#matty healy
Text
it's going to be a long, long time - matty healy
[title is rocketman lyrics, has nothing to do with the fic but i was listening to elton john trying to figure out what to call this thing so i just went with this. once again thank you @abouttofillhisshoes for the beta reading, it is honestly an honour. oh and no, this is not the kidnapping fic.]
wc: ~8k
cw: fluff, reader has anxiety and body image issues, just really insecure over all, they are friends, matty is kinda horny, smut, he just gets her off with his fingers nothing crazy, dirty talk, matty cums in his pants <3
singularity series chapter 1
So Matty paid for the pizza and you hope he chokes on it. He can be so infuriating. You know what else is infuriating? Realising that you are enjoying his fucking company more than you should.
When the pizza arrived, he answered the door before you could, shoving the money at the teenager and telling him to keep the change before turning with an innocent smile to look at you where you were glaring at him from the couch. He then said if you were really upset about it, you could just pay for the food next time.
Next time.
You sat with a petulant glare at the TV, while Matty picked a movie, looking happy with himself when you didn’t argue about there being a next time where you would buy him dinner. He picked the movie Gremlins, which surprised you but also made you give him a suspicious squint. When you asked him why he picked it, he simply pointed at Loki, your dog, and then looked at you with a ‘well duh’ expression saying “Wasn’t that hard to put two and two together and realise you like that movie.”
…Okay so maybe it is your favourite movie of all time, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling him that.
Loki sat on the ground watching you, as you started to eat your pizza, staring at Matty like he was Romeo and Loki was a tubby slobbering love sick whore of a Juliet. You rolled your eyes when Matty tried to inconspicuously pick bits of meat off his pizza and drop them on the floor for him. Loki isn’t a quiet eater, he’s like a vacuum that makes wheezing pig noises every time he inhales but you decided not to say anything, smiling to yourself when Matty was basically eating a vegetarian pizza by the time Loki was done harassing him.
You were picking at your own pizza, following the same ritual you always do with eating all the topping first before you eat the base - it’s an old habit that you haven’t been able to kick, sometimes old rituals just stick, you know?
“OKay _ No, stop, stop. I can’t watch this any more - what are you doing?” Matty asks from his spot next to you, where he has sat far closer than he needs to. He’s glancing from your naked pizza slice, then to your face with an incredulous expression. You look at your pizza slice and then back to him. “Cleaning my butthole, what does it look like I’m doing?”
He rolls his eyes, wiping some sauce from the corner of his mouth away with his thumb before sucking it into his mouth and releasing it. “Idiot. Look, I was able to look past the pineapple on pizza thing - you psycho, but I can’t sit here and watch you eat the topping and then base like some lunatic.” You give him a blank stare so he continues his rant. “It’s like watching someone take a bite out of the middle of a burrito, or taking a bite out of a whole kitkat instead of breaking it apart. Were you raised by savages?”
You watch his face as you turn your empty pizza slice around, bringing it to your mouth and then take a bite out of the crust first and watch him look like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. “Some people just wanna watch the world burn, Matty.” You shrug, fighting the urge to cackle at his mouth hung open with wide mortified eyes.
“You’re gonna eat the rest of your pizza like that now, aren’t you?” He looks disgusted by the thought and you love it.
“Absolutely.” You agree without missing a beat and turn your face away to watch the TV again, ignoring Matty just staring at you while you continue to bastardize the simple act of eating a pizza. You continue to watch the movie, literally able to feel Matty’s disapproving stare on you. You can feel him cringe every time you bite into your pizza and can’t hide the amused look on your face.
“You know, you kinda remind me of a Mogwai.” Matty says all of the sudden sounding thoughtful, and you look sideways at him pausing your chewing.
“Why? Think if you feed me after midnight I’ll turn into a gremlin?”
You see that usual sly smirk on his lips. “No, I think if I got you wet, you’d surprise me.”
You drop your pizza into the box and whip your shocked face at him.
“Matty!”
He blows out a laugh that he was trying to hold in, and gives you a doe eyed coy look. “”What? I was gonna say you look like you’ve got strong legs, think you’d be a great swimmer.”
“Bullshit. That’s not what you meant and you know it.” You narrow your eyes at him, smacking his shoulder. Scrunching your lips up to not give him the satisfaction of a smile and it only makes him throw his head back giggling to himself.
As you continue to sit and watch the movie, you much preferred it when you were eating, having something to distract yourself and also do with your hands because now they’re just fidgeting in your lap which isn’t helped by Matty’s periodic stares at you. “You’ve got an interesting way of watching movies.” You dig at him with a dry tone, when his eyes are focused on the side of your face instead of the TV.
“You’ve got an interesting way of eating pizza, guess we all got our quirks.” He throws back, refusing to look away and you want to squirm on the spot with how anxious it is making you.
“Watch the movie, idiot.” You huff, barely being able to pay attention to what you’re seeing on the screen. Wanting to bite your tongue off when you accidentally glance at him and your eyes go to his mouth before snapping away. “Far more interested in what I’m watching right now, actually.” He says with a tilt of his head, and you close your eyes with a drawn out frustrated sigh.
He leans closer, barely keeping an inch between the side of your face and his nose, feeling his breath fan across your neck. You just keep your eyes planted firmly on the screen and dig your nails into the palms of your hands to soothe the way your heart nearly jumped out of your fucking body.
“You okay darling? Something you want?” He asks with a suggestive amused drawl that makes you clamp your teeth down on the inside of your cheek.
Don’t kiss his stupid face. Don’t kiss his stupid face. Don’t kiss his stupid face.
“I want you to watch the movie” You blurt with your voice hitching in your throat, which only makes him smile and look even more pleased with himself. He hums a disbelieving “Mm-Hmm.” But leans back, facing the TV again and you fight nearly throwing yourself off the couch when he shifts to lay down all of a sudden. He throws his feet up over the arm of the couch, laying on his back to pillow his head on your lap, lacing his fingers together on his chest and watches the TV with a casual expression.
“What are you doing?” You ask, hovering your hands above him with no idea where to put them, while he tries to hide his lips twitching up at the corners.
“Watching the movie like you told me to.”
You don’t know what to say, or what to do with your hands so you just stay rigid, swallowing down the dry feeling in your mouth and opt to rest your arms along the back of the couch to avoid touching him which only makes him grin.
There was a moment where Matty (you swear it was on purpose) moved one hand down to pull up the hem of his shirt over his stomach, acting like he had an itch he needed to scratch but then just left his hand on his exposed soft stomach and carved hips that his trousers had shifted dangerously low on. He rested his other arm hung above his head, the top of his arm rested against your thigh while his hand rested against the couch and his fingers made a habit of grazing against the side of your bare thigh occasionally.
By the time the movie was over your stomach was in that many knots you’d swear it was practising to be a sailor and your muscles ached in your body from how tense you had been the whole time. Matty acted completely oblivious to your distress, moving up off the couch and asked how he went about putting some music on and when you explained how to, you gave him a suspicious look when he put Elton John on from his phone to play through the Bluetooth speaker on the stereo. He came back to sit next to you, raising a brow. “Don’t act like you’re the only one with a good music taste, darling.”
You roll your eyes, but Matty just looks over your figure. “You seem tense. I want to try something, loosen you up a bit.” You look at him with panic flashing across your face, which makes him clarify what he means straight away. “I just meant to give you a head massage, I’m really good at them. Perks of all the years of shampooing hair with hairdressing, comes with the job.” You shake your head, leaning back. “Oh no, I’m good. I don’t like massages, let alone people touching me. It’s torture, not relaxing for me.”
You’d literally pay someone to not touch you if you could.
He pulls his lips to the side with a disbelieving look and tugs your hand again. “If you really don’t want me to touch you I won’t, but I’d like if you gave me a chance, I might surprise you.” You press your lips together in a flat line when he gives you the most pathetic begging puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. For fuck’s sake. “Fine. But I’m telling you right now, I’m going to hate it.” Matty’s solemn expression turns into a bright smile, and he gestures between his legs spread apart where he is sitting. “Just say the word and I will stop whenever you want. Come on, sit on the floor between my legs.”
You roll your eyes again. “Bet you’re gonna love that, getting me on the floor between your legs.” You sigh, pulling yourself forward up off the couch and moving to sit on the ground between his legs with your shoulders against the back of the couch and his knees either side of your head. “Doesn’t do much for me unless you’re on your knees darling.” He jabs back, and for some reason it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. It’s like you’re just becoming accustomed to his crass sense of humour. At least you think he was joking. Right?
“It’d be a cold day in hell before that happened.” You quip and hear him laugh under his breath as he starts to run his fingers through the tops of your hair to pull it back away from your face. You feel your muscles constrict when his long fingers slide into your hair up from the base of your neck. You’re fighting your natural instinct to recoil away, and panic over someone being this close. You don’t know how this anxiety is ever meant to feel good.
You still don’t rightfully know why you’re even letting him do this. You know the answer is deep buried down, you’re not stupid but you’re refusing to acknowledge it because it will tumble you off a cliff you’re not ready to go down. Far better keeping those doors closed. You’re just humouring him.
Matty stays silent, as his fingers begin to work against your scalp, massaging his fingers in slow motions as he moves up your head.
…Oh.
You’re shocked by the feeling, it’s like you had strings pulled taught on every limb in your body that have just been cut and your body slumps, and the more his long fingers work it starts sending waves of tingles sending down your spine. Goosebumps prickle over your skin, and your head lulls back while your eyes close. “Just relax.” He coos, keeping his voice soothing.
Well this doesn’t feel…terrible.
You feel like a lump doll, like all the tension in your body is melting away. You’re always tensing some part of your body every second, whether it’s subconsciously clenching your jaw, tensing your shoulders or clenching your fists, always on the edge. You can’t even say you truly know what the meaning of relaxation felt like, you just assumed you weren’t capable of it. But right now you feel like you could melt into the floor.
“Don’t you miss someone making you feel this good?” Matty doesn’t even sound like he is concentrating on what he’s saying.
“Can’t miss what you’ve never had, I guess.” You reply under your breath without thought, feeling your breathing shallow and you could literally moan at how incredible this feels.
It’s the truth though, it’s a large part about why you’re so complacent about sex. Sure it has felt okay but if you’re being totally honest, you really don’t think you’ve ever loved a single hand that’s touched you. It has never been about you enjoying it, it was about you being enjoyable for the other person.
Never about you or how you felt, it was always about them. Your pleasure only mattered if it benefited them but for the most part they wanted you to inflate their ego, not actually make you feel good. Could’ve won an oscar with some of your performances. And those were the times you actually wanted to have sex…the other times, hell, you may as well have not even been a person. How you felt certainly didn’t matter then, and what you wanted didn’t matter either. Matty’s fingers pause in your hair and it makes you slowly blink your eyes open, jumping when you see his face way closer to yours than you expected.
His pupils are blown out, with his lids hooding his eyes and his brows are pinched together as he darts his gaze over your face. There’s several emotions mixing together over his face that are confusing you, there is sadness, irritation and to be honest you don’t know if hungry is an emotion, but he looks like that too.
Matty’s fingers slip from your hair as he slides his hands to hold either side of your face, and he leans in closer, flicking his eyes between yours. It’s getting harder to breathe, it feels like everything else in the room has evaporated - you can’t even hear the music.
His tongue darts out to dampen his lower lip, and his voice is soft but low as he speaks.
“I could show you, you know…I could make you feel good, if you let me.”
Your chest tightens at the same time as your stomach jolts when he dips his head down to lean close enough that his nose nudges your chin. “Can’t stop thinking about it, to be honest.” He murmurs, hovering his mouth over yours but not going further. His long fingers are on the underside of your jaw, tilting your chin up more until there is barely a hairs width between your mouths and you can almost feel his lips touch yours as he speaks. Your heart doesn’t know whether to give up or beat a hundred miles an hour, it feels like it’s trying to do both and your breathing is so shallow you can barely feel it.
