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alovesreading · 22 days ago

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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!

| 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

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wreckedandpolemic · 9 months ago

Text

white and gold - matty healy

(mdni) in which you become both entangled and enamoured with your father's boss. 13007 words.

warnings (buckle up): 18+, problematic age gap, masturbation, corruption kink, slight exhibitionism, praise, degradation, heavy daddy kink, slight dumbification, unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), filth filth filth filth filth!

Your heels click against the tiled floor as you stroll across the lobby of your father’s office, giving a winning smile to the familiar security guard as he waves you through. Humming along to the song that plays over your headphones as the lift rises, you wonder idly why your father wanted to have lunch with you today; he had been oddly insistent that morning. The doors ding open and you step out into the office, fairly quiet at lunch hour. Men in suits mill around, their gazes catching on you and darting away so they can pretend their lurid thoughts aren’t painted plain as day on their faces.

Scanning the room, you don’t immediately spot the man you’re looking for. On a closer look, your father’s thinning hair and crisp suit are nowhere to be seen. Strange, again; he’s always here to meet you when he wants to take you out for lunch. Your searching gaze lands on a man heading for the lift, the sight of him arresting, practically rooting you to the spot. Greying curls haloed around a sharp, handsome face, lips plush red. A silver hoop shines in one of his ears, standing out against his dark hair. The designer sunglasses that sit across the bridge of his nose should be obnoxious, but he wears them louche and rakishly charming. He’s younger than your father, but not by much; probably nearing twice your age. You don’t recognise him — you know everyone who works for your father practically inside and out, and you’d never forget a face like his.

Suddenly, he’s in front of you, and you’re blinking dumbly at the material of his expensive suit. “Are you lost?” he asks, his voice low and alluring, wrapping around you like a caress. The sunglasses block your view of his eyes, leaving you unfairly unable to tell whether he’s reacting to you the way you are to him.

You swallow thickly, fighting to find your voice. “No,” you say confidently. “Well… kinda, I guess?” you add with a laugh. “I’m looking for my dad.” You offer his name, and he nods in recognition.

“Ah— My fault, that. Sorry, love,” he says, voice softening on the final syllable in a way that has you biting the inside of your cheek to get your racing heartbeat under control. “Kept him late in a meeting.” You nod absently, distracted as his tongue flickers out to wet his lips and leaves them pink and glossy. Hopefully you aren’t wearing your thoughts too obviously on your face. “Matty,” he offers, holding out a hand.

You take it politely, surprised at the calluses scraping against your palm. He doesn’t look the type for hard work, the very shape of him insouciant, privilege scented on him under the smell of cigarettes and expensive cologne. The weight of his hand in yours as Matty holds your gaze for just a split-second too long feels charged, tension welling between you. After a beat, you give your name and Matty quirks an enigmatic half-smile that you just can’t get a read on. You wonder what kind of picture you’re painting for him; ribbons in your hair, skirt short enough to tease without any promise, socks biting into the flesh of your thighs. Your soft pastels boast innocence, a clean sweetness begging to be ruined where the sharp lines of him are rough around the edges, something dark tightly controlled under his easy smile. The pair of you are incongruous, yet symmetrical somehow, an artist’s rendition of impropriety.

The coolness in your palm when he lets go feels like a physical loss, your entranced gaze lingering on his face for another brief moment. Then he gives a cursory nod and strolls off, the spell breaking and leaving you stock-still as if you’ve been doused with a bucket of cold water. His name rolls around your head as you pick your way to your father’s office; Matty, Matty, Matty, like a litany, the concurrent chime of warning bells going unheard, or maybe just ignored.

Your father smiles up at you when you enter his office, getting up as if to hug you and stopping awkwardly short. He doesn’t know how to act around you, a consequence of the years of long hours and late nights that afford you your lifestyle but cost you a family. You make clumsy small-talk on the drive; he asks you how uni is going, you ask about work, he forgets the names of your friends, you remember the names of his. The same circles you always talk in. It’s never unpleasant, but always stiff, artificial.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to meet you,” he says once you’re seated in a quiet corner of your favourite restaurant. He remembered that about you, at least. “I was in a meeting that ran long.”

You try not to visibly perk up at the reminder of possibly the most gorgeous man you’ve ever met. “Oh, yeah,” you say, feigned casualness layered over your tone. “I met the guy you were with on his way out. Who was he? I don’t think I’ve seen him before.” Your father pauses briefly, and you wonder if you’ve laid it on too thick, showed too much interest. But you know your father couldn’t reconcile the idea of you being interested in one of his coworkers with the image he holds of you as his little girl.

He sits up straighter, adjusting his tie in the way he does because he thinks it’ll lend more gravity to his next words. “It was actually a very important meeting, or I wouldn’t have let it run as long as it did. It was with the VP of the company, Matthew Healy.” He nods self-importantly. “Very nice chap, honestly. I convinced him to allocate us more budget next quarter, which means that…”

You tune out the rest of his corporate jargon, letting the new information you’ve gleaned rattle around your brain. Vice fucking President. The scandal you’d cause selfishly thrills you more, because who could gainsay it, really? Sure, your father would have some choice words, but he’d keep them to himself in public for the sake of his job. You almost giggle picturing the vein that would throb in his forehead, and then remember yourself and focus back into the conversation right as your father finishes talking.

The waiter who has been hovering a tasteful distance away seizes the gap in conversation to take your order. You order without looking at the price, leaning casually back in the booth as you rattle off the name of the dish in perfect Italian. A few minutes later, the smooth, dark flavour of an espresso martini on your tongue, your father finally gets to the point.

He says your name seriously, levelling you with a look that’s laden with meaning over his drink. “I wanted to meet with you today to talk about something.” You nod uncertainly, unable to track where this is going. “Your last year at university is starting in September, and I’d like to know you have somewhere to go when you’re finished. Other people studying your course have been making industry connections and networking for years, and I’m concerned that you’ll be behind when you’re trying to get into work.”

You let him talk, even as you mentally roll your eyes. He’s showing care in one of the only ways he knows how, and you can’t really begrudge him that. Never mind that the idea of trudging to the office every day in a dull grey pantsuit and attending mergers and meetings for the rest of your life gives you the shivers. You open your mouth to bring this up, but pause when he continues. “I know you aren’t sure about using your degree, but there’s a dinner this weekend that I’d like you to come to. Just to see how everything works, show your face, start making yourself a name, hm?”

The refusal sits on the tip of your tongue, balancing there on instinct, but then you consider that this might be your only chance to see Matty again. Of course, he might not even be there, but it’s a risk you’re willing to take. Your thoughts haven’t strayed from him for more than five minutes since you met, he’s a nagging itch under your skin that you just can’t scratch, and you need him. “Okay,” you say, cutting your father off. He goes silent mid-spiel, having anticipated you taking more convincing than that. “Is it black-tie?”

Your father watches you curiously as you sip demurely at your cocktail. “Yes. I’m very happy you agreed,” he adds, the implicit question hanging heavy in the air between you.

With an airy shrug, you set down your glass. “Like you said, I’m not committing to anything. I just get to have a free fancy dinner, basically.” It’s a casual excuse, characteristic enough of you that your father couldn’t even begin to guess at your real motivation. The same waiter suddenly materialises with your food, and you dig in happily.

Over the course of your meal, your father explains the most important figures who’ll be attending, and Matty is among them, thank God. You try, subtly, to pry into his personal life, but come up fairly short; you can’t find a tasteful way to ask if he’s married, although it’s not unlikely, with a face like his. Once your father’s free hour has dried up, he drops you home and you slink off to your room and fall into your bed.

Guiltily, you pull up a private browsing tab on your phone and search matthew healy wife. A grin spreads as you find no results, wider when girlfriend turns up nothing but a string of articles about his latest breakup. Switching to image searching, you scroll through dozens of photographs of him, posed and smiling, this time missing the sunglasses and letting you admire his sweet brown eyes. Then you come across a photo of him giving the camera the eyes, your thighs clenching as he smoulders in a way that feels directed to you, a twin of the look he gave you earlier.

You let your eyes fall closed, your phone thudding against the pillow as your hand creeps under your waistband. The first brush at your clit buzzes bright up your spine, a pleased whine falling from your lips. Instinctively, you dig under your pillow for your vibrator, your other hand tugging your skirt and panties down your legs. You lay in just your blouse and socks, the barest hint of wetness beginning to pool between your thighs.

The sudden pulse of heat as you press the vibrator to your clit is almost too much, your body tensing at the sensation. Your hazy mind conjures up an image of Matty, his spectre watching you touch yourself for him. He’s on you in seconds, the ghost of his kiss almost tangible against your lips, the idea of his calloused fingers running over your skin so real they almost feel like a memory. Rocking your hips, you chase the pleasure that rolls over you, coiling low in your belly. You can almost hear Matty murmuring encouragement in your ear, telling you how pretty and good you are for him.

Body writhing against the sheets, a whimper of his name spills from your bitten lips, pleading as you rub tight circles into your clit. Molten pleasure drips down your spine, sticking in your lungs and melting against your ribs. The phantasm of Matty’s touch trails over you, his hands replacing yours as you thumb over your nipples, moaning at the soft spark of pleasure that flickers under your skin.

It’s not enough.

Your hands are too delicate, too far from the memory of thick veins and scraping callouses that your body craves. Still, you work diligently at yourself, falling into a familiar rhythm. Your motions are perfunctory now, an aside to the fantasy building behind your closed lids. You picture Matty’s sleazy smirk, heat in his gaze as he rubs at you, working you closer and closer, filthy words pouring from his lips. Pleasure burns under your skin, close and electric under the sheets.

The coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter until it finally snaps, ecstasy rippling through your limbs as you bite down hard to keep a scream at bay. Rolling your hips, you ride out your orgasm, chest heaving as you gasp for breath and twist your fingers in your sheets.

Your face begins to flame as the afterglow wanes, the image of Matty fading and leaving a column of mortification in its place. God, how are you supposed to look him in the eyes after this? Flinging your covers off with a groan, you corral your thoughts into shape and march into the shower. Hot water pounds between your shoulder blades and you scrub at your skin until it’s pink and tender; you still don’t feel clean. It feels, suddenly, like you’re wearing a scarlet letter, like the evidence of your depravity is scrawled over your body in bold, dripping ink.

Still, you can’t stand under the shower spray forever, and the endless slog of summer reading you have to do won’t wait for your sudden crisis to be over. Taking a seat at your desk, you crack open a textbook and force yourself to stare at it until the words stop swimming in front of your eyes and you can process their meaning. You type up notes with practised ease, almost automatic and scarcely retaining the information. A chill grips you as you remember that this might be the rest of your life.

A self-indulgent fantasy drifts across your mind, and you snatch at it greedily, rewarding yourself for your work with an unjustified distraction. Is it so much to ask that you want a life of ease? To be spoiled and showered in affection, to have no expectations on you? Maybe that makes you a lazy brat, a typical, self-absorbed princess, but you’ve worked damn hard the last three years. At graduation, you’d have your pick of droning, selfsame corporations if that was what you wanted; you’d have no difficulty following your father’s footsteps, letting your own daughter trace yours.

Truthfully, your private desire is much harder. Men that run in your circles want a woman like you, superficially — from the same stock, with your own family money, barely old enough to know who you are. Under the surface, though, you know women like that. They’re your aunts, the mothers of friends and old boyfriends. Unfulfilled, wearing dead-eyed Stepfordian smiles, finding their only pinched joy in passing snide insults dressed up as compliments, laughing behind their hands when their victim du jour takes the bait. No, being one of those wives would be the only fate worse than spending your decades as a spinning cog.

Without your notice, the sun has sunk beyond the horizon, a moonbeam slanting through your curtains when you switch your desk lamp off. You slip between your sheets, clad in a thin nightdress and low-waisted underwear, the thoughts that circle your brain winding slower and slower until they slip away like a whirlpool draining from the sink.

The next morning, you really are planning on taking school seriously, in line at a coffee shop with scholarly intent before 9:30. Impossibly, though, a familiar head of curls is waiting in the queue only feet ahead of you. Your heartbeat speeds as you debate whether to speak to him, hands clammy with nerves at the sight of him. You step up to the counter to order, and Matty’s head whips around at the sound of your voice.

“Oh! Hello, love,” he grins, and you smile back, hoping you don’t look as nervous as you feel. “Hey, no, I got it,” he says as you pull out your phone to pay. Matty taps his card before you can even react, then leans forward to address the barista. “Can I get mine for here instead? Is that okay? Thanks,” he flashes a winning smile and your heart flutters.

“Thank you,” you say shyly, toying anxiously with the buttons of your cardigan.

He waves a hand, his smile almost dizzying as he looks down at you. There’s a faint dusting of stubble over his jaw, and you have to force yourself not to get distracted by thoughts of it scraping over your skin. “Don’t worry about it. Always happy to do a pretty girl a favour.” Your knees almost buckle, heat flooding your cheeks as you swallow thickly. Thankfully, the barista calls your orders and Matty goes to collect them, giving you a second to catch your breath. “Is it okay if I come sit with you? Just realised I never asked.” He grins sheepishly, and you practically melt into a puddle. “Don’t wanna distract you if you’ve got work to do, or something.”

“God, no, of course,” you say, suddenly a little panicked at the idea of him leaving. “Feel free. I mean, if you have time,” you add, a last-ditch attempt to feign casualness as you slide into a booth.

Matty sits opposite, observing you with an inscrutable look on his face before he speaks. “I’ve got time. I’m the boss, darling, they can wait.”

Your thighs clench, the casual reminder of his status sending a shudder up your spine as you smile blithely. Neither of you speaks for a moment, both taking in the sight of each other, testing the boundaries of this thing blooming between you. “Do you make a habit of taking time out of your busy day to have coffee with girls?” you say, tone teasing to conceal that you’re truly curious about the answer.

He grins. “Like I said, I do whatever I like,” he says with a shrug. “If I wanted to, I don’t know, spend my morning having coffee with a pretty girl, well. Nobody would be surprised, let’s say.” It’s a non-answer, and you swallow down the jealousy that starts to rise in your throat.

“You keep calling me pretty…” you remark idly, pausing to sip delicately at your coffee before you speak. “I’m starting to think you might have an ulterior motive, Mr. Healy.” You tack on the title with a smirk, leaning forward in challenge.

Matty swallows, slightly unnerved for the first time. “I think you’re pretty,” he says simply. “Don’t have to have any motives. Unless you want me to,” he adds with a smirk.

“And if I do? What’s that say about you, sir? Chasing after a twenty-year-old girl? Quite inappropriate, wouldn’t you say?”

He chuckles softly, eyes darkening. A shock of heat sparks under your skin as he takes your hand, gaze searching. “Very,” Matty agrees lowly. “Good, sweet young girl like you shouldn’t be getting mixed up with me, angel.” Something in you flutters at the nickname, the way it rolls thoughtlessly off his tongue.

“I don’t have to be good,” you say, deliberately widening your eyes and biting your lip in a show of innocence. “I can be naughty. If you want.” You lean back and deliberately pop a button on your blouse, a hint of pink lace peeking out from the gap in your shirt.

Matty tips his head back, nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply, eyes closed and trying to compose himself. “What am I going to do with you?” he mutters, more to himself, unable to drag his gaze up from the sliver of exposed skin.

“You’ll just have to keep playing and find out,” you smirk, purposefully leaning forward as you stand to give him a deliberate eyeful. “Have a nice day, Mr. Healy. Thank you for the coffee.” His gaze burns hot into your back as you walk away, and you make a conscious effort not to look back. You’re slightly annoyed as you wander down the street — that cafe is your favourite study spot, and you’ve effectively handed it away. You’ll never be able to set foot in there without remembering Matty’s smirk, his heavy gaze, the feeling of his hand over yours.

So, despite your best intentions, you find yourself spending the morning dipping in and out of stores instead, smiling blithely as your bank account dwindles. In the end, your evening winds up the same as yesterday, mindlessly copying up text without absorbing any of the information. You’re gonna kick yourself so hard when you have to use these notes to take an exam. Giving up, you shower and get into bed, shutting your phone off to sleep at around midnight.

When you stir, you know acutely that you’re dreaming. The bed is your own, the man sharing it is not. “Morning,” Matty says, in a low, sleep-thick voice that seems so real you can scarcely believe your mind conjured it up. He kisses your nose, your cheek, the hollow of your throat, but never your lips, as if your subconscious is saving the memory for the real thing.

“Hi,” you giggle, savouring the heat of his body against yours, willing yourself still for fear of the barest shift ruining your dreamscape. Matty’s hands run over you, one taking a firm hold of your ass, the other pinching gently at your nipple.

You whimper, and he gives a mocking pout. “Needy, hm?” You nod, eyes wide and pleading, and he cups your pussy, your hips rolling as you chase your pleasure against his hand. Arousal drips out of you, soaking your panties as Matty grinds the heel of his palm against your clit. Your head swims in pleasure, distracted and flailing as the dream blurs around you. Whining, you try desperately to grasp onto the vestiges, convinced that one last touch would have brought you there.

Eyes twitching open, morning light slants through the crack in your curtains, a gentle kiss over your sweat-slick skin. Embarrassingly, like you’re a hormonal adolescent again, there’s a throw pillow wedged between your legs, desire soaking into it through your ruined panties. An experimental thrust of your hips sends a scattered, delicious burst of pleasure up your spine, but you refuse to indulge yourself, already humiliated without feeling that sudden, crushing guilt again.

Once again, you force yourself under a punishingly hot shower, and once again, you can’t scrub yourself free of the sin. It becomes something of a routine; three more nights you dream of him, and three more mornings you try your hardest to melt the flesh off your bones in an effort to forget. The fourth night, the day before you’ll see him again, your sleep is mercifully dreamless, though you still wake with him on your mind. You stand in front of your wardrobe, hands balanced on your hips as your gaze darts between two dresses.

You need to be stunning, fuckable in a way that caters to Matty’s tastes perfectly. The amount of time you’ve spent scrolling through pictures of him with old girlfriends would surely be impressive if it wasn’t embarrassing, but it’s helped you narrow your choices down to two options. There’s a wine-red number, the thigh slit so high it practically bares your ass and the neckline plunging almost to indecency — it’s reminiscent of how his last girlfriend dressed, simple, dark elegance, deep hues paired with bold, striking makeup. Then, there’s a floor-length, pastel-pink silk gown, evidence of the virtue you’ll pretend to possess until you can show him just how dirty you can be.

The second dress speaks to you, more similar both to your own style and that of the youngest girl he’s ever dated. She was still older than you, though, you think wryly, four years ago twenty-three to his thirty. That being said, you wouldn’t be surprised to find he’d fucked every college girl from here to Edinburgh whose father had so much looked at her askance once. The thought sends a ripple of jealousy through you and you shudder, picturing dozens of faceless girls under him until you want to tear your hair out. The man practically has you in a chokehold, and you’ve met him once.

Your rational brain knows it’s crazy, that the idealised version of him built up in your mind means he’ll only disappoint, but you’re almost sure you’ll get a good fuck out of it at the very least. More, if you play your cards well enough.

With ribbons in your hair, silk gloves over your hands and a string of pearls at your throat, you pose in the mirror, practising your teasing pout, your innocent smile, the eyes that say please, sir, let me make you feel good. Your mother shouts your name, and you follow the sound down the stairs and across the foyer, smiling blithely at your parents as they take in the sight of you.

Okay, maybe you’ve laid on the innocence too thick, your makeup subtly widening your eyes and faintly flushing your cheeks. But there’s nothing technically wrong with your outfit, so your mother simply heaves a sigh and leads you out to the car. You arrive perfectly, politely on time, pose quickly for the few cameras and take your seats. Wait staff linger discreetly around, filling champagne flutes thanklessly, as if they exist on a plane below the guests’ notice.

You have to bite back a grin when the placard beside the empty seat at your table reads Matthew Healy; by some magnanimous twist of fate, he’ll be directly across from you, giving you an excuse to gaze at him as long as you like. He’s late, but only fashionably so, smirking and doling out insincere apologies as he saunters to the table. You don’t stand until everyone else has, playing clueless as Matty greets everyone around the table politely.

When he reaches you, his eyes flicker over you in a way that has your knees threatening to buckle, and you finally let yourself take him in properly. He looks fucking gorgeous, dressed in another expensive suit, his curls gelled back with that same smell of cigarettes and cologne seeping from his pores. He leans forward, brushing his lips against the apple of your cheek, and you almost moan at the contact your body has been craving for days. “You look stunning, darling,” he murmurs, so quiet that you could almost be convinced you’d imagined it, if not for the dark look in his eyes when he pulls back.

A half smile pulls at your lips as he sits down, one of the ubiquitous, black-clad waiters coming forward to fill his glass. The conversation quickly turns to business you couldn’t care less about, giving the automated, reflex responses to questions you’ve heard hundreds of times. You pay attention only when Matty speaks, the low timbre of his voice addictive even when he’s not addressing you. Emboldened by his heavy gaze and the significant looks he fixes you with each time his eyes land on yours, you slip a stockinged foot out of your shoe and trace it across his calf. His eyes widen a fraction, and he raises his glass and an eyebrow in your direction, his gaze laden with promise.

There’s still time before any food gets brought out, and after a few minutes, Matty offers to take you on a spin, introduce you to some of the more important people in suits that are clustered around the room. Your father preens, convinced you’ve made such an impression in the bare moments you’ve held your own in conversation that he wants to mentor you, or something. You accept gratefully, his proprietary hold on your arm falling low to your waist as soon as you’re out of your father’s sight, the heat of his palm splayed over your hip hard to believe. “Let me get you a drink,” he says, steering you to the bar. The crowd parts around him, conversations going quiet like he’s some kind of divine figure, taking a nod and a brief greeting like a blessing from on high. “You’ll need one to deal with this lot,” he adds, jerking a thumb at the gathered crowd, still murmuring awed in his wake.

Smiling, you take a seat at the bar, letting Matty flag down the bartender before you speak. “What’ll you have, darling?”

“Surprise me,” you grin, batting your eyelashes teasingly at him. “So, you hate this stuff, huh?”

Matty huffs a surprised laugh as the bartender pours him a glass of top-shelf red and hands you an Aperol spritz. “Is it that obvious?”

You take a long, slow sip of your drink, watching the way his eyes fall to your lips, pursed around the straw. “I don’t think so. Not to anyone here, anyway. They’re all too worried about what everyone else thinks of them to worry about what anyone else is thinking.”

Something shifts in his expression as he takes in your words, suddenly appraising you critically as a person with thoughts, rather than just a pretty face he wants to take to bed. And he does. Want to take you to bed, that is. His eyes are wide, dilated, his tongue unconsciously wetting his lips more often, his gaze trained on your face so it doesn’t fall further. “Beautiful and smart,” he says finally, leaning back in his chair, all at once dropping the intensity and sinking easily back into irreverence.

“I try,” you say with an artfully careless shrug, letting one of the thin straps of your dress fall from your shoulder, enjoying the way Matty’s eyes trace the movement. There’s a dance in this, a skill; overt flirting between the pair of you, a casual, if laden, conversation to an observer.

“I want to do bad things to you in that dress,” Matty says, low and sudden, a bolt of arousal striking you at your core.

You match his tone. “Like what?”

“The kind of things a man like me shouldn’t be thinking about doing to a girl like you.”

“So, why don’t you?” you challenge, a flicker of carefully masked surprise crossing his face as you drop your facade of naïveté. “There’s always somewhere private at a party like this,” you say, implication heavy in your tone, spreading your legs slightly and licking your lips.

A muscle jumps in Matty’s jaw, jealousy and lust warring in his expression as he pictures you crowded up against a bathroom sink, mouth parted and eyes glassy. “S’that what you’re used to? A quick fuck in a bathroom with some pathetic boy?” He leans close, delivering his next words slow and quiet. “I’m not going to do that, princess,” he says with a disparaging scoff, the sobriquet sending heat pooling between your legs. “Have you ever fucked a man, angel?”

Swallowing your moan, your thighs clench as you whisper, “No.”

“Good. Means I get to show you how it should really feel. Because when I fuck you for the first time, I’m going to make you fall apart for me. Piece by pretty, perfect piece. Shall we?” he adds, standing and offering you a hand without giving you any time to process his words.

You swallow thickly, accepting his hand and standing on unsteady legs. True to his word, he introduces you to what feels like an endless string of people. Their faces all blur together, your body working on autopilot to churn out pleasantries as your mind turns over Matty’s words, spinning them over and over like a coin set on its edge.

“Stay right here,” you whisper to him as he starts to head back to your table, and you’re pleased to find when you return from the bathroom that he’s obeyed. As discreetly as possible, you press the scrap of lace you peeled off from under your dress into his hand. The sound of his choked-off inhale is infinitely gratifying, and you savour his gaze at your back as you stride away, a deliberate sway in your hips.

