too drunk and clearly doesn't know what he's saying."

"It's not fine, not at all," Your boyfriend says back. You can see his rage through his eyes, pupils blown, and trying to find his target. He scoffs when he can't find the awful head of hair the lad sports in between the sea of people in the place. "Asking you to cheat? Really? Fucking dickhead."

You sigh, dropping your head to take a few seconds because you know that Matty's got every right to be upset about it. But you just want it over with. You don't want to think about that creep anymore, so you take a few seconds to acknowledge your emotions and let them pass. It takes a few seconds, and you can feel Matty's gaze on you but after a minute, you feel so much lighter.

When you pick up your head, you say, "Let's just get our drinks, yeah? I don't want this to ruin what this is for us." The fury in those brown eyes you love so much thankfully flickers out into nothing. And you relax a little more when your boyfriend manages to slip his hand into yours. And with the way that Matty leans in to kiss your cheek before you're off to actually get the drinks, you're thankful that he's complying with your wishes. Yet, the hard stare he gives the bartender when he smiles at you before taking your order tells you an entirely different story.

Possessiveness isn't something you've noticed from him in the past. But you can understand it just after a situation like this and there's a part of you that appreciates the way he's so willing to defend you. But you'd much prefer for him to just be at your side while you ignore advances from people like that. Not that you get many of those advances anyway, thank god.

You notice Matty's still a bit tense even when you get back to your table. It's hard to get a genuine chuckle out of him as he chats to the people who have been catching up with Amelia. And you can't miss the way he so overtly glancing around the room, not even being discreet with the way he's on the lookout for the damn actor. But there's only so much of that you can take, so you make a show of dragging him to the dancefloor with Amelia.

Luckily, your curly haired brunette can't avoid the hold you have on him for long. His hands are on your hips before he can even think about it, and his lips are looking for yours as you move to the rhythm of the catchy songs the DJ is playing.

Having a boyfriend that loves dancing around on stage and a best friend that enjoys making TikTok dances is a god send at this moment. Because you've never found yourself laughing so much as you watch the silly dances they both challenge each other with. And hearing that adorably quirky cackle that's so unique to Matty, when Amelia busts out a few wild moves, is music to your ears.

Relief floods you, and letting go as you're celebrating such a big night with two of your favourite people ever is so easy. You're only human though, and you grow thirsty after putting off your bodily functions for a good half hour.

Matty volunteers to go to the bar for another round, and you're so grateful for the quick break from the attack your heels have on your feet. Amelia and you are giggling and chatting in loud whispers to each other's ear while you wait for your drinks, but she leaves you in a rush when she spots someone she knows around the edges of the dancefloor.

You watch as she runs towards the girl and how they light up at the sight of each other before hugging tightly. The whole scene makes you sort of nostalgic for a memory in the making, and you just need to take it all in for a second. Your gaze goes around the entire room, taking in every detail and committing it to your memory. You can't help but feel so overwhelmingly lucky. Being at one of these events even a few years ago was a fever dream, and now that it's your reality and you were actually paid to attend is something you'll forever be grateful for. And then your eyes land on the person who makes you feel complete and your heart melts all over again.

On his way back to the table, Matty locks eyes with your dreamy stare, and you just spring up from your seat at the sight of him. He can't help but notice the tears threatening to spill on your waterline as he gets closer though, and he becomes a little worried. He's carrying three drinks and you rush to help him with them. Not because you want to take a sip of your fun little cocktail, but because you need to kiss him and feel his arms around you desperately.

"Everything okay?" He asks, concern evident in his tone. 

You nod and peck his lips before grabbing your and Amelia's drink, quickly making the short way back to your table and setting them there for the time being. Turning on your heels, you see Matty set his glass right beside yours, but he's so conveniently close, your hand cups his jaw and you trap him in a loving kiss.

He hums against your lips, an arm wrapping around your waist while he rests on arm at the edge of the table. His worry dissipates quickly, and he can guess you just got in your head a little and you let yourself have a moment to take in everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. Matty only hopes that you're as proud of yourself as he is of you.

Giggles come from you when he leans forward, threatening to tumble you backwards and onto the table. You feel his smirk on your lips, but neither of you dare break the kiss. It's too perfect to stop yourself, you adore the feeling of the butterflies in your stomach as you kiss the man you love.

Matty knows you're not one for PDA, so this is a surprise to him, and he would be crazy to even think of cutting the moment short. Your mouths move together so naturally, second nature to show all the emotions inside you that you haven't said in words just yet. But you're so close to letting them out. His tongue teases the three words that hang on the tip of yours as he deepens the kiss. It's impossible for you not to break the kiss as you throw your head back in a cackle when his hand comes down from your waist to grab a handful of your arse. Even that's a step too far for you though, so you gently move his hand back to your lower back.

You're about to tease him for his actions, but he gets in there before you, so he can say, "I'm so proud of you, baby."

Your chest swells at the words, tears welling up in your eyes again when hearing the sweet conviction in his voice. There's nothing you love more than getting lost in those gorgeous brown eyes of his, and you can see just how earnest his statement is because you can feel the love he has for you radiating from him. But you don't get a chance to reply when you feel a hand resting gently on your upper arm, drawing your attention away from your lovely boyfriend.

Out of everyone you could expect to ruin such a moment, the last you expected was the person who stands right in front of you right now.

"Hey, there's no cameras in here, you know?" Halsey says, the condescending tone seeping from her lips as she continues, poison lacing her words, "You don't need to do this."

You have no idea what else to say other than, "Pardon?" as you and your boyfriend detangle from each other, which makes the intrusion all the more bitter.

But the singer fully ignores you, her gaze now falling on your boyfriend, who she gives a bright smile and greets with a nod and a soft, "Matty."

Standing up straight, but bringing you with him as he still clutches your waist, Matty smiles back at her to make this a friendly situation, "Ashley, how've you been?"

"Okay, thank you." She smiles at him, "Saw your show in LA. Your tour seems to be going well."

"Yeah," Matty nods, "I'm certainly enjoying it, thank you."

And while this exchange is very pleasant for distant exes, you can't help yourself. You have to know what she meant when she first came over and interrupted you, "I'm sorry, what don't I need to do?"

The woman with the wet look pixie cut finally looks at you again now. The harshness of her dark eye makeup makes her stare even more jarring when she finally responds with, "Be all over him-" She nods at Matty, "Because you went on a filmed date."

"There's a 'no camera policy' in here." She smiles patronisingly at you, as if she wants it to come across like she's doing you a favour when she informs you, "No one will report on what you're trying to do... So you can relax, and just enjoy the party."

Despite the shock of that coming from absolutely nowhere, all you can think is, wow, what a dumb fucking bitch. For a start, you don't know how she's missed the fact you and Matty are officially an item. It's not as if either of you have been hiding it, and from the way you've both been prayed on by the paparazzi over the last few months, you know that media companies in America have had you in articles over here.

Secondly, if you and Matty were faking a relationship just to get more coverage in the media, who the fuck is this bitch to tell you what not to do? Who the fuck is she to get involved in yours or Matty's business at all?

But before you say anything, you want to hear her admit to this being what she thinks is going on. You frown a little, feigning confusion, "And what am I trying to do?"

"Oh, you know. The dancing, the hugging, the kissing..." She looks between you and almost laughs when she sees Matty's arm still wrapped around your waist. "You might as well be attached to his hip."

As annoying as it is to have your relationship questioned in this way, you can't help but find this whole interaction rather amusing. An ex getting a little too involved in a new relationship is genuinely hilarious to you, especially when Matty has (in the past) already stressed just how much he and Halsey were never an official item.

Before your boyfriend picks his jaw up to correct the woman he used to sleep with, you beat him to it. And Matty can't help but take pride in the way you're so nonchalant and sarcastic about it. "Oh right," You nod before dryly saying. "I wasn't aware that I needed permission to have a drink with, or dance with, or kiss my boyfriend but I'll certainly endeavour to get authorisation next time." You turn towards him slightly, laying a hand over his shirt as you ask, "Matty, any issues?"

Even from just this small shared look between you, the humour is so clear in both of your eyes just how amusing you're finding this. 

"None at all." Matty smiles at you.

The smirk that finds its way to your lips has your boyfriend biting his tongue to stop himself laughing. There's certainly a silent conversation happening between you, and it's along the lines of, I can't believe you used to date this woman - yeah it wasn't my best decision making - I can't believe the audacity she has - Yeah, tell me about it. Why do you think it didn't last?

"Wait," Halsey brings you back to reality and the both of you glance back to her, watching as she blinks slowly, and there's something so satisfying about seeing the moment realisation seeps in. "This is real?" The singer points between the two of you, dumbfoundedly asking, "You two are actually..."

Letting your voice have that noticeable gravel drawl, you nod slowly, patronisingly, "As real as a heart attack."

"Since when?" She frowns, shaking her head as if she still doesn't believe you.

It's a pathetic question regardless. Her having a date won't make her believe your romance any more than she already does. Matty has to hold back a scoff, unable to believe how entitled she feels to information that is none of her business. Especially not when she approaches the two of you with a ridiculous superiority complex, "Since I asked her to be my girlfriend and she said yes."

The bitch inside you wishes she could add, A question that you never heard. 

Before you could even have the chance to though, Matty wraps the interaction up for the both of you, "Now if you'll excuse us Ashley, we've got things to be doing." Your boyfriend quickly reaches behind you and grabs the drinks again before you start walking off. "Wish I could say it's been great to see you, but alas."

You're somewhere between wanting to scoff or laugh as you take yours and Amelia's drinks from Matty, pinching both glasses between your fingers, so you can take Mattys other hand in your free one. Ultimately, you just end up shaking your head a little when you look at the curly haired brunette, finally getting to voice, "She's actually deluded."

"Yeah, well. Nothing that different from ten years ago." Matty sighs like he can't stand his past self for ever going there. And you're sure you'll talk about it more at some point tomorrow when you recap your day, but for now, you're happy when he gives your hand a squeeze and smiles at you, "Come on, I swear I just saw George."

You grin, looking around yourself for the lovely gentle giant who's in this room full of stars. And it doesn't take you long to find the man in question, and when you do, you see that he's already found your best friend too. George - dressed in a lovely light grey suit - and Amelia are in deep conversation when you get to them, but what you fail to notice until someone else moves out of your way is that there's another special guest with them.

This man is wearing a dashing burgundy suit with a black shirt underneath, his beard groomed to perfection, and his hair tied back in that man bun that screams 'pull me'. It's absolutely no wonder that you slip from Matty's grip to go and say hello to the man you're so very lucky to call your friend.

"Ross!" You smile brightly, wrapping your arms around the tall bassist. And you take every comfort in the big hug that he gives you, "I didn't know you were here!"

"Yeah well, these two were coming so I didn't wanna be left out." He explains, "And Hann was going back home, so I just got on the plane with George instead."

You chuckle a little, but then realise again where you are and just how prestigious this place is. He certainly couldn't just come in with George, he'd have to be on a list. So you ask a little confused, "But how'd you get into the after party?"

"Oh," Ross grins at you then, releasing you from your hug before he takes a step back and wraps his arm around Amelia, "Courtesy of your best friend. I'm her boyfriend for the evening."

"Oh," Your jaw falls slightly, as you glance between them, smiles on both their faces. You can't stop yourself from nodding, "Lucky."

"Lucky who?" Matty asks, taking his place by your side once more having already said hello to George.

You briefly hum in amusement, "Don't ask questions you don't wanna know the answers to." Unsurprisingly, Matty pinches you then as the others start laughing at you. But with a quick playful slap to his arm, you promise him, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

"I know you are." Your boyfriend nods, pulling you tightly into his side for a moment so he can kiss your cheek, and deciding to throw caution to the wind even more, you steal a proper kiss from him. PDA be damned.

After your kiss, you slip from Matty's grip once more to give Amelia her drink and to greet George properly. You adore the bear hug he gives you, and it's an effort to pull away from the warm embrace. "Where have you been the past few hours?" You ask him.

"Charli wanted to be fashionably late," He explains with a big smile, "And me and Ross wanted a back door entrance."

"You could have come through with us ages ago." You slap his arm a little. You all could have been having a good time together so much earlier if you knew this. Already knowing Charli will look amazing, you can't help but get excited to see her again as it's always an amazing night when you're out with her. You hope that she comes and finds you all soon.

"You two ladies-" The drummer nods to you and Amelia, "Attract too much attention and the last thing we need is more attention."

George adds with a smirk as he looks at Ross, "Especially after last night."

You frown at that, not quite understanding, "Last night?" You're so confused, as the only thing you know that happened last night was, "SNL?" Even when you glance at Matty for some insight, he looks just as confused as you. He's none the wiser, so you're happy as the drummer continues divulging more information.

"The afterparty..." George smirks, his eyes full of mischief when he informs you, "Where several women had to be escorted out because they were fighting over Ross."

Your jaw drops at first, imagining that scene and being slightly disappointed that you missed seeing that unfold. But the fomo dissipates, and a shit-eating grin cracks on your face as you turn to your boyfriend to say, "I told you they like Ross more than you! I told you!"

All your boyfriend has to say about it is, "Bullshit." Clearly not wanting to let go of the heartthrob-of-the-band title but you won't back down when it's a fact now.

"He is, and he has been for a while." You nod, and you even look to George for back up when you add, "I bet they were all over him."

"Swear on my life, Matty." George mimes a cross over his heart, and the biggest smile lights up your face. Being right about it is just fueling your ego on another level, and it's even better when his best friend adds, "Never seen anything like it before." George's smirk makes giggles bubble up your chest, and you let them out childishly when he clutches the bassist's shoulder and sets on stone, "Ross MacDonald the last last single stud of The 1975, ready to be devoured at any given moment."

Devoured. The use of the word makes your face heat up, and it is then that intrigue takes over. It's impossible not to ask, "Did you show any of them a good time at least?"

"How dare you suggest such a thing." Ross fakes a scoff before wrapping his arm around Amelia's waist and pulling her into his side as he plays on their new fake dynamic, "I've got a girlfriend to think about." You don't know whether to be jealous or happy for your best friend. But watching her blush has you wanting to scream at the top of your lungs. Maybe it's time to suggest a foursome to Matty?

Instead, you smirk and switch up your inquiry, "Are you going to show her a good time?"

Ross smirks at you before looking down at your very flustered best friend, deciding to reply with a mysterious, "If we're lucky."

Matty and George shake their heads, pulling Ross away from Amelia as you just look at your best friend and mouth, 'you lucky, lucky bitch'. The grin on your face won't subside as she walks towards you and grabs your hand, saying a quiet, "Shut up, shut up." The giggle that leaves your lips is loud, but the smile from this point onwards never leaves your face. Taking your hand, Amelia pulls you to the dancefloor, clearly needing a moment where it's just the two of you and no friends around to embarrass her further. Although, you do make her blush once more by telling her to go for it with Ross. Even if it's just for a night, she's absolutely won either way.

Unsurprisingly the subject gets dropped, even though you see the way her eyes linger on the bassist as she gets a little more tipsy and as you dance with her you catch the way Ross' eyes linger on her. You hope the both of them end up having a wonderfully messy night.

All previous sour interactions have left your mind, each sentence that had made you feel bittersweet before has been switched for the sound of Amelia's giggles as you have a dance off with each other. Charli bestows compliments on you when she eventually finds you, about your makeup and dresses and there's so much laughter from you all, but especially from George when you start your fake advances at his girlfriend. Not to mention how happy Matty's kisses make you feel, and you can't help but love the way Ross' winks at your best friend. Every negative thought you'd had while being here thankfully completely disappeared. You feel like you're riding such a high, and you wish you could bottle up that feeling and never let go of it.

"Come on, dance with me." You ask your boyfriend, and he absolutely indulges in your wishes without a second thought.

Dancing with him, song after song, wraps it all together for you. The man of your actual teenage dreams dancing with you, kissing you every chance he gets, at a place that never in your wildest dreams you thought you would be invited to, surrounded by people you only ever saw through big screens or on stage metres away from you.

It's a little wild to you how many familiar faces come up to you while you're on the dancefloor to speak to you about your work. About how much they adore Chicken Shop Date, or about how they love the way you and Amelia are on camera, and even how they love your friendship. Everyone is so beyond kind to you, and you truly don't think your heart has ever been so full. These talented people come up to you expressing how brilliant they think your show is, the one that you and your best friend dreamt up back in high school. Not only that, but now these celebrities are saying that they would love to be on a chicken shop date when you propose the idea of them coming on the show.

A million emotions course through you, and sometimes you don't even know how to react to it all. You're grateful, first and foremost, but it becomes rather overwhelming after a few hours of greeting so many new-but-old faces. Imposter syndrome mixed with the cocktails, aching feet, and a damn long past few days, you can feel your social battery draining at an increasing rate.

Matty is the first to notice, and he keeps a close eye on you until you say something. Only that you don't. And he can see the fact that you would rather be anywhere else but here now, but the words won't come out of your mouth.

"You wanna get a burger and head back to the hotel?" He asks into your ear while you softly dance together to a slower song.

You perk up instantly, your tired eyes widening at the thought of some food and the comfy hotel bed. Nodding, you smile to agree, "I would love to."

Your boyfriend pecks your lips before he stands up straight. A smile comes to his face when he sees your shoulders fall in relief at the prospect of leaving, "Let's say bye to them lot, and we'll sneak off."

Goodbyes are quick with the boys, George and Ross both giving you a bear hug and they melt your heart when they say they're proud of you, and you kiss them on their cheeks as a thank you. Charli gives you a hug before she's dragged away by someone who only just found her, but that gives you more time saying goodbye to your best friend. You're sure it's a solid 2 minutes that you clutch each other tightly for. You're both swaying, refusing to release the other, whispering how much you love each other and how proud you are of each other. Without any doubt you know that at one point you almost make her cry, and it's when you just about choke out that you can't believe that you've both made it. 

When you eventually release each other, Matty notes the glassiness to your eyes so you really appreciate the way he grabs your hand and pulls you into his side and kisses your temple. On your way over to the fast food stand, you get stopped by a few more people wanting quick chats, all of the encounters leave you smiling like a lunatic despite you growing more tired by the minute. Before you know it, your order is being bagged up for the both of you, and Matty has your hand in his as you both aim for the exit. You can't help but steal one last glance at the room filled to the brim with A listers and you feel beyond lucky all over again.

Pride fills your chest as you take it all in for the last time, and you can't tame the smile on your lips. But that smile turns to a full on grin as you turn to leave after spying your best friend and a certain bassist dancing too suggestively and far too close together. God certainly has favourites, and you and Amelia are certainly near the top of the pecking order.

~*~*~*~

Matty holds your big In-N-Out bag, leaning against the doorframe while you look through your little purse for your hotel room key.

All that is on your mind is taking your heels off, eating, taking off your makeup, and cuddling your boyfriend in bed until you fall asleep. You can't get in the room quick enough once the door opens, and Matty can't stop smiling at you. Your little list is stuck like a post-it to the forefront of your mind, and you tick the first item off it as soon as you open the door. Seeing where your expensive and borrowed heels fly to, distracts you for a few seconds from the very big surprise that awaits you sitting on the coffee table.

"Oooo flowers!" You gasp loudly, dropping your purse on the floor, when your gaze lands on the royal blue and white roses. There's so many of them it fills the table as a stunning centrepiece. "These are huge," you can't stop yourself from thinking out loud, wondering how many roses make up for the large arrangement. "They must've been so expensive for Vanity Fair to buy. I guess they've got the money though."

You chuckle hearing yourself, but before going back to your boyfriend and the delicious meal that awaits you, you notice the little envelope that pops out in between the flowers. It's been placed in such a way that you don't see the 'Baby' written on the back of it until you pluck it from the holder.

"Matty..." you say under your breath, knowing that this is his handwriting, and therefore, the flowers are his doing. As you go to open the envelope, a soft "What?" falls from your lips, but he just watches you with a smile so that you continue reading the little note.

'I never thought something we said on our first ever date would be so true. Thank you for showing me the art that is dating you. You continue to amaze me every day. I'm so unbelievably proud of you, baby.'

Your heart is hammering against your chest, begging to escape its humane prison to end up in his hands. Each word on the note branding itself on the forefront of your mind while your eyes can't stop going over them again and again. It's hard to tell if you're dreaming or not.

"You deserve them and more," your boyfriend says, snapping you out of your trance.

"Baby." You whisper, a lump almost forming in your throat at the emotions threatening to escape. But of course they do, your eyes fill with tears and a few fall slowly down your cheeks. Instantly, you walk towards him, your arms instantly wrapping around his neck and burying yourself into the comfort that is his body. Matty holds you tightly, but on your way over, he spied your glistening eyes. So he leans back a little, prying your face from his neck and cupping your cheeks in his hands so he can see his gorgeous girlfriend.

"No," He says softly, trying not to coo at your pouting face. Thumbs rubbing at your cheeks as he attempts to stop your tears from spilling, "No crying on me."

But it's actually impossible not to. Not when the flowers are insanely beautiful, not when his words make your heartbeat erratic. Not when everything you feel about him is coming over you like pouring rain, impossible not to become overwhelmed by their effect over you. "Thank you so much, I- I-" Your eyes leave his briefly, glancing back at the beautiful bouquet, your voice almost cracks as you explain, "No one's ever given me flowers before."

It's almost pathetic that you're crying over flowers, but it just feels so special and you feel beyond grateful for this charming man being in your life. Never have you felt so happy. Never did you think this sort of happiness was intended for you, and the fact you now have it makes it all the more precious to you. 

You all but fling yourself at your boyfriend again, clutching him as tight as you possibly can which makes Matty release one of those wonderfully unique giggles of his. He smiles, leaning into you to place a kiss where your shoulder meets your neck before he says, "Well if you're going to cling to me like this, please expect them all the time now."

A teary giggle escapes your throat, but you don't let him go as you whisper a sincere, "Thank you so so much."

"Anything for you." Matty smiles, his hand rubbing up and down your back comfortingly. He gently tells you again, "I'm so so proud of you."