Matty takes the fact that you haven’t smacked him or yanked yourself away from him as a positive sign, because he nudges your lower lip with his own before murmuring “Dying to kiss you - but that’s up to you. Do you want to kiss me?”
Both sides of your brain are screaming at each other while your skin heats over your whole body.
Don’t do it, idiot.
Matty sighs, slipping his tongue out to ghost against your lower lip and every organ you have clenches while you ball your hands into fists. “Go on darling, do whatever you want..” He dares in a low whisper.
Don’t do it.
It’s a split second before you’re sucking in a breath and closing the fraction of a distance between you, pressing your lips against his, feeling completely out of your mind.
God dammit, you idiot.
As soon as the pressure of your lips touching his happens, Matty takes a firmer hold of your jaw, drawing in a sharp breath through his nose before he starts to mould his mouth against your own. His slow careful movements are quickly replaced with hard and needy ones that have you feeling like you’re spinning while you’re sat still.
The kiss only lasts a few seconds, then his mouth is being torn from yours while he grabs under your arms to pull you up to your knees, turning and tugging you until you’re crawling up onto him. But the second you were facing him again his lips were connecting with yours as you struggled to keep up. You’re not even thinking, your body is just doing whatever the fuck it feels like apparently. It’s almost like you’ve blacked out, mind going blank and all you can do is just feel.
He keeps pulling you towards him until your knees end up either side of his hips, panting out low moans into the kiss that just becomes more intense the second he taunts your lips with his tongue and you welcome it with your own. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, boiling your insides along with it while his hands roam around your body like he can’t decide where to put them. You’re still not sure what to do with your hands, so they just move up to hold his face. Gripping around his sharp jaw that tense and flexes with the movements of his mouth.
His large palms slide down your back, grope at your hips before they move lower and pause for a second, like he’s hesitating until he finally moves them to take large handfuls of the flesh there through your shorts. You gasp into the kiss when he pulls you down against him at the same time that he groans low in his throat, digging his fingers into your behind. All of these situations are firing through you, making you feel high and drunk at once as Matty deepens the kiss, becoming frantic with his lips and tongue while his breathing starts to heave in his chest.
The moment that changes this from just kissing though, is when he tugs you against him at the same time that he rolls his hips up into your centre, grunting out a sharp moan the second your centres press against each other. He repeats the action again, using his grip on your behind to rock me against him as he snaps his hips up, making your breath hitch in your throat. You felt the very distinct excitement that swelled hard and strained against the denim of his trousers.
Shit.
A jolt of electricity zaps up your spine and floods your nerves, like it wakes a part of you that’s been dead for years when you feel him but it’s also the moment that hits you like a freight train and your body becomes stiff. Matty notices as soon as your demeanour changes, and your body freezes up. He lets go of your behind to grab your hips and hold them still, lifting them up while he pulls his lips from yours, gasping in deep breaths but keeps his mouth close to yours.
“I’m sorry.” He pants, pinching his eyes shut like he’s in pain and swallows. “Sorry - I got carried away, are you okay?
You catch your breath and just watch his face for a moment. He actually stopped? And he’s asking if you’re okay. Okay? Why?
Well that’s never happened before.
You lick your lips that feel raw, and try to sort your thoughts out but you keep getting distracted by his fucking mouth so you decide to look down between you two.
Terrible idea.
Christ, you’re surprised the zipper to his jeans hasn’t exploded open, that looks like it hurts trapped in those tight trousers.
You whip your eyes back up, and Matty notices where you looked so he chews on the corner of his lip. “Sorry about that too - but I really can’t help that at the moment. Need you to talk to me though, you okay? Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to.”
You clear your throat and decide it’s easier to just look at his mouth than his eyes at the moment. You feel so fucking insecure right now.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable…that is kinda the problem.” You mumble, swallowing down your nerves. You don’t do honesty about your feelings well and you’re unsure how he has the ability to drag it out of you.
Matty ducks his face down trying to get you to look at him, keeping his voice soft but it’s hoarse in his throat. “Gonna need you to elaborate a bit, darling.”
You bite down on the inside of your cheek, and rest your hands against his chest. You feel his muscles there twitch and jump from the small contact and your insides do that weird flipping thing like they’re bloody gymnasts.
You take a deep breath, cursing yourself in your head at how stupid you think you sound. “It’s just - It’s been a long time for me with you know…sex, or anything like that in general and I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks, and most of that time I wanted to strangle you and now I’m kissing you. This is just really confusing for me, I enjoyed what was happening and I feel like I shouldn’t, sorry.”
A couple of weeks might be a long time to some people, and hardly any time for others.
Matty pauses to choose his words before he speaks, and brings his hand up to nudge his knuckle under your chin to force you to look at him. His face is earnest, but you don’t miss that giddy flicker in his eye but you’re not entirely sure why it’s there. “Look, I had no intention of trying to have sex with you tonight. I mean I really fucking want to right now, I’m just going to be honest about that. But I’m not a moron, I know that sort of thing is like…a sensitive topic for you and I’d never push you into that. I was just testing my luck with some kissing, I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand so fast.”
Your brows crease, unsure if you really buy that. “You really expect me to believe you weren’t going to pounce at the opportunity to have sex with me as soon as you had the chance?” Matty’s face falls, his lips pressing together as he leans back and sounds genuinely upset by your question. “Okay, first of all, you’re not an opportunity. And no, I wouldn't have. I don’t even have condoms on me - and I literally always have them on me. So even if you were the one that wanted to, I still would’ve said no.”
You look at your hands on his chest.
“You barely know me.”
“Time doesn’t equal value.” He states, trying to catch your eyes but you keep staring at your hands. “And you’re more valuable than you think.” He adds. He leans forward with his face washing over with that drunk look again and he darts his eyes to your lips. “Kiss me again?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea…I enjoy it too much. I don’t know if I could just kiss you, and then stop there? But I’m not ready to sleep with anyone yet.”
That almost feels like a bold face lie, because with how you felt a few minutes ago you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t want to sleep with him.
You feel Matty’s chest jump with a sharp breath while your heart is hammering again, you feel all your blood rush to your face and Matty pulls your hips down to rest against his thighs and he smooths his hands down to rub against your own thighs. There is a drawn out silence again, until he leans forward, ducking his head to your neck and presses a kiss there. “That is fine with me, but…”
He starts to drag his lips up to your neck and your head tilts involuntarily to give him more access to it, feeling your tummy knot each time his warm lips touch your skin as he murmurs against it.
“If you wanted to…There are a lot of other things we could do to make you feel good. Would you want that?” Regardless of how strongly you feel that this is a bad idea, and that you shouldn’t be doing this. But you dare anyone that’s been starved for years to have a mouth watering meal put in front of them, and not want to at least have a taste. Your subconscious is screaming at you over how stupid you’re being but you just can’t help it.
Matty sighs out a deep breath as his palms smooth up your thighs, his fingers grazing the insides of them while he kisses up to your jaw. “I’d be careful with you, we can stop whenever you want. Can I make you feel good?”
You swallow, breathing out a quiet “yes” while your eyes roll shut and Matty lets out an approving hum that sounds like a flustered mix of relief and excitement. He digs his fingers into your thighs to pull you forward again, dragging kisses from your jaw back to your mouth and nips at your lower lip which triggers you to connect your mouth with his again, savouring the feeling.
He breaks his lips away, only to nip and kiss at your lower lip between his words. “Tell me what you like.” He takes your lip between his teeth, to give it a gentle tug before releasing it and teases his tongue over it. “I’ll do whatever you like, just tell me.”
Matty waits for your answer but insecurity cripples you because you don’t know what to say because…well you Don’t know the answer.
You’ve had plenty of sexual experiences but it has never been about what you liked, you have never thought about it.
Matty pulls back at your hesitation and his brows crease. “Don’t be shy, you can tell me.”
“I-” You clear your throat, feeling flustered. “I can’t tell you because, well I don’t exactly know.” His brows scrunch even further in confusion and you shrug your shoulders. “No one has ever asked me that before.”
His expression falls with a sigh as he presses his lips into an annoyed flat line. “We need to have a serious talk about the kind of assholes you have been with, but we can do that later.” He taps his fingers on your thighs as an indicator for you to get up. “C’mon, hop up.”
You give him a confused look with your stomach dropping as you stand, thinking that the fact you told him that made him change his mind and not want to touch you. But he stands when you do, grasping your hand and starts to walk over to your bedroom, looking over his shoulders and notices the insecurity on your face which he matches with a soft and determined look. “You don’t know what you like, and we are going to do something about it. I’m gonna help you figure it out.”
Your eyes widen at how matter of fact he sounds, but he stops just as you were about to reach your door and you hear wheezing and trotting footsteps behind you. Matty looks behind you to see Loki following, then looks to your face, cocking his eyebrow. “I know you love that dog, but he can’t watch. Doubt he’s gonna wanna see what I’m doing to his girlfriend either. I think he has seen enough already.”
You give him a flat look and that makes him bite on his lip with a cheeky grin ,a look that makes you want to kiss him again instead of slapping him like it used to. You look at Loki and point to the couch. “Sorry baby, couch tonight - I’ll make it up to you, I promise - go on, off you go.” Loki huffs and whines, before turning and hanging his head, walking away with slow steps and you immediately feel terrible. Matty notices the guilty look on your face, and pulls on your hand, tugging you into the room and shutting the door behind you before you can protest.
As soon as the door clicks shut his hands are grabbing your face, crashing his lips into yours to kiss you that hard you would have fallen over if his hands didn’t immediately let go of your face and grab your hips instead, hoisting you up until your legs wrap around him and you speak in shock at the action. He walks towards the bed, stumbling while he tries to blindly find his way and you’re surprised you both made it without him tripping and eating shit hitting the ground while he turns and falls back onto the bed.
His mouth continues to attack yours while he moves your legs either side of his hips and grabs the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and only breaking the kiss to tear it up over his arms and head before he tosses it and latches his mouth to yours again. Both of your chests are heaving while the air in the room feels like it shoots to a thousand degrees, and Matty grabs your hands to place them on his bare warm chest before his own hands explore over your torso in greedy frantic touches.
His hips roll up underneath you, grinding his centre against yours with a whine in the back of his throat and you’d snap your legs together at the sound if you could. Holy shit.
His fingers grab at the hem of your shirt as he starts to tug it up but then pauses. “Is this okay? Can I take this off?” He checks, his words muffled against your lips. You’re nodding before you can stop yourself, mumbling an agreeing ‘mhm’ against his lips. Next thing you know the material is being pulled up and torn off you, thrown aimlessly and his hands go back exploring all of the new exposed skin that they can.
His lips kiss down your throat where he latches onto it, sucking at the spot above your collarbone with his ragged breathing hitting your skin. You whimper as he sucks and laps at the spot while his palms smooth up your back and his fingers stop at the back clasp of your bra. “Can I undo this?” He rasps, snapping the band of the back of your bra against your skin.
“Yes.”
He swallows as he continues to pant, dragging his warm tongue up your neck to your jaw as his fingers undo the clasp of your bra with impressive ease.
The material of your bra starts to slip from your body, and you gasp in surprise when his hands go to your shoulders, grabbing you and flipping you quicker than the crack of a whip and he’s hovering above you. He pauses looking down at you with his face flushed and unruly hair draped around his face, glancing to your bra laying loose over your chest and he takes hold of it, not taking his eyes away while he slips it down your arms and tucks his bottom lip under his teeth.