By the time you’re back at the table, a thick wedge of business cards is tucked neatly into your purse to be left there and forgotten about until you shake them onto the floor the next time you need the bag. All but the one sitting on the very top, with Matty’s personal number scrawled on the back. He doesn’t take his eyes off you all through dinner, his hand dipping into his pocket at every free moment, the knowledge that his fingers are running over your panties driving you wild. Your legs cross so you don’t start dripping on the seat as you throw pleading glances at Matty every chance you get.

You practically chase him to the bar as dinner winds down, draping yourself over him as much as you dare. “I need you,” you whine, pressing a hand to his inner thigh, feeling the heat of him through his suit trousers. “I can’t wait anymore,” you plead, as close to begging as you can get without prostrating yourself on the floor in front of him.

Matty laughs, condescending. “Needy girl,” he pouts, crooking a finger under your chin. “If you were anyone else, I’d take you home right now, fuck all of these people. But we can’t have that, can we?” he teases. “Because you’re a good girl, yeah? And what would people think, good girl like you all spread out for a dirty old man like me?”

A pathetic whine slips from your lips, lust overtaking you even as the gears start to turn in your mind. “Take me home,” you beg, pulse hammering in your throat at the very prospect. “I can make an excuse, say I’m meeting friends or something. I’m a big girl, they won’t care as long as they don’t know where I actually am. Please?” you pout, leaning so close that your breath kisses across his lips. “I’ll be so good for you, I promise.”

And Matty is only a man, with a man’s self-control. He’s had a few more years to refine it, but he’ll never be immune. “Go on, then, sweetheart. Make your excuses and meet me out front, yeah?” He gives your ass a firm slap as you stand, the brief flash of pain melting into sticky desire that hums under your skin.

You spin a lie to your parents, some story that your friends are in a bar a few streets away, and surely they don’t mind if you slip away just a few minutes early? Honestly, they’re ecstatic you stayed as long as you did, waving you off with unsuspecting smiles. Then, before you know it, you’re in a taxi with Matty, your thigh pressed against his, one of his hands tracing a pattern into your skin. You crowd closer to him, struggling to breathe as lust swallows all the air between you.

He stays teasingly out of your reach, tutting softly when you chase his lips. “You promised to be good for me, princess,” he admonishes, trailing his hand further up your thigh. You obey, squirming as you fall back into your seat, his fingers cruelly close to where you need them. “Good girl. You want me to touch you?” Matty murmurs, leaning in to breathe the words against the shell of your ear, a shudder rolling up your spine at his closeness. You nod, bating your breath as his fingers find the wetness between your legs. “Nice and still for me, yeah, darling?”

Pleasure floods you when the pad of his finger finds your clit, the gentle scrape over your sensitive nerves somehow blinding, your hips rolling as you chase the sensation. “Matty, please,” you moan, pouting pathetically when he takes his hand away.

“You’re not being very good, love. Still, remember? You can sit and keep your hands to yourself until we get home, understand?” You nod, sinking back in your seat and sulking. “Don’t be a brat, princess,” Matty chides, closing his lips around his wet fingers, sucking your arousal off them with an exaggerated moan. “Just a few more minutes and I’ll give you what you need, yeah? Sweet, needy girl.”

You flush at the praise, at the way he can switch from gentle to commanding and back in a second. Your blood is thick with desire, heart working in overdrive to pump it through your body. Then, with no ceremony, the end of the most agonising minutes of your life is signalled by the crunching of gravel under tyres. Matty leads you into the house, his control on a tight leash until the door clicks shut behind you.

He all but slams you against it, crowding into your space, his breath hot on your lips. His smell of cigarettes and cologne envelops you, fills your lungs, dizzying and intoxicating. “Please?” you whine, and he finally, gloriously obliges. Your lips crash together, a messy slide of spit and teeth and tongue that leaves you bruised and begging.

Matty’s hands fall to your ass, squeezing hard at the soft flesh, pliant under his touch as his nails bite crescent-moons of desire into your skin. “Can you jump for me, baby?” he asks, breaking away from you just long enough to breathe the words against your lips. Your legs wrap instinctively around his waist, your dress hiked up so far that it bares your cunt as Matty grips you by the thighs.

Pleasure spreads slowly through you as you grind yourself against him, his lips falling to your neck as he carries you up the stairs, a squeal escaping you as he tosses you on the bed. He stands at the foot of the bed, breathing hard, greedily drinking in the sight of you. “Take that dress off. Now.” His tone leaves no room for argument, practically puppeteering you, expensive silk crumpled on the floor before you can even react. “Gorgeous,” Matty murmurs, one hand coming up to unbutton his shirt. “Can you touch yourself for me? Wanna see how to make you feel good.”

“Uh-huh,” you murmur, eyes fixed on the inches of skin being revealed, a covering dragged off a masterpiece. Dark ink peeks from the V of his shirt, dissonant from the toned, marble skin surrounding it. Impatient, you dip two fingers into yourself, the familiar stretch sending heat shooting up your spine. Gasping, you pinch at your clit, rolling it between two fingers, hips rocking as you moan wantonly up at him.

“Good girl. Does that feel good, princess?”

“Not as good as you,” you pout, fucking yourself desperately on your fingers. “Daddy,” you add, watching that final thread break, Matty’s eyes going dark as he collapses on the bed above you. He kicks off his trousers ungracefully, tugging your hand up to his lips.

His warm mouth closes around your fingers, sucking the taste of your desire off them with a moan. “Such a dirty little girl, dressed up all innocent like that when you just wanna be ruined by your fuckin’ Daddy.” His clothed cock grinds against your aching, soaked core, the contact achingly close to what you need, and yet agonisingly far. “You taste so good, angel. Want me to eat that sweet little pussy of yours?”

Your mind swims at the thought, his skilled, clever tongue buried between your legs, your hands tight in his curls as he devours you. But that isn’t what you need. You shake your head. “Want you to fuck me,” you say, the simmering well of desire endless in the pit of your stomach. “I need it. Please?”

“Oh, sweet girl,” Matty croons, shoving his boxers down his legs. You watch his cock spring free, thudding hot and sticky against his belly. “You want my fingers first, or can you take me all by yourself?”

The subtle condescension sets you on fire, liquefying your brain and sending it flooding down your spine, dripping out of you onto the mattress. You reach down, wrap your hand around him and pump slowly, swallowing his quiet hiss against your mouth. “I can take it, Daddy,” you promise, wide, innocent eyes turned on him.

The stretch when he enters you burns gloriously, your mouth falling open in a perfect, round ‘O’ of ecstasy. Matty fills you slowly, burying himself to the hilt, so deep that you can practically feel him rearranging your insides. “Such a good girl, takin’ all of me like this,” he praises. Discomposed, his accent thickens, rounding the vowels and blurring the ends of his words. Matty rocks his hips one shallow thrust striking a spot inside you that has your vision whiting out, ecstasy buzzing in your heavy limbs. “That felt good, huh? Yeah. I know, I know,” he soothes, swallowing your whines with wet, deliberate kisses, tongue sweeping every corner of your mouth and teeth grazing your lips.

Matty pulls almost all the way out of you, your body crying out at the loss, then slams his hips against yours so hard you see stars. “M-Matty, fuck,” you whimper, back arching desperately as he fucks you into the mattress, hard and fast, the obscene sound of skin meeting ringing out around you.

“Ah-ah. That’s not my name tonight, princess.”

His hips still, the waves of pleasure subsiding in punishment. “‘M sorry, Daddy,” you whine, bringing your hand down to rub at your clit, bright heat bursting between your legs.

“That’s it, angel,” Matty murmurs, pinching softly at your nipple with one calloused hand. “So beautiful all fucked out for me. I’m the only one who can get you like this, huh?”

Subtle jealousy hums in his tone, his kiss turning possessive as you writhe under him. “Yeah,” you whimper breathily. “Never had it this good before.” It’s not a lie. Your body feels at once wound into a coil and loose on your bones, the point where your hips meet your only anchor to your physical form.

Matty scoffs. “That’s because you’ve only fucked boys, princess. Never had a man before, have you?”

“N-no, Daddy,” you whine, rubbing frantically at your clit, Matty’s rhythmic groans warm against your lips.

His lips fall to your neck, kissing and biting against your tender skin, the scrape of teeth a flash of pain undercutting your desire but gentle enough not to bruise. “That’s right, baby. ‘M your fuckin’ Daddy. Wanna be my girl, huh? Could have you like this whenever you want, never let you worry about anything, ‘cept staying all pretty and cockdrunk for me.”

Oh, God. How does he know? Involuntarily, your legs wrap around his waist, the new angle rapturous as his thrusts continue, long and so deep you practically choke on them. “Mm-hmm. Yeah. Could just be your little toy, never think unless you told me to. Want that so bad, Daddy.”

Matty’s eyes light up, wide and liquid with desire, your heartbeat hammering in your cunt as it throbs around him. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs. “Sweet girl. You wanna be my dumb little slut, huh? Want Daddy to fuck you stupid, turn you into my pretty fucktoy?” The words turn you to liquid, dripping and sticky under his skilled hands. “Yeah, you do,” he grins, arrogant and cocksure, your mind melting into fantasies of being Matty’s kept girl, of bending over with a smile whenever he liked, of spending your days keeping yourself pretty for him, and your nights split open like this. “I can feel how bad you want that, your pretty cunt keeps squeezing me so fuckin’ tight, angel.”

“‘M close,” you whimper, the words choked from your closing throat, desire clamping down on your body like a vice.

“Good girl,” Matty whispers, one of his hands joining yours at your clit, the pressure suddenly dramatically intense, every nerve in your body firing as one. “Cum for me, angel,” he orders, and your body obeys.

You come unglued from yourself, feel it in your whole body, euphoria crushing the air from your lungs. Your cunt pulses, thumping a sick rhythm in tune with Matty’s thrusts into you. Barely conscious, you feel amorphous, a messy string of liquid desire more than a corporeal girl. WIth a final, low groan, Matty spills inside of you, painting your insides white.

A whine escapes you as he pulls out, the loss tangible in your heavy limbs. “Oh, I know, baby, I know,” he soothes, falling beside you and cupping your jaw to kiss you tenderly.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you murmur shakily, and a soft smile brushes at his lips.

“So polite,” he says reverently. “Such a good girl.”

You pout at him and drag two fingers through your slick, messy cunt, sucking the taste of both of you off your fingers. Matty gasps, eyes wide, and you smile around your wet fingers. “You want more, darling?”

You nod frantically, the fire under your skin still raging, ferocious and uncontrollable. Weakly, you lift your head, transfixed to where his cum trickles out of you, pooling white on the mattress. “We taste so good together,” you tell him, without taking your eyes off your ruined core. “Looks so good, your cum dripping out of me. Want you to finger it out of me. Please?” you add, pouting until he kisses you gently, breaking away to smile against your lips.

“Whatever you want, you’ll get, princess.” His fingers find your hole, teasing at you for a moment before toying with your sensitive clit, a stab of pleasure-pain winding sharply through you. “S’that sore, darling?”

“A bit,” you say, your body lax as he plays with you gently. All the urgency is gone now you’ve both come, the air honey-thick, your breathing slow and deliberate. “Feels good, though.”

Matty’s fingers are broad and thick as he pushes two of them inside you, your soaked cunt accepting him easily. He crooks his fingers, brushing that sweet spot that sets your nerves alight, and begins a slow rhythm. Lewd, wet sounds echo off the walls as you both watch his fingers disappear where you take him, cum leaking out around them.

An orgasm builds slowly at the base of your spine, your body jolting as Matty’s thumb comes up to circle over your clit. He swallows your sudden moan, languid kisses that have your eyes fluttering closed and let you fall into a daydream as he brings you closer.

“Mmm, can I cum again? Please?” you moan, hips rolling down to meet him. Pleasure swims hazy through your head, your blood syrup-thick and heavy with it.

“Can you hold it for a minute, baby? For me? Just wanna watch that pretty cunt of yours taking my fingers a little longer.” You whimper as he curls his long fingers inside of you, trembling with the effort of holding your orgasm at bay. “You make such pretty sounds, princess. Tell me who you belong to and I’ll let you cum, okay?”

“‘M yours, Daddy. Your good little girl,” you promise, words coming out slurred, your tongue too thick in your mouth.

“That’s right, baby,” Matty says, encouraging, grasping possessively at your hip. “All mine, yeah? Go on, princess. Cum,” he instructs, curling his fingers against your g-spot and rubbing a harsh circle into your clit in the same, breathless moment.

All the air crushes out of your lungs, white-hot pleasure melting your brain into liquid. Matty croons reassurances as you writhe under him, the thickness of his fingers visceral where you clench around him. You moan his name over and over in a litany, tasting something divine where the word spills from your lips.

You float back down to Earth, blissed-out and smiling, adoration in Matty’s gaze as he watches you. “There you are, sweet girl,” he grins, warm hand stroking gently up and down your side. “How do you feel?”

“God, incredible,” you answer, stretching back and luxuriating against his pillows. “Best fuck I’ve ever had,” you grin, watching his jaw clench at the reminder that you’ve fucked other people.

“Ruined you for other men, have I?” he says, smug smirk pulling at his lips.

“Other boys,” you correct airily. “Men like you know what they’re doing. Maybe you’ve given me a taste for it. Maybe I’ll fuck my way through the office, get all those men you see every day eating out of my hand.”

Matty practically snarls, silencing you with a harsh kiss. “Those fucking pricks couldn’t make you cum if their lives depended on it. Believe me, darling, I’m the best you’ll ever have,” he promises, and you give a quiet giggle. Your eyes are heavy even as electricity still buzzes under your skin, and you yawn, catlike, and settle against his bare chest. “Tired, angel?” he says, a hint of humour in his tone.

“Right shattered me, haven’t you?” you complain, swatting playfully at him. “Can I stay?”

“‘Course, darling. Long as you like,” Matty says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Want me to make you something to eat? Can’t have my girl going hungry after I’ve worn her out like that.” The casualness with which he flings the words my girl sends your heart racing, one of his hands coming up to cup your jaw then trailing up to play with your hair. It’s all so sickeningly domestic, more intimate than when he had you split open and dizzy under him.

“Sounds nice,” you say sleepily, but whine when he moves to get up.

You pout when Matty tugs on his discarded boxers, and he chuckles softly. “What?” he adds as your frown deepens, watching him pull on a pair of grey joggers.

“Was looking at you,” you say sulkily. “You have a cute ass.”

His head tips back as he laughs, baring the sloping column of his neck gorgeously, his curls bouncing with the movement. “Are you objectifying me?” he grins, mock-affronted.

“Yes,” you say immediately, sitting up and tracing your gaze deliberately over his chest, muscles rippling as he breathes. Your attention falls to the tattoo at his hip, half-hidden by his joggers, and the sudden need to taste the skin there overtakes you. “What else is a big, strong man like you good for? Fucking me right and cooking me dinner, and looking gorgeous doing it,” you tease, sucking in a sharp breath when he crosses the room in two strides and catches your jaw in a harsh grip.

“Don’t be a brat, princess. ‘Cause then I’ll have to show you what I’m fucking good for.”

“Okay,” you breathe against his lips, trailing your hand down his chest and thumbing over the tattoo, savouring the way Matty shudders under your touch.

The air under your hand goes cold as he steps away. “Needy girl,” he grins. “Food first, yeah? You want me to bring it up here? Serve my princess dinner in bed?” There’s that my again, one tiny, thoughtless syllable sending a thousand fantasies flickering behind your eyes. “Or do you wanna come down with me?”

You slip out from under the covers and set your feet on the floor, only for your knees to buckle when you try to stand. “Fucked me so good my legs don’t work,” you say with a weak laugh, smiling softly when Matty comes to fuss over you. “Can you carry me downstairs?”

“Here,” Matty says, handing you a shirt and boxers that are probably too small for him; they dwarf you, the shirt swallowing you while the boxers hang indecently low on your hips. At the sight of you in his clothes, he stops still, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply for a long moment. “Look fucking gorgeous wearing my clothes, darling. C’mere, I can carry you if you want,” he offers, scooping you into his arms.

Nestled happy against his warm, bare chest, you notice for the first time how fucking big his house is. It’s almost brutalist, but still homey, evidently lived-in. Framed photographs and prints litter the walls, slightly wilted flowers sitting in a vase atop a gorgeous upright piano.

“D’you play?” Matty asks, catching you admiring it.

“Since I was a kid. Do you?”

He huffs out a laugh above you. “You think I’d have a fifty grand piano sitting around that I don’t play?”

You shrug as best you can, still wrapped in his arms. “My parents have a baby grand that nobody played until I came along. It’s like a status symbol, or something, I dunno.”

“Yes, I play. The guitar too,” he adds, slowly strolling in the direction of the kitchen.

The realisation dawns on you, and your mouth drops in an ‘O’ of understanding. “So that’s why your hands are like that. I don’t know why I didn’t put that together. You’re hardly the type for hard labour.”

Matty laughs, setting you down on the kitchen counter. “You don’t know,” he teases, pressing a featherlight kiss against your cheek. “I could’ve been a mechanic in a past life.”

The thought of him, sweaty and dripping in grease, bending you over the hood of a car, makes your head spin, and he smirks as your jaw goes slack. “I wish,” you grin as he retrieves a pan from an upper cabinet, flexing the muscles in his back gratuitously with the movement. ement.

“What are you feeling like? Eggs? Pasta?” he offers, setting the pan on the stove.

You mull it over for a moment. “Can you make me French toast?”

“‘Course I can, baby.” You watch his hands as he cracks two eggs in a bowl, whisking them together with cinnamon and sugar. He steps between your legs as the bread sizzles in the pan with a healthy spoonful of melted butter, kissing at your neck and jaw. In the light, the fading hickeys scattered over your skin are visible, and he prods jealously at them. “Who gave you these?” he says, gravel in his voice.

Shrugging airily, you smirk up at him. “Some boy,” you tease, Matty’s nostrils flaring as he fights to control his reaction.

“Did he make you cum?” he asks, nails biting possessively into your hips.

“We didn’t get that far. Just made out on the couch. He was a good kisser, though.” At that, Matty captures your lips, kissing you slow and deep, the lingering taste of red wine filling your mouth. The kiss is hard, almost aggressive, like he’s trying to forcibly erase the memory of any kiss you’ve ever had. He bites gently at your lower lip as he pulls away, not hard enough to sting, but enough for you to read the message in the action. “Careful. Don’t burn my toast.”

A mumbled fuck makes you giggle, and he turns to flip the bread in the pan. “Don’t worry, angel. Still perfect.” He watches you as he speaks, wide brown eyes liquid and luminous, framed by delicate lashes.

Still, if he gets to be jealous, so do you. “Do you make midnight snacks for all the girls?” you ask, swinging your legs back and forth off the counter.

“Can’t say I do, darling.”

The implication of his words thuds hard in your chest, a warm flicker of hope striking to life like a match under your skin. “What’s so special about me?”

“Good girl like you deserves the princess treatment. ‘Specially from a dirty old man like me,” he grins, sliding your toast onto a plate. The sudden reminder of your age gap, of the scandal you’d cause if even a whisper of this got out, sends a shuddering thrill up your spine. Matty hands you the plate, topped with icing sugar and drizzled with syrup, and you tuck in eagerly.

He picks up a pack of cigarettes from the counter, eyebrows going up when you go to reach for one. “What? I’m not always a good girl.”

“Oh, I know, love,” Matty smirks, lit cigarette dangling indecently from his lips. “Can’t have you ruining your pretty lungs, though. Here,” he says, pulling deeply on the cigarette and then pressing his open mouth to yours. Grey smoke curls from your parted lips as you suck in the smoke greedily. He shotguns you half the cigarette, your head light as the nicotine buzz hits.

You drink in the sight of him as you eat, taking advantage of the light to appreciate the finer details of him. The gentle glow of the cigarette where it sits between his plush, pink lips, the joggers obscenely low on his hips, the V of muscle that points tantalisingly down, a light trail of hair disappearing into his waistband.

“You wanna go back to bed, angel?” Matty smirks, the air between you shifting as he meets your gaze, eyes darkened.

You scoff. “Bed’s boring. You have this whole fucking house, and you wanna take me back to bed?”

Matty crowds close to you, stealing a kiss and dropping to his knees. “Alright, princess.” His fingers dig into your hips as he eases his boxers off you, dipping his head to kiss at your bare thighs. A filthy smirk spreads wide across his lips as he looks up at you. “You’ve eaten. Now it’s my turn,” he promises, and your giggle turns to a moan when his tongue meets your centre.

He devours you like he’s been starved, lapping at your still-soaked cunt in a toe-curling rhythm. A sudden flash of pleasure-pain strikes sharply where his teeth scrape at the tender flesh of your thigh, sucking and biting hard enough to bruise. A quiet moan tumbles from your lips, and you squeeze your thighs around his head to urge him back to your cunt. Obediently, he wraps his lips around your clit, the pressure at your sensitive bundle of nerves making your head spin. “C’mon, princess. You make such pretty sounds, I know you can be louder than that.”

Matty sets a dizzying pace, tongue-fucking you with fervour. Burying your hands in his hair, you shift so you can rest your legs over his shoulders, the new angle letting him drive his tongue even deeper inside you. Heat roils in your belly, winding around your organs, entangling sweetly with your veins. “Fuck,” you whimper, rolling your hips against his face wantonly. “Feels s’good, Daddy,” you moan out, gasping as Matty curls his tongue perfectly inside you, white-hot pleasure buzzing up your spine.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs and tilts his head up to look at you, his lips and chin practically dripping with your slick. He sucks another bruise into your sensitive skin, kissing over the mark apologetically. Your skin is on fire, tension pulling tight in all your limbs at once. “Taste so fucking good,” he moans, kissing softly at your cunt, his laugh ghosting over your skin as you flutter needily in response. “Could spend the rest of my fuckin’ life between these pretty thighs, darling.”

Your head is hazy, barely coherent thoughts drifting in and out, an incomprehensible plea falling from your lips. Matty won’t let you get complacent with a rhythm, switching between broad, flat strokes over your cunt, deep thrusts into you and sucking on your clit so fast it deliriates you. “‘M close,” you whine, tugging hard on his curls as ecstasy builds at the base of your spine. “Wanna cum for you,” you add, a hint of begging in your tone.

“Say please, darling.” The words vibrate gloriously in your cunt, a shock of pleasure rolling over you.

“Please, Daddy, I wanna cum. Need it so bad,” you plead, whimpering when he scrapes his teeth over your clit, fighting to hold your orgasm at bay until he gives you permission.

“Go on, princess. Cum for Daddy, yeah?” The words are all you need, a string of obscenities interspersed with breathless moans of his name tumbling from your lips as pure euphoria overtakes you. Hot pleasure cascades over you, racing down your spine and along every nerve in your body. You writhe against Matty’s mouth, half-convinced you’ve left your body behind, made of pure sensation.

Boneless, you slump backward, sure you could fall asleep on the cool granite of Matty’s kitchen counter. He catches you, steadying, and gathers you back into his arms. “Thank you, Daddy,” you smile up at him, curling into his chest.

The thump of his heartbeat is soothing as he picks you up again. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs fondly. “Now do you want me to take you back to bed?” he adds, grinning teasingly. He carries you back to his room, laying you softly against the pillows and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Just need you awake for a few more minutes, sweetheart. Need to get you cleaned up, then you can sleep, yeah?” He’s so tender, speaking softly and petting your hair for a moment before he fetches a damp cloth. Running it softly over you, he makes soothing sounds at your pained whimpers. “I know, baby, I know. ‘M sorry. Just a little more, okay?”

You’re half-asleep by the time Matty climbs into bed with you, sweeping your hair off the back of your neck and kissing softly at the skin there. An arm drapes over your waist, the pressure warm and soothing. “I wanna be your girl,” you mumble, more than half-asleep, barely conscious of the words as they slip unbidden from your lips. You’re unconscious before you hear his reply.

You’re sore in the morning, momentarily disoriented by the weight of a body in bed with you, before last night comes flooding back and you smile to yourself. “Morning, princess,” Matty murmurs, voice low and sleep-thick in your ear.

“Good morning,” you smile, stretching out your muscles and arching your back. Matty hisses as your ass meets his hips, his hardness pressing against you. “Oh, very good morning, hm?” Turning to face him, you reach down, slipping your hand under his waistband to palm his cock. He twitches under your touch, a sleepy moan falling from his lips as he rolls his hips into your hand. “Wanna suck your cock,” you murmur, his reaction visceral in your palm.

“Such a sweet girl,” he says, sliding his boxers off as you climb over him. You kiss his neck, the hollow of his throat, working your way down his chest. Indulgently, you bite a bruise into his chest, a twin to the ones that litter your thighs. You trace your tongue over the tattoo at his hip, his body shuddering at the sensation. His cock twitches against your lips as you press a kiss to the head, the taste of salt filling your mouth when you lick your lips.