"I'm proud of you." It's a must that you say it back at him, because getting to witness all the things he and the guys are doing fills you up with pride. But there is also a tinge of regret when you admit, "I wish I'd brought you a present to New York now."

Of course, your boyfriend is adorable and says, "I had you as my present. And you're all I'll ever need." He kisses your cheek, and his lips brush the soft skin of your face as he declares, "Best present ever."

But that only makes you want to cry again. Your chin wobbles, and your eyes fill with tears, while your voice is just strong enough to let out a broken, "Matty."

"No crying." He smiles with a tiny shake of his head, and he makes an effort to be cheerier and to distract you a little so you're not ending the night crying, no matter if the tears are happy or sad. "Come on," Matty takes one of your hands in his and gives it a little squeeze before smiling brightly, "Let's eat. I don't know about you but I'm starvin'."

Sniffling a little, you wipe the remnants of your tears and move your gorgeous flowers towards the side so that Matty and you could set up your feast on the nearby glass table. You take your seats on either side of the corner, so you're facing each other and your feet end up knocking against each other as you set out your meal.

The food has gotten a little cold now, but it still looks amazing. And after such a long day, you can't wait any longer to dig in. After taking a big bite of your cheeseburger, you hum in content and dance a little in your place. Matty chuckles as he takes a bite as well, and it's when he grabs a chip that you get nostalgic.

The parallels between your first ever date, contractual or not, and tonight are all that you're thinking, "I feel like we're in a really fancy version of a chicken shop."

"Yeah, same." Matty agrees, looking around as he takes in the luxurious look of the hotel room and compares it to that chicken shop in London where you first dated, "Fancier venue too. The food is just the same and average."

You can't help but think about how much you would pay to go back to that first date. To tease him for being late, ask all the silly questions Amelia and you had come up with, to get him flustered and for him to get you flustered. Never would you have thought that it would have brought you here, to this very moment. And the conclusion you always get to is, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Your boyfriend gives you a sickenly sweet smile, and his eyes scream sincerity when he replies, "Me neither."

Your smile is huge just before you take a bite of your burger, but Matty's silent questioning has you explaining, "You're practically dressed the same as you were on our date."

Matty looks down at himself and chuckles, "Oh yeah." noticing only his shirt is a different colour to the white one he wore on the date.

"I feel like I'm on par with you now." You take his attention back to you, and his eyes drop to your exquisite crimson dress again and he can't help but smile.

"Hey," Matty raises his eyebrows as he eats a chip. He's unable to stop his smirk, "You looked amazing in those leather pants." The memory of it makes you giggle, and you're sure you'll never forget the way he looked at you on your official second date either when you wore the black ones just to toy with him. You make a mental note to get a few more leather pieces for your wardrobe when you get back home.

"Not as good as you in those black ones in the Love Me video." You grin, "Your arse is better now than it was back then, I need to get you in a pair again." Biting your lip for a second, you have to add, "Tight ones, preferably."

The snort that Matty releases makes a smile appear on both of your faces. "I knew you only wanted me for my body." You hum in fake agreement, with a playful roll of your eyes as you take another bite of your burger. Matty feeds you a few of his chips then which makes you giggle again but you gratefully accept them.

Relishing the moment you are sharing with your boyfriend is easy, but it's hard for you to wrap your head around everything that's happened tonight, "This still feels so surreal. I can't believe this is my life."

Matty, being the jokester that he is, can't help himself and says, "Baby, I thought you were over being starstruck by my presence."

You roll your eyes, and sarcastically laugh, "Ha, ha. You're a little shit." And though you would love to joke about it, like you know your boyfriend is trying to do, to make whatever ramble you're about to go on not as heavy on yourself, you can't help but let your thoughts leave you freely.

"It's just-, I don't know." It's frustrating how you can't find the appropriate words for your feelings, so you just continue talking, "A designer offered to make this dress for me. Vanity Fair and The Academy wanted Amelia and I as hosts for this carpet. People we have been looking up to for ages actually recognised us and said they love our work."

"I don't understand how this just happened. And it's not been overnight. We've been doing this for almost 10 years now. But... I'm just amazed by it all." Truth be told, you had never thought things would come to be this big for you two after such a long time trying to make it anywhere. "And I feel awful that I just wanted to be gone by the end of the party." You felt so ungrateful in the moment, and now you feel the need to apologise for it, "I'm sorry, by the way. For letting my energy get so low, and just not keeping up with the energy inside the party."

"Baby-," Matty starts, but you can't hear him say you don't need to apologise again.

"No, I-. You might have wanted to stay, but I was just drained." Admitting that is hard, knowing that you should've enjoyed every second of it. Imposter syndrome being exchanged for shame at yourself for not taking in every little bit that you're getting back now. "And I know you. I know we left because of me."

The look you give him makes him reach out for you, holding your hand over the table. Earnestly, he starts, "Baby, you don't have to apologise for that. Ever." You pout at him, unsure of how to truly feel; relieved by the reassurance that it's okay to have wanted to escape all that, or still guilty to have felt so overwhelmed by such a big night.

Your boyfriend knows how to get you to smile though, because he gives you a cheeky smile as he adds, "You know we'll always leave at the same time."

A snort comes from you, and you shake your head while fighting a big grin tugging at the corners of your lips to call him out, "Of course you had to do a self-reference."

He shrugs, squeezing your hand twice, "Made you laugh."

You hum, not wanting to actually acknowledge that, instead admitting, "Made me want to listen to Notes."

Matty grabs another chip, with the hand he's not holding yours with, and contently promises, "I'll serenade you once I'm done with my food."

Now that's one thing you'd love, so you smile brightly as you continue to eat. But Matty notices how your smile fades off as you silently continue eating, so it's no surprise when you show that you've been giving it all a thought again when you confess, "I know you just said I shouldn't apologise but I must confess it's become so much attention now, sometimes I think I'm not made for it."

He looks at you seriously this time, knowing how hard it is to struggle with fame. Having dealt with not only his own, but his parents' and the effect it had on his family. Even though he knows it's not the best thing to hear, he knows that the best insight he can give you is, "You sort of get used to it."

"What if I never do?" You ask genuinely, "Because I can deal with the dates, the promo for them, and these events. But only when it's on camera." A heavy sigh leaves you when you remember what happened earlier, another example of why that attention you're getting can be so inconvenient, "I was so uncomfortable when that guy came up to me inside."

"That prick?" Matty says straight away, but he notices what he's doing again, so he rephrases it, "The actor?"

"Yeah. He wouldn't get any of the things I was telling him. And then you came over..." The feeling of uncertainty that filled you at that moment comes back as a ghost that makes goosebumps break on your skin, "I didn't know what to do, honestly."

Your boyfriend pales, and stops eating. It's clear now how much of a dickhead he had been earlier, and he apologises for it, "I'm sorry for reacting like that instead of comforting you."

You don't want to make it a big deal, not wanting for that drunk guy to take away from tonight. And you know that Matty saw all the flirting on the livestream, you cannot judge him for being jealous when you would've been too if you were in his position, "It's alright, I get it."

But you sure appreciate how self-aware and thoughtful your boyfriend is when he continues, "No, I went defensive instead of making sure you were okay. And I know you can handle yourself, and you did handle it yourself but I should've thought of only you instead of wanting to get all macho man with the lad."

What you don't expect though, is for another apology to follow. "And while we're apologising, I'm sorry about Ashley's behaviour." It takes you a second to realise he's talking about Halsey but he continues, "You didn't need all of that today and certainly, especially on camera but even afterwards in the party." Matty can't help but shake his head as he frowns, "She never could bite her tongue if something was on her mind but that hit a new low this evening."

"Nonsense," You shake your head, picking up another few chips as you say, "You don't have to apologise for that, for her."

"I know I don't," Matty is instant and even pauses eating as he tells you, "But maybe if in the past, if I had left things a little better, you wouldn't have had to be on the receiving end of that today."

You can see the guilt simmering in his eyes, and that's something you never wish to see. Especially about this specific subject. There's nothing you want him apologising for. "Her not growing up and getting over it is not your issue." You very seriously say, looking into his gorgeous eyes as you promise him, "She didn't ruin my night, and you don't need to apologise."

You lean across the table and take his hand, squeezing a little as you smile, "Having you here with me tonight was one of the best things about it."

Matty can't help but smile as he intertwines your fingers. He tilts his head to the side as he playfully asks, "Not the best thing about it?"

"Oh no no," You can't help but smirk at him, grabbing another chip with your other hand and eating them as you grin, "You gotta know your place."

Matty can't help but laugh, but he indulges you, asking, "Do tell."

He's so beyond easy to wind up, it's a joke. And all it takes is three little words. Your curly haired brunette's face changes entirely when you smirk, "Seeing Ross, obviously."

"Oh come on!" Matty scoffs, pulling his hand from yours to playfully hit the table in fake frustration. It's beyond funny as you can see him wanting to laugh, but he manages to restrain himself. But you can't help but think back to the man who your boyfriend still doesn't believe is now more thirsted over than himself. One day you will show him the depth of stan twitter.

"Did you see him and Amelia when we left?" You have to question as you eat some more of your food, and you almost find yourself flushing a little when you ask, "I wonder if they left together."

Matty smiles, as it wouldn't surprise him after the way he saw his mate looking at your best friend this evening. But he can't help but plead, "Don't put a glass to the wall I beg."

"She's across the hall, so at least we're safe." You chuckle a little, but you can't help but let your mind go a little wild and your lips get a little loose as you add, "However, I'd do anything to be a third."

Never have you seen your boyfriend's jaw fall so fast than it did just then, and it takes everything you have to stop yourself from bursting out laughing. His dramatic leaning back in his chair, shaking his head and crossing his arms, "Wow, okay," makes it even harder to stifle your laughter.

"Oh don't get jealous." You purse your lips to stop your amusement from showing, but you're sure that you're not hiding it very well. "If there's a third, there would be a fourth. I'd bring you."

Matty raises his eyebrows, as he half laughs, half scoffs in disbelief, "Oh how gracious of you!"

You can't hold your laughter then, and it seems your boyfriend can't either. You both let a few laughs out, the last of your food long since forgotten in front of you, but Matty shakes his head as his chuckling slowly subsides, "I'm not sharing you. No way."

"Oh come on." You tease, the smile on your face never faltering as you carry on taking the mick, "Even with our best friends? We've all kissed before."

"What now?" Matty's eyes somehow get wider.

"Well," You chuckle as you correct yourself, "Me and Amelia, you and Ross. What's the difference?"

Your boyfriend shakes his head, "No." A smile is still tugging on his lips though, and you're adamant to get that grin back on his face.

"Come on!" You lean forward and poke his knee, trying now to annoy him into submission.

"No, I don't want them to touch you." Matty bats your hand away, shaking his head again, his curls going everywhere as he says, "No way."

Smirking, you sing-song, "You're jealous."

Matty wraps a curl around his finger a few times before he says, "No."

"Don't lie." You laugh, knowing full well that you're right. So you nod, repeating yourself, "You're so jealous."

You would've bet thousands on him not admitting he was jealous, yet he shocks you first when he easily replies, "Well of course I'm jealous." But it's far easier for him to say, "I love you."

You see his face change from the faux nonchalant demeanour he had put on to tone down his jealousy, to an expression of surprise at himself. But his face didn't fall in fear nor embarrassment. There was a shadow of relief, a sparkle of anticipation rather than dread for your answer. Because, truly, he's spent so many nights thinking about when the best moment to tell you would be. The struggle to keep in those three words has been excruciating, but the need to make it special has been even worse.

But now he's here, letting slip at such a random time, and though he should be worried he's fucked it all up by saying it now, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. His heart beats freely inside his chest, content at the fact that it's all out in the open, just waiting for what you're going to say next.

A massive smile makes its way to your face, your cheeks will be hurting and you know it, because there's nothing and no one that will be able to wipe it off your face. "Yeah?" You giggle because the two of you saying these words to each other like this is so you. And you truly wouldn't have it any other way. That's exactly why you add, "I'd probably be jealous as well because I love you too."

"Give me a kiss." Matty's grin is unlike anything you've seen before, and he leans forward, needing that closeness once more. Of course, you're about to lean forward and kiss him, but a memory springs to mind which keeps you sitting back in your seat.

The smile on your lips is untamable when you say, "Can't reach."

Something in Matty's heart lurches when you say that. The image of you doing the exact same thing to him back on your first date is quick to enter his mind. He can't believe just how much has changed since that day. Never would he have imagined that agreeing to the date and asking for you back at the NME awards would lead to him being in the most meaningful relationship of his life. Never has he felt such love from another person, or has been so in love before.

So there's absolutely no hesitation from him when he smiles, "I can reach."

"I can't reach." You stay where you are, a massive smile still on your face as you sit back needing the past to repeat itself.

Smirking, Matty stands up, "I can reach." and he places his hands on the table dividing you, leaning closer, and he gently takes your chin between his thumb and finger and makes you look up at him. He leans in closer to kiss you but pauses a few inches away to promise, "I'll always reach."

And if you weren't already madly and deeply in love with him, you would have been then. You bridge the gap and kiss the love of your life like you can't wait another second.

You've kissed your boyfriend before a million times, every one of them releasing a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, but this time it feels different. His plush lips slotting between yours, the warmth of his hands cupping your face, the sound of his soft exhales as he moves with you. His tongue poking out slowly to tease yours, an invasion that you accept gracefully with a hum that makes him hold you a little tighter. But it's not rushed, it's not shadowed by lust or need; it's slow and deliberate, intense yet thoughtful, like both of you are trying to memorise what it feels to taste each other's mouth when the novelty of those three words is still fresh on your tongues.

Matty's smile is so soft once he pulls back from the kiss, despite having done reluctantly so. "Say it again."

"I love you." You whisper, needing him to know those words are only ever for him from this moment on. Your heart is his and it forever will be. Nothing will ever change that now.

Matty watches you say that to him, and he can't believe his luck. You're it for him, and he has every intent to cross every milestone with you. Give it a year and he has every intention to have a stone on your left ring finger.

He presses another kiss to your lips just before he promises, "I love you." The small giggle that leaves your lips in answer is one of pure joy. You can't believe that you're so lucky, that you have such a wonderful man who has been your crush for years declaring his love for you.

"Okay, I'm changing my answer," You say randomly, not really bursting the bubble of your moment but piquing at Matty's curiosity.

So he is quick to ask, "To what?"

You definitely get his heart racing when you make clear what it is that you're referring to, "Seeing Ross wasn't the best thing to happen today."

He smirks, prematurely smug about what you're about to say and how it definitely involves him. "Ah, really. What's the best thing now?"

Yet, you remind him of just why he fell absolutely and irrevocably in love with you when you say someone else's name instead of his, "Paul Mescal."

Matty cackles loudly, not having anticipated you saying that at all, but he plays along, "Now that's a crush I can get behind. We have similar taste with that one."

"See?" You grin, "That's why I love you."

~*~*~*~ The End ~*~*~*~

A/N: We're so damn emotional finishing this story. We never anticipated what it was going to become, but we thank you endlessly for all the love you gave it and allowing us to continue to have fun with it. Long live Baby and Matty, we'll miss them loads.

Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @faveficz @indierockgirrl​  @slutformattyhealy  @kmsmedine @cecefaith​ @benkidgenius @avasjunkpile@spicyraccoonlordking@lizzylynch1​ @ofbluesandyellows​ @kipperthedog2004​ @slutforcoffein​ @madamedesmond​ @iamhallucinationnn @imagines4peeps @siwiecola​ @eaglestar31 @neverlieliliac​ @olliewhinchester​ @internetmultifandomfangirl @wellwellhereiam​ @dania7361 @kurdtbean @mawanji @jazzymariexoxoc @picklesandsprinkles @home-of-disaster​ @maelialuv​ @londonalozzy​ @ker0senebunny​ @golden-hoax​ @thouarntsage​ @belledawnidk​ @confusedcrayon​ @how2understand​ @harringt8ns​ @sheisaaantisocial​ @brumantrack @real-actual-human-person​ @eddiemunsonsgroupie @hemmings8376​ @darlingbravebelle @defnotgracee​ @fabulouslyflamboyant5  @deamus-liv​ @itsjustsocialimplications​ @deamus-liv​ @itsjustsociallimplications​ @lauren--maex​ @ithinkivegonemad11​ @stclen-sweethearts​ @stuck-in-fictional-worlds @befrwime​ @getbillzoned​ @hazskillerqueen​ @conanbeshifting​ @thereisaplaceintheheart​ @jasmine06blog​ @blancastans​​ @luvrattyhealy @wendyspotatopeeler​​ @oh-caro​ @journey-to-consistency​ @kizzywh​ @ihatemat-tyhealy​ @l0ve-0f-my-life @julezs-bl0g @geeksareunique @eddiemunsonsgroupie @procrastinatinglikeapro @inlovewrobin @houseofdilfs @wh0re4zaynmalik @qtheressurections @hrryshoney @sinarainbows @behindmygreyeyes @oliviahickson @strugglingsophieee

[uns4lted]

ֶָ֢⊹𐙚 𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳: 𝘚𝘢𝘦 𝘐𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘚𝘢𝘦 𝘐𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘹 𝘨𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯

𝘛𝘢𝘨𝘴/𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: -𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺/𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴 (𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘴) -𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 -𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 -𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 /𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 -𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 /𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 -𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘰𝘤

𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 4 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘴𝘢𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

a/n: i recommend listening to About You while reading :> word count: 3k+

Touchdown, Japan.

Sae’s footsteps echoed in the airport as he made his way through the arrivals hall, the familiar sounds bustling all around him. He hadn’t planned to stay here—not for long, at least. He was only supposed to renew his passport, get some paperwork done, and then return to Spain. That was the plan.

But when his eyes skimmed over the crowd, they were searching for something… or someone. A glimpse of you. A ridiculous hope, he told himself, as he adjusted his grip on his duffel bag. But the thought had crept in all the same.

When he saw no familiar face in the crowd, he let out a small, resigned breath. His manager was already arranging a car, discussing schedules and paperwork, but Sae waved him off with a polite nod. "I’ll take care of things from here," he said, his tone final. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he knew he wouldn’t find it by sticking to anyone else’s plan.

Outside, he boarded the first train he saw, settling into a window seat as the city gave way to a peaceful landscape. The train sped along, and Sae found himself captivated by the scenery—the cherry trees, the distant mountains, the unending sprawl of fields. He pulled a postcard from his coat pocket, a small, well-worn relic he’d kept since Spain. You’d sent it to him years ago. The design was simple, almost dull: an old-fashioned black-and-white train winding along a cliff’s edge.

Turning it over, he reread your message, even though he already knew it by heart. It was written in your familiar handwriting, a little uneven but always full of love.

Hope you’re seeing beautiful things. I imagine Spain is everything you wanted. But maybe, if you’re ever back, you’ll think of me.

The train passed into a tunnel, casting everything around him in darkness, and he folded the postcard back into his pocket, lost in the memory of you. When they emerged from the tunnel, the view beyond his window transformed into a stunning coastline. Sunlight bounced off the waves, painting the ocean with flashes of silver. It was breathtaking—the most beautiful scene he’d ever seen.

The train began to slow, and as he glanced up, he realized it was his stop. He stood, clinging his duffel bag as he made his way onto the platform. With a subtle motion, he slipped his camera from his bag, feeling the weight of it in his hand. He crossed the tracks carefully, each step steady as he let the place wash over him.

He lifted the camera, framing the shoreline and snapping a picture. The waves lapped at the shore, soft and endless. A breeze rolled through, bringing with it a hint of salt and a strange, stirring sense of nostalgia. The memory of you, of your smile and the way you’d looked at him with such faith, swept over him. And he let it linger, if only for a moment.

Sae wandered through the park, hands tucked into his pockets as petals from cherry blossom trees drifted down around him. The branches overhead formed a soft, pink canopy, and sunlight slipped through the gaps, scattering across the ground in shifting patches. He lifted his hand, catching a falling blossom between his fingers. Its delicate texture reminded him of how things could be, how beauty often carried on just a moment before slipping away.

The path led him up a gentle incline to a balcony perched on a cliff. He knew this place well; it was one he returned to whenever he wanted to feel closer to you. He leaned against the railing, the cool metal steady beneath his hands as he took in the view. From here, he could see everything—the stretch of the town below, the winding river that glistened like a ribbon of silver, and the distant peaks softened by mist. But more than the view, it was what he felt here that drew him back, time and time again.

It's somewhere he goes when he needs to remember your face.

In a blink of an eye, he looked to his right, and his heart nearly stopped. There you were—or at least, the memory of you. Your face was turned towards him, lips displayed into that soft smile he knew so well. It was as if you were standing there beside him, that soothing familiarity radiating from your presence. He felt the corners of his mouth almost lift, the urge to smile back at you stirring in his chest unbidden.

But the vision slipped away as quickly as it had come, leaving him staring at the empty space beside him. He turned his gaze back to the horizon, letting the steady rhythm of the wind and the endless blue calm him. Memories came flooding back—of when he first saw you, of that spark he couldn’t quite define, of laughter and conversations that dawdled far longer than he’d expected.

This place, this view, always brought him back to you, a reminder that some faces remain etched in memory, even when they're no longer near. And as he stood there, he let those memories wash over him, soft and unspoken, held close like a promise only he understood.

Sae closed his eyes, leaning against the balcony railing, letting the wind carry him back to that late afternoon on the school field. The impression drifted into focus, clear and vivid.

The sun hung low, casting long shadows across the field as Sae practiced alone, his movements sharp and precise, each kick hitting the net with practiced ease. He’d been at it for hours, sweat running down his neck, his breaths coming in short bursts as he pushed himself harder, aiming for perfection.

“Alright, that’s enough, Mr. Midfielder.”

He turned, startled to see you walking towards him, a grin on your face. You held out a water bottle and towel as your eyes glinting with amusement.

“I’m not done,” he murmured, though his voice came out rough. He ran a hand through his damp hair, trying to mask his surprise.