As soon as he drops your bra next to you on the bed your instinct is to cover your chest, looking away from him and you curse yourself for feeling so ashamed. Matty scolds out of breath, grasping your arms to pull them away. “Don’t hide yourself.”
You close your eyes when he removes your arms from in front of you, wishing it made you invisible. Matty curses under his breath and you don’t know if that’s good or bad. “Look at me, darling.” You keep your eyes closed and his voice becomes more stern. “Look. At. Me.”
You force your eyes open, sucking all the air you can into your lungs the second you see the look on his face, it’s enough to make you want to shrink back into the bed as he stares at you under his brows.
“I don’t know what the hell you think is wrong with your body…Because I can’t for the fucking life of me figure out a single problem with what I am looking at right now.” He says, slipping his palms higher. “Wanting to hide this” his fingers grope and knead at your skin as they go higher, and he gestures his face down referring to your bare torso “hiding this is just unacceptable.” He leans down, keeping his eyes on your face, kissing in between your sternum and then drags his lips up over your left breast with his breath heating your skin. “If I had it my way you’d never wear clothes again - I’m hooked now.”
You don’t know how something that was meant to be a compliment also sounded like a warning, but all you can do is watch helplessly while his mouth tastes and teases over your chest. You think you’re going to hyperventilate, you’ve never had something or someone be so damn intense.
To be fair, usually the sex would be over by now from your past experience. Very in and out, and over and done with. But he seems like he is in absolutely no rush at all.
He pulls away just after he kitten licks at your nipple making your back arch up, and crawls off of you to stand at the edge of the bed, keeping his starving eyes on you as they dart all over your body like they can’t decide where to stay and he starts to undo his jeans, tugging them down once they’re open.
He lets out a relieved groan, once they’re down past his hips which you’re assuming is from the lack of restriction he has now and you try not to look while he shuffles them down his legs to kick them off but the hard bulge, begging to get out of his boxers is hard to miss.
He brings his fingers up to push his hair away from his face and sighs, looking like he is in pain. “You’re making it very hard to have self control right now, darling.”
You just stare at him with your brows twitching together. You chew on your lip, not sure what you should say while your chest rises and falls in slow but harsh breaths.
Matty rubs his hands over his face, groaning a strained ‘fuck’ into his hands, before dropping them and stepping forward to hook his fingers under the material of your shorts, flicking his intense eyes up to yours. “Can I take these off? I want you to get under the covers after I do, if that’s okay.” You give him a shy nod and he gives you a warning look in return. “You’ve got a voice darling, use it.”
“It’s okay.” You blurt under your breath, your ovaries feeling like they strangle themselves over the stern demanding tone of his voice. His mood flips again as he smiles, holding his tongue between his teeth. Which looks far too adorable of an expression to have while he’s getting you naked and starts to pull your shorts down along with your underwear, but keeps his eyes on your face. You hold your breath when he slips them off your legs and then drops them on the floor next to the bed, gesturing his chin towards the pillows. “Under the covers.”
You will your body to move, shuffling up the bed as he watches your face and once you tug the covers back and climb under he moves to follow you. “You’re leaving those on?” You question, glancing to his boxers and have no idea where you got the guts to even ask that. Intimate moments are when you’re most insecure and not even your wit can save you. He slides into the bed next to you, nudging you to lay on your back and then urges you to roll on your side with your back facing him. “Trust me darling, much better for my self control if I leave these on this time.”
This time.
You scrunch your face up in confusion, but then jolt when he scoots up behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist and slotting your shoulders flush against his chest that radiates heat through your body. He rests his mouth near your ear and starts to trace patterns over your abdomen with his fingers “I know it was a lot letting me see you, so I thought we could try something else. I want you to be comfortable. I’m going to ask you some questions, you can answer however you want - there’s no wrong answer, however I need you to use your voice okay? Nodding isn’t going to work for me.” He says in a gentle tone, flattening his hand against your stomach. There is a strange tug in your chest, over how observant and thoughtful of that he was and how foreign it is that someone is being to attentive towards you.
“Okay.” You breathe, biting down on your lip so hard you nearly taste blood when he leans up and his mouth goes to your neck again. “Don’t be offended - but you’ve had an orgasm before right?” He asks in between slow kisses down your neck, making his way to your shoulder.
“Yes.”
You think one word answers are the best you’re going to be able to drag out, because you’re even struggling with just those. He lets out a thoughtful hum, nipping at your shoulder as his hand moves higher to massage over your breast. “Has anyone else ever made you come? Or just yourself? Be honest.”
“Just myself.”
“Thought as much.” He sighs in a mutter, sounding annoyed but not towards you, your answer just seemed to frustrate him but he doesn’t sound surprised. “So you’ve never came during sex? Or from someone else touching you? Ever?”
“No.” You clear your throat, deciding to add “Just assumed I was defective or something, because I couldn’t.”
Matty pauses and leans over to look at the side of your face, but you just stare at your wall in embarrassment. “There is nothing wrong with you? Understand me? If you can make yourself come, so can someone else. Whoever you’ve been with either didn’t know what the fuck they were doing, or didn’t deserve to touch you in the first place - the idiots never even stopped to ask what you like or find out - they are the fucking problem.”
His words are firm and direct, and you’re so used to his cheeky light nature that hearing him sound so harsh and serious makes your muscles tense. You don’t know why all of this has struck such a nerve with him, but he obviously feels very strongly about it. Could’ve done with the lecture when you weren’t butt ass naked though.
“Point taken. I don’t have a broken vagina, good pep talk.” You quip with your voice tight, and the tension from Matty’s speech breaks when a bright chuckle vibrates in his chest.
“Definitely don’t think it’s broken…Maybe a little neglected but not broken.” He teases, and you’re just about to fire back at him but he slides his hand down to grab your thigh to lift it, running his fingers up the area where your leg meets your groin. “Only one way to find out though.”
Your belly coils that tight you’re just about to choke, your muscles twitching when he tickles his fingers over your pubic bone. “Can I touch you?” You bite down on the inside of your cheek, hard. Your hips have the urge to shift forward of their own accord to encourage him, and you’re trying to adjust to constantly getting asked permission. The normal side of your brain would have been sarcastic, but the hormonal one is the part that murmurs a shy “yes”
That three letter word has Matty’s fingers ghosting down, making you grit your teeth when his careful fingertips drag a slow stroke between your folds, a deep long exhale leaving his mouth as he does. His fingers move back and forth, exploring every slick bit of skin he can and you feel him shift on the spot behind you like he’s trying to get comfortable. “Feels pretty perfect to me, darling.” He murmurs, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss to your jaw. “Just relax, I want you to do something for me.”
He removes his hand from in between your legs, taking your hand that you hadn’t even noticed was clamping onto the sheets and moves it down with his own. “I want you to take my hand and show me what you like, when you touch yourself. What feels best for you. Just place your hand on top of mine and move my fingers however you want.”
“Matty I can’t do that.” You stutter while you try to comprehend what he just said. You’re definitely not comfortable enough for that but he just tutts you. “Yes you can.” He dismisses, placing your hands between your legs and moves his fingers to rest against the sensitive spot that’s started to throb. “Just close your eyes, and breathe. You can do it, and I’m not moving my fingers until you do. It’s up to you.” He applies more pressure but keeps his fingers still and you cuss under your breath, squeezing your eyes closed.
How the fuck are you meant to cope with this?
“While you’re deciding…” Matty starts with a coy tone to his voice, still not moving his fingers that feel torturing at this point. “I’m pretty wrapped about the fact that I turn you on, feeling how soaked you are. Enjoy kissing me that much, do you?” You can’t answer, too distracted by the ache that’s getting worse between your legs. Matty just sounds amused now, and keeps talking with the smug expression evident in his voice. “What else turns you on, darling?”
You’re huffing out breaths through your nose fighting to keep your hips still, and Maty moves his lips to your ear. “What about dirty talk? That get you off? Let’s see if it does.” He drawls in a low voice that feels like it shivers down your spine at the drop of it. “Wanna know how much you turn me on, darling?” He breathes against your ear, his words slow and sound filthy enough from his tone, his hips press forward, his hard length clothed underneath his boxers circling against your behind and he moans. It has to be on fucking purpose with how drawn out it is, before he continues to speak. “You feel that. Rock fucking hard for you, and this is not the first time either.”
Does air exist? Because you can’t seem to find it.
“Know what I did last night?” He drags out, continuing to rock his hips against you while that ache between your legs makes you want to scream. While you try to shift your hips he is pinning you back against him to hold you still. “Just move my fingers love, you know what to do.” He taunts and you growl in frustration at the back of your throat which only makes him smile. “Now where was I? Oh yeah, last night..I had a shower, you know what I did while I was in there?” You try and stop the strangled moan that echoes in your throat when he circles his erection against your behind in slow hard movements but your body betrays you.
“Was thinking about you, thinking about how badly I wanted to kiss you.” He murmurs, moving his head to press a kiss to your shoulder. “And I got to fucking hard, I couldn’t even concentrate. So I wrapped my fingers around myself…leant my other hand against the wall and started to fuck my fist, started slow and got faster and faster the more I thought about you, what it would be like to touch you, have you in the shower with me, all the things we could do. And then you know what happened?”
You swear on your unborn children that you’re going to suffocate to death. You can’t even explain what is happening to your body at the moment, it feels like every ending nerve you have is screaming. Matty’s breathing gets heavier as he continues to grind himself against you, while his voice becomes thicker and he damn near moans his words out. “I came…really, really fucking hard. Could barely hold myself up, making filthy sounds I couldn’t control, felt so good darling, so fucking good.”
The image that is now burnt into your brain is going to fucking kill you, along with the sound of his voice. Your throat feels like it’s closing on itself and you can’t take this anymore so you suck in a sharp gasp and use every ounce of non-existent self confidence you have.
You grab his hand, placing yours over his and press his fingers against your aching nerves, whining at the relief when you start to move his fingertips in slow circles.
Matty’s lips pull into a grin against your shoulder, and he hums to himself. “Guess we can add dirty talk to the things that turn you on, then.”
You circle your hips back against his fingers whimpering at the feeling. This is mind numbing.
“You really enjoyed that, didn’t you? Matty coos, sounding breathless as his hips grind harder against you. “Didn’t know it was possible for you to get even wetter, making a mess of my fingers lovely girl.”
You’re going to have to get a priest to bless your showerhead, so you can cleanse yourself under the water for a week straight after listening to that filthy mouth of his.
You decide you’re not going to be the only one that’s a mess and push your behind back against his length as you start to work his fingers faster at the pressure and speed you know will unravel this painful knot in your gut the way you need it to. Matty grunts a low, guttural sound with a strained “Oh fuck” following it, and thrusts his centre hard against you, dropping his humid forehead against your shoulder. His fingers keep up the rhythm you have going, pushing me closer to that devastating feeling that’s making your stomach muscles start to tremble and you drop your hand away, unable to keep it there anymore and dig your nails into the mattress.
You haven’t even had a thought about what you should be doing, the sounds you should be making or how you should be reacting because that is all you used to do - making sure you were reacting the way the other person wanted but right now you can’t think of a god damn thing, all you’re doing is relishing how incredible this feels. His fingers continue to mimic the exact motions you showed him, playing your body like an instrument he mastered in minutes and you start to writhe against him while he grinds his centre against you like he’s consumed by his own movements.
“Oh god.” You gasp, your breath hitching in your throat. “Faster, please? I need - please go faster.” You beg sounding incoherent, you just need that last little push to unravel everything. Matty moves his face to hover over yours, and you barely recognise his voice with how low and hoarse it is. “You gonna come for me, lovely girl?”
You bite down hard on your lip, scrunching your eyes shut tighter with a sharp desperate nod and Matty nudges his nose against your cheek. “Kiss me- and I’ll go faster. I’ll make you feel so good I promise, darling just kiss me.”