You mouth at him teasingly for a moment, needy whines filling the air above you. Having power over him this time is intoxicating, and you hold his hips down as he tries to thrust into your mouth. “Not so fast,” you grin. “Keep still and hands to yourself, remember?” Matty swears softly as you repeat his words back to him, hands fisting in the sheets.

Teasing him for a few more moments, you kiss at his lower belly, smirking as he trembles under your lips, cock drooling. The moan Matty lets out when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock is obscene, low and keening, and you dip your head to take him in deeper. “That’s it,” he murmurs, threading a hand gently in your hair. “C’mon, sweet girl, just a little further. I know you can take it, angel.” The encouragement sends a shudder through you, liquid pleasure pooling between your thighs.

Obediently, you relax your throat, sinking further until your nose meets his skin. “Good girl,” Matty says. “Good fucking girl, takin’ me so well. So fuckin’ pretty all stretched out around my cock.” Saliva pools under your tongue, dripping helplessly from the corners of your mouth. “Fuck,” he groans, thrusting gently into your mouth. “Such a pretty slut, fuckin’ drooling on my cock.”

You pull off him, a string of saliva connecting your skin for a split-second. “‘M your slut, Daddy. Can go harder, if you want,” you say, wrapping your hand around his cock, spit-soaked and dripping, and pump slowly. You lave at him for a moment, licking messy stripes over his cock before taking him all the way in one motion.

Matty groans, bucking his hips. “You want me to fuck your pretty mouth, huh, angel?” His hand tightens in your hair as he thrusts into your mouth, the stretch in the corners of your mouth gorgeous.

“You can do better than that,” you murmur. “Want it hard. I won’t break. Unless you want me to,” you add with a grin, moaning around his cock as you swallow him back down. Finally, gloriously, Matty fucks into your mouth, sets a deep, punishing pace. He pulls you by your hair, the sting in your scalp divine as he uses you; you let yourself slip out of your body, sinking into the warm, fuzzy feeling of being his toy.

“That’s right, baby. Fucking made to take my cock, yeah? Good little girl just wants to be Daddy’s cocksleeve.” The filthy words wash over you, thighs clenching as arousal thrums low in your belly. Wetness pools between your legs and you slip a hand down your body to rub at your clit. The soft spark of pleasure grants you the briefest relief, and you moan around his cock. He’s losing control, the movement of his hips turning sloppy as your throat burns raw. “Fuck,” Matty hisses. “Gonna cum, angel.”

“You wanna cum in my mouth?” He nods, transfixed by your flushed skin and spit-slick lips. “Say please, Daddy.”

He moans, long and low, as you take him back in your mouth, swallowing around him. “C’mon, princess, I wanna cum in that pretty mouth of yours. Fuck, I need it.” He fucks your throat wildly, heat firing through your body, sensation cascading over you. “Please?” The word sounds delicious falling from his lips, sliding sweetly across your brain as you moan around him. With a final groan, he spills in your mouth, a cry of your name tearing from his throat. His cock pulses in your throat, the salt of him filling your mouth as you swallow obediently. “That’s it, take it all. Such a good little cumdump for me, princess.”

You pull off him, sitting back on your heels with a grin. “Did I do good?” you ask, pouting down at him.

You’re only teasing, but when Matty meets your gaze, chest heaving and eyes lidded, and murmurs, “So good, princess.” A gush of heat floods between your sticking thighs. “Where’d my good girl learn to suck cock like that?”

Falling back onto his chest, you give him a wicked smirk. “I told you already, Daddy.” You shift your hips, grinding your soaked cunt against his cock and whining at the soft buzz of pleasure that lights under your skin. “I’m not always a good girl.”

He groans, rolling his hips against yours. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, baby.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to the tattoo in the centre of his chest. “The elderly and their weak hearts,” you scoff, hissing when he pinches the flesh of your ass.

“Oi. Be nice.” Rolling your eyes dramatically, you mime zipping your lips. His fingers wander between your legs, anticipation thrilling under your skin as he finds your clit, the rough pad of his finger scraping against your sensitive nerves. “So wet, princess. Does being my little cocksleeve turn you on, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you murmur. “Feel a bit gross right now, though. I wanna shower first.” Matty grins, a vision of you naked and dripping wet from the shower playing out so clearly on his face that you can practically see it reflected in his eyes.

You hop up on the bathroom counter as Matty runs the shower, rinsing your mouth out with mouthwash and leaning over the sink to spit it out. Matty does the same, then steps between your legs, and you cross them instinctively behind his back. He catches your lips, mint taste mingling in your breaths as you kiss open-mouthed, hot and messy. Distracted, you lose yourself in the kiss, forgetting why you’re in the bathroom at all until the air is thick and cloying with steam.

Matty breaks away from you and helps you to your feet, tugging his shirt up over your head and discarding it to the floor. He can’t resist a greedy handful of your tit, gazing down to where the flesh spills over his fingers. “Pretty girl,” he murmurs, walking you backwards until you’re stepping into the shower.

You pull him under the spray, curls sticking to his forehead as the water soaks him. His hands trail over your body, grasping at your wet flesh as you press yourself needily against him. His cock is hard against your belly, heat pooling in your core as he pulls you in for a wet kiss. Matty grips your thighs, your head spinning as his tongue sweeps your mouth. “Jump up for me, sweet girl,” he says against your lips. “I’ll catch you, don’t worry.” Something in your chest catches as he smiles earnestly down at you, and you force it down before it bubbles out of control and something incriminating slips from your lips.

Obediently, you jump up, your legs tangling around Matty’s waist as he crowds you against the shower tile, his nails biting at your thighs where he holds you in place. You moan against his mouth as you grind your hips down against his stomach, a soft buzz of pleasure growing where your skin meets his. “Daddy, please. Want your cock,” you whine, steam curling around your bodies as you grasp weakly at his wet skin.

He laughs softly against your lips, angling your hips carefully as he lines up his cock. Torturously slow, he lowers you down, pleasure rolling hot under your skin from the point where his hips meet yours. Your cunt throbs, stretched wide around him as Matty moans against your neck. “God, this fucking cunt drives me crazy. Made for this,” he groans as he bottoms out, hips flush under the warm spray of the shower.

“C’mon,” you whimper, clenching your cunt around him and rolling your hips. “Fuck me. I need it,” you beg, scraping your nails down his back.

His cock twitches inside you, the barest flicker of sensation sending a pulse of heat thrumming under your skin. “Needy girl,” he says, clicking his tongue condescendingly.

“Please, Daddy,” you moan, writhing in his arms, the plea on your lips breaking into a whine as he pushes into you agonisingly slow. Your head thuds back against the tile as your eyes slip closed, hot pleasure coiling between your legs as you clench your cunt around him.

Matty groans as he bottoms out, your legs locked around his waist as you pant into his mouth. “God, takin’ me so well, princess. Look so beautiful while I’m fucking you like this, fuck,” he praises, his words sending heat rushing to your cheeks. His head falls to suck and bite at the flesh of your tits, pain blooming into bliss under your skin as he fucks into you slowly.

You moan desperately, scrambling for purchase against his wet skin. “More, harder, please,” you whimper, rocking your hips as arousal pools in your cunt and drips out over him. He laughs darkly, and you shudder slightly, wondering what you’ve let yourself in for.

“Harder, huh?” he murmurs into your neck. “Whatever you want, princess.” It’s the only warning you get before he lifts you and slams you down on his cock, your hips meeting hard as he strikes deep inside you. He fucks you wildly, the slick heat of his body pinning you to the wall as he mouths at your neck, his breath hot on your skin. Incoherent moans fall from your lips, your head hazy and distant, pleasure welling hot under your skin.

His lips come up to cover yours, swallowing your wanton moans greedily, the faint taste of mint on his tongue as he licks into your mouth. “God, such a good girl,” he murmurs. “Wish you could see yourself, baby. Such a pretty little cocksleeve for me.” Arousal drips between your legs, mingling with the water soaking you, your cunt throbbing at his words. “You like that, princess?” he asks with a soft laugh, subtle derision cascading down your spine. “Little slut. Wanna be Daddy’s pretty toy, yeah?”

You whine, nails digging into his shoulders. His rhythm doesn’t slow, your grip on sanity slackening with every pulse of heat in your cunt. “‘M yours, Daddy,” you manage to get out around broken moans.

“That’s right, princess.” He’s practically dragging you up and down on him, using you like you really are a toy. “Gonna be a good girl and cum for Daddy, hm?” Your legs tighten around Matty’s waist as one of his hands leaves your hip to play with your clit. The rough scrape of his calloused finger over your sensitive bundle of nerves is too much, and it barely takes another minute before your world shatters.

Your scream echoes off the tile, cunt pulsing as your blood burns with ecstasy. Heat floods every nerve in your body, bone-deep pleasure swelling under your skin, incessant gasps and whines falling from your lips. Matty’s brutal pace never slows, chasing his own pleasure, silencing your whines with his mouth as you squirm against the overstimulation. “‘M almost there, baby. Just a little more, takin’ it so well, princess,” he assures you, rhythm sloppy and faltering as he gets closer. Your name spills from his lips in a groan as he pulses inside you, ropes of cum dripping sticky down your insides.

“Fuck,” you murmur, whining as he pulls out and gingerly setting a leg on the floor, testing whether they can hold your weight. Matty’s hands hover at your waist, ready to catch you if you slip, and you stretch up to press a grateful kiss to his lips.

Matty pulls you fully under the shower, reaching for a bottle of shower gel and soaping his hands. “Feeling good?” he says, cocky smirk playing on his lips.

“Mhmm,” you sigh happily, settling against his chest as he runs his hands slow and tender over your body. In your blissed-out state, you barely notice your next words as they slip from your lips. “Wish it could be like this all the time.”

Matty croons softly, brushing a thumb over your nipple and kneading at your tit. “Wanna be my sweet girl forever, hm? I’d love that, princess,” he murmurs, the fantasy rooting in your mind despite how obscenely ridiculous the idea is — you’ve barely known him a week, for Christ’s sake. Something about him makes you feel safe, though, secure. Like you’ve known him for years — although, maybe not, given the circumstances. A moan slips from your lips when Matty digs his thumbs into your back, working the tension free from under your skin as your eyes slip happily closed. He cleans your cunt gently, smirking at the cum stringing between his fingers and swirling down the drain. “Can I wash your hair?” he offers with a soft smile.

Your chest feels distended, bloated with an affection you know you shouldn’t be feeling as you nod, the scent of his shampoo maddeningly comforting, sickeningly familiar. Matty’s skilled fingers work over your scalp, a quiet kind of bliss rolling over you as you relax into his touch. Stepping out of the shower, your hair scrunched up in an old t-shirt of his that he swore he didn’t care about getting ruined, you can’t hold back a pout when he wraps a towel around his waist. “Hey, no, what do you think you’re doing?” you gasp, suddenly distracted as Matty starts to bring a towel up to his hair. Puzzled, he stares at you blankly as you snatch it from his grip. “Gonna ruin those pretty curls if you keep doing that,” you tut. “Here, sit down. Let me spoil you for a second, okay?” You’ve never felt so cared for by one of your hookups, even by some of your boyfriends, so you seize a chance to return the favour.

Obligingly, he sits on the closed toilet seat, letting you advance on him with a tub of obscenely expensive hair gel. He smiles softly, leaning involuntarily into your touch as you twist his curls around your fingers, defining them neatly and admiring the way they bounce back on themselves. You straddle his lap to scrunch the gel into his hair, batting his hand away when he tries to grab your tit. “Behave,” you chide, laughing and stepping away to take in your handiwork. With his hair loose and framing his face sweetly, he looks younger, more innocent, a far cry from the man calling you a pretty little cocksleeve not even half an hour ago.

“What are you thinkin’ about, darling?” Matty murmurs, searching gaze heavy on your bare skin.

You blink, shaking your head as if to clear it. “Just about how I could really go for that breakfast in bed right now,” you grin, teasing to alleviate the intensity in the air between you.

He huffs a laugh. “Think it might be closer to lunch by now,” he smirks. “How about I do you one better? Let me take you out for lunch, yeah?”

Your jaw hangs open in shock. Of all the ways you were expecting this to end, this wasn’t it. “Like… like a date?” A date means something, means being seen together in public, means being more than just a dirty little secret.

“Yeah, princess. Like a date.” He smiles fondly. “Here, I’ll call you a car. You go home, get changed, and I’ll pick you up in an hour, okay?” Instinctively, you nod, his tone leaving no room for argument even if you’d wanted to. You open your mouth to ask how he knows where you live, the answer coming to you with sudden, shocking clarity. Right. Because he’s your father’s boss.

Well, fuck. That certainly complicates things.

…But it’s not like complicated has ever stopped you before.

#the instalove is instaloving STRONG here loool #why is this longer than my Actual Novel that im writing so far #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 #writing #smut #white and gold

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byyourside28 · 3 months ago

Text

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.”

#matty healy #matty the 1975 #Matty Healy smut #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #matty healy x reader #matty smut #the 1975 #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x you #zayn malik #zayn smut #zayn malik smut #zayn fanfic #zayn malik fanfic

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toomuchracket · 3 months ago

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girl of your dreams (d word matty x reader smut)

early days of the relationship, sneaky post-show hotel room sex. warnings for d word mention (duh), exactly one (1) spank, matty going down soft sound, unprotected sex (girly is on the pill tho), and creampies. enjoy <3

“yeah, yeah, goodnight,” matty smiles as his bandmates disappear into their respective rooms, entering his own when the locking mechanism clicks open. he's used to that sound now, used to quickly sliding the do not disturb hanger onto the handle, used to kicking his shoes off and placing the keycard near the door and yawning as he turns the corner into the bedroom proper.

what he's not used to, however, is seeing you there, sprawled out on his bed watching tv, wearing your glasses and a champagne-coloured satin nightgown that quite honestly makes him go weak in the knees.

he wants to get used to it, though. really, really wants to. he's determined to, actually. but first, he's determined to make up for being later to your rendezvous than planned. “hi, darling,” he smiles (how could he not, looking at you?), shrugging his jacket off en route to the bed. “i'm so sorry it took me so long to get here.”

“s'alright, baby, i understand. newcastle show and all,” you crawl to the end of the bed to meet him, and the way your tits swing as you do affects him almost as much as the pet name does; both of these things pale in comparison to the way you kiss him, though, all soft lips and quiet sighs, hand coming up to hold his face while you smile into him. when the kiss ends, you press your forehead to matty's, and it takes all his focus not to swoon. “your family are lovely, by the way. ‘specially your dad.”

matty laughs softly. “yeah, he was telling me how canny he thinks you are. says i should be paying you extra for the fact you're the one waking me up every morning.”

“oh, no, i like the kiss currency thing we've got,” you giggle, pressing one to his nose and sending his heart racing. “but were you really that much of a nightmare when you were little?”

“christ, yeah. he didn't detail it?”

“no, he was very sweet. maybe he was trying to make you seem cool,” your pretty face shifts into a smirk, and matty braces himself for the inevitable. “i mean, your family are all so concerned with when you plan on settling down - maybe he was trying to make you seem appealing to me.”

“take it you heard them asking me if i was seeing anyone, then?”

“yeah. was funny,” you peck his lips. “and your answer was very good.”

matty hums, thinking back to the there's someone, yeah, but she's too good for me so i'm playing it cool right now he'd placated his family with. which, to be honest, isn't a total lie. “good, good,” he gently lowers you so you're lying on the bed, crawling atop you and resting his arms on either side of your head; yours rest on his shoulders, pretty nails gently scratching at the back of his head the way he likes. “and was my dad successful?”

“at making you appeal to me? oh, yeah,” the playfulness in your eyes is addictive. “i’m really quite fond of you, matthew.”

god, the way you say his name! “feeling's mutual, gorgeous,” matty leans back, letting his calloused hands lightly skim up the sides of your torso. “love this outfit, by the way.”

“m'glad. bought it with you in mind,” the revelation sends matty reeling, and it's only worsened by what comes next. “dunno if you could call it an outfit, though.”

“why not?”

you smile, sweet as sugar. “because i'm not actually wearing anything else, darling.”

jesus christ. blood rushing in his ears, matty stutters out a response. “you serious?”

a nod, a suggestive bite of your own fingertip. “see for yourself.”

what a fool he would be to do otherwise. blood still pumping in his ears, and travelling more towards his trousers by the nanosecond, matty drags himself down your body and settles himself on the bed between your - fucking gorgeous - legs. with something almost resembling trepidation, he slowly pushes the silk up your thighs, jaw dropping in a groan as he takes in the enticing wetness pooling between them on your cunt. “fucking hell, sweetheart,” he moans, hand tracing up your slit and circling your clit as if on instinct, making you jerk with a whine and his dick jump as a result. when he brings his fingers to his lips and the delectable tang of you hits his tongue, matty's necessary next step becomes crystal clear. “please, please let me eat you out.”

your reply nearly makes him cum there and then - another thing matty's still unused to is the new nickname you've been trying out together, but it isn't half fucking incredible. “yes, daddy.”

matty thinks he breathed out a “thank you” as soon as the words left your lips, but he can't be sure; the only thing he can focus on is getting his mouth on you, licking upwards to your clit before wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and flicking over it with the tip of his tongue, just the way he was elated to discover you like. he can't help but moan into you when he hears your little whimper of “oh, just like that, yeah”, smiling when you moan louder in response and clamp your thighs around his head - a second later, when realisation seems to hit, you go to loosen your grip with a half-whined “m'sorry, daddy”, but matty just shakes his head (which has you moaning again as his tongue slices across your clit) and shuffles himself around so he can wrap his arms around your thighs and keep them there. not out of masochism - well, part of it is - but more out of the fact that your thighs locked around his head is proof that this is really happening, and he isn't just dreaming about going down on you like he did for months after first meeting you.

of course, reality is so much better than those dreams: matty could never have imagined how good you actually taste when he's licking into you with nothing short of desperation, or how beautiful you look when you're all fucked-out, or the way your voice goes all shaky when you're about to cum. which, incidentally, is what's happening now - “m'close, daddy, m'so fucking close. wanna cum, please, please let me cum!”

seems as good a time as any for matty to take a breath, he thinks. pulling away from you just long enough to take in a lungful or air, he nods. “cum, princess.”

with a dazed smile so beautiful it breaks his heart a little bit, and a breathy “thank you”, you obey, body tensing and releasing a final time, accompanied by shaking limbs and broken whimpers of his name and his nickname and god only knows what else. matty kisses your inner thigh, resting his head on it and letting you come back down to earth in your own time; he likes watching you like this, anyway, worn-out from pleasure and a little bit haphazard. your hair's a mess, your glasses are askew (he's also far more into them than he initially thought, to be honest), and your nightgown is really quite crinkled, but he can practically feel the adoration for you emanating from himself.

you're so beautiful. and you're his. he still can't quite believe it's not a dream.

you rake a hand through his sweaty curls, and he's reminded that this is all real. he kisses your thigh again, and you giggle. “hi.”

“hi, darling,” matty rubs a little loveheart on your thigh with his thumb. “how you feeling?”

“so good. thank you, gorgeous,” you smile, while matty's cheeks burn at the compliment. “how are you?”

“i'm good, angel, i'm really good.”

“tired at all?”

he shakes his head. “not really. but we can go to sleep now if you want,” he smirks when you shake your head enthusiastically. “no? there's something else you wanna stay up for… princess?”

you bite your lip, nodding. he huffs out a laugh. “need you to tell me what it is so we can do it, sweet girl. come on,” he pulls himself up slowly, pressing kisses up your stomach and resting his head on your tits. “tell daddy what you want.”

“i - oh, fuck,” you whimper as matty tugs down the top of your dress and mouths at your nipple. “want- want you to fuck me, daddy. please.”

he knew it was coming, and yet matty still feels heat trickle down his chest right to his dick when you speak. “good girl. and how do you want to be fucked, princess?”

“in front of the mirror,” your voice is clear, sure, sexy; it crumbles when you talk again, but matty thinks your secret desire is even hotter. “wanna watch.”

the next few minutes are a blur to matty, which he reckons he would put down to some weird primitive horny instinct to just fuck you as soon as he can. he remembers kissing you, but nothing about how he got you on your hands and knees before the mirror or undressed himself; post-kiss, the only thing he can focus on is the feeling of inching inside your soaked cunt, watching your eyes roll back into your head, listening to the choked moan that leaves your kiss-bitten lips as he bottoms out inside you with a murmured “fuck”. he kisses your shoulder, smiling into your summer-scented skin at the way you giggle deliriously. “feel so good around me, baby. you want me to fuck you now?”

“please,” your jaw slackens as matty starts to move his hips; when he speeds up, groaning at how wet you are, how brain-meltingly tight, you whimper, and he has to force himself not to cum then and there. “daddy…”

“i know, sweetheart, i know. doing so well for me,” matty coos, eyes fixated on the reflection of your tits bouncing in the genuinely most perfect way with every thrust. christ, he's really lucked out with you, hasn't he? sweet, smart, fucking gorgeous… he's punching well above his weight. “my beautiful girl. want me to get you off again, princess?”

you nod, whimpering when his hand meets your asscheek; as he rubs the stinging skin, matty sighs. “words, baby, come on.”

“sorry, daddy. yes please.”

he leans forward to kiss the nape of your neck, moving to whisper in your ear. “good girl.”

his hips speed up, so much so that he can already feel the muscle aches he'll wake up with tomorrow. but it's more than worth it to see you like this, to make you like this, wanton and writhing and whining every time your bodies meet; the way you're beginning to clench around him in the way matty's learned is a sign that you're about to cum spurs him on, too, desperate to get you off and chase his own release. “c'mon, princess,” he pants, gripping your hips as tight as possible to keep up momentum. “need you to cum for me, yeah? cum, and i'll fill you up. know you fucking love it when i do that, don't you? love being a good girl for daddy.”

“yeah,” comes the broken cry in response. your cheeks are stained with mascara tears, streaming from your hazy eyes, and your whole body appears to be shaking - suddenly, it tenses, and matty hisses at the feeling of you vice-tight around his dick. “m'cumming, oh fuck, fuck!”

there's an influx of warmth and wetness around him, and matty can't help but follow in your footsteps. “shit, me too,” he moans, brain foggy but body still slamming into yours, syncopated now; he clings to you as he cums, eyes rolling back into his head as he finishes deep inside your cunt. your arms give out, and matty follows your fall onto the bed, draping himself over you without pulling out and pressing his lips to the back of your neck. “jesus christ, princess, you're so good,” he kisses your cheek when you giggle, a sweetness incongruous with the fact he can feel his cum dripping out of you. “y'alright?”

“yeah,” you turn to catch his lips with yours, a tender kiss that ends with you looking at him so adoringly he almost can't take it. “thank you, baby.”

“anytime. s'my pleasure. and yours, i s'pose.”

“you're so silly.”

“and you're into it.”

“i am, yeah,” you smile, and matty swears he can feel butterflies in his stomach. “i'm just very into you.”

“i feel the same about you,” matty strokes your hair, yawning. “shall we shower? or d'you wanna stay like this for a bit, darling?”

you beam. “wanna stay like this forever, matty. but,” you wink. “given that we're both working tomorrow, maybe we should limit it to, let's say, five minutes of this before we shower?”

god, he's so obsessed with you. “whatever you want, my girl.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #d word matty #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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cryiingoutloud · 23 days ago

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☽〝 an encounter ( matty healy x reader )

in which you are an extra in a music video, and an ordinary day of work turns into a scorching encounter with the frontman of the band.

warnings: 18+, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, masturbation, needy matty aaah, like he can’t shut the fuck up for a second. wc: 11.4k

the studio was a hive of activity, humming with an energy that felt almost suffocating. bright spotlights hung from rigging high above, casting harsh white light over the massive set. everywhere you looked, people rushed about with clipboards and headsets, shouting instructions over the pounding bass of the track that played on a loop.

you stood awkwardly near the edge of it all, feeling completely out of place. just an extra— a last-minute addition to fill space in the background shots. the director’s assistant had told you to “mingle casually,” but that was easier said than done when everyone else seemed to know exactly what they were doing. you felt invisible, and maybe that was a good thing. no one would notice if you just stayed out of the way.

but someone did notice.

he was lounging in a director’s chair near the center of the chaos, one leg draped lazily over the armrest, a cigarette balanced between his fingers. matty healy. you didn’t need to be a fan to recognize him— the messy black curls, the tattoos peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, the devil-may-care smirk that seemed permanently etched onto his face. he looked every inch the rockstar, exuding a kind of casual arrogance that made him impossible to ignore.

you hadn’t expected him to be so magnetic in person. photos didn’t do him justice. there was something about the way he carried himself, the way he leaned back in his chair like he owned the room, that made you hyperaware of his presence. and then his eyes met yours.

it was fleeting— just a quick glance as he took a drag from his cigarette. but it was enough to make your pulse quicken. you told yourself it meant nothing. he probably wasn’t even looking at you. you were just part of the scenery.

but then it happened again. and again.

by the third time, you couldn’t pretend anymore. matty healy was looking at you.

the hum of activity on set didn’t falter for a second, but to you, it felt as though the noise had dulled. the air shifted every time matty’s eyes landed on you, his dark gaze sharp and unrelenting, cutting through the chaos and pinning you in place. you tried to convince yourself it was a coincidence. maybe he was bored. maybe he was zoning out and just happened to be looking your way.

but then his gaze turned deliberate. calculated. his lips quirked into something that wasn’t quite a smile, more like a quiet acknowledgment. a dare.

you crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly hyperaware of how exposed you felt in this crowd of strangers. you didn’t belong here— not among the carefully curated glamour of the other extras and certainly not in his world. you looked away, fixing your attention on a grip carrying a massive piece of equipment, but the feeling of his eyes lingered, a weight you couldn’t shrug off.

you didn’t realize how close he was until you caught the scent of him— cigarettes, leather, and something faintly spicy that clung to his skin. when you glanced up, he was standing only a few feet away, talking to the director. his body language was loose, casual, but there was an edge to the way he moved, like he was aware of the way every set of eyes followed him. he said something low to the director, and the older man nodded, glancing around the room.