“Sure you’re not,” you said, chuckling as you crossed the grass. “But you’re looking about one more kick away from collapsing, and I’m not about to let you pass out here.”

Sae shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips as he reached out to take the bottle from your hand. “You’re persistent, you know that?” he said, unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink. The cool water soothed his dry throat, and he was grateful, though he’d never admit it.

“Comes with the job,” you teased, handing him the towel. “Besides, someone’s got to keep you in line.”

He looked at you, his usual guarded expression softening just a little. “And you think you’re up for that?”

“Of course I am,” you replied, shrugging with a playful smile. “I’ve already got the towel and water bottle, so I’m halfway there.”

He gave a small huff of amusement, wiping his face with the towel. For a moment, he let himself enjoy the easy back-and-forth, a rare sense of calm settling over him. You watched him with a smile, as if seeing past the edges he kept so carefully sharpened. And something about that made him feel... lighter.

The next morning, Sae found himself on the beach, watching as people played near the water, their laughter mixed with the sound of the waves. The scent of salt and the cool breeze brought back a memory so lucid it felt almost tangible.

You were out there, dancing in the waves, the water lapping at your ankles as you tried to keep ahead of each incoming swell. You moved with a carefree energy, running and splashing like a child, a grin stretched wide across your face.

Every time the waves surged forward, you let out a laugh, darting just out of reach. Sae sat back on the picnic blanket spread over the sand, his gaze fixed on you, feeling his usual guarded self slip away in your presence.

Your laughter carried over the beach, a melody that cut through the steady flow of the ocean. It was a sound he could have listened to for hours—bright, effortless, and wide open.

Your hair caught the breeze, lifting in the sunlight, and for a moment, you turned towards him, raising a hand to wave, a joyful greeting that made his heart stutter. He raised his own hand, waving back, feeling his lips tug into a faint smile, one he couldn’t hold back.

He stayed there, watching you move with that unrestrained joy, a kind of happiness he hadn’t known he was missing until he saw it in you. You made the beach feel like more than just sand and water; you made it a place where, for a moment, he could let go, lose himself in the beauty of the present.

Later, the two of you sat side by side on the picnic blanket, the sun dipping low over the horizon. Sae rested his head in your lap, his eyes drifting shut as he felt your fingers thread gently through his magenta hair. The world around you both grew quiet, the distant sound of waves mingling with the warmth of the sand beneath you.

It was as though time had slowed, wrapping the moment in stillness. Sae opened his eyes and looked up, meeting your gaze. There was a softness, a kind of intimacy that didn’t need words. He could see himself in the reflection of your eyes, and for once, he didn’t feel the need to look away. It was a look that held a promise, something deeper than he could put into words, and he let himself stay there, letting go of his usual walls.

You smiled, a soft, almost shy curve of your lips, and he felt his heart tighten, a warmth spreading through his chest. There was something about the way you looked at him—as if you saw everything he was, and loved him anyway. In that instant, you both seemed to share the same thought, a secret idea that didn’t need to be spoken aloud: like you and he were married inside your heads.

He felt your hand settle against his cheek, gentle and warm, and he leaned into your touch. In that moment, there was nothing else he needed, nowhere else he’d rather be. It was just the two of you, alive in the quietness, connected by the simple, unspoken understanding that you were home in each other’s presence.

Sae moved quietly through the art museum, his footsteps soft against the polished floor as he made his way through familiar halls. This was a place he’d come to because of you, drawn back by the memories that faltered here as brilliantly as the paintings on the walls. He could almost feel your presence beside him, as if at any moment, he’d hear your excited voice pointing out the details, sharing the stories behind each piece.

He remembered how your eyes would light up whenever you came across a painting you loved, how you’d trace your fingers in the air along the brushstrokes as if absorbing every detail. You had a passion for art that he’d never quite understood before meeting you, but he loved listening to you talk.

You’d explain a painting’s history, the artist’s intention, every little thing you found beautiful about it. And he’d stand there, mesmerized not by the art but by the way you saw it, your voice like a gentle melody filling the silent spaces of the museum.

On one particular visit, he’d kept something tucked in his pocket, waiting for the right moment to surprise you. As you finished admiring a piece, he’d pulled out two cinema tickets he’d been hiding all afternoon, holding them out with that casual reserved look he wore when he was pleased with himself.

The way your face lit up when you saw them, the excitement dancing in your eyes—it was a look he’d never forget. You’d laughed, taking his hand and squeezing it, a soft ‘thank you’ slipping from your lips as you leaned into him. That sweet, simple moment had stayed with him, a memory he cherished in quiet spaces like now.

The museum felt empty without your voice filling the silence, without you by his side to make him see the art in a way only you could. He paused in the gallery, surrounded by paintings and memories, feeling the weight of what was gone but also grateful for the echoes that remained.

Sae rode his rented bicycle through the busy streets, the soft glow of streetlights casting a warm light on the city as the night unfolded around him. He pedaled steadily, feeling the cool night air on his face, watching people pass by. There was something strangely familiar about this, a comfort he hadn’t realized he missed. Was it the feeling of riding through Japan’s crowded streets… or was it the thought of doing this with you?

He could still see it in his mind—both of you biking side by side, weaving through the evening crowd, laughter filling the air. You’d always insist on stopping at the small market, grabbing snacks and sharing excited smiles as you pointed out your favorite treats. He loved watching you in moments like that, so carefree, so effortlessly joyful. His own smile would creep in as he watched you, happy just to see you enjoy the little things.

After the market, you’d take each other’s hand and walk with your bikes, finally making your way to the spot you both cherished—a clearing just outside the city where the night sky felt close enough to touch.

You brought out a paper lantern, and in the faint glow of a single match, you carefully wrote your wish on its surface: a wish that he’d remember you, think of you even when he was far away, chasing his dreams across an ocean. You knew he needed to go, that his goals couldn’t be put on hold, and you would never be the one to ask him to stay.

And Sae, who rarely allowed himself to be sentimental, found himself writing his own wish on that same lantern—a simple hope that, somehow, he’d see you again when he returned. Together, you released the lantern into the night, both of you watching as it floated up, a small glowing promise against the vastness of the sky. It drifted higher, carrying both your wishes as a gentle silence fell between you.

Then he saw it: a single tear tracing down your cheek. You brushed at it, trying to hide, but he saw and he felt an ache that he hadn’t expected. Without thinking, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the lantern disappeared into the stars above.

He held you tightly, grounding himself in that one last moment, trying to memorize every detail. And as you rested against him, he knew he would carry this memory with him—tucked away, always near, even from thousands of miles away.

In the quiet hours of dawn, Sae sat in the train, watching the world pass by outside the window as he headed to a familiar place, one he hoped you’d still go to. It was early, the sunlight barely breaking through the clouds, casting a soft glow on the quiet city below. As he looked around the empty seats, he couldn’t help but think of you sitting beside him, just like old times.

He remembered those mornings when you’d board the train with him, sliding into the seat beside him with that easy smile. You’d reach into your bag, pull out your earphones, and offer him one. The right one for him, the left for you.

And then the two of you would sit there, heads leaning close, sharing a single song as the train swayed gently down the tracks. Music filled the silence, a simple comfort between you both as the city woke around you.

The train slowed, the familiar chime signaling his stop, and Sae stood, feeling the slight weight of anticipation settle in his chest. He stepped off and made his way through the station, weaving through the early morning crowd, heading towards the cafe you both loved.

The place where you’d once sat together for hours, lost in conversation, watching the day unfold through the large windows that framed a view of the city and the mountains beyond.

When he reached the cafe, he slipped inside, inhaling the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee. He ordered a latte—the drink you’d convinced him to try years ago and clasped the warm cup as he found a seat near the window.

He took a sip, feeling the taste of memories settle on his tongue. Outside, the view stretched on, open and endless, he felt that ache for what was lost, for what could have been.

And then, he heard it. A voice, soft but unmistakable that made his heart stop.

“Sae?”

He turned slowly, his breath catching in his chest. And there you were, standing just a few feet away, looking at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. You looked… exactly as he remembered, yet somehow even more vibrant, like the years had only made you more beautiful.

Sae’s breath caught as he looked at you, a small, tearful smile pulling at your lips. “…You’re here,” you finally managed, voice soft and unsure, as though the words might break the spell. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

The two of you stood there, caught in the intensity of each other’s gaze. It felt as if the world had faded around you, leaving just the two of you, suspended in a moment you both had thought might never come.

Sae’s heart thudded steadily, each beat filled with the memories and promises he’d carried all this time. He took in the gentle glow in your eyes, that familiar warmth that he’d missed more than he ever allowed himself to admit.

He swallowed, trying to keep his expression steady even as a rush of emotions filled his chest. “I’m back, just for a bit,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. “But I… I didn’t forget about you. Not for a second.”

Your gaze softened, and a gentle smile touched your lips, one that hadn’t changed at all. “You remembered,” you murmured, half to yourself. “Even after all this time.”

Sae let a faint smile tug at his lips as he glanced down, then back to you, realizing he’d never forgotten any detail. “You were always right here,” he said softly, tapping his chest.

You laughed lightly, assurance slipping back a little while, filling the distance that had once kept you apart.

Sae glanced at the coffee in his hand, gathering himself. “Do you, uh… still drink lattes?”

Your eyes sparkled with that familiar hint of playfulness. “Only if you're buying.”

And as you eased into the comfort of each other’s presence, the years of distance and silence melted away, leaving only the closeness of the present. The past became a distant memory, and in that moment, it felt like you’d never been apart.

You and Sae had held on, had hoped, and at last, found your way back to each other in the end.

a/n: i'll be damned if i didn't finish it with a good ending.

likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

[whimsicalpolitical]

Use me - Matty Healy x Reader

in which you always come to matty when your boyfriend doesn’t get you off

content warning: 18+mdni, smut, p in v, cheating, face sitting, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), dirty talk, handjob, aftercare,

“Sorry, where you uhm, going somewhere?” You ask Matty, pointing to his loosened tie and shirt.

“Nah, came back from dinner,” your eyes shoot up at his face. Dinner sounds romantic. He sees right through you though and eases your nerves, “dinner with my mates, love.”

You nod, taking another sip of your hot tea which matty brought you five minutes after banging on his door in the middle of the night.

“D’you need something else?” He asks, “anything at all?”

“No, thank you,” you smile, sinking deeper into the couch, hoping you could stay here forever.

Matty hums and sits next to you, at the end of the couch. He’s throwing his head back slowly, rubbing his forehead.

You watch. You trace the vein under his neck until it disappears into his shirt. His tousled hair reminds you of all the times you tugged at his curls because it was too much. Fuck. You’re still sticky between your legs. You were not able to chase your own pleasure because it doesn’t matter to your boyfriend, it never did and it never will.

Matty always gives a shit, perhaps that’s why you’re here, because you know you’ll feel good. Or maybe you’re here because he shows you an escape from the reality and he’s the only one who has that ability.

“Do I have something on my face?” He jokes, his eyes on you.

You shake your head, “no, it’s perfect as always.”

“Charmer.” Matty spreads his legs further and turns to you, “now, would you like to talk about why you came to mine at two in the morning or should we skip that part where you tell me your little boy isn’t enough for you?”

“Matty-“ you tilt your head and want to apologize, that you’re not using him for your own good but to tell him you enjoy his company.

“Actually, I would like to know what happened this time. Couldn’t he make you finish or did he not care in the first place, c’mon what was it?”

You sigh before locking eyes with him. The brown eyes you can’t stop thinking about. Ever.

“The second,” you respond with shame, “but I don’t care anymore, I just want you, can’t stop thinking about you.”

Matty lets a laugh slip out of his mouth before he moves closer to you, taking your legs and dragging them across his lap.

“Oh, darling, that’s a fucked up situation you’re in, s’ a real shame though- for him I mean.”

His hands are going up and down your thighs, teasing you, making you go crazy.

“What did you say to him ‘fore you left, sure didn’t say you were going to see me.”

You shrug, “told him I need to get work done, I guess.”

Matty hums, his hands now closer to the place you want him the most.

His knuckles brush against your lower stomach which is on display because your shirt had risen up. He sends goosebumps down your body at the feeling of his warm hands on your bare body and you want nothing but to feel them everywhere.

Matty wants to be close to you as well so he takes the opportunity and drags you onto his lap with his arms under your knees.

You don’t have time to make a sound because his mouth is on you again.

You part your lips willingly, gasping when he lurches forward and slides his tongue along yours, biting and sucking at your lips. Matty groans softly at the faint noises you make, your fingers tightening in his hair, the pleasing sting in his scalp sending jolts down to his hard cock.

“mmm matty” You’re panting, desperate for air he won't give you. He likes this—making you gasp, making you weak, making you forget entirely about your boyfriend.

Your hips move over his’ one slow time, gasping at the friction.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grips your hips and drags you across his bulge again, enjoying the pleasure himself, “is’ good?”

“Yeah-“ you breathe out, his hands kneading your hips to pull you back and forth over his hard cock beneath his jeans. With his eyes closed, lost in the feeling of your tongue in his mouth, his hands finding his way to your ass.

“Matty-“ you gasp, as his jeans hit your clit over and over. You can’t wait, it’s impossible. You tried all night to chase your pleasure but how, if your boyfriend stops when he’s done and doesn’t help you.

“Please, can we-“

Matty is quick to lay you down on the couch, dragging your jeans with your panties down your legs. He shakes his head though when he throws your jeans down the couch.

“I don’t want you to beg, alright? M’sure you’ve done enough of that tonight. I just want you to use me, make yourself feel good, the way you deserve.”

You bite down on to your bottom lip, nodding.

“Want to kiss you here first, that alright?” He asks, spreading your legs with his hand.

“Fuck- yes.”

“Mhm,” he leans down, eyes looking up at you one more time before his gaze fixates on your dripping cunt.

"Fuckin' christ. You're a mess down here. You really tried, hm?” he says, and you can feel every word blow against you.

"Uh-huh," you say, a kiss sucked to your thigh striking stealing all thought from your mind.

"Get close?" he asks, with another kiss, hands kneading at your thighs and ass as they wrap around you and try to tug you closer.

You nod, hoping he can see you as your eyes slip closed with the feeling of him right here, between your legs.

“That’s fucking cruel though,” he chuckles, “fucking dickhead, would make you come everyday for the rest of my bloody life.”

He bites the inside of your thighs until you feel a soft, teasing kiss to your clit. You shudder and whine and your hand falls to his curls to encourage him to give you more.

“Please just-“

“Darling, ease up, like I said, use me, c’mon let’s switch places.”

You frown, not knowing what he actually means but it gets clear when Matty shoves a pillow under his head and you straddle him but he tugs you up his chest.

“Wait-“ you slow him down, “shirt off?”

“Sure,” he says, opening the four buttons that were closed, “now.. up.”

He's licking his lips and looking up at you - all over every inch of you - eating you alive with his stare.

He pushes and pulls you then, dragging you up his chest until your knees are settled either side of his face. You can feel the gust of his breath against your thighs iust before he hauls you forward a little more until his half face is completely covered by your cunt, only his eyes and the bridge of his nose visible now.

“Fuck, love, need me so bad you’re dripping down your thighs. I’m not making you wait, sit down, darling.”

“That’s it.” You settle down slowly onto his face, listening as he guides you down until you feel the first broad swipe of his tongue up through your folds.

"Perfect,” he says, swallowing the taste of you.

He kisses around your clit, nudging it with the curved tip of his nose when he finally licks up into you again.

And then, he's pulling your flush to his face and feasting.

The noise that leaves you is stupid. Somewhere between a gasp and a moan and a question all at once. His nose is pressed against you, his laughter fanning out across your mound as you try not to squirm and wiggle against him, fearful of crushing his head beneath your weight, or at the very least suffocating him.

His face burrows deeper, his hands holding you firm, squeezing and scraping calloused fingertips against your delicate skin.

His hands move from anchoring you to his face, locked around your thighs, to pressing against your ass, gripping the globes of them in each of his broad hands.

He grunts, squeezing your thighs up to your hips as he pulls your clit into his mouth, lathering it with his spit and your wetness. It's white-hot: the pressure on your sensitive little bundle of nerves, the insistent bump of his nose against your clit as he teases his tongue around your tight hole.

"Matty, Matty, fuck," is all you can manage, sweet little gasps that he drinks in, his hips bucking involuntarily with the delicious pain of your fingers pulling at his scalp. You're losing grip on the real world and slipping elsewhere, and he wants to get you there.

One of Matty’s hands slides between your legs, easing them open even more, and rests on your belly, shifting to your ribcage and helping you steady yourself atop him. His fingertips graze your breasts under your shirt.

“Mhmm, fuck, perfect,” he mumbles.

The sounds are slick and obscene, mingled with your drunken sighs and words of encouragement as you curl your fingers against the couch uselessly.

"Matty,” you whimper, your hips rolling against his face, “so good, shit.”

He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly.

He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly. He'll imprint the feeling of him on your skin forever-if he hasn't already. He'll make sure you never have another man like you have him.

"I'm... oh, fuck, I'm gonna..." Your hips buck wildly, and a growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you steadfast and firm to his face. He sucks your clit back into his mouth and fixes his tongue to you, wiggling slightly as he feels you stiffen above him. "Matty, shit.”

He knows. You're already coming. You’re both not surprised, you’ve been trying the whole evening and the orgasm that’s been stolen is now more than back.

“Yeah, like that, darling,” he praises, lapping at your cunt in the same pace.

Your hand leaves his hair and braces next to your other one on the couch, ensuring you don't fall over as your thighs shake uncontrollably and your mouth drops open in a keening whine. Matty keeps sucking at your clit long after your orgasm fades and you cry out from the overstimulation.

Gently, you reach down to tug his hair, and he reluctantly pulls away. He's so hard he can't conjure much mental activity besides getting his dick wet.

“Alright?” He asks with a big grin on his face.

“More than,” you respond.

Your chest is heaving as you try to pick your leg up and get off him, but your strength fails you. Instead, Matty grabs your hips and sits up, your cunt sliding down to sit on top of his erection. Experimentally, you grind down on him, watching a muscle in his jaw feather.

"Need you. Are you going to let me take your pants off?" you ask him, teasing, your finger tracing the metal of his belt buckle.

He grits his teeth, letting you take control for a moment, sliding the belt achingly slow out of each loop.

“Do anything you want to, you’re in control. Don’t need to act all modest with me.”

You dip your body low to his chest and press gentle kisses all the way down to his stomach.

Matty moans brokenly when you shuck his jeans down his legs and squeeze his hard length before it can slap up against his stomach. Your tongue darts out and licks up the precum pooling at his slit, making his cock twitch in your grasp. “jesus,” he groans. “You don’t have to, darling, you can make this all about yourself.”

You ignore him.

Your soft lips part around the throbbing head of his cock. Squeezing his strong thighs to ground yourself, you swirl your tongue around the tip and take him deeper, your throat expanding to accommodate him in your mouth. Your thumb rubs over his ‘we are kings’ tattoo like you always do, you look at him as you do so. His eyes are watery, blinking hard to expel the tears, his hand instinctively cradling the crown of your head to keep you on him, keep you choking around him.

“Christ, fuck,—” His fingers curl in your hair and gently urge you off his cock; you pout, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. His dick jumps at the sight, lying hard on his stomach.

“Don’t pout, don’t need to come in your gorgeous mouth if you want me again,” he rasps.

“Fine,” you playfully roll your eyes but of course you listen and crawl up his body until your hips are flush, his hardness slotted, thick and throbbing, between your folds. The hum that leaves your mouth is wanton, your teeth tugging at your bottom lip. His hands move to your lower back, digging into the flesh just above your ass so you’re forced to roll your hips along his shaft.

“Have at it, darling,” he says.

You lift yourself up but instead of sinking down you take his cock into your hand and start moving up and down.

Matty shudders and grips your wrist, “fuckin, d’you want to kill me?”

You only giggle and shake your head innocently, “want you to fuck me now, I’ve been good.”

“Yeah, you reckon you are?” he reaches down, his hands going to your hips and guiding you down onto him. You both let out a moan as he fills you, the sensation almost overwhelming.

“You feel so good, love,” he breathes, looking down at where his cock disappears, “want you all the time n’ I can’t fucking stand the thought of you being with him.”

You look at each other, pupils dilated, mouths parted. You don’t move, not just yet, but you lean forward to crash your lips against Matty’s as a response.

Your hand grips the back of his neck to keep him exactly where he is, his tongue gliding across yours, filthy sounds coming from the both of you when you finally start to move.

“Yeah- fuck, you’re so good.”

You can feel his gaze on you, and it only served to heighten the pleasure building inside you. You start to ride him properly, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, his grip almost painful as he struggles to maintain control. The sounds he is making are sinful, the low moans and gasps escaping his lips spurring you on.

“Oh fuck, Matty,” you moan, “you make me feel so good.”

“Y-yeah?” He gasps, his thumb coming down your body to rub your clit in a torturous, slow pace, wanting to build the pressure, “s’ what I want, babe, need you to feel good.”

You moan again when he lowers his face to kiss you all over your breasts, sucking and biting at your nipple, offering you another way of stimulation.

“Need you, Matty, need you,” you repeat, your head falling against his shoulder while you keep your pace, your hips moving up and down.

“You have me, love,” he groans, moving his thumb a bit faster.

You clench around him and he can’t help himself but thrust into you so deep it makes you scream his name so loud you thank yourself he doesn’t have neighbors.

“Keep doin’ that,” he moans, “fuck.”

“Please,” you beg, just wanting to come with him all together, “Matty please.”

“I’ve got you,” he says, his brown eyes melting when he sees your fucked out face, “wanna come so badly again? Couldn’t feel good all evening and you need me for it?”

“Yes,” you admit, your hips slowing down, not having the energy like you had in the beginning, “fuck- I can’t.”

Matty hums and grips your hips, helping you to ride him faster, “like that, s’good, rub your clit for me though.”

You don’t waist a second and start as fast as when he stopped.

“Fuck, matty.”