Honestly he could’ve asked you to eat a shit sandwich at this point and you would have.
You turn your face, with his lips capturing yours as soon as they’re in reach and immediately the kiss is desperate. It’s wet tongues and careless lips while his fingers quicken against your sensitivity and he captures every single one of the choked moans that leave your throat. Every muscle in your body tenses as that coil in your abdomen unravels and pulses out from your lower half through your body in shock waves, spasming your nerves and constricting your stomach as it does while your hips thrust and roll to ride the feeling as it washes over you.
Matty’s fingers continue to drag the feeling out, pulling high pitched whimpers and strangled moans out of your chest while your kissing becomes uncoordinated until he stills his open mouth against yours as his hips jolt forward. He chokes out a whimpered “oh my fucking god” against your mouth, his own body jolting and trembling while his centre rolls against your arse until you feel a liquid warmth against your skin soaked into the fabric of his boxers.
You jolt your hips away when you become too sensitive from his fingers. Both of you are panting, with Matty’s forehead against your own and his long hair that’s become damp in places is tickling against your cheeks. He presses lazy kisses to your lips, sighing to himself and finally slips his hands from between your legs when your hips still, hugging his arm around your waist like he can’t get close enough to you.
“You feeling okay, darling?” He asks with a tired voice.
“Really good, good, I’m great.” You sigh, sounding groggy and you can’t string a sentence together. Orgasms are great. You’re so sleepy. Matty laughs under his breath at how spent you are, sounding pleased with himself.
“You know I haven’t came in my boxers since I was about 12, so thanks for the nostalgia.” He muses with a giggle. “You’re welcome.” You hum, half asleep and barely paying attention to what he is saying.
“I need to clean myself up before I fall asleep, but I kind of ruined my boxers…So you wouldn’t have any shorts I could sleep in, would you?” You hear the slightest hint of bashfulness in his voice. You smile to yourself.
“Yeah I do.”
#i hate this#the 1975#matty healy#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fanfic#matty healy x reader#matty healy x you#matty healy smut#every time i post i want to delete tumblr right after
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Twist around the lounge - George Daniel & Matty Healy
A/N: i've been writing since 10am also this is barely spellchecked @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff ur a legendary beta thank u for fixing the fuckass formatting xx
wc: 5k
content warnings: super gay, smut, fluff, kissing, power dynamics, fingering, handjobs, blowjobs, begging, teasing, threesome, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, so gay, pain kink, cumplay, sub! matty, switch(?)! george, shy G oh my god, they get high moments before they fuck so tw for that, allusions to pegging (i reckon that isn't even a warning but better be safe xx)
“What happened to ‘girls don’t roll their own spliffs?’” George comments as you drag your tongue along the paper, the question directed at Matty. You roll your eyes dramatically, holding your hand as George passes you the lighter and you flick it on, rotating for an even burn. Matty shakes his head from across you, adjusting his legs under him he wipes his thumb on the glass of the coffee table.
“There's some things I'm willing to give up.” he settles on a vague answer, eyes darting over your face as you chuckle at the implication. Your legs shift over George’s lap to a more comfortable position as you take the first drag, letting the smoke curl around you in pretty patterns.
Passing the lit spliff to Matty, you pick at your nails as you let the hazy sensation take over your body, though it's not quite as strong as you’d like.
A soft breeze from the open window kisses your skin and you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling. George lets his arms splay out on either side in a relaxed manner, sucking in a deep breath as he watches Matty inhale the smoke, his eyes drooping closed when it hits him, a lazy smile spreading onto his face.
Matty blows an O in your direction and you catch it like a kiss, shooting him a wink. Too distracted by you looking at him, Matty manages to fumble the spliff, letting it drop into the sliver of skin exposed by the mid-length black skirt he’s wearing.
“Fuck– shit, fucking bullshit-” he curses, brushing hot ash off his leg, hissing in discomfort.
“Hm, I thought you liked pain?” you joke, eyeing him up and down in a teasing manner, giggling quietly. George perks up slightly at your words, his eyes darting between you and Matty.
“Not like that, you know well enough the type I enjoy.” he breathes, wiping his fingers on his skirt to rid them of the black residue from the ash, going to take another drag.
You expect a fucked off groan from George, the typical annoyed expression you’re used to replaced by one of undeniable intrigue, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. Matty looks up, a bit confused at the lack of conversation, a heavy silence falling over the three of you. George runs an unsteady hand through his hair as Matty blows smoke, his eyes getting visibly redder as the seconds tick by.
The silence is broken by George’s deep voice, timid and unsure.
“What do you mean he likes… uhm- pain?” The end of his sentence is punctuated by an uncharacteristic voice crack, your eyes narrowing at the odd question. It takes a few seconds for the words to finally register as Matty hands George the spliff, their hands lingering in a way that could be labeled as more than platonic if you looked close enough.
The more you look, the faster the gears in your head turn. You can see a thousand thoughts running through Matty’s mind as George stares at both of you, a faint blush dusting his cheeks at the obscenity of the question. It finally clicks for Matty when he sees him looking at the bit of skin visible over the collar of his shirt, littered with multicolored hickeys and bite marks.
“Oh you know, just like….” you trail off, moving your legs from their position on George’s lap, sitting up in a more normal position.
“I like it when she pulls my hair.” Matty’s bluntness almost makes you cringe, but the feeling of embarrassment is curbed by the look on George’s face, his lips parted in surprise at the answer. The curly haired boy smirks at you mischievously, eyes flicking between you and George, waiting for one of you to answer.
“Oh, uhm– thats-” George stutters, his voice incredibly meek right before Matty cuts him off.
“Really fucking hot? Yeah, mate, you wouldn't believe.” your eyes widen at the conversation being held right now, and you try to gather your words to steer it away from whatever this was, hoping and praying Matty hadn't spooked George into never wanting to speak to either of you ever again.
“Yeah, it is.” George breathes, no stutter in sight as Matty watches his every move, acting accordingly. In what feels like a fraction of a second, you suddenly feel the weight of a body in your lap, and it takes a moment to realize its Matty, straddling you like George isn’t sitting two fucking feet away from you.
His lips catch yours in a searing hot kiss, all tongue and teeth as our mouths work against each other, quiet wet sound filling the space as you feel George’s eyes on you, shamelessly staring.
“See? I was right.” Matty murmurs against your lips, vaguely gesturing in the direction of an incredibly flustered George, his confidence unfaltering. You pull away for a few moments, cocking your head in confusion as you see him set the spliff down in the corner of your eye, bright pink ashtray glimmering in the dim light.
“Our little Georgie here,” he cuts himself off with another peck to your bruised lips before continuing. “likes to watch, don't you, love?” The pet name makes George visibly twitch, Matty’s sultry words evoking something primal in him, something he’d never felt before. You feel his hand trail down your chest, grazing over your nipples as he caresses your skin, his touch tantalizing. Turning your head slightly, you see a sight that will be ingrained into your frontal lobe until the day you die. Georges nods, confirming Matty’s suspicions and you gasp as curls brush under your jaw, hot lips pressed to your collarbones.
The energy in the room shifts dramatically as George makes a move towards the two of you. He opens his mouth to speak once, twice, until he finally manages to force a string of words out.
“W-what else–” Matty stops, turning towards him with a look of encouragement, nodding at the clearly nervous blonde.
“What else does she– does she do..?” The question is directed at Matty, his eyes avoiding you at all costs, too shy to even look at you properly.
“Fuck, she makes me hurt so good, m’dizzy even thinking ‘bout it.”
George's breath hitches and you can tell he's turned on by the way Matty moans the words, grinning maniacally at the both of you, this whole situation like a dream come true for him.
“See this?” Matty hooks his fingers into the collar of his shirt, pulling it down to reveal a myriad of bruises and marks, flaunting them to George. You can see a small part of him wish George would touch him, run the rough pads of his fingers over his pale skin, maybe even press down onto the fresh splotches of color.
“Got a bit too annoying so she put me in my place, marked me up all pretty.” Endless nights spent holding him down, murmuring into his ear, your mouth attached to his throat as he whines spin in your head, the memories going straight between your legs as you absentmindedly spread them, and action not going unnoticed by Matty.
“Fucking hell.” George mutters, entranced by the scene in front of him, trying to convince himself he was dreaming. You don't even notice how close he really is until Matty grabs the edge of his half unbuttoned shirt, smashing his lips against his. A startled gasp escapes George before he melts into the kiss and Matty moans, licking into his mouth at a dizzying pace.
Your heart beats against your ribcage when George threads his dominant hand into his curls, tugging experimentally. The action is tentative, unsure, but Matty’s wanton groan spurs him on, a sudden rush of confidence making him pull harder, earning more sounds from him. A high pitched moan spills from Matty’s lips as George slips his tongue past them, the sight pornographic as you watch them, eyes darting between the two men.
Letting out a groan of protest when Matty pulls away, you catch the beginnings of a smirk right before George presses his lips to yours, his stubble scratching along your chin roughly. It feels different yet so, so fucking good as he groans into your mouth.
“Fuck, that's so hot.” Matty breathes, running his fingers through his hair, still perched in your lap as George continues kissing you frantically, wanting to feel every inch of your lips.
You barely notice Matty sinking to his knees while George keeps you busy, your eyes screwed shut tightly as a carnal desire takes over your body, lighting every fiber of it aflame. Both of them can visibly see how worked up you are the moment Matty slides your shorts down your thighs, your hips lifting to help him out. There's a visible wet patch on the front of your panties, one that makes George gasp when he sees it, breaking the kiss.
“Oh, don't stop on my account.” Matty pouts, not liking this you-and-George-not-kissing turn of events. George catches your lips again, the kiss searing hot as his hand finds your jaw, his chest pressed up to the side of your body.
“Gorgeous, isn't she?” you giggle at Matty’s words, letting one of your hands thread through his hair as he mouths along your thigh, licking over your clothed cunt. His fingers play with the hem of the cotton, making you shiver at the coldness of his fingers against your skin.
“You should see him in a bit of silk, takes your fucking breath away.” you whisper to George, quietly wondering if he did have a pretty little number on under that skirt of his.
“Fuck, seriously?” George says, almost to himself, looking down and locking eyes with Matty. Matty rests his cheek on your thigh, his fingers slowly pushing the fabric of your panties to the side.
“Shame I didn't have time to prepare, would've even gotten those pretty little garters out. Love those, don't you?” You nod, smiling at George as the mental image flickers in front of his eyes, fantasies running wild in his mind.
You feel rough fingers against the skin of your stomach, and you realize what the blonde is hinting at.
“Can I..” he trails off before he can even finish his sentence and you nod, urging him to rid you of the unnecessary material. A choked gasp spills from his lips when he realizes the lack of bra under your top, his hands shamelessly groping your tits as you moan, fingers toying with your nipples meanly.
His mouth finds the space between your tits, leaving aggressive marks in his wake as Matty watches the scene in front of him unfold, licking his bottom lip. Matty’s fingers dip under your underwear, applying pressure to your clit making your hips buck upward, searching for more pleasure as Matty grins up from below you.
“Fuck– you’re so tight.” he murmurs as his digits sink into you, stroking against your walls at a dizzying pace, your head spinning at the blinding ecstasy.
A desperate moan escapes you as George feels you up, your chest looking eerily similar to Matty’s as your nails dig into the cushions of the sofa, your feeble attempt at grounding yourself. Matty presses soft kisses to the inside of your thigh as you writhe under his touch, sucking lightly and leaving similar marks to George, if not a bit less harsh.