“her,” matty said, his voice carrying just enough for you to hear. the word hit you like a jolt of static. you didn’t process it at first, not until the director’s gaze followed matty’s finger— pointed directly at you.

your breath caught in your throat. no, surely he didn’t mean—

“you,” the director called out, his tone brisk and impatient, like he didn’t have time for hesitation. “come here.”

you froze. your mind screamed at you to move, but your feet refused to cooperate. the director frowned, gesturing sharply with one hand, and before you knew it, someone was nudging you forward, pushing you into the spotlight. every instinct told you to shrink back, but there was no escape. not when matty’s gaze was fixed on you like a spotlight of its own.

when you finally stepped into the center of the set, you felt small, out of place under the weight of so many eyes. matty, however, looked utterly at ease. he stood just a few feet away, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, his head tilted as he watched you approach. the corners of his mouth curved upward in something resembling amusement.

“relax,” he said, his voice low and rich, cutting through the buzzing anxiety in your head. “i don’t bite.”

the director clapped his hands, already moving on to instructions. “we need something raw, something spontaneous. the last scene fell flat. a kiss, unscripted, unplanned— it’ll be perfect.”

your stomach dropped. a kiss?

before you could form a coherent thought, matty took a step closer. he was tall - taller than you expected - and the sharp angles of his face seemed even more pronounced up close. his curls fell messily across his forehead, and his dark eyes gleamed with something unreadable, something dangerous.

“you’re okay with this, yeah?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost gentle. the question caught you off guard. it didn’t match the intensity of his presence, the raw magnetism that seemed to radiate from him.

“i—” you swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how dry your throat had become. “yeah. i guess.”

his lips twitched into a half-smile, but he didn’t say anything else. he just waited, watching you with a patience that felt somehow more unnerving than the chaos surrounding you.

“all right, places, everyone!” the director called out, his voice snapping like a whip. the crew bustled around you, shifting cameras, adjusting lights, barking last-minute instructions. you barely registered any of it. all you could focus on was matty— on the way he stood so still amidst the motion, like a storm gathering in the eye of a hurricane.

“action!”

the word rang out, and before you could even process it, matty was moving.

he closed the distance between you in a single, unhurried step, his hand lifting to cradle the side of your face. his touch was warm, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, and then his lips were on yours.

the kiss wasn’t what you expected. you thought it would be quick, perfunctory, something to get the shot and move on. but matty kissed you like he had all the time in the world, like there was nothing else in the room worth paying attention to. his mouth was soft yet firm, coaxing rather than demanding, and the taste of cigarettes lingered faintly on his lips.

your body froze at first, overwhelmed by the sudden intimacy, but then his other hand found your waist, his fingers pressing lightly against your hip, and something inside you cracked. you kissed him back without thinking, your lips parting slightly as he deepened the connection. his tongue brushed against yours, a teasing flicker that sent a shiver down your spine, and your hands moved of their own accord, gripping the fabric of his shirt as though to steady yourself.

the world around you blurred. you couldn’t hear the director shouting for another angle, couldn’t see the camera operators adjusting their lenses. all you could feel was matty— his heat, his scent, the way his body seemed to mold perfectly against yours.

and then, just as suddenly as it began, it ended. matty pulled back, his lips lingering against yours for a fraction of a second before he stepped away. his hands dropped to his sides, and his expression shifted back into something unreadable, the intensity in his eyes shuttered behind a veil of practiced indifference.

“cut!” the director yelled, his voice jolting you back into reality. the room buzzed with activity once more, but you felt like you were moving through molasses, your limbs heavy and your thoughts sluggish.

“not bad,” matty said, his voice low and smooth as he leaned in just slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “you might’ve even enjoyed that.”

before you could respond - before you could even process the low, teasing lilt of his words - he stepped away, disappearing into the crowd of crew members and equipment as though nothing had happened.

you stood there for a moment, rooted to the spot, your heart pounding against your ribs.

“not bad,” you muttered under your breath, still reeling. it felt like the understatement of the century.

you spent the next hour trying to focus on anything but him. the director barked out instructions, moving extras into new positions, setting up shots that required wide angles and sweeping camera movements. it should have been easy to lose yourself in the crowd, just another nameless face blending into the backdrop. and for a while, you managed it.

until you felt him again.

matty was impossible to ignore. even when he wasn’t near you, his presence lingered like static in the air, crackling faintly against your skin. you tried not to look at him, but every time you did, he was already watching. his gaze wasn’t subtle— it was deliberate, steady, a pull you couldn’t resist no matter how much you tried. and he knew it. the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

he wasn’t keeping his distance, either. between takes, he wandered the set with a casual sort of purpose, his strides loose and unhurried. once, he passed close enough that his arm brushed yours, and even that fleeting contact sent a spark shooting down your spine. he glanced back over his shoulder as he walked away, like he was waiting for you to react. you refused to give him the satisfaction, but your heart betrayed you, hammering against your ribs so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

the first time he spoke to you again, it was barely more than a whisper.

“doing all right?” he asked, his voice curling around the words, low and smooth.

you turned to find him standing just behind you, far too close for comfort. he leaned in slightly, his dark eyes flicking over your face with lazy curiosity, like he was cataloging every detail. his proximity was disarming— his body warm, his scent all-encompassing. you swallowed hard, willing yourself not to lean into him.

“i’m fine,” you said, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt.

“good.” he didn’t move back. if anything, he leaned in closer, his voice dipping even lower. “wouldn’t want you to feel… overwhelmed.”

the emphasis on the word sent a flush creeping up your neck. he was teasing you, testing your boundaries, and the smug tilt of his lips told you he knew exactly what kind of effect he was having.

“i’m fine,” you repeated, sharper this time. “thanks for checking.”

his grin widened, but he finally stepped back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “message received.”

by the time the director called for a short break, you were desperate for a moment to collect yourself. the lights were too hot, the noise too loud, and matty’s relentless teasing had left you feeling frayed, stretched thin by a tension you couldn’t shake. you slipped away from the set, weaving through the maze of equipment until you found a quieter corner— a storage area cluttered with spare cables, cases, and forgotten props.

leaning against the wall, you took a deep breath, letting the relative silence wash over you. your pulse was still racing, and no amount of logic could calm it. this was ridiculous. he was just some musician. a man. you’d kissed him, sure, but it was for work. it didn’t mean anything.

“found you.”

the voice startled you, low and smooth, cutting through the stillness like a blade. you turned sharply, your breath catching as matty stepped into the room. his presence filled the small space immediately, the sharp angles of his face cast into shadow by the dim overhead light. he wasn’t smirking anymore. his expression was something else entirely— intent, focused, like he’d just found exactly what he was looking for.

“you’re not supposed to be back here,” you said, your voice unsteady.

“neither are you,” he countered, leaning casually against the doorframe. “guess that makes us even.”

you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to put some kind of barrier between you and the weight of his gaze. “did you follow me?”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he took a step closer, closing the distance between you with an ease that made your pulse jump. he stopped just short of your personal space, tilting his head as he studied you.

“you ran off earlier,” he said finally, his tone soft but pointed. “didn’t even stick around to hear if the director liked the shot.”

you shrugged, trying to appear unaffected. “figured it wasn’t my business.”

“hmm.” his gaze flicked over you, lingering on your lips for just a fraction of a second too long. “seemed pretty personal to me.”

your heart stuttered, your skin prickling with heat. “it was just a scene.”

“was it?” the question was barely above a murmur, but it carried the weight of something heavier, something dangerous. he took another step forward, and this time, you didn’t move back. “because it didn’t feel like ‘just a scene’ to me.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. the air between you felt thick, charged with something you couldn’t name but couldn’t ignore. every nerve in your body screamed at you to step away, to put some distance between you, but you couldn’t move. not when he was this close, his breath warm against your cheek, his dark eyes holding you in place like a magnet.

“tell me i’m wrong,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, rough and intimate. “and i’ll leave you alone.”

your throat tightened. you wanted to say it. you wanted to push him away, to break whatever spell he’d cast over you. but the words wouldn’t come. instead, your silence hung heavy between you, louder than anything you could have said.

matty’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile, more like a quiet acknowledgment of victory. he lifted a hand, his fingers brushing lightly against your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his.

“you’re not going to say it,” he murmured, and there was something almost tender in his voice, a softness that made your chest ache. “are you?”

the words hung in the air between you, heavy and charged. matty’s hand lingered on your jaw, his thumb brushing a feather-light stroke along the curve of your cheek. you felt the press of his gaze, dark and intent, pulling at something deep in your chest. but instead of shying away like you might have earlier, you met his stare head-on.

and you smiled.

it wasn’t much at first - just the faintest curve of your lips - but it was enough to make matty falter, his expression shifting ever so slightly. his brows knit together, like he wasn’t sure he’d seen what he thought he did. that hesitation was all you needed.

“who says you’re not wrong?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady, laced with just enough bite to let him know you weren’t going to back down.

the corner of his mouth twitched, his grip on your jaw tightening just enough for you to feel the heat of his skin. “am i?”

you tilted your head slightly, forcing his hand to drop away. “maybe you are,” you said, stepping out of the shadow he’d cast over you. “or maybe you’re just trying too hard.”

matty let out a soft laugh, low and rough, but there was a spark of something behind it— surprise, maybe, or curiosity. you’d caught him off guard, and you weren’t about to let him recover so easily.

“trying too hard?” he echoed, straightening. “is that what you think?”

you shrugged, feigning nonchalance even as your heart pounded in your chest. “you’re laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think? all the staring, the brooding— it’s very… obvious.”

his lips parted slightly, as if he was about to respond, but instead, he let his gaze rake over you, slow and deliberate. when his eyes met yours again, the playful smirk had returned, sharper this time. “you don’t seem to mind.”

“oh, i didn’t say i minded,” you said, your tone sharper now, a teasing edge creeping in. “i just think it’s funny. you don’t have to work so hard, you know.”

matty tilted his head, studying you like he was seeing you for the first time. “you’ve got some fight in you after all,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

you crossed your arms over your chest, the movement deliberate, designed to draw his attention. it worked. his eyes flicked down, just briefly, before snapping back up to your face. “were you expecting me to swoon?” you asked, arching a brow. “sorry to disappoint.”

his laugh this time was louder, rougher, and it sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “i don’t know if ‘disappointed’ is the word i’d use.”

“good,” you said, your voice dropping just slightly, enough to make him lean in closer. “because i’d hate to let you down.”

the shift in your dynamic was almost palpable. where you’d been shy and unsure before, now you had the upper hand, and you weren’t afraid to wield it. matty, for all his bravado, seemed thrown by your sudden confidence, though he hid it well behind his usual smirk. still, you noticed the way his posture changed, the way his eyes lingered on you just a little too long, like he was trying to figure out exactly what had shifted.

and then you pushed it further.

“you’re staring again,” you said, the words slipping out before you could think better of them. they were bold, teasing, but you didn’t regret them. not when they made Matty’s smirk falter for just a split second.

“am i?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl.

“you are.” you took a step closer, closing the distance between you until you could see the faint flecks of gold in his dark eyes. “i’m starting to think you have a staring problem.”

matty tilted his head, his curls falling messily across his forehead. he looked at you for a long moment, his gaze heavy, calculating. “and i’m starting to think you like it,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. “what if i do?” you asked, letting the words hang between you like bait. “what are you going to do about it?”

something in his expression shifted— an almost imperceptible change, but enough to make your breath catch. his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and his hand twitched at his side like he was stopping himself from reaching for you. he took a step forward, and suddenly, the air between you felt thick, suffocating in the best way.

“you’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his voice so low it sent a shiver down your spine.

“and you’re not?” you shot back, tilting your chin up just slightly, enough to make him notice. enough to make him react.

he did.

matty’s hand shot out, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. the movement was so sudden, so sure, that you barely had time to process it before you felt it - him - hard and undeniable, pressing against your thigh. the realization sent a jolt of heat straight to your core, and your breath hitched despite your best efforts to remain composed.

“still think i’m trying too hard?” he asked, his voice rough, his lips so close to your ear that you could feel the heat of his breath.

you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. instead, you looked up at him, your heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst. his eyes were darker now, heavy-lidded, his pupils blown wide with something that made your stomach flip.

“i—” you swallowed hard, struggling to find your voice. “you’re definitely trying.”

his lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through the intensity of his expression. “and?”

you knew what he was asking. you could feel the tension coiling between you, thick and electric, begging for release. part of you wanted to push back, to keep playing the game, but another part - a louder, more insistent part - wanted to see how far you could push him.

“and,” you said, your voice steady now, bold, “it’s working.”

that was all it took. matty let out a low sound that was somewhere between a growl and a laugh, his grip on your waist tightening as he shifted his hips just slightly, pressing himself more firmly against you. the movement drew a soft gasp from your lips, and his eyes lit up at the sound, his smirk returning in full force.

“you’re full of surprises,” he murmured, his free hand lifting to brush a strand of hair away from your face. the gesture was almost tender, but there was nothing soft about the way his eyes raked over you, his gaze smoldering with an intensity that made your knees weak.

“i could say the same about you,” you managed, your voice breathless but still sharp enough to draw another low laugh from him.

“yeah?” his hand slid up from your waist, his fingers grazing the curve of your ribs, and you had to bite your lip to keep from letting out another sound. “what’s surprising about me?”

your breath caught as he shifted again, the pressure of him against your thigh sending a fresh wave of heat rushing through you. “that you’re not as smooth as you think you are.”

that earned you a grin, sharp and wolfish. “you’re lucky i like a challenge.”

“am i?” you asked, leaning in just enough to make him chase you, to make him close the final gap between you.

“very,” he said, his voice a low growl, his lips brushing yours in a way that was maddeningly light, teasing, almost cruel.

matty’s lips hovered just a fraction of an inch from yours, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him, close enough that his breath fanned over your skin with every shallow inhale. his hand lingered on your waist, his fingers pressing into the curve of your side with just enough pressure to remind you how much control he could take— if he wanted to.

but he didn’t. not yet.

“i’m not smooth?” he repeated, his voice low, teasing, like he was tasting the words as he said them. his thumb traced a lazy circle over your ribcage, sending a ripple of heat through your body. “that’s a bold accusation.”

you smiled, your breath catching as you felt him shift again, his hips pressing more firmly against your thigh. the hard, unmistakable evidence of his desire was searing even through the layers of clothing, and you swallowed hard, your cheeks flaming despite yourself. still, you held your ground.

“bold, maybe,” you said, your voice softer now, but steady. “but accurate.”

matty let out a low hum, tilting his head as he regarded you. his gaze flicked over your face, lingering on your lips before sliding back up to meet your eyes. the weight of it was enough to make your knees feel weak, but you refused to back down. you wanted to see how far you could push him, how much you could unravel that tightly wound self-assurance he wore like armor.

“you’ve got a mouth on you,” he murmured, his smirk returning, sharper this time. “i like that.”

“i bet you do,” you shot back, leaning in just slightly, enough to make him close the distance between you. it worked— his breath hitched, his hand tightening on your waist, and the flicker of surprise in his eyes sent a surge of satisfaction through you.

for the first time all night, you felt like you had the upper hand.

“you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone low and rough, the words more accusation than question.

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you let your hands drift down to rest lightly on his chest, your fingers brushing over the fabric of his shirt. his breath caught, and you felt the way his muscles tensed under your touch, the tension coiling tight just beneath the surface. you dragged your fingers lower, just to see what he’d do, and the way his jaw clenched sent a thrill racing through you.

“maybe i am,” you said finally, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “why? is that a problem?”

matty let out a low laugh, his hands sliding to your hips and pulling you closer, the movement so smooth and fluid it made your heart stutter. “not for me,” he said, his voice a low growl. “but you might regret it.”

you arched a brow, refusing to let him intimidate you. “i doubt that.”

“is that right?” his smirk widened, but there was something darker in his expression now, a heat in his eyes that sent your pulse racing. “you think you can keep this up, do you?”

“why not?” you asked, your voice dipping just slightly, enough to let him know you weren’t backing down. “you’re not exactly hard to figure out.”

the moment the words left your mouth, you saw the shift in his posture, the subtle flicker of something predatory in his gaze. he leaned in, his breath brushing over your cheek, and you braced yourself for whatever sharp retort he was about to throw at you.

but he didn’t speak. instead, he rolled his hips forward, pressing himself against you more deliberately this time, the hard line of him dragging against your thigh in a way that made your breath catch.

you felt the heat rush to your face, but you refused to look away, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. instead, you let your hands drift lower, your fingers brushing the waistband of his trousers in a move that was just bold enough to make him tense.

“careful,” he murmured, his voice rough and low, like he was holding himself back by sheer force of will. “you’re playing with fire.”

“maybe i like fire,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words landed with the force of a challenge.

matty’s lips twitched, his smirk giving way to something darker, something hungrier. “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“don’t i?” you asked, tilting your head. you dragged your fingers along the waistband of his trousers again, slower this time, just to see how far you could push him. “you don’t seem like the type to hold back.”

his breath hitched, his hands tightening on your hips as his head dipped lower, his curls brushing against your cheek. “i usually don’t,” he admitted, his voice rough and raw. “but you’re making it difficult.”

“good,” you said, your lips curving into a smile that you knew would drive him mad. “i’d hate for this to be too easy.”

for a moment, he didn’t respond. he just looked at you, his gaze heavy, searing, and you felt the weight of it in every inch of your body. his hands slid higher, his thumbs brushing the bare skin beneath your shirt, and the deliberate slowness of his movements made your breath catch.

“you’re trouble,” he said finally, his tone low and almost amused. “i knew it the second i saw you.”

“then maybe you should’ve left me alone,” you shot back, the words bold, reckless, but they made him laugh— a low, rough sound that sent a thrill racing through you.

“not a chance,” he murmured, his head dipping lower until his lips were just a breath away from yours. “not when you look at me like that.”

the chaos of the set melted away the moment matty grabbed your hand. he didn’t ask, didn’t explain— just laced his fingers with yours and pulled you through the maze of equipment and crew, his grip firm and insistent. you barely had time to catch your breath as you followed him, your pulse racing and your skin buzzing from the electricity crackling between you.

when he finally pushed open the door to his changing room and pulled you inside, the sharp click of the lock sliding into place seemed to echo in the small space. the air was different here— still heavy with tension but quieter, more intimate, as if the room itself had been holding its breath, waiting for you both to arrive.

the space was simple but messy, the telltale signs of matty’s presence scattered everywhere: a leather jacket draped carelessly over the back of a chair, an ashtray with a half-smoked cigarette still smoldering, makeup and hair products cluttering the vanity. the faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air, mingling with the smell of cigarettes and something faintly earthy— something that was entirely him.

you barely had a chance to take it all in before matty spun you around and pressed you against the door, his body flush against yours. the solid weight of him was grounding and overwhelming all at once, and your breath hitched as his hands found your waist, his grip firm and possessive.

“been driving me fucking crazy,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, the words spilling out against your neck as his lips found your skin. “all night. watching you, teasing me…”

“teasing you?” you shot back, your voice shaky but teasing. “you’ve been staring at me like i’m the only person here.”

“you are,” he said simply, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. the blunt honesty of his words sent a jolt of heat through you, and you let out a soft gasp as his lips trailed lower, kissing and biting a path down your neck.

your hands found his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping you upright. his touch was everywhere - his lips, his hands, the heat of his body pressing into yours - and you felt yourself melt into him, your earlier boldness giving way to the raw, desperate need he’d ignited in you.

“matty,” you breathed, the sound of his name spurring him on. he groaned low in his throat, his hands sliding up your sides to tangle in your hair as he pulled your mouth to his.

the kiss was searing, all teeth and tongue and barely contained hunger. he kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, like he wanted to devour you whole, and you gave as good as you got, your fingers tangling in his curls as you pulled him closer. his lips moved against yours with a deliberate intensity, and when he nipped at your bottom lip, you let out a soft moan that made him press harder against you, his hips rolling into yours in a way that left no question about what he wanted.

“fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and strained. “you’re—”

he didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t have to. the way his hands roamed your body, his fingers skimming the curve of your waist before gripping your hips, said more than words ever could. he lifted you just slightly, pinning you more firmly against the door, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding onto him like your life depended on it.

the heat between you was unbearable, each kiss and touch stoking the fire that threatened to consume you both. when matty finally pulled back, his breathing ragged, his pupils blown wide with desire, you felt like you might collapse without the support of the door behind you.

“we need…” he trailed off, glancing around the room like he was searching for something. his eyes landed on the vanity, cluttered with makeup brushes, compacts, and an open water bottle. he smirked, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs. “come here.”

before you could respond, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you the few steps to the desk and setting you down on its edge. the scattered items clattered as he pushed them aside, but neither of you cared. his hands were back on you in an instant, gripping your hips as he stepped between your legs, his body fitting perfectly into the space you’d made for him.

“you’re trouble,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “i fucking love it.”

you didn’t have a chance to respond before he kissed you again, his mouth hot and demanding as his hands roamed over your thighs, squeezing and caressing in a way that left you trembling. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and the low groan he let out at the contact sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your belly.

matty’s hands slid higher, his fingers brushing the hem of your shirt before slipping beneath it to explore the bare skin of your waist. the rough pads of his fingers against your soft skin were intoxicating, and you arched into his touch, your head falling back as his lips left yours to trail down your neck.

“fuck,” he muttered again, his voice muffled against your skin. “you feel so good.”

“matty,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way to your collarbone, his teeth grazing lightly before soothing the spot with his tongue. the combination of pain and pleasure sent a shiver down your spine, and you tightened your legs around him, grinding against him in a way that drew a strangled moan from his throat.

the sound was addictive, and you wanted more. you wanted to see just how far you could push him, how much you could unravel that carefully cultivated control he carried like a shield. you slid your hands down his back, gripping the hem of his shirt and tugging it upward. he pulled back just enough to let you strip it off, the fabric catching briefly on his curls before falling to the floor.

your breath caught at the sight of him, his lean frame littered with tattoos, each one a story you wanted to unravel with your fingertips. you reached out, your hands roaming over the smooth planes of his chest, the hard lines of his stomach, and he shuddered under your touch, his hands gripping your thighs so tightly you were sure you’d bruise.

“jesus,” he muttered, his head falling forward to rest against yours. “you’re gonna fucking ruin me.”

you smiled, your fingers tracing the edge of a tattoo on his ribs. “good.”

he laughed, the sound low and rough, before pulling you into another kiss. this one was slower, more deliberate, but no less intense. his hands slid to your back, pressing you against him as his lips moved against yours, and you felt like you might come apart under the weight of it all.

the edge of the desk dug into your thighs, but you didn’t care. all you could think about was the way matty’s body felt against yours, the way his hands explored you like he couldn’t get enough. when his lips left yours to trail lower, kissing and biting a path down your neck to the hollow of your throat, you let out a soft moan that made him groan in response, his fingers digging into your hips.

“say my name,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and pleading. “i need to hear it.”

“matty,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way to your collarbone. the sound of his name seemed to spur him on, his lips and hands growing more insistent as he claimed every inch of you he could reach.

you didn’t know how much more of this you could take, the tension between you stretching so taut it felt like it might snap at any moment. but you didn’t want it to end. not yet.

not when it felt this good.

matty’s lips trailed lower, his kisses growing hotter, wetter, and more insistent as they mapped out every inch of your neck, your collarbone, the delicate line of your throat. his hands gripped your hips tightly, his thumbs brushing over the bare skin just below your shirt, and every touch, every press of his mouth, sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through you.

your head fell back, hitting the mirror lightly as you let out a soft moan, your fingers tangling in his dark curls. he groaned at the sound, the vibration of it humming against your skin, and the edge of his teeth as he bit gently into your collarbone sent a shiver racing down your spine.