“You’re perfect,” he says, moving his hips with yours, doubling the pleasure, “I- fuck, are you close?”

You know he is. His thrusts are faltering, eyes closed, head thrown back, his hands definitely bruising you but you don’t care. You want him to mark you. And honestly you couldn’t care less, not when you’re at the edge, letting yourself fall into him completely.

You clench around him again, a sign that you are close.

“Kiss me,” you whine, “plea-“

He does, it’s not a perfect, sweet kiss. He’s moaning against you, lips messily on yours, licking into your mouth as you both move together.

"You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you're worthless."

Matty’s mouth is everywhere-his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous," he groans, “fucks sake, my girl.”

He spurs you on and you can’t go any longer.

“Matty, im gonna come, can I- fuck.”

You whimper, your body trembling as the pleasure mounts, your mind going blank as Matty’s cock slams into you harder, deeper. Your hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours-it is too much, and you feel yourself spiraling toward release.

"You don’t need to ask for permission, are you mental?" he laughs, “come for me, love, whenever you want to.”

With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snaps, and you scream his name as your orgasm tears through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him as he groans deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans, your hips slowing down as his hips slam into you one strong time, releasing in you with a whimper, groan and moan, “jesus fucking christ.”

You whine, only grinding softly against him until you’re both too fucking exhausted to move.

You stay like this though- with him softening inside of you until he accidentally slips out making the both of you hiss.

“I really really like you,” you say, not being able to lift your forehead from his shoulder just yet, “I swear I’m not using you for this.”

“It’s alright,” he soothes you, hand brushing through your hair, “I’m the last to judge, m’just glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

After a long while Matty decides to lift you up, keeping your legs wrapped around him. You whine at the new coldness, air hitting your naked form.

“I’ll just need to clean you up, darling, you okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum holding on to him, “bed though, please?”

“Course,” he says, pushing the door with his foot softly that leads you into his bedroom, “I’ll be right back then.”

He lays you down softly but before he can walk to the bathroom you pull him down, holding his face to give him a sweet kiss.

He’s kissing all over your face then, asking you multiple times if you need anything, praises leaving his mouth, “you’ve done so good, love, going to let me get you a towel?”

“Fine,” you groan, rolling your eyes and pushing him away.

While he waddles over to the bathroom, slipping a pair of boxers on while doing so, you get yourself a piece of clothing as well. A simple black shirt from Matty’s drawer.

You flop down onto the bed then and not even a minute later he’s back, a wet towel in his hand and a lotion.

“Let me take care of you,” he says, kneeling on the edge of the bed and spreading your legs, “it’s what you deserve.”

You can’t help but smile at his sweetness, letting him drag the towel up your thighs to your core, hissing at the soreness.

“M’sorry,” he apologizes, being as careful as he can be, “even used warm water, thought it would be more pleasant than cold.”

“It’s alright,” you nod, “thank you.”

His brows are furrowed in that intense way of his, and you are lost, as always, in the precision of it all — how someone so careless about most things could be so careful with you.

When he finally sets the towel aside, his hands replace it, gliding along your thigh with a gentle grip. He reaches for the lotion he brought, squeezing a bit into his hand before warming it between his fingers. The scent is faint, familiar, like something he’d chosen just for you, and he slowly works it into your skin, thumbs pressing softly in circles along the tops of your legs.

You hum, a sound low in your throat, and he glances up at you, his mouth quirking into a half-smile. "Feel good, love?"

You nod, letting your head rest back on the pillows, eyes drifting shut as his hands continue their slow, steady rhythm.

"Matty?"

"Yeah?"

There is a pause, the silence stretching as you weigh the words you’re holding back. You swallow, feeling the weight of them settle in your chest before you finally let them go. "I think I want to break up with him."

For the first time that night, his hands still, his fingers still warm against your skin as he looks up, his gaze locking onto yours, eyes dark and searching. "You sure?" he asks, voice rough but soft. "I mean… I’d definitely drop that wanker if I were you. But… are you sure?"

You nod, your own voice quieter than you expected. "Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t…" you hesitate, trying to find the right words, "I don’t feel right with him. He’s a selfish bastard, Matty. Only cares about himself. Never really… I don’t know. Not like you do."

The corner of his mouth lifts, just a hint of satisfaction, but he covers it with a quick raise of his brow, setting the lotion bottle aside.

"About time, I’d say. I mean, you deserve better than some bloke who’s all talk and no bloody follow-through." He moves closer, leaning in so his face is just inches from yours. "What kind of idiot would treat you like that? He’s the one who’s missing out.”

"Yeah… I just kept thinking things would get better, you know? Like maybe I was the problem."

Matty’s scoff is loud, dismissive, and his hand finds yours, fingers threading through yours with a surprising softness.

"Nah, not a chance. Don’t you dare let him put that on you. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever walked into his life, and if he was too stupid to see that? Then he deserves what he gets." His fingers squeeze yours, grounding and reassuring. "But you already know that. Just needed a little push?”

You nod, squeezing back. "Guess so."

He lets out a soft chuckle, leaning back just enough to take you in, his gaze lingering on your face as he tilts his head.

“You shouldn’t be with someone who’s not good for you, you know?”

You nod, leaning forward to kiss his cheek and pull him up by his biceps, “you’re right, and that’s why I’m here.”

Matty gets the hint immediately, letting himself be drawn up until he’s lying half on top of you, chest pressing against yours, his weight warm and solid as he settles against you. His head dips down, burying into the crook of your neck, and he lets out a soft, contented sigh, his breath warm against your skin.

“Been wanting this all day,” he murmurs, his voice a little rough, like he’s barely holding back some deeper feeling. “Just you, here with me. None of that rubbish, none of him messing with your head. Just us.

You hum, the sound vibrating in your chest as you feel him relax against you, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair, brushing it back from your face with a tenderness that sends warmth flooding through you.

“Can I bring you anything? Water? Tea? Anything you need, just say the word.”

You smile, shaking your head slightly. “No, Matty, I’m good. You’ve done enough already, honestly. Thank you.”

He lifts his head, just enough so he can see your face, his eyes searching yours with that familiar intensity. “Enough? Don’t say that. Not a chance I’m leaving you without everything you could possibly want, got it?”

You squeeze his arm gently. “Well, in that case, just stay here with me. That’s all I want.”

His lips curve into a grin, his eyes warming. “Now that’s the easiest thing you could’ve asked for. I’m not going anywhere.”

“How about this: we sleep in tomorrow. Really let ourselves be lazy, yeah? Then I’ll take you somewhere nice, like that bakery on the corner. We’ll get those ridiculous pastries you like so much. What d’you think?”

You smile, the thought of it filling you with a cozy sense of comfort. “That sounds… perfect, actually. Can we get those chocolate croissants?”

“Anything you want.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll get a dozen if that’s what it takes to see you smile like that.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, his expression softening as he looks at you. “Deserve to feel like this all the time. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Least of all some idiot who doesn’t know what he’s got.”

“Thank you, Matty,” you whisper, meaning it more than you can say.

“Just glad you’re here.” His eyes hold yours for a long moment, then he settles back down, pulling you closer until you’re tangled together. He murmurs one last thing, just as you’re drifting off.

“Sleep well, darling. Wake me if you need something or just feeling lonely.”

You giggle as you start to rub small, slow circles along the back of his head, your fingertips grazing his scalp. He lets out a soft sound, almost a purr, and relaxes even more against you, his kisses drifting down to the corner of your mouth, lingering there as if he’s savoring every second.

“I definitely will,” you joke, “good night.”

“Night,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder blade before you’re both drifting off.

[byyourside28]

Both

Matty x Reader x Zayn

WC: 5.1K

Warning: Pure filth (3some, male and female oral, double penetration)

Summary: You take both of your boys.

A/N: I had to post this because of the stairway to the sky tour<333 and this isn't edited because I can't find the edited version so ignore the mistakes<33

The further I move down the hall, I can hear a soft beat coming from my home studio where a light is filtered out from behind the slightly ajar door. I knock twice with my knuckles before pushing the door open, Zayn’s head snapping to me instantly.

Sending Zayn a smirk as I lean against the door frame as he watches me. His eyes roam up and down my body and it only takes a second of him staring before he looks away, pausing the beat before turning his chair and facing me fully.

“Well...Didn’t you say I could I can use the studio whenever?” He questions with an almost knowing smirk on his lips. “Why’re you up, petal?”

“Maybe because someone decided to break in and mess with my equipment?” I trail off, picking at a nonexistent fuzz on my cotton shorts while trying to hold back a smile.

Zayn raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider before spinning back around to the computer. “I did not break in; I simply took advantage of your negligence. Besides, I couldn't resist the temptation of this beautiful studio.”

I push off the door frame and walk further into the room. “Well, you better have made something amazing to compensate for your trespassing.”

“C’mere and you can hear for yourself.” Zayn turns in his chair, patting his lap invitingly. I raise an eyebrow at his gesture, a cheeky smile playing at the corners of my lips. Slowly, I saunter over to him, my steps deliberate and calculated. As I approach, Zayn's eyes never waver from mine, a silent challenge passing between us.

Zayn’s arms snake around my waist, pulling me down and onto his lap before turning back to the soundboard. His hand reaches out to press a few keys, and the beat that had been paused earlier begins to play through the speakers. The room is instantly filled with a pulsating rhythm, vibrating through my body but I can’t even focus on the beat.

My gaze is magnetically drawn to his hand, the canvas of his sun-kissed skin is a tapestry, cloaked in an interwoven narrative of ink. His veins rise like secret pathways—untamed rivers mapping their path up the landscape of his arms. Even from this distance, I could almost taste the bitter tinge of ink on his skin and it has me clenching my thighs, unintentionally squirming on Zayn’s lap.

“Everything okay, petal?” Zayn purrs against the shell of my ear and the vibrations of his voice have me gripping onto his thigh. “Like the song?”

“It’s perfect.” I reply tightly, swallowing harshly as I try to regain control of my racing pulse. Zayn's hand tightens around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer to him, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body. “I might just have to forgive you for trespassing.” I tease, running my fingers lightly over the intricate tattoos adorning his skin.

Each stroke of my fingertips elicits a reaction from Zayn, a subtle twitch or a suppressed gasp. He tries to hide it, but I can feel his body betray him under me. His lips ghost along my upper jaw, sending shivers down my spine, as he whispers, "I knew you'd like it." The words melt into my skin, igniting a fire within me.

I tilt my head, pretending to ponder his words. "Well, I suppose you do have a knack for knowing what I like," I say playfully.

Before I could even take a single breath, he turns my body to face him, my thighs straddling his lap, his hands gripping my hips firmly. The beat continues to thump in the background, a soundtrack to the rising tension between us.

With each of my hands gently cradling the sides of his neck, my thumbs softly drifting over the crimson tattoo designs etched there. Engulfed by an enigmatic allure, their stark vibrancy popped against the backdrop of his skin.

Zayn's eyes darken with desire as he leans in closer, his warm breath caressing my cheek. “You know, I can't help but wonder what other things I know about you,” he murmurs huskily, his fingers lightly pushing up my shirt, grazing the skin on my lower back.

A playful smirk dances on my lips as I lean in, brushing my nose against his. “Oh really? And what other secrets have you uncovered, Mr. Malik?” I tease.

Zayn chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine. “Well, let's just say I've discovered a few interesting pieces of information...”

I nibble on my bottom lip, arching an eyebrow. “Is that so? And what have you found out?”

His grip on my hips tightens ever so slightly, his eyes burning into mine. “Oh, petal,“ he whispers huskily, sending shivers down my spine. “Is your pussy so greedy that my cock isn’t enough for her?”

I take a sharp intake of breath, caught off guard by his words. Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I refuse to let him see me flustered. Instead, I lean back slightly, maintaining eye contact as I respond with a coy smile as I run my fingertips lightly along his jawline, feeling the slight stubble beneath my touch. “I don’t know what you’re talking abo—”

The words barely leave my lips before Zayn’s hand was gripping my neck pulling me to him, his fingers applying just enough pressure to send a jolt of electricity through my body.

His voice is low and seductive as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against mine. “Don't play games with me, petal,” he whispers, “You know exactly what I'm talking about.”

I bite my lip, unsure whether to resist or surrender to the intoxicating power he holds over me. “Z...”

“My cock s’not enough, huh?” Zayn's lip curls upward, a bitter twist to his mouth. He leans back, his grip never loosening. “You let Healy taste what’s mine, didn’t you?” he asked in a low growl, each word slicing through the air like a blade honed with possessiveness.

“W-w-what... I... I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stuttered. “Matty and I are just friends,” I insist, my voice wavering slightly. Zayn's eyes narrow as he releases his grip on my neck, his gaze piercing into mine.

“Are we just friends, sweetheart?”

Matty's voice startles me, causing me to jump slightly. I glance over Zayn’s head to see him standing in the doorway. An unexpected urge to hide the fact that I was on Zayn's lap flares up inside me, and I quickly attempt to get off him. However, he keeps his grip on my hips tightly, not letting me go.

My face turns redder by the second as I try to come up with something to say, but Matty's smirk only grows wider. "What are you doing here?" I manage to squeak out.

“Zayn invited me, babe.” Matty laughs, shaking his head at me. His gaze flickers between Zayn and me before settling on me curiously. “You share us...So why can’t we do the same?”

“Such a fuckin’ slut,” Zayn muses, his fingertips ghosting over the expanse of my thighs, “isn’t she, Matty?”

Matty smirks, his face void of any emotion besides lust and approval. “Yeah? I’m not so sure, Malik.” His breaths are heavy as he moved around the side of the bed, stroking his finger against and up, my body. His movements are slow and intentional. I need more.

I try to move closer towards Matty’s fingers, but Zayn’s grip on my legs is relentless. He urges me to part them. “Why don’t you show him, petal.”

The two of them watch me intently as I part my legs, the breeze on my swollen clit causing me to bite back a moan. “Please,” I choke out, fisting my hands on the sheets in desperation.

“Please?” Matty mocks, his smirk growing as he stalks closer, his fingertip dancing alongside Zayn’s and up the curve of my body. “Please, what?” His fingers grip onto my jaw, pulling me eyes so they land on him.

“Please, sir.”

Matty laughs, “So fuckin’ pathetic.” He leans close, his nose brushing against mine as he looks into my eyes. His expression is soft—like melted chocolate. “You can beg better than that, sweetheart.”

I can’t help but whine, but that only entices Matty and Zayn further. Zayn chuckles, a dark and daring sound deep from his throat, as he snakes his hand between my thighs. “You want us to touch you, correct?” He earns another groan from me as his finger just barely misses my clit. “You have to be a good girl and do as we say. Understand?”

“Yes.” I answer meekly, and attempt to move my hips for any form of relief.

This doesn’t sit well with Matty. He used his hand to push down on my stomach, anchoring my hips down to the bed under me. “We didn’t fucking say you could move, did we?”

“Matty—please, I need you.”

He pouts his lower lip, and shakes his head. “You need me?” Turning to look over his shoulder, he gestures with a jerk of his neck, “Or you need him? Which one, sweetheart?”

My mind is reeling as the pressure on my stomach lightens, and Matty moves his hands up the center of my abdomen towards my chest. His fingertip brushes underneath my tit. “Words, sweetheart. Tell us which one you want.”

Which one do I want?

Zayn is fucking beautiful. His tanned skin is so golden, it feels like I’m staring at the sun itself. The sharp angles of his facial structure make him look like an angel. But when he smiles, he has this wicked little glint in his eye that makes my heart skip a beat.

Then there’s Matty. His face is gorgeous—his cheekbones are high and defined, accentuated by his pale skin, giving off a soft glow from within. His eyelashes are dark, and his lips, full and soft—so kissable. Just thinking about his lips makes my brain melt.

“Both. I want you both.” My voice cracks on the last word. It sounds needy even to my own ears. They laugh in unison, and then turn to each other.

“There’s my slutty little princess.” Zayn coos mockingly, his index finger dipping into my folds —up and down, up and down until I’m squirming beneath him, begging for more. His gaze flickers between my parted legs, and a smug smirk spreads across his face. With a seductive glint in his eyes, he holds up his soaked fingers to Matty, “Think she can take us both?”

A pitiful whine travels from my lips at the thought of both of them being inside me. How my pussy would be stretched wide open, how my body would scream in pleasure and pain as their cocks pounded into me. How my pussy would tremble, begging for relief.

With a nod from Matty, he takes one of Zayn’s fingers in his mouth, sucking and licking it, moaning at the taste before releasing the digit with a pop. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin that sweet little cunt.”

It’s all I can do to keep silent; not only am I too turned on to speak, the two men’s combined attention is enough to leave me breathless. But what I don’t expect is to watch their lips crash together, kissing feverishly and roughly, tongues meeting in sloppy, wet movements.

Sitting up on my elbows, I watch the scene before me, the room swirling in a hazy blur as my mind tries to catch up with the intensity of my two favorite men.

Matty's strong hand grips the back of Zayn's neck, while Zayn's arm slides around Matty's waist, pulling him closer, their bodies pressing against each other, molding to fit every curve and contour.

A low moan escapes from Zayn's lips, muffled by the fervent kiss, and I can’t help but let out a pathetic whine at the sight. The sound has them breaking away, eyes gliding to me. “What’s that? We couldn’t hear you.”

Zayn cocks his head slightly, waiting for an answer I refuse to give him. After a moment of silence, he’s reaching for Matty once more, his hand wrapping around his slender throat as their lips crash together. Matty melts into his touch, his hand lifting to hold onto Zayn’s jaw.

I can’t help but watch in awe, my own body reacting to theirs as soft moans fall from their lips. My thighs tighten together and my chest rises and falls rapidly.

Their lips move in tandem; both of them are somewhere between begging and pleading, between moaning and growling into each other's mouths with desperation. Matty was the first one to break away. He stands from the bed, stripping away the shirt from his torso and tossing it to the side of the room.

He motions for Zayn to do the same. He starts unzipping his trousers, keeping his eyes on me, and drops the trousers to the ground. My eyes are trained on Matty as he stands in front of me, clad in only a dark pair of boxers.

“Over here, darlin’.” Zayn speaks up, standing on the opposite side of me. My eyes flash towards him, nearly drooling at the sight. He also stood in only boxers, a devilish smirk playing on his lips.

“Can you please?” My voice trembles on the edge of desperation as I beseech them, my words hanging heavy in the charged atmosphere. They remain silent, their searing gazes never faltering from mine. Matty, his body radiating hunger, kneels on the mattress, his hand gripping my leg and pulling me towards him.

“Matty... please.” I whimper, my gaze locked with his, pleading for him to ignite the fire within me.

Fucking hell, I’ll take anything at this point.

Matty starts to answer, his lips parting slightly but Zayn intervenes swiftly, “Can we what?” His tone commanding, brushing Matty’s hand away from my ankle with an assertiveness that sends a shiver down my spine as I sit up on my elbows. Our brows furrow in unison at Zayn's interruption.

“Please, just touch me.” I whine as Zayn forcefully positions Matty on the ground before him on his knees.

“Please?” My plea is desperate now as I strive to provoke a response from them. “Please, Zayn. Please,” I become insistent, the threat of tears brimming in my eyes heightening the intensity of the situation. My hands ball into fists and twist into the sheets beside me as Zayn's fingers knot in Matty's curls—a move that prompts a closed-eyed hum of pleasure from Matty. “I’ll do anything.”

“No.” Zayn's words cut through the thick silence as he tugged back Matty’s head with an authoritative yank. “You’re gonna stay quiet and watch. Understand?”

This new position offers an enticing view of Matty's neck—its delicious landscape peppered with dark stubble just begging for my teeth to stake their claim on it. I run my tongue over my plumped bottom lip, picturing how godly it would feel to nip at his succulent, pale skin above his throbbing pulse.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Matty murmurs with a hint of promise, his words melting into a low moan when Zayn tightens his grip around his hair, “You’ll get your turn.”

Zayn's eyes dancing between Matty and I. “Who said she’d get a turn, hmm?” He teases, raising a brow at me before turning to Matty, “Who said you get to stop?”

Matty’s eyes glint at Zayn’s tone, “Drop the tone, yeah?” His hands playing with the elastic band of Zayn’s boxers, his index finger hooking under it. “I’ll give you what you want.” A quick yank of the material and Zayn’s boxers fall to his ankles, revealing his hard cock. The ruby red tip bubbled with precum at the slit, slowly dripping down before Matty catches it with the tip of his tongue.

Matty’s eyes never leave mine for a second as his mouth slowly descends to Zayn’s cock, his hand wrapping around the base for support. The way he takes him in slow and deep, my breath hitches imperceptibly. I can see the muscles tense in Zayn's neck and thighs as his eyes flutter shut. Matty repeats this teasing torture until Zayn can no longer hold back.

“Fuck—look at you, Healy. Who knew you were such a fuckin’ cock slut?” Zayn chuckles, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. But Matty doesn't falter, continuing to work his magic, his lips glistening with saliva and pre-cum.

As I watch the two of them, I feel a surge of desire coursing through my veins. I'm overwhelmed by the sight of Matty sucking Zayn's cock so expertly, their bodies pressed together, their breaths ragged and heavy. My hand travels down my stomach to my wet core, my index finger teasingly tracing circles on my clit.

The sounds of Matty’s wet mouth sliding up and down Zayn’s cock fill the room and I whimper, my arousal almost unbearable. I try to focus on their passionate display, willing them to notice my desperation clusters at the base of my throat, but they continue to ignore me, consumed by their own pleasure.

Matty's lips glide up Zayn's shaft, trailing along the underside, and then he engulfs him once again, sucking harder this time. My breath catches in my throat, and I thrust two fingers inside my weeping cunt, imagining it's both of their cocks inside me, pulsing, throbbing and stretching me out in a way I’ve never felt before.

Zayn yanks Matty by his curls, forcing his head to look in my direction. “Look at our fuckin’ little slut. So fuckin’ desperate, isn’t she? Fingering her slutty little cunt like it’s comparable to us, huh?”