“Matty, please– m’so close.” you whine, cut off by George’s lips against yours, all the oxygen in your lungs being knocked out of them in a split second, leaving you feeling weightless. Your vision is blurry as your orgasm approaches, the coil in your belly winding impossibly tight as Matty’s hand reaches up to graze your stomach reassuringly. A rough hand grabs yours and you open your eyes fully to realize it's George’s, smiling softly as Matty brings you to that delicious edge.
You cum with a whimper of his name, gripping the blonde’s hand so tightly you might've cut off the blood supply to his fingertips, pleasure washing over you in tidal waves, your hips unabashedly grinding down onto Matty’s fingers.
It takes a few minutes for you to properly come to, your chest heaving with effort as Matty kisses your thighs sweetly, gazing up into your eyes. A beat of silence passes between the three of you as you and Matty exchange silent conversation, George blinking rapidly at what he had just witnessed. He still felt like he was dreaming, his whole body floating above the mortal plane as you move to get up, Matty shuffling to the side to make his way between George’s legs, giving you space to do the same.
“You don't have to– I can just-” he stutters, so unsure of himself it's adorable, his face flushed a deep shade of red. You smile to yourself as Matty speaks, his confident tone having a visible effect on the boy above you.
“Do you want us to? Because I want you both so fucking bad.” Matty’s hands grope George's thighs, playing with the buckle of his belt cheekily as he peers up at him, his eyes dancing with desire.
“Let him take these off you, hm?” You trace your fingers over his stomach where his shirt had ridden up slightly, making him twitch. The movement reminds you of Matty, yet still starkly different.
“Yeah, okay– fuck.” he groans as delicate hands unbuckle his belt, the clinking of metal making your heart thrum in your chest in anticipation. Matty’s fingers start unbuttoning his jeans, stealing a glance at your face, signaling you to take over. George’s cock is hard, precum leaking from his tip as he strains against his grey boxers, a sight you commit to memory
Matty’s now free hands grip the back of your head, pulling you into a messy kiss, so clearly for show it makes your head spin at the mere implication that George was getting turned on from watching you. Your hand finds the front of George’s boxers, palming his cock through them as soft groans fill the room, his legs shaking at the sudden stimulation.
“So ready for us, hm? Should've done this earlier if it got me that.” Matty gestures to the blonde's face, scrunched up in ecstasy as you take him out of the confines of his underwear, fisting the base of his cock. Settling into a more comfortable position on your knees, you take the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it as George gasps, screwing his eyes shut in pleasure.
Matty takes the few spare seconds to grab at the hem of his shirt, sliding it off of him to reveal his bare chest, glistening with sweat and adorned in tattoos. The sight of him half naked never ceases to make you stutter, the low rise of his skirt only adding to the inherent erotic energy surrounding him.
It takes effort to take all of him into your mouth, Matty watching intently as you choke, sputtering on his cock with spit dribbling down your chin obscenely.
“Look how well she’s taking you, feels so fucking good I bet.” Matty reaches down to touch himself to the scene in front of him, letting his face fall onto one of George's thighs. Soft whimpers and moans spill from his lips, barely audible over George’s masculine groans, the juxtaposition making you feel lightheaded as one of his hands finds its way to the top of your head, resting there.
“Please– fuck, feels so good. Keep doing tha- ohhh shit, fuck.” The head of his cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag. Matty presses an encouraging hand to your lower back. One glance up makes your breath hitch. George isn’t looking at you, but at Matty, his hand disappearing under the waistband of his velvety skirt, squeezing himself through his underwear. The air is charged with lust, the eye contact between the two men so intense you can feel it in your bones.
Matty’s eyes are glazed over with desperation, the sight of you getting George off fulfilling every fantasy he’s ever had. He’s sure nothing could ever top this, silently begging this wouldn't be the last time it would happen. Matty brushes strands of hair out of your face, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek as you deepthroat George, tears threatening to spill at the effort.
You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, a low groan following as his hand goes slack in your hair, his hips bucking involuntarily. Sincere apologies spill from his lips and you pull off him, wiping your mouth and assuring him everything was alright, offering him a sickeningly sweet smile like you didn't just have his cock down your throat.
“Make him cum, darling, I wanna see him cum– shit.” Matty whines, eyes begging you. You nod, a smirk spreading onto your face as you take George back into your mouth, his immediate groans of pleasure letting you know just how close he really is. Matty watches as you manage to not gag, making George throw his head back in ecstasy, moaning your name like a prayer.
The thing that finally does him in? Matty’s hand grazing over the skin of his arm, making him spill into your mouth with a cry, the musky taste of his cum filling your senses. George shakes, actually shakes at the force of his orgasm, hair sticking to his forehead. An idea pops into your head moments before you swallow, and you turn your head to Matty, tapping his bottom lip with your index finger.
Matty’s eyes widen as he realizes what you want to do, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he opens it. You let cum drop into his mouth, some of it missing and hitting his lips, a pornographic moan ripping itself from Matty’s throat at the salty, distinct taste of George.
“Love tasting you on my tongue, shit.” Matty mutters at George, growing impossibly harder at the eroticism of it all, his cock visibly tenting his skirt.
You lick a stripe up the side of his neck, bringing your wet lips to his ear and whispering into it.
“Get up on the sofa for me baby, let's get you off.” you speak, your words sultry and coated with thick honey, making both Matty and George shiver.
The curly haired boy nods frantically at your request, scrambling up to find his seat next to George, still panting from his recent orgasm, and the proximity to Matty definitely not helping his current state. You let out a sigh Matty knows all too well, searching your expression to decode what you really meant. It clicks for him when your eyes flicker over to George’s lap, grinning wildly as he clocks it, draping one of his legs over George in a heartbeat.
Using his body weight to hoist himself to a sitting position, he relishes in the surprised sounds George makes, stuttering over his words while trying to process the events unfolding. Something shifts when Matty makes direct eye contact with him, that sight probably the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.
“God, you’re so pretty.” George mutters, his lips inches away from Matty’s as they both breathe heavily.
“He is, isn't he?” you grin, your thoughts running wild as your eyes dart around the space, your breath hitching when they land on the discarded leather belt right in front of you, innocent and unassuming.
Matty is the one who initiates the kiss, immediately taking George’s bottom lip between his teeth, biting down meanly as the blonde gasps into his mouth, pupils completely blown out. Both of them are completely breathless, too caught up in each other to notice you get up and circle around to stand behind Matty, leather in hand.
Matty’s eyes fly open when he feels you grab his arms suddenly, the belt clamped between your teeth as you pull them back, a small yelp spilling from his lips. George notices your movements, knitting his eyebrows in confusion before he realizes that you’re restraining him, the thought making his heart race. The metal clinking is deafeningly loud as his movement is restricted, a high-pitched whine leaving Matty.
“He loves this, look at how hard he is.” you say, your lips pressed to George’s ear as Matty’s hips twitch, bucking up against nothing, desperate for any kind of friction. He’s been hard for the better part of an hour now, watching and talking but never getting off. You see George hesitate, his hand ghosting over the bulge under his skirt while Matty yearns for his touch, eyes pleading with both of you simultaneously.
“Touch him baby, promise he doesn't bite.” you coo, letting your fingers linger on the leather, tracing the small designs of the belt.
“Unless you want me to.” he bites his lip at George, earning a chuckle from both you and him. The lip bite, despite being ironic, still made something in you stir.
“I don’t know how– i’ve never-” George whispers, deathly afraid of messing up, afraid of ruining this perfect moment.
“It's alright love, just–” Matty speaks, cocking his head in a sweet manner as George looks at him, red dusting his otherwise pale cheeks.
“Do what you do to yourself when you’re alone, yeah?” Matty reassures him, writhing against the restraints as George tentatively palms his cock over the velvety material.
The thought of George getting himself off is something you file away for later, the mental imagine making the heat between your legs grow exponentially, and you squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of that pressure.
“Ah, fuck.” Matty whimpers, and you see the blonde flipping the fabric of his skirt up against his stomach, the clothing bunching up at his waist.
“Look how much he wants you, basically begging for you to get him off.” you speak slowly, drinking in the scene in front of you with a primal hunger, the bulge in Matty’s boxers adorned with a wet patch on the front of them.
“So responsive, isn’t he?”
Matty whimpers as George finally reaches into his boxers, taking him out and wrapping a hand around his leaking cock, beads of precum bubbling at the tip. George mirrors the movements he uses on himself, eyes searching the other boy’s expression for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he’s met with a blissed out Matty, face contorting in pleasure as George’s hand works him, using his precum as lube.
“Hear that?” you speak, taking in Matty writhing against George, wet lips parted as his eyes droop shut in ecstasy, wanton whines filling the room. You can see abandoned spliff in the ashtray across from you, last remnants of smoke curling in the air as the weed goes to waste, reminding you of how this situation even came to be.
“Those are the same noises he makes when I fuck him.” Your inflection makes the sentence all the more erotic as George stares at both of you wide-eyed, scenes playing out in his mind like a film.
“Y-you-” He stutters and you nod, Matty’s face flushing in a way you don't quite recognise. He’s embarrassed. A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as you realize this, finally finding his Achilles heel. That spot was George.
“Yeah, and he takes it, takes whatever I give him. He’ll take whatever you give him, too.” A choked whine leaves Matty’s lips as you speak about him like he isnt even there. He leans forward, resting his cheek in the crook of George’s neck as he makes eye contact with you, fucking panting like a dog in heat.
“Shit, your hand feels so fucking good.” Matty whimpers, his cock twitching in George's grip as he speeds up his movements, basking in the curly haired boy's praise. Sweat makes Matty’s curls stick to his forehead, his bare chest glistening in the dim light of the living room. You watch as George gets him off, so blatantly turned on by the boy in his lap that it's genuinely laughable.
“Let me see you, wanna see your pretty face.” George mutters against Matty’s hair, catching you both by surprise. Matty pulls back, a clear look of arousal at the boy’s words, his lips parted in a way that shows you he’s so, so close to the edge it's physically painful for him.
“Make me cum, please– i’m so fucking close, feels so good, G, fuckk.” Matty braces himself as you trail your fingers up and down his spine, shivers blooming through his whole body as his orgasm rushes at him full throttle. George’s hand squeezes his cock roughly, the slight note of pain sending white-hot pleasure straight to Matty’s lower half, making him moan desperately as George murmurs against his jaw.
The audible sounds of frustration as Matty pulls at the belt restraining his arms is incredibly hot, your tongue darting out to lick a stripe along his throat as he gasps, the stimulation feeling like pure heaven
“That's it, baby, let go for us, doing so well.” George groans, his commanding tone of voice sending Matty hurling over the edge, his orgasm crashing over him so violently tears start to stream down his face as he cums all over George’s stomach and his own, panting their skin as you watch, a soft noise slipping past your lips.
George works Matty through his high, watching every reaction, expression, and movement he offers him, his hand steadily slowing down as Matty’s full body twitches subside, high.pitched pants and whines spilling from his lips as he closes his eyes, basking in the afterglow.
“Fuck- that was.”
“The hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” You smirk, finishing his sentence for him with a cheeky wink. It takes a few beats for George to fully come down from his power trip, eyes darting between you and Matty as he registers the compromising position he is currently in. You notice his slight panic, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, acting as his tether to reality.
“Is this going to happen again?” The question is heavy on the three of you for a moment, but eye contact with Matty tells you he already has an answer.
“Do you want it to?” Though he is still restrained, Matty is as cocky as ever, raising his eyebrows at George in a teasing manner. You watch as George gathers his words, your heart thrumming against your ribcage in anticipation.
“That depends,” George says, sounding confident.
“Depends on what?” Matty cocks his head and you mirror the movement, equally as confused at his statement. The curly haired boy is still out of breath, his panting ruining the calm and collected demeanor he tries so desperately to portray.