“you’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin. his fingers slid lower, brushing against the hem of your skirt, and his grip tightened as his lips moved back to your mouth, capturing you in another searing kiss. this time, there was no hesitation, no careful build-up— just pure, unrestrained hunger.

his hands, warm and rough, slipped under the fabric of your skirt, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs. the feeling was electric, and you gasped into his mouth, your hips jerking involuntarily toward his touch. that reaction seemed to spark something in him, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes heavy with lust as they locked onto yours.

“you’re shaking,” he murmured, his voice rough and teasing, but there was an edge to it, a tremor of barely contained desire that made your stomach flip. his hands slid higher, his thumbs brushing against the edge of your underwear, and you saw the exact moment he felt how wet you were.

he froze, his breath hitching sharply as his fingers pressed more firmly against the damp fabric. “fuck,” he whispered, his voice low and strained, like he was barely holding himself together. he looked up at you, his eyes blazing. “you’re already this wet for me?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. instead, you nodded, your cheeks burning under the intensity of his gaze. his smirk returned, sharp and dangerous, and he let out a low, rough laugh that sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your belly.

“you’re gonna drive me fucking insane,” he muttered, his fingers hooking under the fabric of your underwear. his movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was savoring every second, but the tension in his body told you he was holding himself back by sheer force of will.

and then he snapped.

with one sharp tug, he tore the flimsy fabric down your legs, his movements rough and impatient. you gasped at the suddenness of it, your thighs clenching instinctively as the cool air hit your heated skin. matty, however, seemed completely oblivious to anything but the scrap of lace now dangling from his fingers.

he brought them to his face, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled deeply. the sound he made - a low, guttural moan that seemed to come from deep in his chest - was almost obscene, and it sent a shiver racing through your entire body. his fingers tightened around the fabric, and he looked at you with a kind of raw, unfiltered hunger that made your heart stutter.

“fuck, you smell so good,” he murmured, his voice thick and unsteady. he pressed the fabric to his face again, his eyes slipping shut as he let out another moan, his hips twitching slightly as though even the scent of you was enough to push him closer to the edge.

you couldn’t take your eyes off him, couldn’t process the raw, shameless way he was indulging himself. it should have embarrassed you, but instead, it sent a rush of heat straight to your core, your thighs pressing together in a futile attempt to ease the ache building between them.

matty noticed, of course. his lips curved into a wicked grin as he tossed your underwear to the floor and dropped to his knees in one fluid motion.

he looked up at you from his position on the floor, his curls disheveled, his lips parted, and his eyes heavy-lidded with lust. the sight of him - so shameless, so utterly consumed by his need for you - made your breath catch.

“spread your legs for me,” he said, his voice rough and commanding but laced with a kind of reverence that sent a shiver down your spine.

you hesitated for only a moment before obeying, your thighs parting slowly, deliberately, as you leaned back on your hands for balance. matty’s gaze never left yours, but you could see the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, the tension in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.

“good girl,” he murmured, the words soft but heavy with praise, and the sound of them made your cheeks burn. he slid his hands up your thighs, his palms warm and rough, and the deliberate slowness of his movements made your skin prickle with anticipation.

when he reached the apex of your thighs, his thumbs brushed over your slick folds, and you couldn’t suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips. matty groaned at the sound, his eyes flicking down to where his fingers were exploring you, and the heat in his gaze was almost unbearable.

“look at you,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “so fucking perfect. so wet.” he spread you open with his thumbs, his breath hitching as he took in the sight of you, and you felt like you might melt under the intensity of his stare.

and then his mouth was on you.

the first touch of his tongue was soft, almost tentative, as though he was testing your reaction. you let out a shaky breath, your hips jerking slightly, and that seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you firmly in place as his tongue moved over you with slow, deliberate strokes.

you let out a low moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as you arched into his touch. he groaned in response, the sound vibrating against you, and the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through your entire body.

“fuck, matty,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.

he didn’t respond, didn’t look up— he was too focused, too intent on making you fall apart. his tongue moved with maddening precision, tracing every inch of you, teasing and exploring until you were trembling under his touch. he alternated between soft, languid licks and sharper, more insistent movements, his lips and tongue working together in a rhythm that had you gasping for air.

when he finally found your clit, his lips closing around it in a gentle suck, you let out a loud, broken moan, your thighs clenching around his head. matty growled, the sound low and primal, and his hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you open as he worked you with an intensity that left you dizzy.

his tongue circled your clit, his movements slow and deliberate, and you felt the pressure building with every stroke. your hips bucked against his mouth, desperate for more, and he groaned in response, his hands sliding up to grip your hips as he pulled you even closer.

“you taste so fucking good,” he muttered against you, his voice muffled and wrecked. he didn’t wait for a response— just dipped his head lower, his tongue slipping inside you as his nose brushed against your clit.

the sensation was too much and not enough all at once, and you let out a choked moan, your fingers tugging at his curls as your thighs trembled against his grip. he fucked you with his tongue, the movements slow and deliberate, before pulling back to focus on your clit again, his lips and tongue working together in a way that made your vision blur.

“matty, i’m—” you didn’t finish the sentence; you couldn’t. the pressure inside you was building too quickly, too intensely, and all you could do was hold onto him as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

he seemed to sense it, his movements growing more focused, more insistent, as though he was determined to pull you apart. his tongue flicked over your clit, his lips sucking gently before releasing, and the alternating sensations sent you spiraling.

when you came, it was with a loud, broken cry, your body arching off the desk as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. matty didn’t stop, didn’t slow— he kept working you through it, his tongue and lips coaxing every last aftershock from your body until you were trembling in his hands.

finally, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal as he looked up at you, his expression equal parts smug and reverent.

“good girl,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “you look so fucking beautiful when you come.”

you couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything but stare at him, your chest heaving and your skin flushed as you tried to catch your breath. matty smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning up to kiss you again, and the taste of yourself on his lips sent a fresh wave of heat through your already spent body.

matty rose from his knees slowly, almost reluctantly, his hands sliding from your trembling thighs as he stood. his face was flushed, his lips swollen and glistening, and the hunger in his dark eyes hadn’t dimmed in the slightest. if anything, it burned brighter, sharper, like he was fighting to keep himself in check.

you were still catching your breath, your thighs trembling against the edge of the vanity as the aftershocks of your orgasm rolled through you. your head felt light, your body boneless, but the heat in your belly hadn’t fully subsided. if anything, the way matty looked at you - his pupils blown wide, his chest heaving - rekindled the fire almost instantly.

you reached for him instinctively, your hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders. your fingers brushed against the soft skin of his neck, and you could feel the rapid pulse beneath your touch. he groaned softly, leaning into your hands, his lips parting as though he was going to kiss you.

but then you moved lower.

your fingers drifted down to his stomach, brushing the waistband of his trousers. you felt the hard line of his erection pressing against the fabric, and when you let your palm graze over it, his entire body tensed. a low, guttural sound escaped him, his hips jerking slightly into your touch.

“fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained. His hand shot out, catching your wrist before you could go any further. “don’t.”

you looked up at him, your lips parting in surprise. “don’t?” you echoed, your voice breathless and confused. “i want to—”

“i know,” he said, cutting you off with a shake of his head. his grip on your wrist softened, but he didn’t let go. instead, he leaned down, his forehead pressing against yours as he took a deep, steadying breath. “i want you to, but… not now.”

his words were quiet, deliberate, but there was a rawness in his tone that made your stomach flip. he was holding himself together by a thread, and you could see it in the tightness of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders.

“i need to feel you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’m too fucking close. i can’t wait anymore.”

the honesty in his words, the way his voice broke just slightly at the end, made your heart stutter. you nodded, your breath hitching as his hand slid from your wrist to your waist, his fingers curling around you as he lifted you effortlessly from the vanity.

matty carried you across the room like you weighed nothing, his grip firm but careful, and you clung to him instinctively, your arms wrapping around his neck. he set you down gently on the plush couch, his hands lingering on your hips as he stepped back just slightly, his eyes raking over you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

“you’re still shaking,” he murmured, his voice soft but tinged with something darker, something that made your breath hitch.

“i’m fine,” you said, though your voice betrayed you, shaky and breathless as you tried to collect yourself.

matty’s lips curved into a faint smile, but there was no teasing in his expression now— just raw, unfiltered want. he let out a soft hum, his hands sliding down to your thighs as he knelt in front of you once again.

“you’ll be fine,” he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “but not yet.”

before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing over yours in a kiss that was slower, softer, but no less consuming. his hands moved to your hips, gripping you firmly as he guided you back against the couch, the plush fabric cool against your skin.

when he pulled away, his dark eyes locked onto yours, he shifted to sit back on the couch, his long legs sprawled slightly apart, his body relaxed in a way that was entirely deliberate. one arm draped over the back of the couch, the other rested on his thigh, and he tilted his head as he watched you with a smirk that was equal parts lazy and commanding.

“now,” he said, his voice low and rough, “take care of this for me.”

you followed his gaze to where his erection strained against the fabric of his trousers, the outline of him unmistakable, and your stomach tightened at the sight. the sharp line of his hips, the way the waistband of his trousers dipped just slightly, the bulge pressing against the zipper— it was all enough to make your mouth go dry.

your hands trembled slightly as you reached for him, sliding over his thighs and stopping just short of the waistband of his trousers. his breath hitched, and when you glanced up, his eyes were locked onto yours, his smirk faltering as you dragged your fingers slowly over the taut fabric.

“you’re teasing me,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained.

“am i?” you asked, your tone deliberately innocent, though the way your fingers lingered over his zipper betrayed your intent.

“don’t play with me,” he said, his voice dipping lower, his fingers curling into the couch cushions as though he was trying to hold himself back. “you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“oh, i think i do,” you said, your lips curving into a small smile as you finally slipped your fingers under the waistband of his trousers. his hips lifted slightly, a silent plea for you to continue, and you took your time, dragging the zipper down slowly, deliberately, just to watch the way his jaw clenched.

when you finally freed him, pushing his trousers down to mid-thigh, you let out a soft gasp, your breath hitching at the sight of him. he was big, the length of him curving slightly upward, the tip red and glistening with precum. the sheer size of him made your stomach flip, and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring, from taking in every detail.

matty groaned softly, the sound rough and needy, and when you looked up, his head had fallen back against the couch, his eyes fluttering shut as he dragged a hand through his messy curls.

“fucking hell,” he muttered, his voice strained. “you’re killing me.”

you couldn’t help but smile, the sight of him - so utterly wrecked, so shamelessly undone - filling you with a rush of confidence. you let your thumb drift over the head of him, brushing against the bead of precum and spreading it slowly. the movement was soft, almost tentative, but it was enough to make him hiss sharply, his hips jerking into your touch.

“fuck,” he said again, his voice tight as his head snapped up, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

you didn’t answer— not with words, at least. instead, you let your thumb brush over him again, slower this time, and the way his entire body tensed beneath your touch sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your belly.

your thumb grazed over the slick head of his cock again, this time with a little more pressure, and the sharp hiss that escaped matty’s lips sent a shiver down your spine. his hips jerked involuntarily into your touch, his breath catching in his throat as you wrapped your fingers around him, your grip firm but teasing. the weight of him in your hand, the heat of him, made your pulse race, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip as you slowly began to stroke him.

“jesus,” he muttered, his voice low and wrecked. his head fell back against the couch, his curls spilling over the cushions, and his chest heaved as his hands gripped the edges of the seat. “you’re gonna fucking kill me.”

you smiled, your confidence growing with every broken sound that spilled from his lips. your strokes were slow, deliberate, and you tightened your grip slightly, your thumb brushing against the sensitive underside of his tip. his reaction was immediate— a guttural groan tearing from his throat as his hips bucked into your hand, seeking more.

but just as you started to pick up the pace, he stopped you.

his hand shot out, gripping your wrist with enough force to make you freeze, your movements halting as you looked up at him in surprise. his dark eyes were wild, his pupils blown wide, and his expression was so desperate, so raw, that it made your breath catch.

“no,” he said, his voice hoarse, almost pleading. “i told you, not like this.”

you blinked, your lips parting to speak, but he shook his head, his grip on your wrist softening but not letting go.

“i need to feel you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly on the last word. he leaned forward, his free hand cupping the side of your face as he pressed his forehead to yours. “i need you. now.”

the sheer need in his voice, the way his body trembled beneath your touch, sent a wave of heat rushing through you. your heart pounded in your chest, your skin buzzing with anticipation as his words sank in. he wasn’t asking— he was begging. and the realization made your head spin.

you kissed him then, slow and deliberate, pouring every ounce of your own mounting desire into the press of your lips. matty groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip your hips as he pulled you closer, his body pressing into yours with an urgency that left you breathless.

when you pulled back, your breathing ragged, you didn’t hesitate. you rose to your knees, your thighs bracketing his hips as you positioned yourself over him. the heat of his cock, hard and heavy against your inner thigh, sent a jolt of anticipation through you, and you bit your lip as you reached down to guide him to your entrance.

matty’s breath hitched as the tip of him brushed against your slick folds, and his hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like he was holding himself together by a thread. “fuck,” he muttered, his voice strained. “you’re so fucking wet.”

you couldn’t respond, couldn’t find the words to express the way you felt as you shifted your hips, pressing yourself down slowly. the slightest pressure was all it took— your body yielding to him with an ease that made you both moan, your wetness allowing him to slip inside you in one smooth, effortless motion.

you settled over him completely, your thighs bracketing his hips as his cock stretched you impossibly full. he was buried deep, every inch of him, and you could feel him throb inside you, hard and slick from your wetness. matty’s head fell back against the couch, a sharp hiss escaping his lips as his hands gripped your waist almost too tightly, like he needed the anchor to keep from losing himself.

“fuck,” he groaned, the word drawn out, desperate. his fingers flexed against your skin as his hips twitched, pressing deeper, testing the limits of what you could take. “you’re— jesus, you’re so tight.”

the overwhelming stretch and fullness made you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders for balance. he filled you so completely it bordered on too much, but the delicious drag of his cock against your walls had your head spinning. you shifted slightly, rolling your hips experimentally, and the way he groaned- a low, guttural sound that made your stomach flip - spurred you on.

“you’re so big,” you murmured, your voice breathless and shaky. the words weren’t meant to tease, but matty’s reaction was immediate. his eyes snapped open, locking onto yours, and the hunger in his gaze sent a rush of heat straight to your core.

“don’t,” he warned, his voice hoarse, strained. his grip on your hips tightened as you rolled your hips again, slower this time, testing his resolve. “don’t fucking start.”

“why not?” you asked, tilting your head as a faint smile played on your lips. you rolled your hips again, and the way his jaw clenched, his head falling back against the couch, made satisfaction bloom in your chest. “you don’t like it?”

“too much,” he muttered, his voice rough and wrecked. his hips jerked upward instinctively, and the sharp thrust made you gasp, your thighs trembling against him. “fuck, you’re too much.”

you leaned forward, your hands bracing against his chest as you began to move in earnest, slow and deliberate. every rise and fall of your hips drew a broken sound from his throat, his head snapping up to watch you, his dark eyes wild and heavy-lidded with lust.

“look at you,” he muttered, his voice rough and uneven as his hands slid from your hips to your thighs, gripping tightly. “you’re fucking perfect. riding me like that, looking so— fuck.” his words cut off as you sank down on him again, grinding your hips just slightly, and his entire body tensed beneath you.

the sheer size of him, the way he filled you so completely, made your breath hitch, and you couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped your lips. “you feel so good,” you murmured, the words spilling out before you could think to stop them. “so fucking good.”

“yeah?” matty growled, his voice low and wrecked. his hands slid back to your hips, his grip firm as he guided your movements, his hips bucking up into you with sharp, deliberate thrusts. “you’re so fucking wet. squeezing me so tight— i’m not gonna—” he stopped himself with a sharp hiss, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold back. “shit, i’m not gonna last if you keep—”

“don’t hold back,” you said, your voice shaky but teasing as you braced your hands against his chest, matching his thrusts with your own. “i want you to lose it.”

“you’re evil,” he muttered, his voice rough and wrecked. his head fell back against the couch as he fought to keep up with your pace, his thighs tensing beneath you as he pushed up into you with every roll of your hips.

the rhythm between you grew frantic, your bodies moving together in a desperate, almost primal rhythm. the sharp snap of his hips, the way his cock dragged against your walls with every thrust, sent sparks of pleasure racing through your body. you were dizzy with it, drunk on the feeling of him inside you, the sound of his broken groans and curses echoing in your ears.

“fuck, you’re gonna ruin me,” matty growled, his hands sliding up your back as he pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck. his lips brushed against your skin, hot and wet, as his thrusts grew sharper, harder, his restraint unraveling with every second. “you’re so fucking perfect. so tight, so wet, so— jesus christ.”

you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his messy curls as you buried your face in his shoulder, muffling the sounds spilling from your lips. the tension between you was unbearable, every thrust and grind building the pressure higher and higher until it felt like you might break under the weight of it.

matty was trembling beneath you, his body taut with tension as he fought to hold himself together. “i’m close,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained. his hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as his hips snapped upward again, harder this time. “too fucking close. shit, i can’t—”

“hold on,” you whispered, your voice shaky as you leaned back, your hands bracing against his chest to steady yourself. “just hold on a little longer.”

“fuck, i’m fucking trying,” matty growled, his dark eyes locking onto yours as his grip on your hips tightened almost painfully. “but you’re— jesus, you’re fucking perfect. i can’t—”

“matty,” you gasped, your voice breaking as he thrust up into you again, hitting a spot inside you that made your vision blur. “just hold on.”

your body trembled as matty thrust into you, each movement raw and desperate, the slick heat of his cock dragging against your walls in a rhythm that had your head spinning. his hands gripped your hips like a lifeline, his fingertips pressing into your skin as though holding you there was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“fuck, i’m coming,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, strained. his dark eyes were half-lidded, his curls damp with sweat as he stared up at you. the desperation in his expression was palpable, his lips parted as he panted for breath, every muscle in his body taut with tension. “i— fuck, i’m gonna—”

you leaned forward, your hands bracing against his chest as you kissed him deeply, swallowing his broken moan as you slowed your movements. the kiss was messy, hungry, your lips and tongues tangling as you rode him slower, deeper, until you felt him twitch inside you, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding back.

“let me,” you murmured against his lips, your voice soft but commanding. “let me take care of you.”

his groan was raw, guttural, and he dropped his head back against the couch, his eyes fluttering shut as his hands slid from your hips. “fuck,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “do whatever you want. just— just don’t stop.”

you smirked, leaning back slightly as you placed your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath your palms.

Your eyes drifted downward, and you bit your lip at the sight of his cock, still buried inside you, glistening with your wetness. the tip was flushed an angry red, a bead of precum dripping from the head, and you could feel him throb inside you, his body begging for release.

“look at you,” you murmured, your voice low, almost teasing as you lifted yourself slowly, letting him slip out of you. he groaned at the loss, his hips twitching upward instinctively, but you pressed a hand against his stomach, keeping him still. “so desperate.”

“fuck,” matty muttered, his voice rough, his hands fisting in the couch cushions as you wrapped your fingers around him again, stroking him slowly. “you’re fucking killing me.”

you smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to his jaw as your hand worked him, your grip firm but deliberate. his cock was slick with your arousal, making every stroke smooth and effortless, and the sounds he made - the sharp gasps, the broken curses, the low, desperate groans - sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through you.

“don’t hold back,” you murmured against his ear, your voice soft but insistent. “i want to see you.”

his breath hitched, his hands gripping your thighs as his hips bucked into your hand. “i can’t— fuck, i can’t—”

“you can,” you said, your voice firmer now as you kissed your way down his neck, biting gently at the sensitive skin there. “let go for me.”

that was all it took. matty’s entire body tensed, his hips jerking upward as his cock twitched in your hand. “fuck,” he groaned, his voice breaking as his release spilled over your fingers, painting his abdomen in hot, thick ropes of white. his head fell back against the couch, his mouth falling open in a silent moan, and his entire body trembled with the force of it.

you didn’t stop, your hand working him through the waves of his orgasm, drawing out every last drop until he was panting beneath you, his chest heaving and his thighs trembling. his cock twitched in your grip, still sensitive, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him— utterly wrecked, his hair sticking to his forehead, his body glistening with sweat and the evidence of his release.

“fuck,” he muttered again, his voice barely above a whisper. “you’re— jesus fucking christ.”

you didn’t answer. instead, you leaned back, your eyes drinking in the sight of him. his release coated his stomach, dripping down his skin, and the sight made your mouth water. you licked your lips, your gaze flicking to his as you shifted, sliding down his body.

“what are you—?” matty’s question cut off with a sharp gasp as your tongue darted out, licking a broad stripe up his stomach. his cock twitched against your wrist, still leaking, and the broken sound he made as he watched you clean him with your tongue sent a fresh rush of heat pooling low in your belly.

“fuck, you’re insane,” he muttered, his voice shaky as his hands found your hair, gripping it tightly. “you’re gonna fucking kill me.”

“good,” you murmured, glancing up at him through your lashes as you licked another drop of his release from his skin. his cock twitched again, harder this time, and you smiled against his stomach, your tongue swirling over the sensitive skin just above his navel.

matty groaned, his head falling back against the couch as his fingers tightened in your hair. “you’re fucking evil,” he muttered, but his voice was thick with arousal, his body trembling beneath your touch.

you took your time, your tongue tracing every line of his abdomen, cleaning every drop of his release until his skin was glistening, slick with your saliva. his cock jerked again, leaking another bead of precum, and the sound he made - a low, desperate whimper - sent a shiver racing down your spine.

when you finally finished, your lips trailing up his chest to his neck, matty pulled you close, his hands fisting in your hair as he kissed you deeply. his tongue swept into your mouth, tasting himself on your lips, and the kiss was so raw, so consuming, that you felt your knees go weak.

he groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down your back as he pulled you closer, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. when he finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, his forehead resting against yours as he held you tightly.

“jesus,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “you’re fucking unbelievable.”

you smiled, your fingers brushing through his messy curls as you caught your breath. “you’re not so bad yourself.”

he laughed softly, the sound low and warm, and his arms tightened around you, pulling you against his chest in a way that felt almost protective. the silence that settled between you was heavy but comfortable, your bodies pressed together as you let the heat of the moment slowly fade.

“can i see you again?” matty’s voice was soft, tentative, and it caught you off guard. you pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his, and the vulnerability in his expression made your chest ache.

you smiled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “i think i’d like that.”

his answering smile was slow, lazy, and it made your stomach flip. “good,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your back as he kissed you again, softer this time but no less consuming. “because i don’t think i’m done with you yet.”

#matty healy #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy imagine #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty the 1975 #the 1975 smut

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whimsicalpolitical · 1 month ago

Text

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.

#matty healy #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy oneshot #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #matty healy blurb #matty healy fluff #the 1975 #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 fic

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didyoulookforme · 4 months ago

Text

need you tonight

part of give me a moment (aka stylist au as briefly described in this tag)

warning: 18+, smut. probably grammatical errors, typos.

au masterlist here

-----

“sorry—‘m sorry”

you’re pretty sure those are some of the only words that stumble past his lips as you go down on him. perhaps an apology for his ring getting tangled in your hair, trying to keep you close. but to be honest, the more cynical part of you hopes it's pure regret for fucking someone else just hours before.

it was not strange for you to crave a nicotine hit at this time, more often than not stepping out the bus to smoke a cigarette or two prior to calling it a night, that first inhale always making your head buzz a little as the all-too-familiar warmth runs through your limbs, a much welcome sensation to try leave the tiredness behind.

every day was like clockwork. bus arrives at the venue. stage and lighting are assembled. band soundchecks. you have a quick dinner. then it's time for him. after all, it's what you're here to do, work as matty's own personal stylist during the tour.

you had no clue luck had finally struck when you opened those dms earlier this year.