“Please—please! S’need my boys.” The whimper that leaves my mouth makes me sound like a lost lamb, and my cheeks flush with embarrassment. But I don't care, the need is too intense. I pull my fingers away and lick them clean, wanting to taste the wetness they caused.

Matty hums out, “Maybe we should give her what she wants...” He places his lips around Zayn’s leaking tip, giving it a quick and hard suck before releasing him with a pop, and standing up from his knees. Matty’s hands grip the back of Zayn’s neck, their lips colliding with a force that

sends shockwaves through my entire body. I watch in fascination as their tongues entwined, their lips locked in a passionate embrace.

“Give our girl what she wants, hmm?” Matty growls, breaking away from the kiss just long enough to address Zayn.

Zayn, with a smirk, turns his attention back to me. “You want that, petal?” He steps closer, his hard cock bobbing in front of me, and I can't help but lick my lips in anticipation.

“Yes...Yes, please. Need it.”

Both of the men laugh as Zayn positions himself next to me and Matty stands at the foot of the bed. Matty doesn't break his gaze from us as he slowly pulls down his boxers, revealing his toned and sculpted thighs. My eyes trace every contour and muscle, captivated by the sight. Zayn watches him lustfully as he does so, their connection palpable.

Matty smirks at me and climbs onto the bed at my feet, spreading my legs wide as he kneels between them. “Look how wet you are, Sweetheart.” He groans out before his tongue tracing the outline of my pussy lips before dipping inside, tasting the sweetness that's dripping from my hole.

Matty uses both of his thumbs to pull me apart as he mutters, “So pretty—so fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart.” He harshly spits directly on my engorged clit. My hips jerk upward as a shudder runs through me. He groans against my folds, his tongue dancing faster and delving deeper as he works me open, filling me with longing and need.

“You like the way his tongue feels, petal?” Zayn whispers in the shell of my ear. I almost forgot he was even in the room but I’m quickly reminded as his forefinger and thumb tweak at my left pebbled nipple.

“Shit!” I cry out as Matty’s thick fingers find their way inside my hole, stretching me wider until both are buried inside me with a single thrust.

Zayn grins wickedly, his cock twitching with anticipation. "You want it, don't you, petal?" he growls, leaning down to nibble on my earlobe. I nod vigorously, my eyes locked on Matty's skilled fingers working my pussy.

Meanwhile, Matty is still going to town on my clit, his skilled tongue flicking and dancing, while his fingers thrust in and out of my core. My entire body is trembling with pleasure, and I can feel the orgasm building up inside me like a tidal wave.

“Enough.” Zayn calls out, “She doesn’t get to cum unless she’s wrapped around both of us.”

Matty pulls his face from my cunt, his pink lips now a deep shade of red and soaked with my wetness along with his chin slick. He looks up at Zayn with an almost hungry expression, his brown eyes glistening under the dim light. “How you wanna do this, Z?” Matty questions.

Zayn effortlessly pulls me on top of him, our chests pressed together as our eyes lock. “Straddle me, petal.” he commands softly.

Matty's touch is gentle yet firm as his hands wrap around my hips, guiding me onto my knees. My hands tremble slightly as they press on either side of Zayn's head, supporting me in this position. Matty’s hand caresses the skin at my hip as Zayn’s hand reaches in between us, gripping his cock, teasingly tapping my pussy.

“You sure?” Zayn whispers, his voice velvety smooth. Matty chimes in, “You’re in control, Sweetheart.”

Looking over my shoulder at Matty, I nod. “Yes, I’m sure.”

I want this. I want both of them.

“Same time, yeah?” Zayn mutters out as I lower my head into his neck, dropping to my forearms. The stretch is like nothing I’ve ever felt before, it’s almost painful as both of their thick tips push past the muscles of my opening in unison.

I scream out in sheer agony and ecstasy, tears streaming down my cheeks as they solidify their claim on me. "Oh fuck," I moan out. This is beyond anything I've ever felt before; it’s intense and primal. My body trembles beneath them both as they take over control, their movements perfectly in sync with each other.

“Fuck! Take it all.” Matty groans out as they both bottom out. Zayn grunts out at the feeling of Matty’s cock sliding against his and my walls clench around both of them. “Our girl feels fuckin’ phenomenal.”

As the room fills with their lust-filled moans and pants, I feel my mind going hazy from the intensity of it all. “S’full. Feel so f-full, God!” I don’t even recognize my own voice as I cry out, the sensations overwhelming me completely.

“You good, petal?” Zayn asks gently, his tone a perfect blend of concern and desire. I nod, still trying to catch my breath. “Yeah... Ju— just give me sec.” Pulling myself from Zayn’s neck.

“Take all the time you need, sweetheart,” Matty assures me gently, his hand tracing soothing patterns on my lower back. I let out a shaky breath, still reeling from the intensity of being stretched this wide.

My eyes flutter closed, and I let out a soft moan as I focus on the feeling of their bodies surrounding mine. Every touch, and every movement seems ignite a fire within me, leaving me yearning for more.

“C-can I try something else?”

Zayn raises an eyebrow, a devilish grin forming on his face. “Go ahead, petal. Whatever you want, we're here for you.”

I take a deep breath and gather my courage. Pushing myself from Zayn’s chest, both of them moan out at the feeling as I stand on my knees. My chest heaved at the feeling of the different position. Matty’s chest meets my back as I lean back into him, the warmth of his body something I can't get enough of.

Zayn’s hands cupped my breast, and the other gripping my hip. Matty follows suit, his muscular arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “Feel good?” Matty bites at my earlobe, his warm breath sending shivers down to my core.

“M’not gonna last long if you keep clenching, petal.” Zayn cries out gripping my tit and hip in a bruising manner.

"Please fuck me," I beg, my voice breathy with want as I arch my back to press my ass towards Matty's lap. "Fill me up.” I groan out in desperation.

Matty and Zayn nod in sync, their eyes locked on each other, as they watch me flex my hips to get them to move. Both of them pull out just to thrust back into my pussy at force, their cocks stretching me once again with ease.

"You're so tight," Zayn grunts out between his thrusts. "So damn tight." Matty growls in agreement, "Fuck yeah," before he kisses his way down my jawline to my collarbone and continues to pump into me relentlessly. Their pace quickens until they are slamming into me without mercy, hitting that perfect spot again and again.

My pussy is on fire; it feels like it's gonna split in two by these two men who own me completely. The smell of our arousal fills the air and makes me even more turned on than before; it's intoxicating. Their skin slaps against mine in perfect harmony with each thrust.

I moaned loudly as Matty’s teeth gently nipped my earlobe, his rough hands tugging on my hair. His cock was still sliding in and out of me, harder and faster now. Matty's hips began to pick up the pace too, his hot breath fanning over my neck.

The feeling of both of them inside me was incredible, my body trembling with pleasure. I could feel their sweat mixing with mine, both of them panting heavily. Both of them were entering me at the same speed, and after only a few minutes my vision was going blurry.

“God sweetheart, y’so fucking tight,” I heard Matty huff out from behind me. I can see Zayn smirk in front of me, his hands reaching down to play with my puffy little clit. “Holy fuck,” Matty growled out, “You're so wet,” he added between thrusts, licking his lips subconsciously.

“Z-zayn...” I whined out. After one last lift of my hips, I was out of energy to continue riding Zayn. He thrust up into me only moments later, and it felt even better now that they were doing the work.

"Oh fuck," Zayn huffs as driving his cock deeper with every thrust. The head of their cocks hits my g-spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. Zayn’s hands grip my hips tighter, pulling me down onto him as he pumps faster. He growls out, "Feels so fucking good."

“Can feel y’squeezin’ us petal, y’gonna cum already?” All I could do was nod, my head too hazy to respond. “Go on petal, y’deserve it.”

“C’mon, sweet girl. Cum around our cocks,” Matty asks against my ear, nipping lightly. “Soak us, sweetheart. You can do it— you can take it.” I moan in reply, unable to form words as they take me over the edge together. They are in sync like a well-oiled machine, pushing me closer and closer to the brink of orgasm with each thrust and moan filling the air around us.

I fall to Zayn’s chest as my whole body shakes, my pussy squeezing their cocks so hard it pushes them out of me. My pussy clenches reflexively around the empty space left by their withdrawal. The sound of liquid splashing onto our bodies filled the room.

Matty grips both his and Zayn's throbbing cocks in one hand, roughly rubbing my sensitive clit with the slick heads. A loud moan escapes my lips as the wet slaps of their skin against mine become faster and more forceful, echoing throughout the room.

“That's it, baby,” Matty growls, his teeth grazing my earlobe. “Let go. Drench us with your cum."

They both plunge back inside me simultaneously, their cocks filling me up once again. The feeling of being stretched wide open is overwhelming, almost too much for me to handle, but I know that I am safe with them, my two protectors. They slide in and out of me, the rhythm getting harder, faster, more unforgiving.

My eyelids flutter, feeling as though I have drifted into a realm beyond reality. Even in my hazy state, I can sense Matty and Zayn's breath against the crook of my neck.

“S’good.”

“Gonna fill you to the brim, S’promise.”

“Our girl.”

I don’t know who’s saying what at this point. All I know is that as the waves of pleasure crash over me, I can feel Matty's and Zayn's cocks pulsating inside me, matching the rhythm of my own heartbeat. Their thrusts grow more and more erratic, their bodies becoming one with mine in this ecstatic embrace.

“I’m cummin’,” Matty growled deep in his throat, the sound rumbling through his chest and sending shivers down my spine. And not even a second later I could feel Matty’s hot ropes of cum filling my tight hole. But Zayn showed no signs of slowing down, thrusting deeper and harder until he too reached his climax, coating my sensitive walls in a thick layer of white.

I can feel my body being moved, hear voices and gasps, and see flashes of light, but I am lost in the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the brim with their cum.

But I never want this to end—the feeling of being loved and cared for by my boys.

As I lay there, half-conscious, surrounded by Matty and Zayn, I felt their hearts beating on either side of me. The warmth of their cum spills out of me and the smell of our sweaty, mingled bodies fills the air. Their hands gently stroke my skin, calming me.

“Are you okay, petal?” Zayn whispers, his voice rough and tender.

In response, I only need to let out a contented sigh, my eyes fluttering open to look into the smoky depths of Zayn's gaze. The corners of his mouth curve into a warm smile, and I can sense the relief washing over him. Matty leans down, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, his breath warm and steady.

“Think I love the both of you.”

Matty chuckles softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles along my thigh. “Fucked ya that good, hmm?” he murmurs, pride evident in his tone. "We're here to give you everything you deserve."

Zayn's lips brush against my forehead as he whispers, "You're our girl. Always, petal.”

[didyoulookforme]

walkabout

your teacher asks you to tutor none other than matty healy. the very beginning of the bf matty au.

warning: cheesy fluff. teenagers being dramatic. grammatical errors, typos.

au masterlist here

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you cannot believe your luck.

of all the people mr. davis could assign you to tutor, it has to be matty healy. matty, who sits at the back of the classroom, half-asleep, drumming on the desk like he’s got an entire band in his head. the boy who’s always late, looking as if he just rolled out of bed. the one everyone can’t stop whispering about—quiet, untouchable, with that mess of hair and a permanent slouch that somehow makes him even more infuriatingly attractive to every single girl in school.

“so, you’ll do it, yeah?” mr. davis asks, holding you both back after class, his tone practically daring you to argue. his eyes flick between the two of you, clearly expecting some kind of protest.

no. absolutely not. you want to say, mr. davis, i will do literally anything else. mop the floors. clean the whiteboards. just, please, don’t make me do this.

but instead, you say, “of course,” because that’s what good students do, isn’t it?

mr. davis turns to matty, who, by the way, hasn’t even looked at you once. not even a glance. “and you? will you actually show up?”

“yeah. sure.” matty shrugs, voice low, casual, not impolite exactly but not making any promises either.

when you leave the classroom, your brain is spinning. how is this your life now? you spend the rest of the day picturing every way this could go wrong. matty showing up late—or not at all. matty being too quiet, distant, barely meeting your eyes. matty fidgeting in his seat, counting the minutes until he can leave, not paying attention whatsoever.

and after school, you unload all your frustration onto your friend, desperate for a shred of sympathy. but really, you should’ve known better.

“shut the fuck up.”

her voice slices through the air, sharp and disbelieving. she’s already sitting up, magazine abandoned, eyes wide like you’d just confessed you were moving to mars. “are you serious?”

“unfortunately,” you groan, covering yourself with your favourite pillow, your words coming out muffled. “apparently, someone thinks i’m a miracle worker who can make him care about school.”

“holy shit.” she leans forward, her grin stretching wider by the second. you can feel it without even looking. “you’re kidding. matty fucking healy?”

“yes.” you drag the pillow over your face wishing it could block out her inevitable reaction. “he doesn’t even try in class. now i’m supposed to magically make him care about algebra?”

“oh, who gives a flying fuck about algebra!” she waves a hand dismissively. “you’re gonna be sitting across from him. alone. for an hour. every week. that’s… basically the fucking dream.”

“oh my god,” you collapse further into the bed hoping the worn sheets beneath can provide some sort of comfort. “you’re delusional.”

“no, you’re delusional if you think this isn’t fate.” she’s practically vibrating with excitement now. “you have to find out everything about him.”

“he’s not some alien experiment,” you deadpan, lifting your head just enough to glare at her. “he’s just a guy who probably can’t add fractions.” still, the thought lingers. maybe you do want to know more—just a little. not because you care, obviously, but because it’s… curious. infuriatingly so.

“and yet, he’s also the hottest guy in school. don’t even try to deny it.”

you hesitate. she’s not wrong, exactly, but you can’t admit that—not out loud.

“there’s no—”

“don’t.” she cuts you off like a stern teacher catching a student mid-lie. “i know you. i remember. you had the biggest crush on him.”

you can’t help that your face burns instantly. “that was years ago.”

“doesn’t matter,” she sings songs, her grin practically glowing. “you were obsessed. you used to be like, ‘oh my god, matty’s curls looks so soft’ and ‘did you see how he dressed today?’ you were embarrassing.”

“i was twelve.” your voice cracks, too defensive, maybe too high-pitched. “it doesn’t count.”

“oh, it absolutely counts.” she leans closer, “plus, you’re really flustered right now.”

“i’m not!”

“you so are.” the smile plastered on her face is absolutely wicked now. “you still like him, don’t you?”

your stomach warps into knots. “jesus christ, no!” you practically shout, burying your face in your hands.

“sure,” she drags the word out. “but just so you know, louise totally made out with him at that party last month.”

your head snaps up so fast you’re pretty sure you strain something. “what?”

“uh-huh.” she looks far too pleased with herself. “she said he’s, like, weirdly good at it.”

“matty healy?” those two words don’t even make sense in your mouth and brain anymore.

“apparently, he’s super eager and… sweet. can you imagine? matty fucking healy being cute?”

you snort, because no. you can’t.

“right? same. but louise swears it’s true. she said he kept pulling her closer and saying, ‘is this okay?’ and ‘you’re really pretty.’”

your gut twists again, this awful, fluttery thing you refuse to acknowledge.

“you’re so full of shit.”

“she’s full of shit,” she corrects, laughing. “but honestly? if it’s true, it makes him even more confusing. how can someone be broody and sweet? pick a fucking lane.”

and there it is again—that thought you don’t want to have. matty healy. sweet. yup.

he barely talks to anyone, always hunched over a notebook or sketching weird little patterns on the edges of his papers. he’s quiet in this intense, self-contained way, like he doesn’t want anyone seeing too much. he doesn’t seem like the type to ask ‘is this alright?’ or let alone call someone pretty.

but what if he is? what if there’s something softer under all the sharp edges, something he keeps hidden on purpose? what if—

no. fucking. way. it’s ridiculous. you shove the thought down, locking it in the imaginary safe inside your brain. plus, he’s probably never even thought about you twice.

“he’s not like that,” you say finally, more to yourself than to her.

“oh, yeah?” she raises an eyebrow, daring you to argue. “guess you’ll find out, won’t you?”

“jesus christ, stop it.” you grab the nearest cushion and launch it at her, but she just laughs, catching it before it hits her face.

“hey, i’m just saying,” her grin is downright evil now. “if he’s a good kisser, you’re practically obligated to confirm it.”

“get out,” you groan, flopping back down.

but even as you bury your face back in the pillow, you can’t stop thinking about it.

what if she wasn’t wrong?

—

by the time the first session rolls around, your nerves are a complete wreck. your hands are clammy, you feel a bit lightheaded, and you’re already regretting every decision that’s led you here. the library is practically dead—just the low buzz of those ancient fluorescent lights and the occasional shuffle of someone flipping a page somewhere in the distance. it smells strange, this weird mix of dusty books and that lemony floor cleaner that somehow always feels sticky no matter how fresh it is.

your swear your bag is a million pounds, stuffed to the brim with textbooks and notes you’re not even sure will matter. every step toward the back of the room seems slower than the last, as if your feet are trying to talk you out of this whole thing. but you press on, your heart hammering, every instinct screaming to spin around and hide in the safety of the nearest aisle.

he’s already there when you stumble around the corner, looking exactly how you expected. his hair’s a reckless mess, all careless pieces falling into his face because gravity’s obviously playing favourites. his shoulders droop so far it’s a small miracle he hasn’t slid off the chair entirely. his tie’s hanging on by sheer willpower, slack and crooked, and his shirt—don’t even get started on the shirt—looks like it’s been wadded up at the bottom of a gym bag for weeks. yet by some ungodly miracle, he still looks stupidly good. you’re sure the universe must’ve bent the rules just for him.

you stop dead in your tracks, your stomach doing this annoying thing once again, but this time more from dread than nerves. he’s not quite intimidating but there’s something about the sheer disinterest radiating off him that makes you hesitate. you’re clutching your bag so hard your knuckles are white, and for one brief, tempting second, bolting feels like a legitimate option. but then he glances up, his eyes widening just enough to make it clear he didn’t think you’d actually show. the expression isn’t inviting, but it’s enough to stop you from finding the exit. barely.

“oh. hi.” his voice is soft, so quiet it takes you a second to register that he’s spoken.

you swallow hard, willing your nerves to calm, and walk over, lowering yourself into the seat across from him. “hi.” your voice comes out steadier than you feel, the single word hovering awkwardly in the air.

you pull your bag onto the table and set it down with exaggerated care, as if even the slightest sound might disrupt the fragile calm between you. he doesn’t say anything else, just shrugs, his movements loose and lazy, still half-melting into the chair. 

“are you ready?” you manage, keeping your tone neutral, polite, professional even.

another shrug. “yeah. sure.”

his voice is low and rough. perhaps it hasn’t gotten much use today. it’s still not exactly rude, but it’s not encouraging either. you nod, your hands fumbling slightly as you flip open your notebook. you start simple, writing out a basic equation: 3x + 4 = 10.

“try this one,” you say, sliding the notebook toward him.

he picks up his pen, taps it rhythmically against the table for a few beats, then scribbles something down. x = 2.

“good,” you say before you can stop yourself, a flicker of surprise coloring your voice. you didn’t expect him to nail it on the first try, and the unexpected ease of it catches you off guard. “okay, what about this one?” you write out another problem: 2(x - 3) = 8.

he stares at the equation for a long moment, his brow furrowing slightly as he traces the numbers with his eyes. his lips press together in concentration and for a brief second, you think he might actually be invested in figuring it out. then he bites his bottom lip, and it’s glossy and pink when he lets go, and you have to snap your attention back to your notebook, pretending you didn’t notice.

“uh… x is… 11?”

it’s wrong, obviously, and you should’ve seen it coming, but something about the way he says it—hesitant, unsure—makes you bite back a laugh. instead, you shake your head, the corners of your mouth tugging into an involuntary smile. “not quite. here, let me show you.”

you walk him through the steps, breaking it down as simply as you can, and to his credit, he listens. his eyes follow your pen as you write, nodding slowly while he tries to piece it all together. his hair falls into his face as he leans in, the faintest shadow of understanding flickering across his expression.

“oh. so x is 7.”

“exactly.”

he leans back with a soft sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. his fingers catch in the tangles, but it doesn’t seem to bother him—it’s more automatic than deliberate. “right. makes sense, i guess.”

you glance at his notebook, curiosity tugging at the edges of your focus. it’s open, but not to anything remotely useful. instead of math problems, the pages are crammed with chaotic scribbles—tiny guitars, abstract shapes, half-finished stick figures tangled with half-finished sentences. words scratched out and rewritten so many times they’re barely legible, spiraling across the margins in waves of ink that don’t seem to lead anywhere.

you try not to stare, but it’s impossible to ignore the sheer disarray of it. it feels oddly intimate, a window into his head he hasn’t really hidden but hasn’t offered up, either.

“this one’s hard,” he mutters, pulling you back. his voice is quiet again, but there’s a faint sense of frustration as he frowns at the problem you’ve written: 5x - 2 = 3x + 6.

“it’s not too bad,” you say, leaning forward slightly, your tone gentle. “just move all the x terms to one side and the numbers to the other.”

he scratches something down, his pen pausing mid-air as he hesitates, then scribbles a little more. finally, he looks up, the faintest smirk curling at the edges of his lips. “x is… 4?”

you nod, feeling a flicker of warmth at the small victory. “exactly. see? you’re getting it.”

his lips tug into a smile—small, tentative, almost reluctant—and it’s not much, but it’s something. you look away, turning the page in your notebook, refusing to acknowledge the way your chest flutters for half a second.

the hour drags and flies at the same time. he tries, which surprises you more than anything else given that he has the attention span of a newborn goldfish. his foot taps a steady rhythm against the floor, and his fingers keep tugging at the frayed edge of his sleeve, but when you gently redirect him, he comes back.

the more time you spend with him, the more details start to sink in. the way his voice softens when he’s unsure of something. the way his nails are bitten down to jagged nubs. the way his lips part slightly when he’s thinking, his gaze flicking back and forth between the notebook and the table as if the answer might reveal itself if he stares long enough.

when the hour’s finally up, you take your time packing up, every movement drawn out and careful, watching out of the corner of your eye as he shoves papers into his bag. half of them are crumpled, a few look like they’ve barely survived, and none of them seem to end up where they’re supposed to.