“Depends if you take it as well as she says you do.” he gestures to you, your smirk growing as Matty flushes a deep shade of crimson, squirming under George’s touch as he rests his hands on his velvet covered hips. You chuckle quietly before answering, making deliberate eye contact with George and George only.
“Oh trust me, my sweet G, he does.”
#hi guys#this is what ive been building up to all day xx#clap.#nah im jokes just#enjoy if u want!!!!#this is a gatty wet dream if u cant tell#dont like dont read!!!#the 1975#matty healy#george daniel#matty healy fanfiction#george daniel fanfiction#matty healy x george daniel#mpind matty#mpind george#matty healy smut#george daniel smut#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fanfiction#drive like i do#gatty fic#gatty smut#george daniel x matty healy x you#george daniel x reader#matty healy x reader#the 1975 x reader
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pink in the night - matty healy. part four.
you join the 1975 on tour as an actress starring in the narrative portion of at their very best alongside the lead singer, matty healy. he’s got big ideas and wants to redefine what a concert is, blurring the lines between fiction and reality. on stage together each night, it starts to feel less and less like acting. but is it the same for him?
masterlist.
cw: drug use, smoking, blood
wc: 4.6k
—
Boston
“This is a good one." George pops a candy into his mouth before continuing.
"Do not go with your dad to the 1975’s new tour I repeat do not go with your dad Matty pulls on a girls hair and kisses her all weird IT WILL BE VERY AWKWARD.” He's laughing so hard he struggles to get the sentence out as he reads it off his phone.
“Hey, I do not kiss weird! Gimme that-“ Matty reaches across the tour bus to try and pull the phone out of George’s hand, who swats him away.
Ross finds another tweet while Matty is distracted. “No, no, this one is even better: Matty I know you made this show to prove you know what you’re doing but it won’t work I see you for the virgin that you are." He laughs, shaking his head. "They keep you so humble.”
“What is this, The Bully Matty Show? Jesus Christ." Matty scoffs to an audience of laughter.
He turns around to you, eyes wide. "You gonna defend our show to these knobs, or what?"
You smile, lips pursed and shaking your head. "Nah, I'm good. This is too entertaining." He scoffs, and turns around.
"They aren't saying anything bad about her, you know. Just you," George snickers, pointing towards him with his thumb.
"Well deserved," Adam quips from the corner.
"Oh fuck off, Hann!" Matty says to a round of laughter.
Ross pipes up again. "Wait, wait, wait, this one's the best: I found the girl's height online, has to be inaccurate because we know Matty is 5'7", she can't be shorter,"
"5'7"?" Matty nearly shouts, incredulous. He crosses his hands and sits back on the couch beside you. "They keep bloody lowering it," he grumbles.
You nudge him with your elbow and he turns to face you. "Should I tweet that I'm actually 5'0 tall in real life? Then they'll say you're, what, 5'4"?" you ask with a cheeky smile on your face.
"Don't you even dare." His grimness makes you laugh, bringing your hand to your face to muffle it.
New York City
You’ve never experienced anything like this before. As you walk through the club with Polly, people come up to you left and right, complimenting your performance and asking for photos. Your mind is a blur as you push through the crowd, moving against the unidentifiable bodies. A voice you can’t locate the body of shouts, “Amazing show!” along with your name. Your on a high, the alcohol, adrenaline, and compliments mixing through your veins and puppetering you through the club as your mind gets hazy. The music is just a blur in the back of your mind as you round a corner too get off the dance floor.
You reach the stage from the side, where one of the Ion Pack guys whose name you feel bad about not remembering gives you a hug. You can’t really hear what he is saying over the pounding bass, but you nod. You're drunk and overwhelmed, you can't bring yourself to do much more. It seems to suffice as he continues past you, patting you on the back with a smile.
You walk towards George and Matty, the former of which is operating the DJ booth as the latter dances and shouts something in the others ear. George laughs as Matty continues to dance, and fiddles with some of the knobs in front of him.
When Matty notices you, he pulls you into a hug that subsequently causes the audience to cheer. The reaction makes your head spin a little, your stomach churn. These people know you now. This is just another part of the show for them, more content.
“How do you handle this?” you ask into his ear.
He pulls back. “Handle what, the club?” he asks, confused.
“All the attention. Just tonight alone has made me go a bit mental.” You rub at your eyes. "I don't really know how to think about all of it, all of this," you gesture to the crowd, many of whom are watching to two of you speak, wishing they could hear the words exchanged.
He thinks for a moment. “It never gets easy, I’ll say. But you get used to it. Besides, it was just a long time coming for you, I’ll tell you that much. Well deserved. And you've got me with you the whole time, darling. I promise.” He has to shout to have it heard over the music, but the sentiment rings softly within you.
How does he always manage to do this, make you unravel with just a few unsuspecting words? He stares at you as you continue to think, overwhelmed by his presence combined with everything in the club. You’re not sure how he’s not sweating under the leather jacket he’s got on. You realize he’s started talking again, the overstimulation warping your senses.
He rubs your arm, a comforting smile on his face. "Don’t stress yourself out, love. I can practically hear you thinking.” You hope to god that he can’t. All your thoughts lead back to him, anyways.
Camden
Matty makes you promise to a signal.
"I won't deviate from the script if you won't agree to this. You won't win, love." He says, sipping his pint.
You know he would never do something that would cross your lines, make you uncomfortable. Whether that is on or off stage. He's staring at you from his position across the table, fingers rattling against the surface. The whole band is at a bar, enjoying the calmer night before the show tomorrow. The afterparties have been fun, sure, letting off the adrenaline in a blur of alcohol and dancing against bodies you can't place the identity of. But sitting with everyone in a bar not too far from your hotel and yelling over the music at each other until your voices go hoarse is your favourite way to spend the downtime.
You sigh, thinking. "Fine. I'll, uh, I'll blink three times rapidly if I want you to stop something. That good?" you acquiesce.
Matty's pleased. The alcohol inflates the level of victory, you can see it in his eyes. You can't let the feeling last too long. The shots you did affect you too, loosening the filter between your mind and your mouth. An idea floats through your tipsy head, and against your better judgement, you begin to speak.
"There's nothing you could do that would rattle me though, so don't be looking to hard for it."
"Is that right?" he takes another sip, smirk appearing.
"I think I'd be able to make you flinch before I do up there." You say, cockily. You're not sure if you'll ever be able to affect him the way he does to you, but your mouth is moving of its own volition. The words are creating themselves. Even though you know this isn't the smartest conversation to have with your employer that you have a crush on, growing stronger with each touch and glance. (You try to remind yourself that its just the performance, but your heart never seems to get the message).
"Is that a challenge, love?" He's entertained, smile growing.
"If you want it to be," you shoot back, quick. A smarter woman wouldn't do this. She wouldn't meddle with her career like this, her one shot at her dream. But right now all you can think about is the man across from you, smiling cheekily, curls bouncing with each movement of his head. You can't be bothered to think too rationally. You're greedy. You just want to keep him like this, staring at you so intently.
"Don't set yourself up for a game you're bound to lose, even with your plays you know I've spent way more time becoming comfortable in front of the crowds." He's self-assured.
"Winner buys drinks for the rest of the tour?" You can't stop yourself. You're not even sure if you'd win this challenge you've built. You just want to see it play out. You've started the game, but all you really care about are his moves.
"You've got yourself a deal," he shakes his head with a smile. You tap your drinks together in agreement. What are you doing.
Washington D.C.
You exhale, letting out the smoke from the cigarette. Your attempts to quit before the tour have been unsuccessful, and the long day made you itch for a moment of reprieve, the nicotine rushing through your brain.
The cold air stings your arms, goosebumps forming as you slightly shiver. You went on a walk along the Potomac, people watching and chain-smoking. Now you're leant against the tour bus, waiting to finish the cigarette that you've sworn to yourself will be your last for the night.
Your peace is disturbed by the tour bus door swinging open, and Matty walking down the steps. He's on his phone, and doesn't notice you until he gets completely out of the bus, looking around. His eyes immediately land on the cigarette in your hand, and his mouth opens in slight shock.
"Why didn’t you tell me you actually smoked?" he asks, incredulously, while pointing towards your hand. "I went through all the effort of getting sets of fake cigarettes for the show!"
You sigh, taking another drag. "I'm sorry. I was trying to quit then, but evidently I have not been too successful." you gesture into the air with it between your fingers.
He walks towards you, and you wordlessly pass the cigarette to him. He takes a puff before handing back it back to you. You can see a ever-so-faint tinge of your dark lipstick on his lips, transferred from the cigarette. You force the thought to not linger, taking another drag.
Matty hums. "Does that mean I can use a real one in the scene? The bit in Robbers?"
You tsk, putting on an air of disappointment. "Wow, promoting and encouraging addiction? Not very PC of you, Matty. Whatever will Twitter say?"
"Fuck off. Give me the cig," he says, smiling. The two of you smoke the small bit it has left in comfortable silence, the chill from the river rippling around you.
Atlanta
The bus is driving down a seemingly endless highway, the surroundings staying identical now matter how far you drive. Your holding a book in your lap, but you're barely reading it. Your eyes keep flicking up to Matty.
He's sat at one of the seating booths, hastily writing in a notebook. It's moleskin, and from your vantage point you can see what appears to be small drawings, almost doodles, alongside lines of indecipherable prose.
You wonder if he's writing a song, ideas for another leg of the show. More fantasies for you to act out. In this one, will he be cruel, acting out a performance of hatred? Maybe he'll be ambivalent, using you as simply an object in the narrative. Your mind spirals through possibilities, and the reality of the situation is long gone to your imagination.
You return to focusing on him. His hair is dangling over his forehead, dark curls framing his face so beautifully. You want to run your fingers through them, ruin the tightly coiled ringlets and tug on them until he gasps. You make a mental note to do it during the show tonight, the one time you're allowed to act on your desires for him.
He’s wearing a blue sweatshirt, and grey sweatpants that look so good it should be illegal. Your mouth runs dry as you continue to stare at his body, tracing him with your eyes. He lets out a small sigh, which causes your eyes to flick up to his face. He's frowning slightly, shaking his head as he erases a line. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling on it as you imagined yourself doing.
Your eyes dart back down to your book before he can catch you watching. You stare at the page for minutes, but your eyes don't read a single word.
Nashville
"Excuse me, uhm, are you the girl in The 1975 show?"
You turn around. You're in a corner shop, grabbing some snacks before the bus leaves. There's a girl who can't be more than sixteen wearing an At Their Very Best shirt, holding several magazines and a pint of ice cream. She looks almost awestruck.
You smile, excited. You're getting recognized. By fans. This is insane. "Yeah, that's me. You're actually the first person to come up to me, this is kind of crazy."
"Crazy for you? Oh my gosh, this is insane for me! I've been a fan of the band for ages, and I couldn't stop watching you up there! I've never seen an actor in a tour before, you are so cool!" She's speaking at the speed of light. You don't even have a moment to speak before she continues.
"I just think the show's so amazing, what you guys are doing is so cool, oh my gosh, I can't believe this is happening, this is so-"
You put your hands on her shoulders. She's so excited, you're worried she'll faint from the lack of air.
"Please breathe, I don't need you to pass out on me," you say through a concerned laugh.
She takes a deep breath, and you match her. You stand in the aisle for a moment, breathing with her. It's a little ridiculous, but you couldn't be happier. "God, this is so embarrassing," she says, face cringing.
"Hey, hey, no need to be embarrassed. This is actually really cool for me, too. Big milestone. Do you, uh, want a picture or anything? Can I give you something?"
You take a picture with her, and give her a big hug before she leaves. She tells you she will be in GA again at a later date, and you promise her you'll look for her in the audience. As she walks away, a big smile grows on your face. You're getting recognized. Not getting hollered at by an old man at the bus stop asking if you're the girl from that one commercial, or accepting the mild reactions from acquaintances you show the few bits of recorded work you've done. But someone telling you they loved something you're in, something that you're so so proud of. You walk back to the tour bus, humming and elated.