(13:43) trumanblack: hey (13:43) trumanblack: i found your profile via my friend (13:44) trumanblack: i really like your style n you look pretty cool

(13:58) trumanblack: sorry if this sounds creepy. promise i'm a real human tho (13:58) trumanblack: x

you didn’t recognize him. however from a swift scroll through the feed, you gathered that his name was matty. apparently the front man of a seemingly popular band with a fanbase head-over-heels lusting for them.

mostly him, though.

you couldn't help but gaze at his lanky frame and pale skin adorned with ink, zooming in on certain posts to try decipher what they were. he definitely had a point of view when it came to dressing himself—sometimes a bit messy and chaotic, but for the most part pleasing to the eye, a quality you appreciated given your line of work. his seemingly playful demeanour across photos made it seem like he was perhaps younger than you, this time a google search confirming that, in fact, he was born three years later. april 1989.

countless press photos appeared under his name and you spent the next half hour swiping back and forth between articles, finding him intriguing enough and giving you the surge of confidence to respond.

and that's basically why you're leaning against this tour bus now. the friendly banter with a stranger led you to travel the world and do what you enjoy most. the fancy clothes. the colourful glitz. the wild after parties. this stuff that you always dreamed about was somehow now your own reality that you often had to pinch yourself to ensure you weren't just passed out cold on the sofa back home.

however, this almost too good to be true gig also led you to fall for a guy, the same one whose collar you straighten almost every night.

the most fucking cliché story. some assistant falling for her boss just months after being hired. it actually makes you feel sickeningly stupid, embarrassed. still you can't seem to stop digging yourself deeper into a hole with every hour you spend caring for him, not being made any better by matty being nothing but affectionate towards you behind closed doors.

you know he’s the reason your nicotine addiction has increased tenfold, always finding yourself alone at this hour enveloped in smoke, part of you still wanting to pretend you do so to numb out the sleepless nights. took you a while to finally admit you did it as an attempt to cloud out any thought of him.

tonight’s really no different.

you’re not sure how much time has passed, but it’s enough for the cold to start settling on your skin. perhaps it’s your queue to stop and go back in. you snub out your cigarette, watching the red embers fade just as a car rounds the corner. it halts to a stop only a few meters away, and you catch the faint sound of a door creaking open, followed by the murmur of voices filling the night air.

then you hear it. that unmistakable high pitched laugh that can pull you awake in a single second. him.

and, of course. you immediately know why.

you’d learned pretty early on this was a common end to the routine: matty picks up a girl at the gig, goes fucks her somewhere, and has her drop him off right after.

reminds you of the number of red and purple bruises you often cover up before his show. it wasn't rocket science figuring out the cause, yet he never really addresses it, choosing silence and averting his gaze as your fingertips dab foundation on tender skin, temporarily hiding any remains of nights prior.

you didn't even notice your eyes had closed. not until the car door slams shut, jerking them open just in time to see him blow a kiss in her direction. your heart fractures at the sweet gesture, but only hurts for a second before he's walking towards you, his stupid wide grin mending it better.

"didn't expect to see you out here.”

open button-up untucked. blazer over his shoulder. dark curls frizzy and disheveled. everything making it crystal clear he's just slept with someone else and still not you.

"only making sure you make it back alright so i can tuck you in." of course, you wish that were the case.

it's only a few seconds until he settles next to you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. soft lips gently brushing against your skin. the way he always greets you—but only when no one's watching.

"aren't you sweet, then?"

"trying my best." given the circumstances, it's pretty much all you can do.

he pulls out his beat-up cigarette box, flicking it open and offering you one. you decline, showing him the smothered tip of your own before finally tossing it aside.

"guess it must've been a pretty good time today," you lick the pad of your thumb before rubbing a lipstick mark off his jaw. it’s always ruby red or deep maroon. those same tones which he'll compliment you on. a similar shade you left on his lips the only time your mouth had been on his.

you finish cleaning the stains off his skin, matty murmuring a soft ‘thank you’ for having done so. it’s your turn to kiss his temple. “‘tis my job, you know? making sure you look good.” you should be mad, upset, have some sort of negative emotion. instead, you can’t help but have your heart intermittently flutter when he returns a sheepish smile, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you close.

neither of you say much, but that’s alright. you rest your head on the crook of his neck, noticing how nice it feels. how nice he feels. you see the chipped nail polish on his fingers. the wrinkled fabric of his flowered shirt. the dark hair down his torso. the unbuckled belt at his waist. it’s only then that jealousy creeps itself back in and suddenly your shoes seem all that more interesting than the man standing by your side.

"why do you do it, matty?" the sweetness of your voice never fails to mask the envy you actually feel. or at least you hope it does.

"hmm?"

"the sleeping around.” you finally lift your head to look at him, surprised that his pretty eyes were already on you. the toothy smirk is gone, though, replaced by a thin, expressionless line at his lips. he doesn’t owe you an explanation. you know that. thus why you’re surprised when he actually starts to talk.

"dunno, really.” he lights up another cigarette and you notice as he gets lost in his mind. “i mean, it’s kinda difficult to say no to sex or a blowjob when they’re literally throwing themselves at you.” he seemingly tries to joke, but you don’t have time for funny right at this moment.

instead you wonder if it’s actually that easy.

“let me do it, then.”

“so—sorry?” he chokes mid-drag.

“let me give you a blowjob just like those other girls do. just like she did,” you point at the ghost of that green car from before, “ just tonight.”

it’s like his face cannot figure out which expression to land on, flipping between confusion, surprise, and something else that reads between need and desire.

“what the fuck?” his voice is shaky and it stings when he pushes you aside, yet, he doesn’t try hard to put much distance between you two so it’s not difficult to invade his space, standing right in front of him until your face is a breath away from his. large, calloused hands grasp your shoulders tight, halting you from inching closer.

“don’t.”

“what’s the difference between them and myself, then?” seems like a simple enough question to you. “why can they have you and not me?”

but he has no answer, at least not one that he can properly voice. his hold on you starts to lessen, perhaps giving you some permission to let you do whatever you want.

you bring your hands up to his and pull them away, kissing his knuckles before placing them on your waist. an almost incoherent ‘fuck’ leaves his lips, and, as if on cue, his head falls back willingly, giving you the space to kiss his neck. the faint smell of her still on him.

“please let me,” you whisper against his skin.

it’s not even a question at this point.

his fingers dig into your hips as you look at him once more, now noticing a mixture of lust and care in those almond coloured eyes. for a minute there, you get lost in them, admiring how his pupils dilate when your hands find the button of his pants, and how they shrink back as you finally undo the zipper. you don’t want to waste any more time—you’ve already waited too long—so you slide your palm down his pants to grab his half-hard cock, his eyes instantly rolling to the back of his head when you wrap your fingers around him.

“is this okay?”

you take the buck of his hips as a confirmation, giving you the courage to spread the precum along his length. he feels nice. having him in your hand seems just right and you only hope that he won’t regret this when he wakes up next morning in bed.

tonight is your turn to suck on the skin alongside his jaw, the thought of having to cover your own marks making you smile.

“fuck, baby.”

you’re not sure if he even noticed that sweet name leave his mouth, but you like the sound of it, and it’s all it takes for you to drop to your knees, dragging his pants and boxers down just enough to pull out his dick.

you look up at him once more, his left hand coming to tangle on your head, his other loosely holding his cigarette, almost done and fully forgotten. you kiss his tip, your gaze still not leaving his, thoroughly enjoying yourself as he bites his bottom lip each time your thumb hits that spot under the head of his cock. his scent is almost too much to bear so you take him in one go, feeling his cock twitch inside your mouth. it doesn’t take long before he’s fully hard and hitting the back of your throat.

the plastic taste of latex is still on his skin. a sad reminder that you weren’t his first tonight. that maybe you are an afterthought. just another girl who he uses to make himself come. but at least it means you get to have him even if it’s just this one time.

matty. that’s all that’s on your mind. once again. somewhat difficult to not think about him when you’re sucking him off, those heavenly sounds coming from his mouth making your own slick drip down your leg.

you pull away to catch your breath, using your hand to keep stroking him, pleasantly surprised when he pulls on your hair each time your red fingernails graze the underside of his cock. you do it again and again until he breaks and fucks your hand, apologizing for not being able to help himself. it’s a sight you’ll commit to memory as long as you’re alive.

now that you’ve had a taste, it’s only so long you can go without having your lips around him. and that’s what you do, take him again, hands urging his hips to fuck your mouth. to fuck himself senseless in the hopes that you’ll be the one he turns to when he needs somebody else. he doesn’t deny your request, throwing away the wasted cigarette to guide you, setting a pace that allows him to stay steady on his feet.

purely drunk on him, you're barely aware when his phone vibrates in his pocket, matty muttering 'sorry' before grabbing and letting it drop onto the grass at your side. nosiness always gets the best of you, so you can't help but glance down, catching sight of a text from an unsaved number asking if he could fuck her again tomorrow.

you feel his hips falter. he knows you've seen it.

“’m sorry.”

this time it's a mix between a cry and a whimper. perhaps he did feel bad. perhaps some part of him did care about you in the way that you needed him to.

you reach back to place your hand on top of his, making him push your head further into him, to thrust into you until tears pool at your lashes just as he spills hard and fast down your throat. his taste overtakes every cell of your being as you swallow, feeling him soften against your tongue before you reluctantly pull away.

you didn’t even realize your knees were so sore until you stand up, not wasting a second to ask him is he's going to see her again the following night.

"do you want me to?" his thumb wipes away some of his cum off the corner of your lip. you reach out to suck it, slowly shaking your head in response.

he laughs nervously as his mouth clashes against yours, stealing both the air from your lungs. this wasn't the first time you’d kissed, but this wasn’t like before. the way he quietly moans against your lips. the softness of his fingers resting on your face. the crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he pulls back.

"can i see you tomorrow, then?"

you could’ve sworn you heart stopped. can you truly believe those words after watching him leave you behind all those nights? the soft circles his thumbs draw on your skin do feel sincere, the reassurance you need to perhaps let him in, give him a chance even though you know it’s a slippery one.

it’s your turn to brush your thumb against his mouth, slowly pulling at the bottom lip and watching it bounce back up into place. you kiss him one last time before confirming 'okay', immediately turning to finally head back in. not wanting to linger for too long in case he changes his mind.

you catch his reflection on the mirror, noticing as he tucks himself in, and it’s that slight smile on his face which keeps you awake for hours on end.

-----

for this lovely anon here. thank you for the inspo :) <3

#wrote most of this while high so i apologize if it doesn't make sense #give me a moment #stylist au #matty healy smut #the 1975 smut #matty healy fanfic #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy imagine #gmam #mw

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god-has-entered-my-body · 24 days ago

Text

On a train (again) - Matty Healy x fem! Reader

A/N: oh my god hello im alive i think. classic abouttofillhisshoes era style banner im going back to my roots. mpind revival no one was ready for ❤️

content warnings: smut, blowjobs, fingering, switchy throughout for sure, fingering, sex in public spaces the fucking freaks cant wait, they get caught and its as terrible as it sounds

word count: 1.7k

This is a horrible idea, you're sure.

A cheap soap bar clatters onto the ground as you somehow force the door of the bathroom shut, squeezing you and matty into the cramped space. There's barely any room to stand, your knees touching his and foreheads pressed against each other, both of you panting heavily as Matty’s grin makes something stir inside of you.

“We’re fucking mental for this, you know that?” He breathes out, that stupid smile contagious as you roll your eyes at him, smashing your lips together in a heated, sweaty kiss.

The train rumbles underneath you and you can hear fellow passengers chattering outside, the danger of it all having you drip into your panties, soaked through in a matter of seconds. Hands roam aimlessly up and down your figure, clothes torn off haphazardly as Matty paws at your lacy bra, desperate enough to pull the cups down instead of unbuttoning it as he usually would. You dont have enough time for propriety, definitely not.

“Need you now, want you so fucking bad babe.” you moan into his ear, lips attached to you throat as Matty bites and sucks messy hickeys into the skin of your neck, his tongue finding the little charm of your necklace in an instant. The cursive M that dangles on a dainty silver chain, forever in plain sight drives the boy insane, his eyes glued to the metal while his fingers work at pulling your too-tight skirt up and over your hips.

His hands squeeze the fat of your sides, kneading and bruising the skin harshly as you whimper into his touch, hands scratching his back raw, red lines visible in the crooked mirror behind him. You see a light flicker, but pay it absolutely no mind when Mattys fingers finally pull your thong to the side, not even bothering to slip it off. No, he needs you just as much as you need him. Right. Fucking. Now.

The rough pads of his fingers swipe at your clit and you let out a whine, a hand quickly clamped over your mouth to muffle your noises. The door might be thick, but it isn't soundproof. The thought of someone walking in on you in this precarious position makes your heart thrum in your ribcage, and an excited smile creeps up onto your lips.

“Fuck, oh my god, Matty.” you whimper as he speeds up, curls obstructing your vision but not hiding the way Matty bucks his hips forward, back flexing in the mirror behind him in a way that makes your breath hitch.

You're breathless, Mattys fingers working at a dizzying pace and the feel of his cold rings grazing your walls makes you clench around him, earning yourself a proud chuckle. “You’re so fucking hot, angel. Got me rock hard for you, all f’you” Matty’s voice is raspy, low as he whispers filth into your ears, the knot in your core tightening with each syllable that leaves his spit covered lips. “Doing so good for me sweetheart, gonna make me come s’fast.” you slur your words, but the praise spurs him on, his non dominant hand holding you tightly and you can barely contain the pathetic moan that threatens to rip itself from your throat as the heel of his hand grinds against your clit deliciously.

It doesn’t take long until you're close, it can't, given the location you’re both currently in. You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly you whisper the words “M’xlose, fuck- please baby.” into his ear, burying your head into his neck as your orgasm washes over you in mind numbing waves, Matty’s tongue nipping at your earlobe driving you fucking insane.

And right when you think you're done, exhausted, Matty takes his slick covered fingers, and sticks them into his own mouth. The way he sucks on them is absolutely obscene, and it awakens something more inside of you. “Y’taste so good darling, like honey.” you’d cringe at his painfully cheesy comment if it wasn't for the lust filled look he was giving you, eyes filled with suggestion and willingness.

You dont think as you drop down to your knees, banging your heels against the door in the process. The position is cramped and awkward, yes, but all of that fades away the second you see the way he strains against his jeans, twitching at the way you look up at him, batting your mascara covered eyelashes.

“What's got you this worked up, hm?” you tease, a hand coming up to squeeze his ass firmly, making Matty yelp in surprise. “You’re a fuckin minx is what you are. Got me hard and now you’re teasing.”

“Jesus, you complain too much, don't you think?” you bite back before biting for real, taking the fly of his jeans between your teeth and pulling it down slowly, relishing in the way Matty threads his hand into your hair, tugging unintentionally as his fingers catch a knot, making you whine at the sudden strike of pain and pleasure through your body.

Matty whimpers and leans against the unstable sink behind him, gripping onto it with his other hand. The faint wet spot on the front of his boxers as you pull the trousers down makes you giddy, licking your lips in anticipation. Matty knows better than to say something now, not when hes so fucking close. “Please.” is the only word that slips past his pressed together lips before you take him out of his underwear, pressing a teasing kiss to the tip of his leaking cock.

You resist making a comment on how wet he is, wanting to make this last at least a few minutes before he spills down your throat. But its just too fucking good to pass up.

“God, you're just soaked for me, aren't you angel? Just need me that badly.”

Matty nods frantically, eyes screwed shut in ecstasy as you guide him into your mouth, the warm wetness of your throat sending him into a frenzy. He feels like he's reached some sort of other world, pure pleasure enveloping his body as you tongue at him, your little hums of satisfaction at his reactions making him louder and louder, threatening to expose the both of you.

Matty’s eyes widen as you guide his hand to push you forward, nodding slightly as he gives you a look of confirmation. “You’re a fucking wet dream, fuck.”

Your mascara flows freely down your cheeks as he grips your hair harshly, pulling you back before thrusting his cock back into your warm mouth, small gasps of pleasure filling the cramped bathroom.

The both of you freeze when you hear a quiet back from outside, scared to death it might be a knock. Ten seconds go by, then thirty, and you're sure the person had moved on once realising the door was locked. You shoot Matty a relieved look, and he giggled in return, whispering an exhilarated “Could you imagine if they had realised what we were doing in here? Id fucking die of embarrassment.

“You’re getting your dick sucked, how could that possibly be embarrassing?” you answer, raising your eyebrows at him, and a string of spit connects your lips to his tip. Matty doesn't take his eyes away from that spot the entire time you speak. “Yeah, in a train bathroom, it's all dirty in here!”

“Can’t be dirtier than what we’re doing, can it?” you grin, sticking your tongue out to lap up the precum drooling from his cock.

The feeling of him hitting the back of your throat over, and over, and over again makes you drip between your thighs, your hips shifting slightly to try and get some friction on the seam on your panties. Matty pants loudly, biting his lip as your eyes tear up even more, your makeup absolutely ruined in your effort.

“M’so fucking close, darling girl, fuck you feel so good.” He moans, tightening his grip in your hair even more, forcing you in place as he fucks your throat, hard. You can barely form a coherent thought, the sound and smell and taste of him filling every sense. You arent prepared when we finally does spill into your mouth with a guttural groan, holding you down as the taste of come lands on your tongue. You swallow, much to Matty’s satisfaction, but not before showing him the remnants of his orgasm.

“Gonna fucking kill me babe, that was amazing.” You grin at him, aching knees almost buckling underneath you as you get up to kiss him, his little whine a the taste of himself on your lips makes your head spin. The bathroom reeks of sex and sweat, your hair is a mess and Matty’s shirt is still half undone as you open the door and peer out, being met with a pair of piercing blue eyes.

An old man stares at you from a seat facing the bathroom, a look of disgust on his face as you pull back into the space, the horror evident in your expression telling Matty everything he needed to know.

You both do the walk of shame down the aisle, making uncomfortable eye contact with multiple passengers who you now know definitely heard you. God, were you embarrassed.

By the time you make it back to your still empty seats, both of you are red in the face, yet still giggling at the absurdity of the situation.

“Never again. We are never doing that again.” you force out, letting your head fall onto his shoulders.

The both of you burst out into a fit of laughter as Matty replies.

“Was hot though, you on your knees-”

“Never. Again. “

#omg hi #mpind matty #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty the 1975 #the 1975 smut #the 1975 x reader

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sugar-coat-it · 3 months ago

Text

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.

#i need him to read tumblr smut to me pls #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy imagine #the 1975 fic #the 1975 x reader #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic

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lonesome-sometimes · 2 months ago

Text

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.

#matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #the 1975 fic

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wreckedandpolemic · 7 months ago

Text

regret me - matty healy

(mdni) in which an enmity with a certain infuriating singer turns mutually beneficial. 11775 words.

warnings: oral (f and m receiving), semi-public sex, mild exhibitionism, praise, degradation, switch!matty

Entering Battle of the Bands at your local had started off as a joke. Mostly. Your bassist Sabrina had pointed out the poster last time you were there for drinks, and you’d signed your name. It’d be a laugh, you’d reasoned, a good way to get into playing live shows and meet some other local bands. Plus, a hundred quid cash prize couldn’t hurt.

But that was before you met Drive Like I Do. Or, more specifically, their insufferable little twerp of a lead singer, Matty.

He meets your eyes across the bar, smirking like he likes what he sees, and, honestly, he doesn’t hurt to look at, so you lift your drink in his direction and beckon him over. “Hi,” he grins. “I’m Matty. Are you staying for the show?” You nod, but he interrupts you before you can elaborate. “We’re on last, so you might have to sit through some right shit before it gets good. Have you seen some of the names on the lineup? I mean, True Romance? I bet they just named it that ‘cause it sounds pretty. Probably haven’t even seen the film.”

You glower, and it’s obviously not the reaction he expects, his face screwing up in confusion. “That’s my band. And True Romance is one of my favourite films, not that it fucking matters.” You get up from the table, scowling at him. “And I have a name, thank you so much for asking.”

Annoyingly, Matty’s right; most of the bands on the lineup are shit. But you figure that means you’ll wipe the floor with them, having actually rehearsed and learned your own songs that aren’t covers.

You look out at the crowd, adrenaline pumping in your veins as Grace tunes her guitar. This is probably the most people you’ve ever played for, you realise with a jolt, swallowing around the lump in your throat and stepping up to the mic. “Hello, everybody! How’s everyone feeling tonight? You feelin’ good? Yeah?” The crowd cheers back at you, and you grin blissfully. “Alright, I’m not here to dick about, I’m here to play some fuckin’ songs! We’re True Romance and this is Dream Girl.”

You throw yourself into the set, your hair sticking to your forehead as you sweat under the lights. Your gaze keeps wandering to Matty, sat in a booth with who you assume are his bandmates, nodding along and watching you with intrigue. He quirks an eyebrow at you and you tear your eyes away, grateful for the heat that hides the flush in your cheeks. The crowd is practically frenetic, cheering wildly as the final note whines out of the speakers, and you join hands with your bandmates and bow.

You blow a kiss to the audience and step off stage, passing Matty as he and his band take their positions. Checking the lineup, you scoff when you read the name of the band playing directly after you. Drive Like I Do? And he had the audacity to call your band’s name shit? But you quickly realise they could have the longest, most nonsensical name in the world, and it wouldn’t matter; they’re really fucking good. Matty looks like he was born for the stage, soaking up the crowd’s attention and magnifying their energy tenfold. It doesn’t even matter what they’re singing about (as far as you can tell, a video game) — every girl in the bar is screaming her head off, giggling to her friends when one of the boys so much as looks at her.

Okay, so maybe you’re a little smug that Matty won’t stop looking at you. You’re not blind, after all. Doesn’t make him not a cocky little prick. He comes straight over to you when his set finishes and you roll your eyes. “What, are you expecting me to fall at your feet ‘cause you can hit a few notes behind a mic stand?” you scoff, and he laughs.

“Oh, come on, love. No need for the only two good bands in here to be fighting. Promise I’ll buy you a drink after I win.” You scowl. “Oh, and she’s even prettier when she’s angry. Was it something I said?” he smirks.

“Fuck off and die,” you say with a saccharine smile.

Sabrina slides into the seat Matty just vacated. “He’s into you,” she says, passing you your pint with a slight wrinkle of her nose. You give her a look, and she scoffs, the pair of you so attuned to each other by now that you can communicate without words. “Oh, don’t be all you about it. He’s hot,” she laughs. “If you don’t, I will.”

“Be my guest. He’s a dick.”

She snorts into her Sex on the Beach. “The way he’s eye-fucking you? Tenner says he goes home alone tonight.” She leans in, smirking conspiratorially. “Or with you.”

You roll your eyes. Betting on a stranger’s sex life is… strangely on brand, for the two of you. “I’ll take that bet. Look at the state of him.” You wave a hand in his general direction, a pint glass in one hand and some girl’s ass in the other, her skirt hiked inappropriately high in plain view. She’s pouting, though, his attention clearly not on her even as he paws at her ass, gaze locked on you instead.

Sticking your middle finger up, you turn resolutely away as the other two members of your band wander up to the table. You lose yourself in the conversation, still wild with adrenaline from playing a proper show, and for a moment you forget why you were playing in the first place. When you’re announced as the second place holders, though, you remember, scowling openly because you know there’s only one band who could possibly be winning.

Matty extricates himself from the girls clinging onto him as the cheers start to die down and strolls over, setting a drink in front of you. “Here. Told you I’d get you a drink when I won,” he smirks, and you accept it grudgingly. Look, you’re not about to turn down a free drink, alright? “Don’t sulk, love. We…” He waves a hand, indicating both your band and his. “Collectively, wiped the floor with every other fuckin’ person in here. C’mon, don’t be a sore loser. Let me get you drunk, you won’t pay a penny, I swear.”

And as much as you want to punch his smug little face in, pour your drink over his vintage band tee, one you recognise as being horribly expensive, you’re tempted by the offer of getting smashed on Matty’s tab. Plus, Grace is giving Drive Like I Do’s bassist the eyes, so she’ll be fucking off over there either way.

So you take him up on it, downing vodka cokes until you can barely see straight, screaming in Matty’s face that Blur is obviously better than Oasis, come on! You don’t know how it happens, but you find yourself dancing with them and not hating it? Spinning breathlessly between Ross and George (who are actually pretty sound, in all honesty), you grab Grace and Sabrina by the hands and let them pull Alice, your drummer, into a circle, kicking your legs and laughing wildly.

Lost in sticky floors, thumping bass and a spirit-fuelled haze, you don’t push Matty away when his hands find your hips. You grind your hips back against him, let him press damp kisses to your neck, licking the sweat off your skin. A shudder runs down your spine, faint threads of desire creeping under your skin. “Stopped bein’ a sore loser yet?” he taunts, and your good mood vanishes like a snuffed-out candle.

You turn, slinging your arms around his neck and leaning in close. Matty’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips distractingly, the skin plush and soft. You have a sudden craving to bite down on the skin there, feel it tear beneath your teeth, taste blood in your mouth. You want him, and you want him wrecked. “You,” you say, low voice carrying all the intimacy of a kiss. “Are the most self-absorbed, insufferable piece of shit I’ve ever met. Bathroom. Five minutes.” Matty’s face splits in a wicked grin, leaning so close he could kiss you. You stay like that for a moment, sharing oxygen, the feeling of breathing him in intoxicating, like you’re drunk all over again.

The sticky air of the pub feels impossibly cold as you break away, Matty’s gaze burning into your back until you’re swallowed into the crowd, weaving your way into the bathroom. Matty clicks the door open a few moments later, glancing around furtively before slipping inside. All the air rushes from his lungs as you slam him against the door, one arm braced against his chest and the other tensed beside his head. A gratifying flash of fear crosses his face and you smirk at him, leaning close to speak against his lips. “Am I scaring you, baby?” He swallows thickly. “Good,” you breathe, connecting your lips in a harsh kiss.