“thanks for this,” he mutters, barely loud enough to register, his focus stuck on cramming his notebook into the disaster zone. “i mean… yeah. thanks.” 

“no worries.” you aim for light, casual, as if your pulse isn’t doing that weird, too-fast thud in your chest. “that’s why i’m here. see you next week?”

he nods, barely, and there’s this tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth—a smile that doesn’t quite make it but lingers just enough to be noticeable. “yeah. see you.”

he walks off, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his bag hanging awkwardly from one shoulder, papers still sticking out at random angles. you’re just about to leave when your eyes catch something on the table. a crumpled piece of paper, left behind in his whirlwind of packing.

you pause, glancing around like you’re about to commit some kind of crime, but the library’s empty. no one’s watching. your fingers hover for half a second before curiosity gets the better of you, and you pick it up, smoothing the wrinkles carefully.

the handwriting is a mess—words scratched out and rewritten, lines twisted into tangles of uncertainty: and this is how it starts

take your shoes off in the back of my car van

you share my shirt, looks so good

when it’s just hangin’ off your back (???)

you stare at it, the edges still crumpled, the ink smudged in places where his hand must have dragged across the page. it feels too personal, but you can’t stop looking. your fingers hover for a second before folding it up and slipping it into your bag, your thoughts buzzing with questions you’re not sure you should even want answers to.

[girlkisser13]

about you

"do you think i have forgotten?" "do you know think i have forgotten about you?"

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings/tags: angst with a hint of fluff at the end. set in tfatws. the reader refers to bucky as james.

summary: you reunite with the love of your life.

in the heart of brooklyn, under the soft glow of streetlights, you and your fiancée, james buchanan barnes, shared what would become your final night together. the air was thick with the unspoken fear of the unknown, the looming threat of war, and the desperation of a love that had yet to fully blossom. you clutched his hand tightly, your engagement ring glinting faintly in the darkness, a symbol of a future you both hoped to see.

"promise me you'll come back, james," you whispered, your voice trembling.

he smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "i promise. i'll always come back to you."

your goodbye was marked by a kiss, full of longing and fear, sealing a promise that fate would soon break.

your story took a darker turn shortly after his departure. selected for the super-soldier serum experiments, you underwent the same harrowing transformation as steve rogers, albeit with an added layer of peril.

the government was eager to see how the serum affected women, and you became their prime subject. the serum coursed through your veins, granting you strength and agility but also a burden you hadn't anticipated.

when steve plunged into the icy depths, you were there, fighting by his side until the end. you were frozen alongside him, your life suspended in the cold embrace of time. decades passed before you were discovered, thawed out much later than steve, only to find that the world you knew was gone and the man you loved was presumed dead.

years blurred together as you tried to find your place in a world that had moved on without you. you worked alongside steve, fighting new battles while mourning the loss of your past life. the pain of losing the love of your life never dulled, a constant ache in your heart.

when steve found out he was alive, it was like a jolt to your system. the news was almost too much to bear, a mixture of hope and dread.

"james?" you whispered, your heart pounding.

steve looked at you, his eyes filled with sympathy. "he's alive, but he's not the same."

your world tilted as you absorbed the news. you had to see him, to know for sure.

when you finally found him, the man you loved was a shadow of his former self. broken, haunted, and unrecognizable.

"don't tell her, steve," he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. "i don’t want her to see me like this."

"it's too late," you said, stepping out from behind steve. your voice was steady, but your heart was breaking.

his eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the man you had loved. "james," you whispered, your voice trembling.

his breath hitched at the sound of his name, but then his face hardened. "you shouldn't be here," he said, turning away.

you reached out to touch him, but he flinched, stepping back. "james, please..."

"i'm not the man you remember," he said, his voice filled with pain. "i don’t want you here."

with those words, he walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart shattered into pieces. years had passed since that painful encounter, but the memory still haunted you. you had thrown yourself into your work, trying to forget, but he was always there, a ghost in your thoughts.

when sam called you for backup, you didn't hesitate. you were a soldier, and you knew how to bury your emotions when the mission demanded it. but as you made your way up to zemo's apartment, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in your stomach.

stepping into the room, your eyes immediately locked onto his. his breath hitched at the sight of you, but you didn't acknowledge him, focusing instead on sam and zemo. the four of you discussed the game plan, the tension in the room palpable.

as you all geared up, he pulled sam aside. "why didn't you tell me she was coming?"

sam shrugged, giving him a knowing look. "i figured it was time you two talked. she's all you ever talk about anyway."

he glanced at you, your eyes meeting briefly before you quickly looked away. his heart ached at the distance between the two of you, a distance that seemed insurmountable.

this unspoken chasm seemed to vanish, though, when the fight with the flag smashers erupted. the fight was intense, the chaos of battle a familiar comfort. you moved with the grace and precision of a trained warrior, your super-soldier abilities making you a formidable opponent. but you could feel his eyes on you, always watching, always worrying.

at one point, someone came at you with a gun from behind. seeing the danger, he rushed over and knocked the attacker unconscious.

"james, i can take care of myself!" you snapped at him, your irritation clear.

"i know, but i just worry about you," he replied, his voice soft, almost pleading.

you scoffed, your eyes narrowing. "you didn't seem to care about me when we last saw each other. why do you suddenly care now?"

he opened his mouth to respond, but you had already turned away, your heart aching with the weight of your unresolved past.

after the battle, he found you leaning against a wall, catching your breath. he approached slowly, his steps hesitant. "y/n, can we talk? please?"

you looked at him, your eyes guarded. "you have five minutes."

he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "i'm so sorry for how i treated you. i was lost, and i didn't want you to see me like that."

"when steve told me you were alive, i was terrified you wouldn't remember me. that you wouldn’t remember us," you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

he reached out, taking your hands gently in his. "do you really think i could ever forget you? the thought of seeing you again was the only thing that kept me going when i was being brainwashed. i kept imagining our wedding, our life together."

tears welled up in your eyes as you listened. "i did the same thing."

"i always hoped i would find my way back to you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"then why did you leave me?" you asked, your voice breaking. "if you loved me as much as i loved you?"

he looked down, shame flooding his eyes. "i wanted to find the man you fell in love with. that's why i went to wakanda. i needed to be better for you."

you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "you could have asked me to come with you. or at least said goodbye. do i really mean that little to you?"

"no!" he said vehemently, his grip on your hands tightening. "you mean everything to me. i was just... i was afraid. i didn't want you to see me like that, to see how broken i was."

he dropped to his knees, still holding your hands. "i’m on my hands and knees y/n. just like i was when i asked you to marry me. please, give me another chance."

a tearful laugh escaped you, and you pulled him up, looking into his eyes. "i forgive you, james."

he cupped your face, leaning in to kiss you passionately. when you broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours. "god, i've missed you."

you laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. "i've missed the sound of your laugh."

his eyes closed in a dazed smile as you touched his face. "i missed your eyes."

he opened his eyes at your words, the warmth of your touch making him smile.

he kissed you again, the world fading around the two of you. but just as you were lost in each other, a familiar voice interrupted your moment.

"hey lovebirds, we've got work to do," sam called out, smirking.

you broke apart, smiles on your faces. he took your hand, squeezing it gently. "we'll finish this later."

you nodded, "yes, we will."

as the two of you regrouped with sam and zemo, the weight of your past began to lift, replaced by the promise of a future you could finally begin to build together. he couldn't stop looking at you, his heart full for the first time in decades.

"are you okay?" sam asked, his voice low enough for only him to hear.

he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "yeah, i think I will be."

the battle wasn't over, but the both you had already won something more important. you had found your way back to each other again. and together, you could face anything.

last that night, after the dust had settled and your enemies were subdued, the two of you found a quiet corner away from prying eyes.

"i can't believe you're really here," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

you smiled, leaning into his touch. "i'm here, james. and i'm not going anywhere."

he pulled her into his arms, holding you close. "i love you. i’ve never stopped loving you."

"i love you too," you whispered, your voice full of emotion.

you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, knowing that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but at least you would face it together.

"james," you whispered, the name rolling off your tongue like a prayer.

you were the only one who still called him james, a name that reminded him of a simpler time, of the man he used to be. he closed his eyes, savoring the sound. "i love it when you call me that."

you smiled, resting your head against his chest. "you'll always be james to me."

he held you tighter, his heart swelling with love. "and you'll always be my everything."

in that moment, surrounded by the chaos of a world that had changed so much, the two of you found solace in each other, your love a beacon guiding the both of you through the darkness. and as you stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, you knew that no matter what came next, the two of you would face it together, just as you always had.

[sissylittlefeather]

If I Can Dream: Chapter 1

A/N: Man, I've been so back and forth on whether to publish this one or just keep it to myself forever. This series is very near and dear to my heart, so I'd love to hear your thoughts if you enjoy it.

An extra special thank you to my besties @ccab and @atleastpleasetelephone for all their encouragement. Thanks for putting up with me! I love you both! 🩷🩷🩷

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one.

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: this will eventually have smut, but is pretty fluffy/angsty for now. Elvis is sad and dealing with self esteem issues. There's also a small mention of drug use. Jo smokes cigarettes.

Word count: ~2.4k

Elvis looks at himself in the mirror again and tries not to cringe. At least he was able to zip the jumpsuit and get the belt on. The silver phoenix spreads across his torso, distracting from the rest of him. But he's not used to seeing this old man looking back at him. He touches his face gently, his rings glittering in the light, and sighs deeply. It wasn't so long ago that he was a sleek, handsome sex machine and now he's this. Old and tired and fat. Washed up. That's what the magazines say: washed up.

“EP, it's time!” Jerry hollers from the hallway. Elvis takes another deep breath and groans when the belt cuts into his stomach.

It's December of 1975 and Elvis is back in Vegas to finish the engagement he started in August that landed him in the hospital yet again for exhaustion. He's not sure he'll make it through this one either, but he's determined to try. If he doesn't have anything left to offer on stage, what the hell is the point?

He closes his eyes and turns from the mirror, walking to the door. Before he opens it, he rearranges his face into a smile. Nobody needs to know how he feels.

******

Jo looks in the mirror and moves a few pieces of her hair around on her forehead. When she came home with her pixie cut a few weeks ago, her best friend almost lost it. Evelyn couldn't believe Jo'd cut off all of her beautiful hair right before she was supposed to be in her wedding. But Jo was tired of messing with it. This was much easier and she liked the way it made her look young and fun. At 36, she was eager for anything that made her look younger.

She touches her cheek and looks at her eye makeup in the mirror. She has on the kind of thick black liner and mascara that makes her eyes look wide and doll-like and was popular when she was younger. Makeup is a little less dramatic now, but she likes this look better than the current style.

Her lavender shirt is almost see-through and her navy pants hug her ass just right. She's got a nice body, for her age, having been blessed with a fast metabolism and well-proportioned curves.

“Jo Bellamy, you're a catch.” She says it out loud to the mirror and nods affirmatively. Evelyn laughs from the bathroom and hollers amidst her giggles.

“Yeah, too bad you're too busy runnin’ to let a man catch you!” Jo looks at her friend and crinkles her nose.

“I'd stop for the right man.” Evelyn snorts.

“He'd have to be a hell of a man to stop you.”

“Yes, he would. I won't settle for anything less than the deepest love.” Jo smiles dreamily as her friend walks back into their hotel room. They've come to Vegas to celebrate Evelyn's last weekend as a single woman.

“Is that why you insisted on seeing Elvis? You think he's the right man?” Evelyn pokes Jo in the side and they both giggle.

“Ah yes, Elvis Presley. The man that no one else can live up to. He's the reason I've been single all these years, you know.”

“Oh, I'm aware. And it's ridiculous. We've seen him how many times, now?”

“Six. But I've never been on the front row. This is a big deal.” Evelyn looks at Jo nervously.

“You're gonna do something crazy, aren't you?” Jo pretends to be offended.

“Moi?! Noooooo, never.” But her reassurance is not received. Evelyn has known Jo since second grade. The only thing you could count on with her was that she'd do something crazy.

“Just don't get us kicked out again.” Jo laughs, thinking of how she'd been carried out of a venue in ‘72 for trying to get to his car after a concert.

“Hey, the show was over!” Evelyn rolls her eyes. She's been there for Jo's whole Elvis-obsessed life, from seeing him in 1955 on the back of a truck in a parking lot in Memphis, to being at the train station when he left for the army, to seeing every single movie, to flying to Vegas when he opened there in 1969. She used to be just as big of a fan, but that faded when she met Phil five years ago. Now, she just thinks it's time for Jo to grow up and move on like she did. Jo winks. “But I make no promises. I'm getting desperate.”

She has no intention of moving on. Elvis is the only man who has ever been consistent in her life, even if he doesn't know who she is. And now he's not married anymore, so she feels better about trying to catch him. Tonight might be her only chance to be this close to him. She's not going to waste it.

******

Elvis moves around the stage, doing his normal show routine. He's absolutely exhausted and the crowd's energy feels off. Honestly, he's not far from just walking off and calling it a night. He doesn't even kiss anyone during Love Me Tender, just tosses a couple of scarves into the audience.

“Something's wrong.” Jo mutters to Evelyn.

“What do you mean?”

“With him. Something's wrong.” Evelyn studies her friend. Jo is watching him like a hawk, her eyebrows pulled together.

“You know, I read a thing about him being on drugs-” Jo whips her head around.

“No. This is different. He's sad. He's not high.” Evelyn wonders how she can tell the difference, but doesn't push her on it.

By the end of the show, though, Jo is trying desperately not to cry. Her heart is broken for him and she can't even really say why. When he starts the last song, she stands up.

“Jo! Josephine! Sit down!” Evelyn pulls on her hand. Her heart is in her throat, but she can't let him leave the stage like this.

Elvis notices a girl in the front row standing as he starts his last song. He can't believe he made it to the end of the show and he's ready to leave this stage and never come back. But he can't take his eyes off the girl that's standing. He thinks about going to the edge of the stage to give her a scarf and a kiss, but before he can do that, she acts.

Jo pushes her chair to the edge of the stage, stands on it, and drags herself up onto the platform. Evelyn is yelling at her, but she blocks her out. Her heart is pounding and she knows she has about three seconds before Charlie grabs her, so she goes straight to Elvis.

Elvis is in shock as the girl runs to him and launches herself into his arms, wrapping herself around his neck. It's certainly not the first time a fan has come up on stage, but it's been a little while. He relaxes a bit when she kisses his cheek and whispers.

“It's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay. We still love you. I still love you.” He smiles a bit and whispers back.

“Thank you, dear.”

And then Charlie is there with his arms around her waist and she lets go of Elvis and allows herself to be carried away. He almost grabs her hand, but he stops himself. She's got to be crazy, coming up on the stage like that. But she didn't feel crazy; she felt desperate, and he understands that feeling. Even beyond that, her words were kinder than anything he's experienced in a while. There's a kind of ache to hear more of what she has to say.

The show ends and he calls Joe over to him.

“Find her.”

“Which one?”

“The one who came up on the stage, dumbass.” Elvis knows they're wasting precious time and she might be leaving.

“Oh. I'm sorry boss-”

“What did you do?”

“It wasn't me! They escorted her out of the venue.” Elvis feels rage bubble up inside him.

“THEY KICKED HER OUT?!” He bellows and kicks over a chair backstage.

“Security did! They figured you would want her gone!” Joe is obviously starting to panic. Elvis rounds on him and his eyes burn with anger.

“You find her. Go now. Find her.”

“But boss you could have-”

“I WANT HER.” Joe knows when it's time to stop arguing and get to work, so he nods quickly and takes off. “I want her…”

He whispers it quietly to himself, a little surprised that he said it. There hasn't been anyone he's wanted in a while. But something about her was different. He tells himself he's just curious to figure it out. That has to be it.

******

Jo grunts in frustration again and lights her cigarette while they wait for a cab to take them back to their hotel.

“Well, what did you think was gonna happen?!” Evelyn is less than amused by Jo's decision to run up on the stage and get them both kicked out.

“I dunno. This, I guess. But I still wanted to see the end of the show. Also it felt like he wanted to talk to me more.” Evelyn rolls her eyes so hard Jo is afraid it might be painful.

“You just want that to be true.”

“No! You weren't up there with him.”

“Jo, this is ridiculous. He's a celebrity. You don't know him.”

“I don't have to know someone to know when they're in need.” She stamps on her cigarette as a cab pulls over to them and they climb inside. Evelyn tells the cabbie where to take them and they ride in silence the rest of the way.

Joe gets to the sidewalk just as their cab pulls away. He doesn't know it was her in the car, though, so he runs around frantically looking. After almost an hour, he goes back to Elvis, ready to have his tail kicked for failing.

“You didn't find her?” Joe shakes his head sullenly and looks at the floor. Elvis has his jumpsuit off and his pajamas and robe on. He'd lost hope after about twenty minutes of Joe being gone. “Oh well.”

Joe leaves and Elvis turns all the lights off and closes the curtains, leaving the room almost pitch black until he turns the televisions on. He swallows a handful of pills and settles on the couch.

They'll head back to Memphis in a few days and he'll have some peace. Still, some part of him wishes she wasn't out of his life forever. Just another woman to add to his list of regrets. Too bad he doesn't even know this one’s name.

******

Evelyn and Jo leave Vegas the next day and go back home to their normal lives. Evelyn is preparing for the wedding and Jo is watching the papers for news that Elvis is back in Memphis. Despite all the urging from Evelyn to give up, she's not quite ready to quit. Not when it seems like he might need her. Evelyn just rolls her eyes and tells her she better not miss the wedding because she's chasing an impossible dream.

When she sees that Elvis gets home a few days later, Jo leaves work in the middle of the day to go to the Graceland gates. He's already inside when she gets there and joins the throng of women outside waiting for him. She's instantly annoyed by their presence and knows he must be too, so she turns and walks back to her car.

Elvis is in his bedroom with the lights off. He peeks out the window briefly and sees the crowd at the gates. It should encourage him, but it doesn't. He's convinced they're all just dreaming of a man that doesn't exist anymore. He closes the heavy drapes and crawls into bed, even though it's the middle of the day. Even reading sounds too daunting right now, so he just closes his eyes. He knows he won't sleep, but he can at least pretend to try. Maybe it'll help this feeling go away.

Jo comes back to Graceland at about 1:30 in the morning and is excited to see that all the other fans have gone home. She stands at the gates for a bit, but it's so cold that she starts to lose feeling in her fingers and toes. The house is mostly dark, but she knows he's in there and he's probably awake. With his performance schedule in Vegas, there's no way he's not a night owl. She walks back to her car to warm up and look around for some way she can try to get his attention. Then she sees it in her backseat: a ream of copy paper. There's a black marker in her purse that she keeps there just in case, so she digs it out. She writes on the paper in big letters:

I’M THE GIRL THAT HUGGED YOU ON STAGE ON SATURDAY.

She'll have to assume she's the only one that did that. She writes it on a few more papers and then scribbles her name and phone number on all of them.

“This is crazy.” Jo mutters to herself as she stands at the gates, bouncing from one foot to the other with an armload of paper airplanes. It takes her a few tries and she has to walk to a place where the wall is a little lower, but eventually she's able to sail all of them over to his side. She imagines that the guards are probably getting a good kick out of what she's doing, but she doesn't care. This is too important. But she's done all she can do tonight. The ball is now literally in his court. Hopefully, he'll see the notes and call her. Or he won't and she can finally put to rest this idea that she has stuck in her brain and go on that date with Alan from work. He's been after her for months now and she's running out of excuses to say no. Jo gets back in her car, rubbing her hands together for warmth, and says a silent prayer that Elvis will call.

******

Until Chapter 2!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

Let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!

[izzismissingsatv]

it's giving professor matty and I'm fucking barking

[sugar-coat-it]

The one where Matty reads smut to you

I don't know what to call this but it was fun to write! Shout out Matty reading part of 50 Shades of Grey in like 2015

Fem! Reader

Contains: dom! Matty, him making fun of her shitty romance novel, Matty reading smut to her, recreation of book scene, fingering in front of a mirror, blink and you miss it pussy spanking, praise (good girl)

WC: ~2.8k

—-------------------------------

Matty discovers his girlfriend’s secret reading habits and can’t resist recreating one of the scenes. 

—-------------------------------

You can feel Matty’s eyes on you without even having to look up from the pages in your hands. A smile twitches at your lips. It’s like a little game, pretending you can’t feel his gaze drinking you in, admiring the way the sunlight streams through the window. The way the light graces you, bathing your skin in glowing warmth. For a man who prides himself on his talent with words, he finds himself speechless. He doesn’t mind it one bit. 

You’d been immersed in your book for hours. Admittedly, it’s not high-brow reading in the slightest. But when life is so serious, sometimes a shitty, steamy romance novel is exactly the remedy you need. Sometimes, you like to disappear into the dynamics of someone else’s life where things are simple and clean-cut. Predictable.

Unhurried, Matty pushes his weight off of the doorframe, padding across the floor to you as you lay on the couch, your book comfortably resting in your lap. He leans down, his necklace dangling in front of your face as he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flicker away from the pages when you feel his lips press to your forehead with such tenderness that your heart swoons. You listen to his soft hum as you reach up to cup his face, your fingers naturally finding their place against his jaw. 

“Hi, baby. What have you got there?” he says softly, trailing a hand down your arm absentmindedly. 

“Just a silly romance book,” you answer, marking your page before handing him the book. 

He takes it from you, motioning for you to scoot over on the sofa to make room for him. Curled up at your side, Matty runs his finger down the spine of the book, observing the cover with a squinted, analytical stare. You already know he’s going to have plenty of opinions just from the art on the front alone. 

“You’re not gonna like it. I’m sorry, it’s not philosophical, foreign literature,” you joke, causing him to scoff. 