Grand Prairie
"You're telling me, the man who constantly is taking about his love for Cronenberg and hired me to act out a creepy love fantasy every night hasn't watched Bones and All yet?" you ask while laughing, aghast. The two of you are sat on the couch of the tour bus, killing time while the crew is setting up. George went to workout in temporary gym that has been constructed in the backstage area, and Adam is lying in his bunk with headphones on.
"I've been a little focused on making and album and writing this show that you're in, thank you very much. And it's not that creepy."
"You pull my hair and stroke my face while you sing about smashing my head open," you say, straight-faced.
He sighs, exasperated. "It's a metaphor," he practically whines.
"And so is Bones and All. We're doing a movie night, pass me the remote." You get the TV set up while Matty makes a bowl of popcorn in the microwave, and brings it back to the couch as the movie begins.
Ross walks out of the main suite during one of the more particularly gruesome scenes. "Jesus, guys, could't put this on a laptop or something?" he says, shielding his eyes. "The hell even is this?"
"Shhhhh!" Matty hisses at him, and you snort.
Houston
You're on stage, and he's singing Inside Your Mind. You're sat frozen on the chair, as you always are. His hand is stroking your face, fingers dancing down your temple to your jawline, tracing the shape of you as if to memorize it.
His hand moves to the side, his thumb leaving whispers of touches on your cheek. It keeps moving, further and further until his thumb reaches your mouth. Slowly, he runs his thumb across your top lip, tracing your cupids bow. You choke internally. You know what he's doing. He's trying to get you to flinch, give him a victory. You've set up this situation where he seeks to touch you of his own volition solely for chance to win a childish bet, but so be it if it means he'll touch you. You'd let him treat you as a game because at least it means he'll treat you somehow.
His thumb moves down to your bottom lip. You need to regain your footing, distract the racing thoughts in your mind. An idea slithers from the back of your mind, the one that screams for him constantly over the sirens of sanity that try to drown it out. At least now you can lean into that for the sake of this bet you constructed. You act before you can think too hard about it.
You move ever so slightly forward, small enough so that the audience won't be able to see, and you take his thumb into your mouth.
It's never been harder to hold your position. You so desperately want to see his face, see the truth in his reaction. You're in far too deep at this point, might as well win the bet now.
You close your lips around his thumb, and suck.
He stops singing, ever so momentarily. Clears his throat. Continues on. You know you've won, and the grin radiating from inside of you is almost too difficult to withhold. You got physical proof that you have at least some effect on him. (Far more important to you than any drinks, but you won't be telling him that)
After the show, he doesn't say a word about it. But when he returns from the bar that night at the club you're gathered at, he places a vodka cranberry in your hands before sitting back in his seat with a small grin.
Austin
"Crazy idea."
"Hmm?"
You're stoned out of your minds, lying down on the bed of George’s hotel room. The man in question is lying on the floor, long passed out.
“You know how…” you trail off. It’s so hard to think. Your mind is hazy, thoughts swirling around in pretty patterns you can’t quite see.
“I do!” Matty sits up, in shock. You kick him, pushing his chest back down with your foot.
“I haven’t even said it yet, idiot,” you scoff, exaggeratedly offended. You take a deep breath to clear the haze in your mind.
“When you’re running your finger down my face. I’ve had dreams where there’s blood on you.” you sing the part you’re referring to lightly. “What if… there actually was blood on me?”
You barely let it sit for a second before bursting into laughter, unable to contain yourself. “Ugh, I always have the weirdest ideas when I’m high,” you groan into your pillow. “How would we even do that?” you slur, face smushed.
“We could put it behind the chair. I put my hand in it… put it on your face…” Matty contemplates it.
“I think you liked Bones and All a little too much, I didn’t actually-”
“No, no, this is good. It’s creepy, and it further shows that that scene isn’t real, just, uh, in my imagination.” He gasps dramatically. “You’re a genius!” he shouts, comically excited.
“Oh, no!” You shout, realization dawning on your intoxicated mind.
“What, what, what?” Matty looks alarmed. You take his hands on yours.
“We are going to ruin so many dresses,” you say, grim. The two of you burst into laughter immediately.
“Oi, quit it!” George groans from the floor. It only causes your laughter to grow.
Mexico City
On the stage two hours prior, Matty stuck his tongue down your throat.
He kissed you so forcefully, eagerly. You felt like you were burning alive as you cupped his face, and kissed him just as passionately in return. Matty kissed you like he wanted to consume you, taking each and every part of you for himself. You’d give at all, open and willing. You licked into his mouth, letting the moment continue far longer than prescribed. You ran a hand through his curls, and you felt a small moan vibrate in your mouth as your nails scratched on his scalp. He met your gaze after and carefully brushed a piece of hair out of your face. Your heart felt as if it was going to tear out of your throat, pounding and bloody. Here I am, can’t you see this is all real?, it would say to him, pounding violently and gruesomely in his arms. Can't you see all that you do?
Matty practically lives on the dance floor of the after parties. He never spends much time at the bar, grabbing drinks before heading either to the DJ booth to pester George or smack dab in the center of the dance floor.
You’re standing at the bar, nursing a drink. Polly left you to go to the bathroom and you’re watching the members of band scattered throughout the club. George is DJing, as per usual, with Ross dancing against some girl near the edge of the dance floor. Adam is sat at a booth not too far from you with Carly, and you give them a smile as you sip into your cup. Matty wanders over, empty-handed and seemingly bone-tired, but the drunken grin on his face is apparent. “Seems I’ve lost my drink.”
You’re not really sure what he means with this. You speak anyways. “You know, the bets over and done. You’re not getting any drinks even if you make me flinch up there.”
He raises his eyebrows and smiles, cheeky and withholding. “I know.” You don’t know what to do with that.
The music changes. You don’t recognize it, but Matty clearly does, his drunken face exploding with joy.
“I love this song, come dance!” he shouts over the music, dragging you, laughing, onto the floor to dance with him. He puts his hands on your hips as you dance, and you can’t be bothered to let any modicum of rationality left in you stop you from indulging in it.
Phoenix
You're sat on the tour bus couch, scribbling in your notebook.
I glow pink in the night in my room
I've been blossoming alone over you
And I hear my heart breaking tonight
I could stare at your back all day
And I know I've kissed you before, but
I didn't do it right
It’s missing something, but you can’t figure out what. You tap your pencil against the page, creating little stabs of grey.
You feel a brush of something against your head and turn to the side, seeing Matty leaning over you. You practically jump out of your skin.
“Jesus Christ, Matty! What are you, a fucking ghost?”
He laughs a little. “Sorry, sorry. Just you were so focused, I didn’t wanna disturb you. Let me see that, actually.”
Before you can protest, he reaches over your shoulder, rips the notebook out of your hands, and tumbles around the couch to sit beside you.
“Matty-” you try to lean and reach it out of his hands, but he rotates his body as to keep it out of your reach. You pray he doesn’t think too hard about the words, weave the meaning together that in your mind is displayed so, so obviously. He’s quiet, and it’s making you nervous. You bite one of your nails, unsure what to do.
He looks over at you, eyes wide. “This is what you’ve been writing this whole time?”
You scratch the back of your neck. “Well, not like that specific one this entire tour. But yeah, poems and stuff. It’s not meant to be something though, give it back,” you say as you reach across him.
He pulls it out of your reach again. He says your name so focused, so earnestly, you stop in your tracks.
“That poem is amazing.”
You sigh. “Matty, I’m really not in the mood for-“
“I’m not taking the piss, love! This is…” He taps the poem with his finger. “This is really something. You’re really something.” He looks back at you, so earnest it makes your head dizzy.
He fumbles in his pockets pulling out his phone. He looks back at you. “Can I?” he asks. You’re not 100% sure what he’s asking, but really, you’d agree to anything he asked of you. You nod. He takes a picture of the page and hands you back your notebook, standing up.
"C'mon, soundcheck is about to start," he smiles, waving you to follow him.
Las Vegas
There's a container fixed to the back of the chair. Its flat and wide, perfect for placing a hand into. It's filled with fake blood that is about to be spread all over your face. Matty talked to Tobias and Patricia, convinced there was a way to make the blood your intoxicated mind suggested work, and now here you are.
He's approaching the line. You count your breaths. One two, one two. You wore one in-ear out of anticipation for the audience's reaction, and the music pounds into your ears. You wanna hear the screams that you know will come.
You see Matty carefully place his hand in the dish, and he brings it to your cheek. The blood is cold, jarring against your cheek. He keeps his hand still for a moment, letting it sit. He smears it with his thumb across your upper cheek, digging slightly against the bone.
The crowd is screaming. You can feel the blood dripping onto your thigh, staining the stark white of your dress. He drags his thumb towards your lips, staining them red as it traces their outline, pressing against them.
You can't help yourself. You've been so still every show, keeping your gaze locked in the distance. The perfect actress he wanted. But you're not a perfect actress. You're selfish. You're a girl whose falling so hard it makes you exhilarated, chasing the all-consuming feeling of him every moment you can. You're so consumed by him it terrifies you. You want to see him, gaze piercing and blood dripping. Your eyes flick to meet his, breaking the stillness.
You stare into each others eyes. You're covered in the blood. Nothing feels real. The only thing grounding you is his hand on your cheek, cold and bloody but far more a comfort than anything else could possibly be. The crowd goes wild as the blood drips on your dress, staining you with him, seeping into your skin, your bones. Skin and bones, that's all you are. But not here with him. You feel alive, heart racing and endorphins shooting into your mind, loosening it with desire and adrenaline. The blood trails down your neck, cold and sticky. You want it to stain you just as he does to all of your thoughts, your poems, your breaths, your everything. The blood drips lower and lower down your neck, cold against your skin.
The song ends. You get up, and leave the stage as you always do, covered in him so completely. The blood leaves a trail.
—
a/n: pleaaaaaaase let me know what you guys think i love hearing from you <33333 poem is pink in the night by mitski 🫶
#matty healy#pitn#matty healy x reader#matty healy fanfic#matty healy writing#matty#healy#the 1975#the 1975 fanfic
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He’s begging babe stay, stay, stay- Matty Healy x Reader
a/n: self titled era has a special place in my heart and I wanted to write a proper story regarding this era. Sorry if it’s shit and it feels like it’s very long.
content warning: maybe a bit angsty? fluff, smut, 18+ MDNI, p in v, dry humping, fingering, praise, dirty talk
It’s a shit day. All you have done until now is count the hours until your brother Ross is leaving to go on tour with his band.
The past days the boys were at your house just hanging around, smoking and to practice in your garage. You know because you spent time in the living room, pretending to work when all you’ve done is watch him or listen to his voice.
Matty's voice, raw and magnetic, cut through the music. Every time he sang, it felt like the world around you blurred, leaving only his voice in sharp focus.
Some times in their breaks you prayed that he would leave the garage to get a drink and when he did you felt giddy, like a nervous school girl.
Your eyes followed his every move. His black skinny jeans clinging to his body, the black shirt and leather jacket matching his persona. He’s just so attractive.
You’re grateful that Ross is part of the band. The past years have been a blessing because you could innocently see Matty and be around him without it being weird.
Your heart started racing when he entered the room, most of the times it was the middle of the night and you were grateful for the darkness that hid your flushed cheeks. You tried to focus on your breathing, but it was futile. The mere thought of him noticing you made you feel like a bundle of nerves. You had been around these boys all your life, but Matty—Matty was different.
You’re dreading the moment he leaves the house for good..
21:18- You’re sitting on the porch trying to smoke the thoughts away but every drag hurts your lung immensely.