Matty moans into your mouth, the taste of gin spilling from his tongue as you devour him. You kiss to hurt, to injure, to bruise, biting down on his lower lip and licking over the wound. He whimpers a little, from pain or arousal you can’t tell, but you have a sneaking suspicion it’s both. “Fuck, you kiss like an animal,” he gasps, chest already heaving.

You grin viciously. “Only when I hate you. C’mon, on your knees. I haven’t got all night.” Matty pouts a little. “Oh, what, did you think I was gonna let you fuck me? I don't know where you’ve been, you fucking whore.” His eyes widen, liquid desire pooling in his irises. “I’m waiting,” you hiss, and he obeys unthinkingly.

His hands come greedily up to your waist, fumbling with the chain looped through your jeans. Finally, he pulls it free, unbuttoning your jeans and tugging them down your thighs. Seemingly unable to resist, he presses a kiss just above the waistband of your panties, and you clench your jaw against the shudder that runs through you at the contact. “God, you’re so fucking pretty,” Matty groans, tipping his head forward so his curls brush against your lower stomach.

“Get on with it,” you growl, shoving your panties as far down your legs as they’ll go. Matty stares unabashedly at your cunt, slick with the only evidence of your desire you can’t suppress. You gasp as his fingers find your clit deftly, rough and calloused over your swollen nerves.

Without warning, Matty grabs your hips and pulls you towards him, so forcefully that you stumble on your feet. His tongue swipes through your folds, a pitiful whimper falling from your lips, and he smirks up at you. “Taste so sweet, darling. Like a fucking peach.”

You roll your eyes, gripping his hair and dragging him back to your cunt, his tongue lapping deliciously over your clit. “Use that pretty mouth for something better than talking,” you snap, moaning softly as he obliges. Matty’s fingers dig into your hips, nails biting crescents of frantic desire into your skin. He laps at you starvingly, tongue-fucking you deep and fast, the punishing rhythm making you dizzy. Heart rolls up your spine, his name poison-sweet on your tongue as you grind your hips down against his mouth.

You fist a hand in his curls, tugging sharply, Matty’s answering moan reverberating through you. “God, you are a fucking slut,” you groan, pleasure swirling low in your belly. “Like that I’m hurting you, hm?”

“Uh-huh,” he moans, indistinct and muffled as the sound vibrates through you. Liquid desire drips down your spine, pooling between your legs and melting on Matty’s tongue, hungry and sure as he buries it deep inside you. He pulls away to suck on your clit, your legs turning jelly-like as a pulse of blinding ecstasy washes over you. You aren’t sure if the bare bulb in the dingy little bathroom is flickering or if your vision is going dim, lost in mind-wiping desire as Matty braces your hips to press his tongue even deeper into you.

Whining, you clench your cunt around his tongue, holding him in place as his fingers come up to play with your clit. You’re barrelling towards an earth-shattering end, twined with the intoxicating power of having Matty whimpering on his knees. “Think you’re so much better than me, huh?” you murmur. “This is where you belong, on your fuckin’ knees for me.” He clings to you like you’re a mirage, like you’ll dissipate and leave him if he lets go, hard and begging and alone with your taste lingering on his tongue.

He draws sloppy figure-eights on your clit, euphoria spreading in your limbs, burning up your blood as you moan his name into the liquor-laced air. Your fingers scramble for purchase against the poster-plastered walls, losing your grip on reality, your impending orgasm stealing the breath from your lungs. A string of honey-slick moans fall from your lips, one hand buried in Matty’s curls as you roll your hips down against his mouth. He makes out with your cunt messily, wantonly, like he’s been starved.

“I’m so close, Jesus fuck—” you cry, slapping a palm over your mouth to keep from screaming as Matty bites down gently on your clit, the flash of pain enough to tip you over the edge. You tumble into oblivion, pleasure burning so hot in your veins that you aren’t sure you have any blood left. Matty licks at you, sucks on your clit, fucks you with his tongue as your cunt flutters around him, swallowing every drop of your arousal as you come undone on his mouth.

Matty’s eager, fucked-out grin is the first thing you see when you come back to Earth, legs weak and skull throbbing. Mustering up your dignity, you sneer down at him like he hasn’t just given you probably the best orgasm of your life in a cramped, dirty bar bathroom. “Just because I let you eat me out, you think that means I’m just gonna put your filthy fucking dick in my mouth?” you scoff. Casually swinging a leg, the tip of your boot meets Matty’s clothed cock, not quite a kick, but not much of anything else either. A helpless little moan tumbles from his lips and you laugh condescendingly, tilting his chin up so he’s looking in your eyes.

He grinds down against your boot, power thrumming heady in your veins. “Baby, please,” he whimpers, the sound dizzying and gratifying.

“Pathetic,” you say, low and sweet. “Getting off on my shoe like a fuckin’ animal. Bet you’d let me do whatever I wanted, huh?” He nods frantically, desperate to please, his jaw coming compliantly open when you pull down. A thrill steals up your spine as a wad of spit lands on his tongue, chased by a bolt of desire when he swallows obediently. “Don’t come back out until you can fucking control yourself.”

You dress yourself, Matty still panting at your feet, his chin slick with your arousal, and slip back out of the bathroom. Like you’d predicted, your friends are too hammered to question your absence much, accepting your excuse of having gone for a smoke without question. The four of you laugh and sing and dance the rest of the night, Grace slipping away with Ross at a tasteful two a.m., you and Sabrina exchanging a knowing look at her lack of subtlety. At some point, Matty had joined you again, throwing you looks so venomous you’re a little scared.

Just as you’re calling it a night, you scrawl your number on a damp napkin and shove it into his pocket. “In case you’re ever after a rematch,” you say, low enough not to be overheard, and his answering smirk is wicked.

Sabrina sighs dramatically at his retreating back. “Hate to see ‘em go, love to watch ‘em leave.” You snort, shoving her playfully. “Alright, pay up. What did I say? Alone, or with you.”

Groaning, you dig in your wallet and slap a ten-pound note in her outstretched palm. “Alice, have I ever told you you’re my favourite?” Giggling, the three of you stumble out to the taxi rank, the sting of your loss almost forgotten against the heat still tingling between your thighs.

Matty doesn’t text you until the next evening, and you’ll take the grin that split your face at the sight of his message to your grave.

So about that rematch?

Don’t beg it’s pathetic

Had enough of that last night

You know where to find me when you’re ready to put up a real fight

You don’t hear from him for a little while after that, but something tells you the pair of you aren’t done yet. Or maybe that’s just his voice in your head while you bury your hand between your thighs.

Sabrina throws a house party for her twenty-first, because she’s still barred from every good club within ten miles for underage drinking. You’re a little tipsy, a little high, singing along to the CD spinning in the player and sipping a cocktail while you wait for everyone to arrive. The house is a sweaty, heaving mass of bodies by eleven, screaming drunk as you stumble onto the patio. You’re alone except for one other boy with his back to you, his silhouette blurred in the dark as you fish for your cigarettes, alcohol making your body uncoordinated and slow to obey direction.

Sliding one between your lips, you call out, “Have you got a light?” The boy turns, and your heart skips a painfully embarrassing beat. Matty smirks back at you, annoyingly gorgeous with a cigarette dangling from his lips, clad in a floral shirt and a worn leather jacket.

“Long time no see, darling,” he grins. “Was wonderin’ if I’d run into you.” It’s a fight to rein in your thoughts, running wild as want licks up your spine. It’s fucking Pavlovian, you tell yourself, getting off to the thought of him setting off some instinctual reaction to his presence.

“Been thinking about me a lot?” you tease, privately curious as to the answer.

He steps closer, and you try not to flinch. “Oh, I’ve been pulling the absolute cock off myself thinking about how you kicked me in the dick and left me on the fucking ground. Kind of scenario wet dreams are made of,” he snaps.

You laugh like he’s recalling a fond memory to hide the flush creeping up your cheeks at the image of him touching himself. “Oh, don’t be a baby. Shouldn’t have made it so satisfying to kick you in the dick, then.”

Matty flashes his teeth. “You were plenty satisfied already, if memory serves. Jesus fuck, I’m cumming, oh, God, Matty, fuck,” he taunts, putting on a high, breathy affect of your voice, taking another predatory step towards you. He breathes smoke out over your face, the grey cloud curling in front of your eyes, blurring the planes of his face and casting him in a hazy glow.

“You’re making me want to kick you in the dick again,” you threaten, but it lacks any edge, all the fight draining out of you as Matty lifts your hand to slip your forgotten cig between your lips. The touch sparks under your skin, stacked kindling waiting to catch alight, burn you up in the blaze.

“Breathe in,” Matty says quietly, leaning in to press the end of his cigarette against yours, the flame passing between you in a shared breath, smoke burning in your lungs as you draw the moment as long as possible, pulling it like elastic between your hands.

You blow out your smoke, twin exhales staining the air between you. “Kiss me,” you murmur, a breathy plea delivered from chapped lips, blackened lungs, through cold air into unreadable honey-brown eyes.

Matty takes a deep drag on his cigarette and flicks it away, taking your jaw in both hands while the smoke sits in his mouth. You try not to envy that it curls on his tongue, your lips parting instinctively for him as it pours from his mouth into yours. Your inhale is quick, perfunctory, an aside to what comes after you blow it out. His lips are soft, your bite mark healed now, moving against yours with what you could almost mistake as tenderness. His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing gently and pulling you flush against him.

When he slides his tongue into your mouth, you can’t help your relieved little moan, something cool and sharp and dangerous lodging itself in your ribcage. “Oh,” he says, delighted. “Missed me, have you?”

“If I say yes, will you fucking touch me?” you snap.

“So needy,” he croons, fingers skirting just below the hem of your skirt. “Wanna stay out here where anyone could see how needy you are for me?”

You stamp on his foot childishly. “If anyone ever finds out I let you touch me, I’ll kill you,” you say, the threat familiar on your tongue, a fraction of your control reigned back in.

Matty laughs. “You’d miss me too much.” You scoff. “Alright, let’s find somewhere to keep this secret, then.”

You practically drag him to Sabrina’s bedroom, and he raises an eyebrow. “If I tried shagging in one of my boys’ rooms, I wouldn’t live long enough for you to kill me,” he remarks.

“Oh, please. You think you’re the first guy I’ve ever fucked in here?” You don’t miss the way his grip tightens around your wrist, stiffening slightly. You don’t want to examine what that means.

He sits on the edge of her bed, legs spread and face expectant. “Your turn, love. On your knees, yeah?” You pause, and he laughs darkly. “Oh, you thought you were gonna get fucked?” he taunts, the words a mocking echo of your own, and you feel them like ice thawing in your spine. “Love, the first time I fuck you isn’t going to be in someone else’s bed at a house party. I wanna take my time with you, tear you to fucking pieces.” Your cunt pulses desperately, forcing you into obeisance even as you wear your disgust plainly on your face. “Oh, you want it bad, huh?” Matty murmurs, low and cruel as you unbuckle his belt and pull his cock free from his jeans. “Fuckin’ gagging for it, aren’t you? Go on, darling, get me hard.”

Your jaw falls open, saliva dripping from your tongue and trailing down his cock. You wrap a hand around him, his hips jolting at the contact. Pumping him slowly, his cock fills in your palm, precum sticky on your fingers when you dig your nail into his slit. You lean down, kitten-licking over the head, and he bucks his hips up with a gasp. “Someone’s eager,” you smirk, pushing his hips down with a smirk.

“Shut up before I shut you up,” he says, darkly threatening in a way that makes you believe him, arousal pooling between your legs.

Matty gathers your hair into a crude ponytail in one fist and you look up at him through your lashes. “If you push my head down, I’m biting your dick off,” you warn, lowering your head and wrapping your lips around his tip.

He moans, fighting not to thrust into the warmth of your mouth as your lips creep down his cock. “That’s it, baby. Go on, take it all. Take this filthy fucking dick. Good girl,” Matty croons, moaning as his cock bumps the back of your throat and you swallow a gag. You bob your head, inhaling deeply through your nose and trying to take all of him. Your nose meets his skin and you grin victoriously around his cock, sugary praise falling from his lips and his eyes fixed on you. “Look so pretty on your knees, baby. If you keep being good, I’ll let you swallow my cum,” he adds, and a bolt of lust strikes your core, tinged acrid with shame at letting him hold power over you.

You jam a hand between your legs, rutting wantonly against it, the friction hot as your clit grinds against the seam of your jeans through your panties. A moan spills out around Matty’s cock, the salt of him filling your mouth as he bucks his hips a little. Pulling up, you swallow around him, spit leaking from the corners of your mouth. Matty moans your name, the sound so sweet in your ears that you want to press it into a vinyl, layer it in the back of a song you can listen to over and over. A string of spit connects your skin as you pull away from him, sitting back on your knees to look in his eyes. “I changed my mind,” you say, the words spilling out before you can stop them, an unbidden admission from a hazy head and swollen lips. “Fuck my mouth.”

Groaning, Matty lets go of your hair and brushes it out of your face when it falls. “Fuck, love, are you sure?”

You smirk up at him, holding his gaze in challenge. “C’mon, Healy, you know you want to. Fucking ruin me, wreck my voice, make me cry,” you say. It’s a demand, not a plea, and he knows it. Knows that he’ll be giving you what you want, conceding territory in your battle, letting you knock a piece off the chessboard. But he wants. His hand tangles in your hair, his eyes closing as he moves like he doesn’t want to see himself capitulate. The sting in your scalp feels like victory, the ache in your jaw a triumph. Matty fucks your mouth with abandon, dragging your head and thrusting up to meet the back of your throat, moaning as you gag around him.

You’re helpless, your panties soaked with arousal and your cunt clenching around nothing. Pure, unadulterated need rises in you, needy whines slipping out around his cock while he fucks your face like a toy. “You getting off on being used like this?” he taunts, eyes lidded and face flushed. “Little slut. Not so fuckin’ mouthy now, huh? Such a fuckin’ bitch until you’re on your knees gaggin’ on my cock.” Lewd, wet sounds fill the room, his words pushing you to the precipice of submission threatening to overwhelm. You grind pathetically against your palm, desperate for more than the feeble embers flickering in your belly. “You wanna cum, darling?” he murmurs, lifting you off him, your breaths coming hard and heavy and impossibly loud in the sudden quiet.

“Please,” you whine, past the point of caring for your fractured dignity. “M’so wet, Matty, I need it so bad.”

“I shouldn’t let you,” he says musingly. “Not after what you pulled last time.” He grins, knocking your knees apart with one booted foot. “But I’m a gentleman. These, off,” he orders, kicking at your thigh to indicate your jeans. You scramble awkwardly out of them, kicking them into a pile of Sabrina’s clothes that you’re definitely going to pick up a new shirt from later. Matty presses his boot between your thigh, the pressure on your clit so glorious you swear you almost cum, a wave of pleasure knocking the breath from your lungs. “Go on, baby. Get off on my shoe like a fuckin’ animal,” he growls, your stolen words hitting you like a shock of ice water.

You hate yourself just a little as your hips roll, taking his cock in your mouth and moaning as he takes up his punishing rhythm. The lace of your panties is rough and scraping over your clit, pain and pleasure mingling in your belly and dripping on Matty’s shoe. Tension winds tight in your belly, a fist clenched so tight it almost breaks skin. Matty fucks your mouth messy and frenzied, his hand tight in your hair and your name sticking to his lips. It sounds like a curse, or maybe a prayer — is there a difference, if God doesn’t exist?

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum, darling, don’t stop,” Matty groans, head thrown back in rapture. You pull out every trick, swallowing and humming around him, swirling your tongue across his skin until he’s spilling in your mouth with a broken groan. “Fuck, yes, good girl, take it all,” he says. “My little cumdump,” he adds, the words striking at your core, pouring liquid heat directly over your nerves, achingly hot.

You pull off his cock with an obscene pop, opening your mouth to show off your painted-white tongue. A string of cum drips from your mouth, landing over his wet cock. You lap it up eagerly, Matty hissing at the contact to his sensitive skin. Your hips grind faster, cunt throbbing with need. With your mouth now freed, you whine out filthy pleas, tasting burning shame in the back of your throat. “Matty, please, I can’t—” you whimper, cut off when he grips your chin and forces your jaw shut, smirking meanly.

“You can, and you will. M’not gonna help you, baby. Can get off on my boot or not at all.” His cool, impassive tone is belayed by his flushed face, lips parted and eyes wide as he watches you grind pathetically against him. Pleasure coils under your skin, tangling with the burn of humiliation, your head thrown back and incoherent whines falling from your lips. “Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ wet dream,” Matty moans out, dragging you by the hair so your gaze falls back on him. “Pretty girl. Can’t wait to make you fall apart on my cock, shit.”

Your cunt throbs near-painfully, molten ecstasy turning your organs to liquid, your climax sweet and hot on the tip of your tongue. “M’so close,” you whimper, pleading little gasps stumbling from your lips. You grind your clit harshly against the tough leather of Matty’s shoe, fucking debasing yourself as you chase your orgasm. Digging your nails into his calf, you moan helplessly, gripping him like a lifeline as your head starts to float clear of your body. His eyes glitter triumphantly, holding all the power while reducing you to a pathetic, pleading mess grinding against his shoe.

Ecstasy swirls in your belly, dizzying. It’s thick in your lungs, stoppering your thoughts until all you know is Matty’s cruel little smirk, his lust-blown eyes, his shoe pressed against your cunt. Your final, last-ditch act of rebellion comes when the thread tethering you to your sanity finally snaps. You might have sunk low, lower than you ever thought you could, but you will not plead to cum on his shoe. That final thought circles as pleasure knocks you breathless, a keening wail ripping from your throat as your cunt pulses. Matty’s hand tightens in your hair as you cum, aching bliss coursing through your bloodstream. “Fuck,” you mumble, your legs weak as you crumple to the floor.

“That feel good?” Matty asks, flashing teeth.

“Fuck you,” you snap, painfully conscious of how little effect your words have when you’re on the floor below him, your cunt still pulsing with aftershocks.

“I will,” he says sweetly, and you groan.

Trying not to stagger, you get to your feet. “This,” you gesture in the air between you. “Means nothing, alright? As far as everyone we know is concerned, we can’t stand each other. In fact, I can’t stand you.”

“S’that why you got on your knees so fast?” Matty smirks, still leaning insouciantly on Sabrina’s bed. You scoff, disgusted with yourself, and turn to leave. “Might wanna clean yourself up, love,” he calls as you shove the door open. “You look like you just sucked a dick.”

You don’t realise that leaving was a concession until the door clicks shut and you catch his smirk before he disappears from view. Slipping into the miraculously empty bathroom, you realise he’s right; you do look like you’ve just sucked a dick. Your hair is wild, raked through and tangled, mascara running down your face and your lipstick smeared over your chin. The matching ring that must sit around the base of Matty’s cock makes you smirk to yourself, a tangible reminder of the encounter that he’ll have to work to remove.

You manage to tame your appearance and wander back downstairs, finding Sabrina and Alice deep in conversation with Matty and George. “There you are!” Sabrina gasps, loud enough to be heard over the screaming music and loud background chatter. “Thought you’d fucked off home. Was just telling the boys about our gig,” she grins. Oh, right. Your actual fucking gig, where you have to play your songs to a crowd of fans there for somebody else, and somehow hold their attention for an entire set. And you’d just stopped feeling fucking nauseous about it.

“Love, why didn’t you tell me?” Matty says, mocking in a way that only you can sense, prodding at a wound only he can see.

“Oh, please.” You pour yourself a strong drink and take a long sip before you continue. “I’d rather not spew over the front row seeing your ugly fucking mug in the crowd.” George snorts and Sabrina swats your arm.

“Don’t be a cowbag, it’s my birthday,” she scolds, eyes lighting up as they land on an undrunk bottle of tequila. “I know how to loosen you up a bit,” she grins, brandishing the bottle and digging in the fridge for a net bag of limes. “Body shots!” She spins around, wiggling her eyebrows, and you tip your head back with a groan.

She grabs a knife from the kitchen drawer and wobbles over to the counter to start chopping the limes, forcing you to your feet before she lands herself in A&E. “Calm down there, Ghostface,” you laugh, grabbing the knife before she can do any damage. Slicing the limes into neat wedges with bartender-practised ease, you grin at Sabrina and clamp a slice between your teeth. She brushes salt across the top of your tit, her tongue hot over your skin when she licks it up. The shot glass slams on the counter before you even register that she’s picked it up, her lips ghosting against yours as she bites into the flesh of the fruit, the juice spilling across your mouths.

You spit the rind to the floor and cup her jaw, melting into a passionate kiss like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Licking the taste of lime out of her mouth, one of your hands threads in her hair, and Ross whistles. “Fucking hell, are we interrupting something?”

Sabrina snorts. “If that’s got you blushing, the things we’ve done to each other would make your head spin, pretty boy.”

You risk a glance at Matty, rooted to the spot with eyes as wide as saucers, like he can’t believe what he just saw. Interesting. “Who’s next?” you crow, delivering the words as a deliberate taunt to him. “I’ll even take my top off, give you some more space to work with,” you grin, peeling off your top and gratuitously squeezing a tit.

“Do we get a snog, too?” George smirks, getting to his feet.

Sweeping your hair off your neck, you tilt your head and smile tantalisingly. “Only if you’re good.” Matty’s jaw clenches. Very interesting. Salt scrapes over your skin as George licks you clean, something molten and dangerous pooling in your core at Matty’s intense eye contact. George bites the lime out of your mouth and spits it to the floor, his lips finding yours waiting.

He’s a good kisser, his mouth sure and firm against yours, tongue brushing against your lips as he cups your jaw. Parting your lips for him, the sharp taste of lime lands on your tongue once again, George tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling slightly when he pulls away. Matty looks at you like you’re a future regret, like the narrative is written and he’s only stepping into his role when he comes towards you.

Ever overdramatic and impaired by liquor, you drape yourself over the table, lifting your head to grin up at him. Matty reaches for a shot glass, and you chide him, meeting his gaze in challenge. “C’mon, it’s called a body shot, after all,” you goad, and he swallows, gripping the neck of the tequila like a lifeline.

“You’re insane,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. The liquor is cold as he pours it into your belly button, splashing from his trembling hands. The muscles of your stomach twitch, contradictory heat pooling in your core as anticipation creeps under your skin. Salt pours between the valley of your tits, Matty cleaning it off eagerly as you fight not to squirm. You swallow a gasp as Matty sucks and licks the alcohol from your body, the feeling of his tongue swirling gratuitously against you falling straight to your cunt.

With a grimace, Matty straightens, leaning down to grip the lime between his teeth, sharp tartness soaking your bruised lips once again. You savour the sting, Matty’s eyes wide with desire as he leans in. The kiss is messy, all top lip and tongue as you lick the tequila out of his mouth, slowly sitting up and slinging your arms around his neck.

One of his hands tangles in your hair, the rest of the world melting away the longer you lose yourself in his kiss, reality tunnelling down to Matty’s skin on yours. He exhales regret against your lips, pulling away slowly and thumbing over your swollen lip. Fuck, that stings. Matty smirks like he can read your thoughts, like your pain is sweet on his lips.

“Jesus, get a room!” Sabrina scoffs, chucking a lime at your head that you don’t have the facilities to dodge. Matty goes red, wrenching his gaze away from you and fumbling for a cigarette before stumbling out of the room. Sabrina squints at the space he vacated. “Like, will the two of you just fuck already? Instead of subjecting us to whatever that was?”

You glare, folding your arms and screwing up your face as if you can’t think of anything worse. “Don’t be gross.”

Sabrina gets up, turning to face the room at large. “Right, show of hands. Who thinks she just needs to fuck Matty and get it over with.” Six hands go up, and you scowl. Okay, maybe you do want to fuck him, but does everybody need to know about it?

“Please,” groans George. “He’s insufferable when he gets like this about a girl.” He puts on a high effect of Matty’s voice, and you snort. “‘Oh, do you think she’s gonna be there? Will she like this shirt? Does my hair look pretty?’” You roll your eyes, praying the heat in your cheeks is indistinguishable from the flush of the alcohol.

“Ugh,” you say, forcing a shudder. “Get me checked for a brain tumour if I ever fall for that.” You grab the discarded bottle. “Anyway, I’m done being a shot glass. Someone else’s turn.”

Your head spins as you take shot after shot, licking salt from Sabrina’s neck, Ross’ chest, George’s belly. The passage of time slips from your grasp, and before you know it, the party’s mostly over. The last few stragglers are drifting out, Sabrina nowhere to be seen, having slipped upstairs with a girl you vaguely recognise from high school about half an hour ago. Probably shouldn’t tell her that she’s not gonna be the first (or even second) person to get off in her room tonight.