“Oh god. Don’t start with me, miss,” he murmurs, his eyes flickering over the title, “Well, I certainly don’t read about kissing and stuff but I’m not above trashy reading sometimes. I suppose I always thought these books were for grandmothers and like, desperate housewives.”

“They’re not just for grandmas and housewives!” 

“Alright, alright. Forgive me,” Matty chuckles, kissing your shoulder apologetically, “What’s this one about then?”

You give him a look. An untrusting one. Matty looks at you right back, cocking an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna laugh at me.” 

“No, I won’t. I swear. Tell me.”

Sighing, you watch as he cracks open the book, beginning to leaf through the pages, smirking to himself as he scans over words with eager eyes. He nudges you with his elbow expectantly, waiting for a synopsis of the story that feels increasingly dumber and more cliche the more you think about how to explain it. But, damn it, you’re allowed to read something silly and romantic in your free time if you want!

"She's a princess and he's the knight bound to protect her. He's kind of roguish, and she's never really experienced anything, she's bound to the castle most of the time but she’s still a badass. They fall in love even though they know they can't,” you mutter, watching his smirk grow wider, clearly amused. “Ah, I see. Classic, cheesy, forbidden romance shit,” he nods, glancing over at you with a glint in his eyes (one that means he’s about to say something stupid). “Is the knight hot? Does he have a big sword?”

“Yeah. Huge,” you snort, making Matty cackle in response, flipping through random pages, only making you feel more on edge. You should survive this as long as he doesn’t come across a few particular parts…

He scans over a passage, his brows furrowing slightly as he goes, seeming thoroughly unimpressed by the author. You listen as he mutters the words to himself under his breath, practically being able to see how he’s mentally tearing it to shreds as his eyes catch over the sappy dialogue and paragraphs of woeful yearning. 

“Christ. How many times is she going to use the word ‘longing’? This is… terrible.”

“Would you stop being a critic for once? It’s sweet,” you protest, finding the pining endearing. You’ve always been a slow-burn lover at heart. 

Matty groans, yet he continues to read on, underwhelmed but curiously hooked at the same time. Just as you’d begun to lay your head on his chest to relax, he lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth. 

“Oh, he’s not just protecting her, he’s ‘trailing his calloused hands down her curves, his hands rough from years of wielding his sword’,” he reads before making an exaggerated moan, fanning himself with his hand dramatically. 

You feel your stomach drop. You know exactly what chapter he’s reading from and it only gets more indecent from there. You pick your head up, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as, to your horror, he begins to read directly from the pages. 

“‘Her breasts heaved as he unhooked her corset, his rough hands against her pale skin as he lays her on the silken sheets’. Wow, I take it all back, this is better than I thought, you didn’t say they fuck.”

You sputter, realizing you should have known better than to let him get his hands on your novel. You’re never going to hear the end of this now. God help you, the look on his face is absolutely wicked. 

"But it's not just physical between them! He loves her more than anything and wants to show her what she’s been deprived of,” you shake your head, trying to snatch the book back to no avail, “You don’t get it, it’s for the girls, Matty.”

Matty rolls his eyes, chuckling at the heated scene that is unfolding on the pages before him, holding the book out of your reach. “Sweetheart, you can defend it however you want, this is absolutely filthy. You’re sitting here, casually reading pornography. Doesn’t matter if it’s ‘girly’.”

He leafs through the pages with the intent to get you thoroughly worked up, jabbing his finger at the page when he finds a particularly lewd section. He’s having far too much fun with this and he knows it.

“I mean, seriously, listen to this part. ‘His stare was piercing through her as he let her feel the stiffness of his pulsing member.’ Babe,” he chuckles in disbelief, “Horrid word choice there, so unsexy. I mean, just say dick.”

“Matty! Are you seriously doing this right now? Give it back,” you protest with heated cheeks, trying to reach for the novel just for Matty to hold it further away from you. 

“No, no. We’re just getting to the good parts now, lemme see,” he grins wolfishly, curling up closer to you so his lips are brushing against your ear, “‘Maneuvering her to sit in front of the tall, gilded mirror, the knight slips her silk nightgown over her waist. With his fingers on her delicate jaw, guiding her gaze forward, he lets his opposite hand smooth down her body…’”

You can feel the air between you change as the detailed, obscene words begin to slip from his lips with ease. He has one hand holding the book while the other slides over your waist, stirring warmth inside of you as he gently moves his fingers back and forth. His tone has dropped down to a low, sultry murmur, a shiver racing down your spine at the slight rasp in your ear, the hairs standing up at the back of your neck. The tips of your ears burn every time he emphasizes dirtier words, rubbing little circles against your hip as he drawls to you about how the knight is tearing off her panties. The chapter is salacious enough as is, but the way he reads it to you makes it feel downright foul. 

“... ‘She could feel an unfamiliar pressure building inside of her as he slowly curled his calloused finger upward, his thumb rubbing in tight circles against her heat, staring at her through the mirror’s reflection’,” Matty whispers, his breath hot, fanning against your skin.

He’s having a harder time focusing on the words when he can feel you getting increasingly warmer as you cling to his side, the heat radiating off of your skin from beneath your clothes. He doesn’t miss the way your hips squirm slightly, the crackling tension thickening the air between you as he reads. Matty can’t help but glance at you periodically, the unmistakable lust in your lidded eyes making him ache. 

You can’t take it any longer, it feels like your entire body is buzzing with need, warmth coursing through you endlessly, pooling deep inside of you. You cut him off mid-word by turning your head and pressing your lips to his heatedly. Matty moans into your mouth, letting the book tumble to the floor as he moves to roughly grasp your hips with both hands, pulling you flush against his frame. 

“Dirty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you with enough fervor to make your head spin. 

Your hands cling to his shirt, letting his tongue slip past your lips as his eager fingers roam, groping and feeling you as he pleases. Your breath shudders as Matty pulls away to mouth under your jawline, alternating between heated kisses and nips of his teeth. 

“Does it get you hot when you’re reading it, babe? Thinking about the knight fucking his princess?” he rasps, grabbing a handful of your ass. 

You can only whimper in response, your head tilting back to give Matty more room to continue his loving assault on your neck, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin. 

“Yeah, I bet it does,” he mumbles, laving his tongue over a faded love bite just above your collarbones. 

Matty slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, scooping you up with your legs around his waist. As he carries you from the couch to your bedroom, you can’t resist grinding a little against the front of his gray sweatpants, feeling him twitch beneath the fabric. He digs his fingers into your hips, you’re not quite sure if it’s as a warning or to encourage you. You love it either way. 

Just as you think he’s about to lay you down on the crisp sheets of your bed, Matty lowers you to the ground in front of your floor-length mirror, pulling you to sit in his lap with your legs spread, just like in the book. He taps your thigh, signaling for you to lift your hips, allowing him to slide off your pajama shorts. 

With an approving sigh, Matty smooths his hands out over your inner thighs, making a shiver skitter down your spine with tingling warmth. He coos, settling his chin on top of your shoulder as he stares at your body through the mirror. 

“Aw, you really liked me reading to you, baby. Look at yourself. You’re soaked through,” he admires, parting your legs wider to allow you a look at your dampened panties.

Matty skims his hand up your thigh with a murmur of “don’t look away” as he starts to feel over the darkened fabric of your underwear. You shudder, your lashes fluttering at the sensations that begin to stir at just the light brush of his calloused fingertips. You can feel your cheeks flush brighter at this new perspective, watching the two of you in the reflection of the mirror, seeing not only Matty’s reactions but also your own. You get to see the expressions that Matty loves so dearly when he’s making you fall apart, telling you how pretty you are. You do look pretty like this, with your skin flushed and your chest heaving with desire. 

Agonizingly slowly, he presses two fingers against your panties, rubbing in little circles over your clit just to make you squirm in his lap. Matty kisses from the top of your shoulder to right under your ear, his breath hot as he watches you from the corner of his eye. His eyes are intense, darkened with urges.

Steadily, he hooks his fingers under the fabric, sliding the soaked material to the side with a groan that rumbles against your back. A gasp is ripped from your lips as he parts you with his fingers, exposing you to him with frustratingly gentle pressure. You can tell he’s restraining himself tonight. Even though he’s itching to have you writhing, he slowly dips his thumb into your pooling arousal, his digit slick as he finds your clit with practiced ease. 

Your eyes roll at that feeling of first contact, sensations coursing through you as you get your first lick of relief. Matty traces firm circles, his other hand moving to grasp your breast, thumbing at your nipple over your shirt. 

“Matty, faster, please,” you pant, your voice wavering with need.

“Shh, this is how it went in the book, hm? He was so gentle with her, isn’t that right?” he mutters, dismissing the way your hips jump, aching for friction. You can’t stand it. He’d whined about how awful your book was, but now he’s treating it like gospel, refusing to stray from how the scene was written. 

Once he’s satisfied with how long he’s been lazily circling your clit, Matty picks up the pace just enough to make you whimper, still in control of your pleasure. His brows pinch together as your hips rock heedlessly on top of him, both of your eyes glued to his hand between your thighs. You can feel him, stiff and twitching beneath his sweats as the heat continues to bloom between you. Slowly, he starts to sink one finger inside of you, curling it just so. It’s obscene to watch.

“That’s it. Show me how much you like it,” Matty whispers, dragging his lower lip along your earlobe, “What does he do next?” 

“What?” you mumble, too caught up in the feeling of your brain melting down your spine to understand the question. Matty smirks with the satisfaction of rendering you wonderfully dumb. 

“In the book, darling. What does he do to her next?” he finishes, landing a firm spank on your cunt, relishing in your cry, “You didn’t let me finish readin’ ‘cause you got impatient, didn’t you, sweet girl? Always just gagging for me.”

You try and gather yourself enough to speak as Matty presses on your clit, your head lolling back against his shoulder. He moves his hand from your tits to your inner thigh, holding open your trembling legs in his secure hold.

“C’mon, talk to me,” he says with a kiss to your neck, encouragingly rubbing his thumb against your soft thigh, “I know you remember.”

“He… he has her look into her own eyes as he makes her cum.”

Matty whistles lowly, impressed, sounding like he’s sorry he didn’t think of doing that to you first. He reaches for your chin, grasping it to tilt your head down, watching you meet your own stare in the mirror. 

“Good girl, stay like that for me,” he murmurs, keeping his fingers splayed across your jaw. 

You watch as your eyes widen the moment Matty begins to swiftly move his thumb, pumping his finger in and out of you. Your brows furrow with a shuddering moan, your mouth dropping open. You grasp his wrist with urgency, feeling yourself approach the edge almost mortifyingly quickly as you pant and writhe on top of him.

“See how pretty you look when you’re about to cum? I fucking love that look. I live for it,” he grins, “That’s it, just let it happen, my love.” 

He tightens his hold on your jaw, reminding you to watch your face as you feel it wash over you in waves of relief through your whole body, your expression contorting with pleasure.

“Ah, fuck!” you cry, listening to him mutter breathy sighs of “Good fucking girl” and “Yeah, that’s right” in your ear. 

Once you go slack against his body, Matty withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to suck them clean, obscenely sliding his tongue between them while you catch your breath. 

“I reckon I did it better than him, what do you think?” he smirks, his voice muffled around his digits. You shake your head hazily as he lets go of them with a wet popping sound.

“You’re insufferable…”

“You love me. You looove me so badly,” he sings, grasping your sides lovingly as he presses his lips to your cheek.

You do love him. Badly. Even if you’re never going to hear the end of how terrible your book choices are.

[lonesome-sometimes]

up on the bookshelf

wheels on the bus 2 and it’s completely different because there is no bus or any form of transport at all really and matty is a librarian but it’s still wheels on the bus 2 (in the brat remix album cover format)

that was until a certain someone sitting behind the librarian desk caused you to drop them abruptly, sending a loud echo throughout the near silent building.

“matty?” you say in disbelief.

matty healy x female reader

content warnings: public sex, sweet service top matty, age gap, oral (female receiving), slight blood kink when you squint, lovey dovey stuff because I miss matty I’m genuinely a trainwreck right now

minors do not interact!

with your reading list in one hand, you huff in annoyance as you fail to find the last few textbooks you needed for the rest of the semester. admitting your defeat, you carry the rest of your books towards the front desk, already dreading the walk back to campus on the other side of town.

that was until a certain someone sitting behind the librarian desk caused you to drop them abruptly, sending a loud echo throughout the near silent building.

“matty?” you say in disbelief.

he looks up from the book he was engrossed in, startled by the loud thud. he takes a second to register who you were, scrambling to push his bookmark into place before turning his full attention towards you. “y/n? oh my go- hey! hey, how are you? god, I haven’t seen you since-”

“since the really, really long and awkward bus ride home with your wife in our presence after you-” you explain nonchalantly, causing the older to choke on his own spit as you remind him of your rest stop bathroom antics, not that he had ever forgotten.

he laughs nervously, pushing a hand through his shorter curls. “I mean, I guess? anyway, what are you doing here?”

“oh, I go to college here.” you say like its obvious, gesturing to nothing as you look around the empty room. “I just hate our campus library, or just our campus in general I suppose, so I come here to study and take my books out. It’s much quieter here, campus is too…studenty?”

he laughs with you, chuckling softly at how ridiculous it sounded. “I get your point, but aren’t you meant to like, enjoy all of that?” he thinks for a moment, shaking his head softly. “nevermind, that’s not the point. this is crazy, what a nice surprise I-”

“you have a moustache now.” you observe out loud, your tongue working quicker than your brain as your eyes lingered on his upper lip and the new strip of hair there, moving down towards the tight sleeves of his grey tshirt and admiring the way it hugged his frame perfectly. “...and you look like you’ve been working out…don’t tell me you…”

his cheeks tinge pink, swinging his chair slightly away from you as he lets out a nervous breath. “I told he, I mean, not about us! not exactly, I just told her how I felt and here I now am, working day shifts at the local library, waiting for my whole music thing to take off, while she vacates on some island somewhere with her neeew husband.” he draws out the new, politely taking a book from an older lady and wishing her a nice day, turning back towards you. “I’m happy here though, the people are nice and well, you’re here.”

It’s your turn to blush at his words, forgetting how sweet he had been with you in the bathroom moments after he had fucked your throat raw. “oh, come on matty, it’s not like you sat and dreamt about me everyday like a fairytale princess waiting for her prince to come…” you half joke half admit about yourself, causing his cheeks to turn a darker shade of pink at the comparison, his secrets spilling without having even said anything.

“oh I seeee.” you singsong as you lean forward, putting your hands on the desk so that you were leaning over him, letting your oversized tshirt fall off your shoulder slightly and revealing your collarbone. not the most flattering outfit you could have worn, but you weren’t exactly expecting your random one bus stand to show up anytime soon. “been thinking about me, matty?”

he visibly swallows, opening his mouth to answer but instead his eyes widen as a mother and daughter approach the desk. you stand up straight again, slightly embarrassed as you pull your tshirt centre again. you watch the exchange, matty smiling ever so sweetly as he hands the young girl her picture book and again wishes them a lovely day. he turns to you once more, sighing softly. “darling, I don’t think now is a good time, I’m working and-”

“matty, I managed to seduce you into fucking my throat with enough time for small talk afterwards inside the bathroom of a service station during a twenty minute rest stop, all while your wife-”

“-ex wife.” he corrects, smiling softly.

“...ex wife, was sitting back on the bus unaware of how her sweet little husband was crying for me and asking me about my favourite radiohead album, and you’re gonna sit here and tell me you can’t have a private conversation with me because you’re at work?”

theres a moment of silence as he looks between you and the empty room, standing up suddenly and grabbing your hand as he pulls you back towards an abandoned section of the library. smiling wide, you expect him to push you up against one of the old bookcases and start kissing you like a man starved as he pulls you in front of him, but it never comes.

Instead, he pulls you in. hands coming up around your waist, he hugs you. unexpected and unsure of what to do at first, you let your arms come up around his shoulders, pulling him in closer as you stroke the hair on the back of his neck softly, letting him breathe you in as you stay silent for a moment.

he pulls away, the both of you laughing as you realise how ridiculous this is, not having shared more than ten minutes alone together that didn’t include a quickie in a restroom. “everything okay, matty?” you ask, pushing his hair away from his face and letting your hand rest against his cheekbones as he nods.

“I wanted to erm, thank you, for helping me realise things about my life and marriage, I might not look like anything special at the moment but since meeting you I’ve been able to find my own place, I have a kitten who I adore, and I actually get to work on my music I-” he stops. “I’m really happy y/n, and I owe that to you.”

for a second you’re worried he’s being completely serious. “m-matty, you surely can’t fully believe I’m to blame for all that, you barely even know me I-”

he starts kissing down your collarbone, letting your tshirt fall again as he sinks down down down till he’s almost kneeling in front of you, his hands coming up towards your tshirt, breathing heavy. “no really darling, thank you so, so much.” he breaths, punctuating each so with a wet kiss to your stomach, kissing and licking at each expanse of skin he can reach. your hand comes up to cover your mouth, the other moving to hold the back of hid head through the fabric of your shirt. somehow this felt much more intimate, more naughty, than the restroom ever did.

he reappears from under your shirt, staring up at you with complete adoration as his fingers dance up your thighs and hooking themselves into the waistband of your leggings. “can I please?” he asks ever so politely, although your pants are already being pulled down low enough so that he can access where he wanted before you had chance to answer. your face was on fire.

“been thinking about doing this since I met you, wanted to taste you so bad darling.” he breaths out against you sending goosebumps across your skin, lips so close to you as he teases before finally settling on your core.

you desperately try to stay quiet, the fact that you were both in a library being some sick torture and punishment for engaging in infidelity beforehand because good god was he good with his tongue, licking and sucking at your clit like he was desperate. his large hands almost enveloped your waist, holding you in place as he began to fuck you on his tongue up against the shelf behind you. you thread your fingers through his salt and pepper locks, frowning when it was a little too short to pull. still, you let your fingers stay where they were, your lips bitten red as you tried to conceal your noises.

suddenly he stops, pulling away from you with only a trail of spit connecting the two of you, lips glistening with your wetness. you look down, brows furrowed in confusion as you try and catch your breathe. “w-why’d you stop?”

he giggles before diving in again like a teenager, his hands moving to hook around the backs of your thighs now. you moan around your fist, desperatly trying to stay as quiet as you can but failing miserably. he shushes you, the vibration from his vocal chords not helping your situation as you feel yourself quickly approaching the edge. “m-matty I-”

he pulls away for a small second, eyes wide and hungry. “please cum for me darling, need to feel you cum on my tongue-” he begs, quickly diving back in as he licks you through your orgasm, groaning softly as he feels you clench around his tongue, lapping at your folds as he cleans up your orgasm.

“fuck-” you bring a finger up towards your lip, blood pooling on your tongue from where you had to bite to keep quiet unless you wanted the whole library to hear you. he pulls your leggings back up and over your thighs, the both of you silently thanking somebody for the fact that nobody was looking for cooking books. he smiles up at you dopily, allowing himself to catch his breath before standing back up.

“good?” he breaths out, pulling your bloodied finger to his lips to lick it clean. You couldn’t find the words to answer, nodding as you watch his lips sucking your fingers entranced. He pulls off them with a pop, smiling at the way he left you speechless.

you both forget where you are until an older male comes around the corner, causing you both to jump away from each other. he doesn’t suspect much, why would he? shooting you both a small smile before turning and going back the way he came, sending you both laughing.

“so…” he begins as your giggles come to a stop, shuffling from foot to foot nervously. “I don’t actually finish up in here for another hour, but I could drive you back to campus? your books seemed heavy, and I’m guessing you don’t have a car…”

god, you were so smitten for him and you had only spent less than an hour with him alone at most. “...or I could come to yours?”

he smiles, thinking for a moment as you two start walking back towards the desk, to no surprise the place was still pretty much empty. “wanna see a picture of lilah?”

you squeal at the idea of singing his kitten, sending apologies to nobody at the sudden loud noise coming from you once again. “yes please.” you nod and whisper, the idea of seeing both matty and lilah filling you with warmth.

you were right, the local library was definitely better than the campus library.

[wreckedandpolemic]

won’t fuck unless he famous - matty healy

(mdni) in which you're a serial starfucker, and you finally have a chance at the man who tops your wishlist. part of summer75 2024. 3254 words.

warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), titwank, slightly problematic power dynamic

The energy surrounding you is electric as the final note squeals out of the amplifiers, drawn out as the crowd around you cheers wildly. Fireworks pop and fizz against the inky sky, heralding the end of the evening’s entertainment for so many. Yours, though, is just beginning. As you watch the band leave the stage, your eyes are glued to the frontman with a singular goal in mind: getting under him.

Look. You aren’t famous, by any stretch of the word. Notorious is more like it, a careful balance of easy charm and knowing the right people buying you access nearly anywhere you want. Matty Healy, though, is your white whale, having eluded your grip at every turn, a blank spot in your ever-growing red ledger. You’ve wanted him ever since you first laid eyes on him at 16, screaming along to The 1975 in your bedroom, bars you’d snuck into, the front rows of sold-out arenas.

And you can pinpoint the moment it switched from an idealistic, childish fantasy to a question not of I wish, of if, but of when.

The first time you’d flirted and conned your way backstage at a festival, you were barely legal and making the most of your gap year. It hadn’t led to much, a passing fling with some singer whose album and dick were equally forgettable. The lasting impression of that night was the split-second of eye contact you’d made with Matty as you came — you and the guy hadn’t really tried to hide, just slipped around a corner and backed against a wall. You’ve replayed the memory so many times it’s worn smooth, and you don’t know whether you recall his eyes dilating for a fraction of a second before he stumbled away, or if it was a trick of your mind, imprinted and false.

Either way, he’ll be seeing a lot more than just your o-face if you get your way tonight. Squaring your shoulders and pasting on a blithe smile, fluttering your lashes and describing a nondescript (read: nonexistent) friend who’s crew until the security guard relents and lets you back. By now, you’re an expert in acting like you belong, able not to react when you brush shoulders with celebrities. You know just when to stroke an ego, play up your awe without coming off obsessive, and it’s gotten you under men far more famous than your next target.