You end up crashing out on the couch, stripping out of your tight jeans and leaving them crumpled next to you — your shirt is long gone. Not a big deal, you can nab one of Sabrina’s in the morning. By some miracle, your headache in the morning is only mild, easily quelled with a glass of water and some painkillers. The house is still, the previous night lingering in sticky floors and plastic cups littering every surface.

One of Sabrina’s guitars is propped against the wall, and picking it up unlocks a vague memory of picking the beginnings of your first song on it, before you had one of your own. You smile fondly, lifting it into your lap and kicking one leg over the arm of the sofa. Your fingers move instinctively, coaxing out the melody you’ve been working on, repeating it over and over and groaning when the next notes just won’t come.

“You’re really good.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re still here?”

Matty shrugs, sloping into the chair next to you, seemingly indifferent to your matching states of undress. “Hann was designated driver, and he fucked off somewhere between the body shots and the karaoke,” he snorts. “Brina said I could stay.”

“Don’t call her Brina,” you snap. “You’re lucky she’s so nice. If it was up to me, you’d be in a ditch somewhere right now. Or flattened on the motorway. Wouldn’t that be nice…” you say, wistful as if you’re daydreaming about his viscera splattered across tarmac.

“You’re such a bitch.” It’s a compliment, you can tell, despite his derisive expression.

Not dignifying him with a response, your fingers creep across the strings, plucking out a familiar riff that you can’t quite place. Matty’s smug little grin flashes you back to the day you met, and you realise with disgust that you’re playing the first four notes of Robbers over and over. Your scowl silences the taunt on Matty’s lips. “Shut the fuck up and stop looking at me like that before I make you.”

Matty shudders, shifting in his chair. “You’re so mean. Who hurt you?”

“This conversation is hurting me. Talking to you feels like voluntarily hitting my own head with a brick.” Matty just smirks at you, conspicuously dropping his hands into his lap. “Oh, my god. Is this getting you hard?” you scoff.

An infuriating smirk creeps across Matty’s face “I can’t help it,” he says. “You’re hot when you’re mad at me.”

“I’m always fuckin’ mad at you.”

“Exactly.” His grin is filthy, legs spread wide as your eyes trail down to where his cock is straining against his boxers.

Still plucking idly at the guitar, you speak without looking at him. “Touch yourself for me,” you say, snorting as Matty chokes on his inhale.

He makes a spluttering little sound, and you don’t look up from the guitar in your lap. “Are you being serious? Here? Now?”

You shrug. “You don’t have to. But don’t pretend you don’t want to. Go on, give me a show. S’just about the only thing you’re good for.”

Matty moans, the resolve in his face visibly crumbling as you lift your gaze to meet his. His cock is flushed and dripping as he frees it from his boxers, throwing his head back with a groan. Heat creeps across your cheeks, the display of him obscene. Arousal clenches in your belly as your name spills involuntarily from his lips, cock disappearing into his fist as he strokes himself.

“Yeah, that’s it. Just like that,” you murmur, breathing slow and deep to keep yourself controlled. Matty’s moans are sweet and syrupy in your ear, low and melodic against your skin. Almost without your knowledge, your fingers dance across the guitar strings, pulling the next notes of your broken melody free instinctively as you watch him. “So pretty like this, baby. Know you can be louder than that. Let me hear you, yeah?”

Slick sounds fill the room, tangling with his moans flowing freely from his lips. Your cunt is dripping in your panties, pleading for attention as Matty fucks his fist, the guitar finally abandoned in your lap. Your hips shift needily against the sofa, the tiniest pulse of pleasure humming through you. “Come here,” he groans, the dominance in his tone sudden and intense.

“What did you just say?” you say, tone carrying a low threat that you don’t even think he notices.

“Can’t make a mess, can I? C’mere, come finish me off. Can see how fuckin’ needy you are from here, love.”

Carefully sliding the guitar off your lap, you stand so you’re towering over him. He gazes openly at your tits, cupped together in your bra, breath hot against your skin. “Who,” you say, voice gentle but full of steel, sliding a hand into his curls. “Do you think you’re talking to?” you demand, fisting your hand and dragging Matty’s eyes up to meet yours, his little pained whimper falling straight to your cunt. “You fucking piece of shit,” you scoff, lowering yourself into his lap. “Get your hands off.” He obeys with a whimper, and you laugh scornfully. God, he’s too fucking easy. “You fucking disgust me,” you murmur against his lips, low and reverent like you’re pouring praise against his mouth. “Who the fuck do you think you are, talkin’ to me like that?”

You tuck him back into his boxers, rolling your hips down and tipping your head back as pleasure runs through you. “M’sorry,I—” You press two fingers against his lips to silence him.

“Gonna let you get off like this. That way you’re only making a mess of yourself, yeah? Say thank you, baby.” Matty ruts his hips up against yours, hungry lips meeting your neck and greedy hands tangling in your hair.

“Th-thank you,” he stammers, breath shaky against your neck. Want pulses sickly in your belly, rising into your chest and squeezing hard as Matty bucks his hips. It doesn’t take long until your name pours free from his lips, tangled in moans and expletives, and he goes limp under you.

Despite your desperate cunt screaming out in protest, you climb off his lap and smile patronisingly down at him. “Fucking filthy,” you say, staring down at his soaked boxers and committing the sight of him to memory, chest flushed and heaving. “You can get dressed and get the fuck out, now. Hope nobody points out the cum stain.”

Matty gives you a look that’s pure loathing, tinged with needy lust, and you jerk your head at him as if to say go on. “Just you wait,” he mutters darkly. “Just you fucking wait. I’ll fucking wreck you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

You don’t see Matty face-to-face for a little while after that, but that doesn’t mean he stops plaguing you. A concerning number of your nights are spent with your phone on your pillow, listening to him moan in your ear as you fuck yourself on your fingers. You have to bite down on his name when you’re fucking other guys, the word bitter as you swallow it back down, longing to spill free. It only makes you hate him more.

You hadn’t thought he’d actually come see you play, but George and Ross’ silhouettes are unmistakeable in the crowd of fans screaming for the band you’re opening for. As is the head of dark curls next to them. Your heart catches in your throat, bleeding over your tongue as you step up to the mic stand. The lights shine into your eyes, adrenaline pumping and nerves jangling. You introduce yourself, introduce the band, the few scattered whoops not even making a dent against the unimpressed faces of the front row. George shoots you an encouraging grin, clapping over his head to make sure you see, and it soothes you a little; enough that your body loosens and you can coax your fingers into strumming on your guitar.

By the third song, you’ve relaxed into it, instinctive. Your hair is plastered to your forehead, jewellery tangled around your neck, sweating into your shirt. The crowd has warmed up a little, nodding their heads and swaying, even a few people singing your choruses back at you. You feel electric, a current zapping through you and echoing out of the speakers. Matty is transfixed, you can just about see — his gaze hasn’t left you for more than two seconds at a time since your set started. His thoughts are so plain on his face that you can practically hear them, filth pouring from him and pooling around you, warming your core and… Jesus. Focus.

Mentally dousing yourself in ice water, you lean close to the mic and catch Matty’s eyes. “This next song… I feel like it’s a story every girl knows. You’re at a bar, you’ve had a few drinks, and you’re lookin’ for a bit of fun, right? And you meet a boy and you think he could be the one, at least for tonight. Then he opens his mouth,” you pause as everyone laughs. “And he just won’t. Stop. Talking!” You launch into the song, unable to keep the grin off your face as Matty recognises the melody, the one you played while you watched him get himself off. The memory heats you from the inside out, identical film reels flickering in both your and Matty’s heads as your insides burn with desire.

Apparently, the song resonates with more than a few, the crowd and the cheers wilder with every song now you’ve finally attracted their attention. Disappointment twinges in your gut as you realise you’re onto the last song. “You guys have been fucking phenomenal tonight. You looking forward to the main event?” Obviously, the crowd cheers louder than they have for you all night. You try not to take it to heart, though. “Thank you guys so much for having us, seriously. You up for one more song? Yeah? Let’s fuckin’ go!” Adrenaline rushing to your head and inflating your ego, you grip the hem of your shirt and tug it up to your neck, soaking in the cheer that goes up as you show off your bare tits.

There’s only one reaction you care about, though, Matty’s jaw going slack and his gaze hot and heavy against your skin. The room melts away, the tension stringing between you a living thing that roots you to the spot. The fuse is lit and you know it, can’t stamp it out. All that’s left is to find out which of you ignites first.

You slip into the back of the crowd just before the main act starts, and immediately get suckered into a sweaty, congratulatory group hug from the boys. You don’t even push Matty off when he smacks a kiss at your temple, his low good fucking girl murmured in your ear making you shudder.

The band you opened for are a little stuck-up, but nice enough, so you take them up on their offer to celebrate after. Their frontman’s grin when he tells you to bring some friends, if you like tells you that he’s going to be very fucking disappointed, though, when the friends you bring are four blokes from a well-known local band instead of the girls he’s clearly imagining. His face falls when he sees them, pushing off to chat up a group of girls hovering around the bar.

Which leaves the eight of you in the now-familiar position of being crammed into a too-small booth, with you once again half on Matty’s lap. “Can’t believe you wrote a song about me. You’re too sweet, darling, you shouldn’t have.” he remarks, and you swing your heel back and laugh at his hiss when it connects with his shin.

“Oh, please. You think you’re the first good-looking asshole I’ve ever met in a bar? Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You think I'm good-looking?” He’s wearing a shit-eating grin, too comfortable pushing your buttons in public. You need to grind him beneath your heel, put him back in his fucking place.

You drop your hand under the table, tracing circles in his thigh and feeling the muscles tense under your touch. “And he’s got selective hearing, too. Who's surprised?”

His hips shift needily against your hand, squirming as he tries to force you into giving him what he wants. “Oh, come on, darling. We both know this only ends one way.” He’s full of shit, false bravado layered deliberately in his voice that you can see through like he’s wrapped in cellophane.

“In your dreams,” you bite out, pressing your hand against his cock in the same moment, kneading softly and watching blood rush into his cheeks as he swallows down a moan.

“Oh, every night, darling.”

Sabrina gags, breaking the two of you out of the bubble you’d been in, the hazy edges of your reality suddenly back in sharp focus. “Can you two stop being gross for two fucking seconds, please? For all our sakes?”

Rolling your eyes, you set your drink down on the table, dangerously close to the edge. “Oh, it’s my fault he’s fucking obsessed with me?” you scoff. “Read my fucking lips, Healy. Never. Gonna. Happen.”

You focus back into the conversation, relishing in the way Matty’s responses fall shorter and shorter as you tease, his voice going weak and breathy with barely-concealed need. With your free hand, you pull your phone out to type him a text.

i was fucking incredible on that stage today

hope youre ready for a long fucking night

not gonna stop unless you beg me.

Matty’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly as his gaze flickers across the screen, staring resolutely forward even as his hips shift and his cock fills under your palm. You slide your other hand under Matty’s jeans and boxers a moment later, his cock twitching needily in your palm. His knee jolts at the feeling of your hand against his bare skin, sending your full glass toppling over him, covering him in a sticky combination of soda and alcohol.

Withdrawing your hand, you gasp, turning and pretending to fuss over him. “Fuck’s sake, Matty, you- Oh, my God!” You give a spluttering laugh. Matty’s eyes go wide with fear, pleading with you as he correctly predicts your next words. “Do you have a boner?” you demand incredulously, pulling away from him in fake disgust. The table erupts into laughter, Matty’s face fire-engine red as his hands fall to his lap in a desperate attempt to preserve what’s left of his dignity. Oh, God, he looks so fucking good embarrassed like this, and it makes you squirm a little in your seat to know the humiliation is just turning him on more.

“He totally fucking does!” crows Sabrina, cackling and craning her neck for a better look.

“What’s got you all worked up, mate?” George taunts. “Been so long since you got your dick wet that you’re popping one from being next to a hot girl?”

“No,” Matty snaps. “I mean– I get my dick wet plenty, thank you very much. And I don’t have a boner,” he adds, attempting to push past you and escape. “I just— not feelin’ well. I should go.”

You elbow him harshly, and he winces, biting his tongue around a whine. “Aw, George, you think I’m– give me a second, sex pest, I’m having a conversation– you think I’m hot?”

He grins. “I think you’re a knockout, love. Hey, are you free tonight?”

You snort. “Not for you,” you shoot back, George holding his hand to his chest, mock-affronted. You finally take pity on Matty and let him out of the booth, surreptitiously sliding your hand into his pocket and dropping your spare key. Dramatic? Yes. A bit much? Maybe. But you’ve never claimed to be anything less. “I know it’s gonna be tough, but try not to stick your dick in anything that’ll cause permanent damage on the way home!” you can’t resist shouting at his retreating back. When he’s gone, you pull out your phone to text him your address.

go and wait for me, sit on your hands if you have to, but do not fucking touch yourself

if you’re good, i *might* let you cum tonight

do u want me to break in or something

check ur pocket

you’re insane

ill be home in an hour

can u behave until then?

He doesn’t answer, and you’re looking forward to finding out what that means. You stay for another two rounds, anticipation thrilling in your belly at the prospect of what (or rather, who) is waiting for you at home. Walking into your bedroom, you find Matty face-down on your bed and grinding desperately against your sheets, still fully-clothed as needy little whines slip from his lips. “God, you are just fucking pathetic, huh?” you murmur, your thighs clenching at the pretty picture he makes.

Matty gasps. “M’not touchin’, m’not touchin’,” he promises frantically, and you click your tongue.

“I know, baby. But that doesn’t look much like sitting on your hands, either,” you murmur, peeling out of your shirt and kicking off your jeans. “Couldn’t even be a good boy for me for an hour? Worthless little slut,” you scoff, and he whimpers in response. “Least you kept that pretty dick hard for me. Does that feel good? Grinding on my sheets like a little fucking whore?”

He whimpers, still face-down but not moving, like he won’t be able to control himself if he lays eyes on you. “Yes. M’sorry, feels good. Not as good as you. Didn’t mean to be bad, m’sorry,” he babbles, his desperation obvious.

“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” you order. Matty obeys instantly, a punched-out groan slipping from his lips as he takes in the sight of you, his eyes glued to the silver barbells glinting teasingly in your nipples. You snap the waistband of your panties against your waist, the action beckoning his gaze down your body. “D'you think I look pretty?” He nods furiously, but you cut him off before he can start lavishing you with praise, rolling your eyes condescendingly. “Didn’t wear it for you, before you start. Thought maybe I’d finally find some hot guy to take me home and fuck me like I deserve,” you hiss, climbing onto the bed next to him. Taking his jaw in your hand, you brush his curls out of his face. Matty shudders under your touch, pliant and needy as he melts into your palms. “Do you think you can fuck me like I deserve, Matty?”

His pride wars openly with desire in his face, eyes glassy as his tongue flickers out to wet his lips. “No,” he says finally, the admission ghosting feebly against your lips. He succumbs so sweetly that you press your lips against his, licking the taste of sugary surrender from his mouth.

“That’s what I thought. I could be getting fucked right now, you know. Could’ve had any man I wanted. But no. I get your whining, pathetic ass in my bed instead, fuckin’ rubbing yourself off on my sheets like a disgusting animal. S’bad enough that you’re making me do all the fucking work, least you could do is behave,” you snap, and Matty squirms, your cruel words rooting in his brain, digging claws tearing his every coherent thought to shreds.

“Can make you feel good, promise,” he whimpers. “Let me make you feel good, let me make it up to you, please,” Matty begs, reaching out to tug at the elastic of your waistband.

You slap his hand away, and he whines. “Behave. So greedy,” you chide. “Did I say you could touch me?”

“N-no.”

“Do you think you deserve to touch me?”

“I— no.” You grin, wide and predatory, and tug his shirt off over his head, running your hand down his slim, toned chest. Unbuckling his belt, you help him out of his jeans, the sticky, wet spot near the waistband of his boxers evident and growing.

You thumb over it gently, pressing the digit into Matty’s mouth as he moans and accepts it eagerly, swirling his tongue pornographically. “So fucking wet,” you murmur. “Needy little whore soaking his pants for me,” you tease. “Come here,” you order, sliding your panties down your legs, cool air kissing at your wet cunt. Matty scrambles to obey, laying between your legs and gazing up at you adoringly, seemingly unsure where to look as his eyes dart between your face, your nipple piercings catching the light, and your glistening cunt inches from his lips. “Go on. Beg for it. Beg for the privilege of touching me, of tasting me, of making me cum.”

“Fuck- fuck. Please let me get you off, sweetheart. Let me taste your pretty pussy, let me make you feel good, make you forget everything. Please just fuckin’ use me, I want— mmph!” You cut him off, pulling his face into your cunt by his hair, his pained little whimper spiralling deliciously through your body.

“Forgot how fucking annoying the sound of your voice is,” you groan, rolling your hips up against Matty’s face as he licks at your cunt like melting ice cream. “Put that mouth of yours to better use, hm?” You take his wrist in a punishing grip as he attempts to slide it up your thigh. “God, it’s like you don’t even want to cum. I never said you could touch me. Can make me cum with just your mouth or you can get up and walk out of here with nothing but that little problem between your legs, okay?”

Matty mumbles something that sounds vaguely agreeing into your cunt, pleasure coiling in your veins as Matty makes out with your hole sloppily. “Thank you s’much for lettin’ me… taste so fucking good, baby,” he moans, whining pitifully when you tug harshly on his curls.

“Don’t talk.” Your grip in his hair is punishing as he whimpers into your cunt, sucking and licking like a man starved. “God, such a fuckin’ slut, baby. You like it when I hurt you, hm?” His muffled moan of yes, fuckin’ love it vibrates through you, shivering pleasure ricocheting through every corner of your body. Matty sucks greedily on your clit, your hips bucking and legs kicking in the air.

It would be a lie to say knowing he’s getting off on the degradation doesn’t turn you on beyond belief. Your cunt pulses against his mouth, his tongue starving and wild over your clit. Matty tongue-fucks you, ravenous, his moans vibrating through your body deliciously. “Fuck,” you moan out, pulling hard on his curls to grind his face harder into your cunt. Heat thrums under your skin, biting your lip so hard you taste blood to swallow your moans. You must be suffocating him, his tongue buried deep in your cunt, but he just keeps going. A moan tears free, low and shameful, and he redoubles his efforts, swirling his tongue over your clit. You’re writhing under his attentions, dripping in his mouth as he starts tongue-fucking you at a dizzying pace. Tension pulls tight in your belly, close and electric under your skin as you clench around his tongue, Matty’s name spilling free from your mouth in a crazed entreaty, tugging on his hair just to feel his answering moan spiral through you.

His teeth scrape over your clit, the flash of pain finally tearing you loose from your body, ecstasy cascading over you as your cunt pulses against Matty’s mouth. He laps at your dripping cunt, bliss flooding against his tongue as your body wracks with sensation. “That’s right,” you groan, desire pulsing through you, leaking into the corners of your body with every thud of your wild, insistent heartbeat. “Fuckin’ swallow my cum. All of it. Yeah, just like that. Good boy.” The words only spur him on, cleaning you up with helpless enthusiasm, essentially locking himself into an impossible task. Every swipe of his tongue only serves to make you wetter, his moans stirring arousal that pools in his mouth. You pull him off you by his hair, tugging him up to meet you.

Matty grins, already hazy and fucked-out, his lips and chin soaking wet. You commit the sight to memory for a second, bruised lips and lidded eyes, your own personal, yielding little doll. “Thank you,” he says without prompting, and you grin. All it takes is a few sugared words, and he’s putty in your hands.

“Been such a good boy,” you croon, swiping your thumb across his mouth and sucking your own taste off your skin. “You wanna fuck me?”

A flash of something dances across his face, some aborted desire he’s not brave enough to voice dying on his tongue. “Yeah. I– yeah. I want that. Really bad. But… I might not… last, uh, very long. M’so fuckin’ hard, I just want–”

You prise open his jaw, silencing him as his eyes go wide. “Don’t push your luck. I’m letting you cum, ‘cause you’ve been such a good boy for me. Cum without my permission and I’ll make you wish you weren’t born,” you threaten lowly, spitting in his open mouth to seal your words.

He swallows eagerly, nodding hard. “Okay. Uh-huh, okay. M’sorry. Won’t cum, I swear.” You push him onto his back, staring impassively down at him as you straddle his waist. “Can you– I want– please,” he stammers, words tripping over themselves to escape his mouth as you laugh meanly down at him.

You dig your nails into his chest, anchoring yourself and scraping a mark into his skin. You start to trace your first initial, something droning and possessive buzzing in your ears, then think better of it. Slowly, you circle your hips, teasing the tip of his cock at your dripping hole. “You want me? Want me to fuck you like this?” Matty grasps needily at your hips, whimpering uncontrollable pleas into the thick, lust-drenched air of your room. He cries out as you slam your hips down, unable to stopper the moan that falls from your lips as your cunt stretches wide around him.

Grinding your clit against his stomach, you gasp as Matty thrusts up into you, fucking you impossibly deep. “Shit, Matty,” you hiss, pleasure pulsing under your skin. His gaze is fixed on your tits as you bounce on his cock, timed with his thrusts so he fills you as deep as possible. Running a hand up your body, you squeeze one of your tits, twisting the barbell just enough that it smarts a little, a pained gasp weaving effortlessly between your moans. You whine as Matty’s calloused fingers come up to circle roughly over your clit; sloppy like he can barely control his limbs. “Fuck, baby. You tryin’ to get me off faster so I don’t notice how quick you cum?” You grab his jaw so he can’t look away. “Pathetic.”

Matty doesn’t even speak, just moans helplessly as you ride him, rolling your hips and bouncing on him. Liquid heat pools in your veins, your thighs starting to burn and your heart pumping ecstasy into every nerve of your body. The slick sounds of your hips meeting echo off the walls, tangling with heavy breaths and wanton moans in a lurid melody you wish you could press to vinyl. Your nails dig into his shoulders so hard you break skin, leaving a tangible, lasting mark in the unblemished marble of his skin.

You circle your hips, head swimming with desire. Matty’s desperate little moans only turn you on more, his hips stuttering as he gets closer. Pleasure hums under your skin, a soft throb in the back of your skull and the base of your spine. Your thighs are beginning to burn with the effort, but you barely feel it as you fuck him harder, chasing your own release as it hangs tantalisingly out of reach. “You feel so good,” Matty whines, breathless and needy as he fucks up into you with abandon. His blunt nails dig into your hips, pulling you down to drive deeper into you. White spots dance in your vision, everything in your world going hazy but the point where Matty’s skin meets yours.

Pleasure courses up your spine in a sweet, sparkling arc, moans flowing freely as Matty’s fingers tease back over your swollen clit. “Fuck, feels so fuckin’ good,” you gasp. “Doin’ so well, baby. Gonna make me cum all over your cock, yeah?” He moans, rubbing tight, frantic circles at your clit. Tension coils tightly in your belly, the thread pulling taut until it finally snaps, arousal burning up your veins and flooding out against his skin, moaning helplessly as he keeps fucking into you. Dizzy, you fall forward, bracing your arms over Matty’s head and cunt pulsing around his cock. Matty’s lips close around your nipple, licking and sucking feverishly as you ride out your orgasm. “Shit,” you mutter, his other hand twisting your piercing as he groans, every motion tinged maniacal with need. “Did so well, Matty. You gonna cum for me? Go on, baby. Fuckin’ fill me up, yeah?”

Your words tip him over the edge, cock pulsing as he spills inside you, moaning your name around your tit. He gasps and whines, writhing helplessly under you. “God, feels so fuckin’ good,” he moans. “Thank you s’much,” he adds, smiling dopily up at you as you climb off him and test your weight on your feet before you stand. When you come back from cleaning yourself up, Matty’s dressed again, looking so miserable that you can’t help but take pity on him. “I’m goin’, don’t worry.”

You scoff. “Come back here.” Matty freezes, spinning on his heel so comically slowly that you stifle a giggle. “Jesus. I’m not evil. S’fucking freezing out there, I’m not making you trek back to fucking Wilmslow after that.” Matty just stares, and you roll your eyes. “Come back before I change my mind.”

Matty strips to his boxers embarrassingly fast, but you kind of don’t have it in you to tease when he slots himself sweetly into your arms. It’s almost… nice. Blech. “Did I do good?” he murmurs, his voice soft and sleep-thick.

You scratch your nails over his head and he hums happily. “Yeah, did so good, baby. Dunno what happened to all that shit you were talking about wrecking me, though. Kinda seemed like the other way around…” you tease.

He laughs softly. “I’ll get another chance. Gonna look so pretty crying on my cock, love.”

“Promises, promises,” you say, the muscles of his stomach tensing as you trace idle patterns in his skin. “Are you gonna keep them?”

“Piss me off enough and you’ll find out.”

Excitement thrills in your belly, the words sealing the two of you into some kind of promise, a brutal, delicious game of chess that you honestly couldn’t predict the winner in. “You know I will.”

#remember when i said this was gonna be shorter than white and gold #Whoops lol #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic #writing #smut #regret me

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