The grass is worn through under your feet as you wander up to a bar, carefully scanning for his presence as you scoop up your rum and coke and saunter away. A girl you know is their crew catches your eye, one you’ve met before, the last time you failed to catch Matty’s attention. You wave, and she brightens, dashing up to you like you’re old friends. “Sorry!” she hisses in your ear when she flings her arms around you. “I could not shake that guy.” You laugh, tipping your head back like she said something hilarious, and cast your best disgusted glare at the guy, who thankfully takes the hint. “How’d you get back here, anyway?”

You grin. “Well, you know what they say about lying, right?”

“What, it’s the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off?”

You lean in. “But it’s better if you do.”

She chuckles, eyes alight with mischief. “Hey, you scratch my back, I scratch yours. You want me to introduce you?” Raising an eyebrow, she nods in answer to the question you haven’t even asked. Your eyes practically bug out of your head, unable to hide your shock.

You’d figured that actually getting to him was going to be the hardest part, but clearly it pays to have friends in high places. Steeling yourself, you let your mask of implacable calm fall over your face and follow the girl (whose name you still don’t remember!) as she strolls up to Matty like it’s the most casual thing in the world. He greets her with a smile and a friendly side hug, then lets his gaze flicker over you. He maintains a skilled poker face; if you weren’t so well-versed in what interest looks like on the faces of men like him, you’d miss it entirely, the brief flare of his nostrils, his tongue flickering out to wet his lips, his hand unconsciously raking through his hair.

You let the moment hang for a second, charged as his lips quirk into a half-smile, then introduce yourself. Matty doesn’t remember you, but he recognises you, immediately catching onto exactly what you want. Good. You like it better this way, when you don’t have to play cat and mouse, act coy while they pretend not to want you. As the conversation rolls on around you, Matty starts literally, actually eye-fucking you, gaze lidded as he imagines all the filthy things he’d like to do to you. When there’s a lull, you seize the moment, dipping into your pocket for your out. “Spliff, anyone?”

The others, predictably, decline, so you and Matty wander off until you’re mostly secluded, lights and music fading into the background as you edge towards the tour buses. “I know who you are,” Matty says as you lift the spliff to your lips.

“Then you know what I want,” you say, smirking. The flame from his lighter illuminates him for a second, shadows pooling under his features as he’s cast in an ethereal, golden glow. You inhale deeply, letting the burn in your lungs pull you away from his distracting beauty. You pass Matty the spliff, smoke curling free from your mouth, his gaze glued to your lips. He’s calculating, formulating a response that will give him back his footing. You interrupt before that can happen. “So, why don’t you tell me what you want? You wanna hear how incredible you were tonight? How incredible you’ve been every time I’ve seen you?”

At that, he seems genuinely surprised. “You’ve seen us before?”

The answer comes before you think it through, impassive facade slipping the longer you spend in his presence. “Yeah. This must be, what, the tenth or eleventh time, now?” Matty’s eyes light up, and you thank God for his ego, that his decisions are already being made by his dick and not his rational brain.

“Thought you were just lookin’ for another name in your little black book. But this is personal, isn’t it?” he breathes, voice thick with smoke. “You want me, don’t you, darling?” He leans close, takes a deep pull and slots his lips over yours.

You breathe in greedily, letting the high overtake you, head going hazy with some intoxicating combination of the weed and his hand sliding into your hair. “Yes.”

Matty groans against your lips, the spliff burning forgotten in his other hand. “S’fucking hot. Girl like you, spendin’ all her time looking for a famous fuck, and the whole time you’re just hoping I’ll look your way, right?”

Heat creeps up your spine, warming your cheeks as arousal starts pooling in your belly. You nod, swallowing thickly “Been tryin’ forever. Think about you every fuckin’ night,” you confess, gasping for it as his lips hover cruelly out of reach.

He grins wickedly, backing away to stamp out the spliff. “Why don’t you tell me what you think about, and I’ll decide if you deserve me, yeah? Needy little groupie.” Your thighs clench involuntarily, desire burning in your blood as you search his expression for anything but sincerity.

“Think about waitin’ on my knees for you when you come off stage, lettin’ you take out all your stress on my throat and swallowing like a good girl.” Matty inhales sharply, pupils blowing wide despite his straight face. “Wished you could fuck me backstage, shove your fingers in my mouth to keep me quiet while you just take what you need from me. Knew you’d change my life,” you add, feeding into his ego a little as his smirk grows wider.

Gripping your hips, Matty pulls you in, eyes liquid with desire as your breathing grows laboured. You stumble, crashing into him as his lips meet yours, his kiss commanding. Arousal drips between your legs and you moan into his mouth, knees buckling when he pulls away to mouth at your jaw. “C’mon, darling. Come let me change your life.” His expression is pure arrogance, a man who knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you, wet and needy and made of pure desperation.

You trail after him as he suddenly turns on his heel and strides away, tugging you by the hand and pulling you in for hot, breathless kisses every few steps. Matty knocks the wind from your lungs, pressing you against the outside of their tour bus, kissing and biting possessively at your neck. “Please,” you whimper, writhing under his touch and widening your legs pathetically.

“I don’t think so,” Matty scoffs. “Already bein’ so greedy, baby, gettin’ the dick you’ve been gaggin’ for for so long. M’gonna take my time with you, okay?” You nod frantically, his clothed cock pressing insistently against your core as you soak your panties. Your head is swimming, dizzy and still a little high and disbelieving that Matty fucking Healy has a hand creeping up your thigh. You don’t say a word, not risking anything that could break the spell surrounding you in this breathless moment. “Get your tits out f’me, yeah?”

Thoughtlessly, you obey, tugging your shirt down off your shoulders so your tits spill free, hissing softly at the cold air kissing over your bare skin. Matty groans appreciatively, taking a greedy handful and squeezing hard, a low moan falling from your lips. “You like ‘em?” you murmur, arching up into his touch. “Could fuck ‘em, if you want. S’long as you cum on my face.” His jaw goes slightly slack, suddenly picturing your face painted white and growing impossibly harder against your thigh.

In an instant, your dress is shoved up around your waist and Matty’s tugging your panties down, motioning for you to step out of them when they hit the floor. He tucks them into his pocket with a wicked smirk. “For safekeeping,” he says, kissing his way down your chest until his lips wrap around your nipple. A bolt of arousal strikes in your core at the scrape of his teeth against your sensitive skin, pain flashing under your skin for a second before he soothes you with his tongue. “Such pretty tits, darling. Gonna let me fuck them after I eat you, yeah?”

“Anything you want,” you whine, sliding your hand into his hair to push him back down as he starts to pull away. “Mark me,” you plead. “Please. I need to know this wasn’t a dream when I wake up tomorrow.” You feel Matty smirk against your skin, throwing your head back to allow him access to your neck. He bites a trail of bruises down your neck, collar, over your tits, patches of sore, red skin blooming gloriously under his touch. When Matty drops to his knees, you feel shockingly exposed without his body covering yours, your dress pulled down below your tits and up above your waist so your dripping cunt is bared to the cool night air. Matty’s nails dig into your thighs, pulling your legs further apart so he can slot himself neatly between them.

Your stomach clenches in anticipation. “So fuckin’ wet, baby. D’you get this soaked for everyone before they even touch you, or are you just a little slut for me?” he murmurs, licking a broad, flat stripe across your cunt.  Vision practically whiting out, your answer dies on your tongue, a helpless whine of his name spilling free instead. “C’mon, baby, answer me. Can’t be so dumb already, I’ve hardly touched you,” Matty scoffs, the condescension dripping hot and sticky down your spine.

“Only f’you,” you gasp out. “Fuckin’ dreamed about this, I– oh, fuck,” you moan, his tongue working over your clit in quick, tight circles. You grind down against his mouth, pressure mounting in your belly. You’re on a hair trigger, you can tell, the barest touches already pulling you close. It’s near-Pavlovian, the realisation of all your fantasies exhilarating. Cunt clenching as he tongue-fucks you languidly, you bury one hand in his hair as the other scrambles for purchase against cool metal.

“Close already, aren’t you? So fuckin’ desperate,” Matty croons, fingers coming up to toy with your swollen clit. You buck your hips against his hand, whimpering and pleading incoherently. He laps greedily at you, moaning softly and tugging at your hips so he can drive his tongue ever deeper. He moans into your cunt, the sound vibrating deliciously through you as you tighten your hand in his curls.

Your eyes fall closed, head thudding against metal when you tip it back with a groan. Ecstasy winds tight in your belly, tugging insistently at you as Matty speeds his motions at your clit, every nerve in your body aflame. “Shit, Matty,” you gasp, tense with the effort of holding back. His nails bite into your thighs, the pain at once sweet and grounding, a blissful anchor amongst the night’s unreality. “Feels s’fucking good, Matty.”

Without warning, he pulls away, and you whine pathetically. The sight of him on his knees with his lips and chin dripping with your arousal is almost too much, your legs going weak as you stare unashamedly, cataloguing every second with careful precision. You’re going to fantasise about this night every day for the rest of your fucking life. “Play with your tits for me, okay, angel?”

The epithet makes you hot all over, shivering under his gaze as you obey mindlessly, grasping and pinching at your tits and letting pleasure run over you. You’re helpless against the tide, head thrashing back and forth as Matty makes out with your hole, moaning into your cunt and circling your clit ever faster. Cunt throbbing, you rock your hips, unconscious of anything but Matty’s hands on you, his fingers against your clit, his curls brushing your stomach, his tongue in your cunt. It’s sloppy, soaked with spit and desire, your entire body unspooling under his touch.

“Matty, m’so close, fuck,” you gasp, your words coming out slurred through sick desire. Your heart is hammering, prey caught in a trap you couldn’t escape from if you wanted to, Matty devouring you as you’re pinned, immobile against the pure ecstasy roaring in your ears. “Oh, my fucking God,” you cry, teetering precariously on the edge.

“You gonna cum, darling? Gonna fuckin’ soak me? Go ahead, angel, cum f’me,” Matty murmurs, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard. Your knees buckle, your orgasm crashing over you so hard you practically fall out of your body, pure pleasure wiping your mind clean. You can feel it in every inch of your body, your every nerve alive with it, hot and sweet and seemingly neverending. Moaning helplessly, you start to sway on your feet, head swimming in ecstasy that’s making you dizzy and dumb. Matty’s hands are steadying at your waist, electricity jumping from everywhere his skin touches yours.

His lips and chin are fucking soaked, glistening with your arousal, visceral evidence of what you’ve just done. You lick into his mouth greedily when he kisses you, something illicit thrilling in your veins as your bare tits press against the leather of his jacket, the zipper cool against your heated skin. The contrast of him still being fully-clothed while you’re exposed makes you shiver from something entirely separate from cold. Matty steps back, eyes glued to your tits as a smirk stretches across his slick lips. “My eyes are up here,” you scoff.

“Yeah, and your tits are down here.” You can’t find it in yourself to feel shame at the rush of arousal that sweeps over you at his words.

You grab one of your tits, kneading it gratuitously and thumbing over your nipple. “Still wanna fuck ‘em?” His eyes blow wide, shooting you a look that says what kind of question is that? and fumbling to let you into the tour bus. You scramble breathlessly after him, letting him push you down onto a bed and desperately shoving his jacket off his shoulders. He tugs his shirt off, and you drink in the sight of him shirtless from up close, sweat glistening on his toned chest.

There’s a visible wet spot on his boxers when he strips out of his jeans, you notice with a bolt of pride-tinged arousal, your mouth watering as his cock springs free, thudding stickily against his belly. “Shit, got me so fuckin’ hard, angel. Gonna let me fuck those pretty tits, let me cum all over your face?” Matty kneels over you, slowly stroking his dripping cock as he watches your chest heave.

“Please,” you breathe, gazing up at him as he leans down to spit on your tits, the slick, messy slide sending a pulse of heat between your legs. His lips part around a guttural moan as he slides between your tits, thrusting shallowly and groaning out soft praises. You drop your jaw, sticking out your tongue to lick over his head, the salt taste of him intoxicating.

Precum and spit smear across your chest, rhythmic moans filling the tiny, cramped space as Matty fucks your tits. “Doin’ so good, baby. Like a little fuckin’ sex toy f’me, such a good girl. Y’look so pretty, baby,” he coos, your entire body flushing under his affections. You kitten-lick over his head every time he thrusts, his answering moans heating your core, arousal dripping from your cunt. “Such a little cumslut, angel.”

“Mhmm,” you moan, arching your back and pinching a nipple, dizzy with desire. “M’your cumslut, Matty.” His pace speeds, sloppy as he drools precum over your chest and against your tongue. You lap it up eagerly, drunk on him. Pure lust is written across Matty’s face, jaw slack as he watches himself disappear between your tits, awed.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Matty gasps, his cheeks hot and lips wet with drool. “M’getting close, angel. Where do you want me?”

“On my face,” you breathe, the words coming without you even having to think. “In my mouth, please.” With what looks like a monumental effort, he climbs off you, fisting his cock gracelessly. Eagerly, you watch him fuck his fist, jaw hanging open expectantly. With a low moan of your name, Matty spills across your face, ropes of cum splashing hot against your cheeks and on your waiting tongue.

Closing your eyes, you swallow deliberately, moaning at the taste of him and smiling beatifically. “Good girl,” he grins, panting slightly and watching you fondly. “You need anything? Want me to get you cleaned up?” God, you don’t know if you can take him being all sweet with you on top of it all. You’re going to do something embarrassing like beg for his number if you don’t change the mood, and quickly.

“What, you only good for one round, or somethin’? Getting too old to show your groupies a proper fuck?” you taunt.

The glint in Matty’s eye turns dangerous, and you gulp. “Greedy girl’s not satisfied with my cum all over her face, s’that it? You want more?” You murmur out an affirmative, anticipation tense in your belly. “My little cockslut,” he smirks, climbing over you and caging you in with his arms around your head. “Don’t worry, baby. M’gonna give you what you need.”

[whimsicalpolitical]

Perfect - Matty Healy

sweet sweet aftercare ‘cause of this ask

content warning: 18+ mdni, p in v, kinda rough matty in the beginning, dirty talk, spanking, aftercare

You know right then and there, nothing you will ever experience for the rest of your life will feel as good as the drag of his cock inside you. You feel every ridge, every vein, every twitch.

You feel like you lose consciousness for a second, but regain it with the brutal snap of his hips. Very quickly he finds a pace he likes and sticks with it.

You scream out on instinct, and seconds later you are met with his hand across your mouth.

"Be fuckin' quiet." Matty snaps. He pulls you up by your shoulders, your back against his front. You'd never been in this position before, his cock is so deep inside you, you are seeing stars. You are whining against his hand and letting him use you like a toy. He is splitting you open and you fucking love it.

“Moan ‘round my hand all you want, m’ gonna fucking use you.”

"Shit, this is my perfect pussy." He says, his pace increasing as you feel the head of him brush something deep inside of you. You feel impossibly full, pleasure coursing through every vein of your body just letting him take you in any way he needs.

You squirm around him, trying to move a bit, to make you both feel better.

You feel a harsh slap on your ass next.

“Quit your fuckin’ brat shit.”

A whine slips from your lips, it’s been to long since you’ve felt his kiss. “Matty.”

“What? Hm?” He asks, “tell me your color.”

“Yellow- green-ish.”

You so badly want him close, to feel his lips on yours, kiss until your lips are red and wet from his tongue.

“What d’you need, darlin’?”

“Kiss.”

Matty chuckles and pulls your hair until your head is falling back. He collides his lips with yours. It’s an open mouth kiss, his hips not stilling but moving even more. You moan into his mouth as he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip.

“Alright?”

You nod before letting your head fall back down.

“God, my good girl, s’ it green now?”

“Yes, yes, all green.”

“S’ all it takes, a kiss from me? Pathetic.”

That makes your eyes roll back in your head. You love when he humiliates you.

"You’re a slut f’me, only f’me, understand?”

“Only f-for you.”

The white hot pleasure rolls inside of you, sparking every where it can like a frayed wire and igniting fires inside of you. He strucks down on your ass, leaving a red mark.

“That’s right.”

“Oh fuck- matty.”

He sneaks a hand around you and rubs your clit in circles, and relishes in your bitten back moans and cries for his name being muted by the roughness of his hand. He feels your muscles going limp underneath him. He feels you squeezing him tightly.

"You gonna cum baby? Go ahead, soak my cock." His voice just above a whisper.

You soak his stomach, his thighs, yourself, cumming all over him but his pace doesn’t relent. He's using you. Sliding in and out while holding your body upright against him. He's ruining you even more than before, the sound of your wetness squelching with the crack of his hips. You feel like you are going to die, in the best way. If you died right now with his cock inside of you, it wouldn't be too bad.

You feel his hips falter, and you know he is close.

The moans he is choking back sound like heaven. The whisper of your name on his lips does something cynical to you.

"Where d’you want it, love? Gonna let me fill you up? Mark you as mine?” He manages.

"In. Inside. Need to feel it, Matty, mark me.”

Not even a second later you feel it pour through you, the warmth of it filling up your cunt and dripping out of your hole. He pulls out and watched himself drip out of you. It is pornographic. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds to push it back inside you, gasping when it hits your swollen clit.

“Matty-“ you whine, the soreness already starting to get you to feel a bit shit.

“You should see yourself, all filled up with my cum, s’perfect.” He leans down to kiss your lower back, signalizing you that it’s fine to turn around and drop down against the mattress. “You’re perfect.”

You smile sleepily and lay down on the blanket, too exhausted to wrap the blanket around you and you already know he’s going to clean you up.

“Be a good girl now and stay awake.”

“Mhm.”

You sound displeased and that’s because your behind is much more sorer then any other body part. It stings and that’s why you try to find a comfortable position.

Matty stands at the edge of the bed putting on a white Calvin Klein boxer.

“baby, take it easy, and lay on your stomach. I’m gonna take care of you.”

His voice is more distant.

“Where are you going?” You ask, a little bit panic in your voice as if he didn’t just tell you he’s going to take care of you.

“Just going to the bathroom, I’m gonna grab a few things, I’ll be right back, love, don’t worry.”

“No, please,” you plead.

“Love,” Matty begins to walk towards the bed, “have to clean you up.”

“Later, matt,” you sound drowsy with your eyes closed and your hands trying to reach Matty’s body.

Matty hums and lays down on the bed, your head falls onto his chest and even though he’s now next to you, you’re still hurt. He, of course, notices.

He loops his arm around your leg pulling it over his own, his hand then travels to your red ass rubbing slow circles on your skin.

You relax under his touch, your breathing slowing down.

“That’s it, my love,” he whispers, “you’re so perfect, d’you know that? You always do so well for me.”

You don’t answer, too tired to move or talk.

“Baby, don’t fall asleep, you have to use the toilet and I have to clean you up.”

You shake your head and smile, “kiss me first?”

“Of course,” he laughs.

He leans down more, aware of the fact that you’re physically exhausted, breaking his neck while doing so. But he doesn’t care the second your lips intertwine with his. You don’t have much strength to kiss him as deeply as you do most of the time, but he doesn’t care at all.

“How about a quick shower?” He asks.

This time you don't try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he'll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you're sure you won't float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately.

"Can you answer me?" He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position.

"Baby. I wanna hear your voice."

"Mhm," you manage.

Matty rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry.

"Now?”

You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can't seem to get him close enough.

"Just want to stay here.”

“I know, we really need to get up now, though.”

Matty thumbs away a few stray tears, purely from pleasure, that have fallen down your cheeks. Your eyes are still a little clouded.

"c'mon, darling," Matty snakes an arm around your waist to pull you flush to him. You keep your head in the crook of his neck as he helps you to your feet and into the bathroom.

He sets you down onto the counter while he’s prepping everything, laying the softest towels down, his sweater and new panties for you.

He turns the shower on, waiting a bit until it’s warm enough. Your eyes are still a little clouded and Matty notices almost immediately.

"feeling okay?" he kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and finally your lips.

You nod, face flushing. "more than okay." Matty hums.

Matty takes his time with you in the shower. he makes sure the water is just the right temperature before he pulls you in.

His hands are soft as they wash and massage your scalp. He’s mindful of your sensitivity and when you're done, he wraps you up in a big fluffy white towel.

“What can I get you?” Matty asks.

“Bed,” you mumble, tiredness finally taking over. “But also m’ cold.”

"You're cold?" He asks and you answer him with a nod.

Earlier matty was wearing a basic white button shirt with an elegant wool sweater draped over it. You told him at least ten times of how nice you think the sweater looks.

Matty kisses your forehead. He squeezes your hip and turns around to lift his sweater off a little shelf..

"Arms up," matty instructs gently.

You do as you're told, the soft material concealing your body in the best way possible. The smile on your face tells Matty he made the right choice.

He then slides your underwear over your legs and a few seconds later you finally make it back to bed.

Matty helps you before sliding in after you. You promptly curl into Matty’s side.

“Wasn’t too rough with you, was I?”

You shake your head and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “nah, you’re perfect. Always.”

He massages your skin gently, over all the places he had been a little rough earlier, gentle fingers pressing against your hips and thighs.

“You’re perfect, sweet girl.”

Locking eyes with him, you then utter in utmost adoration, “I love you so much,” craning up to kiss his lips softly. 

“I love you, I love you,” he murmurs between pecks.

“Let’s get some sleep now and then we can watch the ridiculous show you like s’much.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” you roll your eyes.

“Whatever you say.”

He snuggles in behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso much like he had when he was in the bath with you. You turn around to face him one last time to press a kiss to his lips before nuzzling into his chest. His arms shift to move around your shoulders and waist, your leg thrown over one of his own.

“Sleep well, my love.”

Having having your breathing lull him to sleep is a tune he will never get tired of playing. Nights like these, cuddled up with one another, safe in each other's grasp, are the reason he knows you’re the right one.

You want to spend the rest of your life’s together.