They’re playing ‘you’ right now and you can’t help but close your eyes to the muffled music. You really will cry to the end. Cry until there’s no tears left. Maybe it’s over the top because you can’t even hold eye contact with Matty and he would never fall for you.
You’re very aware of the many different girls he had or has. And you, you had your first kiss a month ago with some football player because you tried to forget about him but you just can’t.
The reality of their imminent departure is settling in. The garage is alive with music, but you feel the weight of the upcoming silence. You will miss Ross, of course. His absence will leave a void in the house, but Matty's absence will leave a void in your heart.
You take another drag, the smoke burning your throat. The stars above are a blur through your tears. You wish you can be brave enough to tell him how you feel, but the fear of rejection is paralyzing. You would rather suffer in silence than risk the delicate balance of your current reality.
As the song changes to ‘robbers’, you let yourself sink into the music. The lyrics feel like they are written for you, capturing the longing and the heartache you can’t express. Tomorrow, they will be gone, and you will be left with nothing but memories and unspoken words.
You exhale slowly, the smoke dissipating into the night air. The porch light flicker, casting fleeting shadows. The night is as restless as you are, and the loneliness is beginning to set in. You hug your knees to your chest, feeling the cold concrete against your skin, and let the tears fall.
The music winds down, the final chords of hanging in the air like a whispered goodbye. You feel the silence settling in, heavy and inevitable. The garage door creaks open, and the boys' laughter floats out into the night, but it feels distant, like it belongs to another world. You crush the cigarette under your foot, watching the embers fade, a mirror to your fading hope.
You’re sitting there hugging your knees, covering your face and you can’t even hear footsteps approaching.
“D’you mind some company?”
This can’t be.
You look up, mascara completely ruined but you wipe your face with your sleeves. Matty is looking at you and his gaze drops, you think it’s almost a bit of worry.
“Shit,” he says, “sorry, I can go if I’m interrupting?”
“No no, it’s ok.” You say, pulling out another cigarette.
He nods as he leans against a wooden beam in your driveway, mirroring your movements by also lighting a cigarette.
The silence is sickening. You sure as hell won’t say anything because he caught you crying like a wimp in front of the door while they are playing their songs.
“S’ it Ross?” You think about how stupid the question is and you agree with Matty even though you want to say, ‘No, it's you.’
"Yeah," you lie, nodding. "It's Ross. Just gonna miss having him around."
Matty takes a drag, his eyes fixed on some distant point in the darkness. "He'll be back, you know. It’s just a tour. He’ll come home."
You nod, the lie sitting heavy in your chest. "I know. It's just... different without him here."
He flicks the ash from his cigarette, the glow illuminating his features for a brief moment. "Yeah, it's always different when someone's gone. Makes you realize how much you take them for granted."
He’s looking at you. He’s seeing you. The way he looks at you makes your breath catch in your throat. There's an intensity in his gaze, a softness that you rarely see. It's like he's trying to understand, to reach out without words.
You wonder how he sees you. Here you are, sitting on the porch with ruined mascara, tears staining your cheeks, and your heart on display. It's embarrassing, and you feel exposed under his gaze. But there's something in the way he looks at you that makes you think he sees more than just the tears and the smudged makeup. Maybe he sees the vulnerability, the raw emotion that you've been trying to hide.
You want to tell him it's not just Ross. That the thought of him leaving is what's tearing you apart. But the words stick in your throat, and you just nod again, staring at the ground.
“Ross became my family as well,” he says softly, “means you’re family too and we all are going to miss you.”
Your heart aches at his words, knowing how much more they mean to you than they do to him. "Thanks, Matty.“
You wonder if it’s the last time you’ll say his name, how long it will take for you to say it again.
“How long until you leave here?” You ask hoping deep down he tells you they won’t leave at all.
“Planned on leaving at 2,” he tries to smile, “punctuality isn’t our strength as you may know.”
You manage a small laugh, though it feels hollow. "Yeah, I know."
He glances at his watch and then back at you. "It's not too late. We still have some time. You should come inside, hang out with us for a bit.”
“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit.” You want to be alone with him, and the thought of being in a room with the whole band right now feels overwhelming. So you decline, shaking your head gently.
He seems to understand, not pushing further. Instead, he surprises you by sitting down next to you on the porch steps. The proximity sends a rush of warmth through you, even in the cool night air.
"Y'know, I've always liked these quiet moments. Sometimes, it's nice to just... be.”
You nod, appreciating his words. "Yeah, it is.”
He turns his head slightly to look at you, and you meet his gaze. There's a softness in his eyes, a hint of something that feels almost like longing.
You notice Matty's smell—a mix of his cologne, a hint of leather from his jacket, and something distinctly him. It’s comforting and intoxicating, a scent you know you'll miss.
You shift slightly, turning to face him. "Do you ever think about what comes next?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He looks at you, his eyes reflecting the dim porch light. "Sometimes," he admits. "But it's hard to focus on the future when the present is so demanding."
You nod, understanding all too well. "I get that. But I mean, beyond the tours and the music. What do you see for yourself?"
He takes a deep breath, his gaze thoughtful. "Honestly, I don't know. I guess I hope for something more stable, something real. It's easy to get lost in the chaos, but I want to find something that grounds me." His eyes drop to your lips and if you would have blinked in that moment you would have missed it. “Someone who grounds me.”
“I understand,” you gulp, wanting to be the person.
“I think about it.” You frown, not knowing what he means. “What it would be like to settle down, find someone real.”
“Like a relationship?”
“Yeah,” he says quietly, “someone who just gets it. Would sort me out I think.”
“Maybe.” You could fucking punch yourself. You’re giving short ass answers but you’re scared to say more. You’re scared that if you reveal yourself it would be so much worse when he’s gone.
He leans back slightly, his arm brushing against yours. "Maybe it's not so far off, you know? Sometimes, the right person is closer than you think."
You feel a blush rising to your cheeks, and you look away, hoping he doesn't notice. But he does and he thinks it’s for the wrong reason.
“Do you have a person?” He asks.
“Don’t you think you would know, you’re here all the time.”
He chuckles and it might be your favorite sound. “Alright you’ve got a point there, love.”
Love. It’s a british thing but your heart still skips a beat, and a warmth spreads through your chest, melting away any lingering doubts or fears. The simple term of endearment feels like a promise, a glimpse of something more between you.
“Does it mean you still haven’t had your first kiss yet?” The question surprises you, he’s very forward and it makes you regret that you didn’t wait. Because maybe he could’ve been your first kiss.
“No I had my first kiss,” you say, “wasn’t anything serious though.”
“How was it?”
That’s the Matty you’re familiar with. Not the ‘romance talk’ kind of guy but the guy who has a shit eating grin on his face because he’s experienced and wants to know everything about the sex life of others.
“Not sure,” you cringe, “wasn’t how I imagined it.”
“How did you imagine it?”
“I didn’t imagine him slipping me tongue the second we kiss,” you groan at the memory and he laughs, “and he was just so violent, didn’t really feel good.”
He hums, stepping out the cigarette. “S’ a bummer, everyone should know how a good kiss feels.”
You don’t know what he’s hinting at because it would be dumb to assume he’s projecting the statement on to you.
“Not every guy is like that.” He says and your eyes find his again, “mate was bloody inexperienced.”
Matty is only 23 years old, three years older than you. Can’t be that much of a different between the guys.
"Yeah, well, it's not like I've got a lot of experience either," you admit, feeling a bit exposed.
He gives you a sympathetic look, but there's a playful edge to it. "Experience isn't everything, love. It's about the connection, the moment. And trust me, when it's right, you'll know."
You do know. You know with him, you’re sure that you want to kiss him. You want to experience life with him, do everything.
“A good kiss shouldn’t leave you feeling anything but wanted.” He shifts closer, his thigh now next to yours.
You look at him, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Yeah?"
He nods, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah.”
You can feel the electricity in the air as Matty leans closer, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. Your mind is a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, fear, longing. For years, you’ve harbored these feelings for him, tucking them away in the corners of your heart. He’s always been more than just your brother’s bandmate. He’s been the one who makes your pulse quicken, the one whose presence can light up your entire day.
You've watched him with other girls, feeling a pang of jealousy each time. You've imagined what it would be like to be the one he looks at with that mischievous grin, the one he holds close in the quiet moments. And now, here you are, on the brink of something you’ve dreamed about for so long.
Your thoughts are a jumble, your heart pounding in your chest. You want to kiss him so badly it aches. The desire has been building for years, a slow burn that has now become an overwhelming flame. The way he makes you feel—giddy, nervous, hopeful—no one else has ever come close. He’s the reason you find yourself smiling for no reason, the reason your heart feels too big for your chest sometimes.
You glance at his lips, and the anticipation makes your breath hitch. You’re nervous, of course you are—this is Matty, the guy you’ve loved from a distance for so long. But beneath the nerves, there’s a deeper, more insistent feeling: the need to finally close the gap, to feel his lips on yours and know what it’s like to be kissed by him.
You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "Matty, I... I don't know what I'm doing."
"That's alright, love. Everyone's gotta start somewhere. Just tell me what you want." He gives you a reassuring smile, his hand brushing against yours.
You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. "I want... I want to know what a good kiss feels like."
His smile widens, a glint of something mischievous in his eyes. "Well, I can help with that."
You nod, feeling a rush of anticipation.
He leans in slowly, giving you time to back away if you want. But you don't. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips meet yours.
The kiss is gentle at first, his lips soft and warm against yours. There's no rush, no urgency, just a slow, deliberate exploration. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.
You relax into the kiss, feeling the spark, the connection. It's everything he said it would be—electric, grounding, and utterly unforgettable.
It's like every dream, every late-night fantasy you've ever had is coming to life in this single, perfect moment. His lips are warm and soft, moving gently against yours, and it feels as if time has stopped.
Your heart is racing, pounding so hard you're sure he must feel it too. There's a nervous excitement bubbling inside you, mingling with a deep, almost overwhelming sense of joy. The kiss is tender, unhurried, and you can feel the care and attention he's giving to every movement. It's everything you imagined and more.
Years of unspoken longing, of watching him from afar and wishing for this very moment, flood through you. You've dreamed of this kiss, of being close to him like this, feeling his breath mix with yours. The reality of it surpasses every fantasy, every hopeful thought. The connection you feel is electric, a spark igniting between you that sends shivers down your spine.
His hands are gentle, one cupping your cheek, the other resting lightly on the small of your back. The warmth of his touch sends shivers through your body, grounding you in this moment. The way he holds you feels protective, yet respectful, as if he's cradling something precious.
You almost whine when he pulls back.
“How’s that?” He asks, a soft murmur, his thumb still caressing your cheek.
You don’t have any words. You have to concentrate that you won’t start crying because of all the things you felt while his lips were on yours.
“Where’s your mind gone, love?” He asks, lifting your chin, not even realizing that you dropped it. “Care to tell me?”
He stops and he puts his hand back to his own body. You’re scared now, that you’ve done something wrong, that you’re too innocent for him.
“Was the kiss shit?”
“No!” It comes out way too fast, “it was the opposite.”
You can tell he’s relieved but he still doesn’t know why you’re reacting this way.
“I just don’t- ugh,” you groan.
“Take your time.”
You would but the truth is you don’t have time.
“I don’t want it to end but I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me.” You admit and it’s a huge step for you.
“I think we have a lot to chat about hm?” He says and stands up. You don’t, you only stand up when he offers you his hand.
Matty’s hand reaches out, his fingers slowly intertwining with yours. The contact is gentle yet firm, his touch sending a thrill through your body. Your fingers are cold from the night air, but his are warm, and the contrast makes you shiver slightly.
The warmth of his hand spreads through you, soothing the anxiety that had been knotting in your stomach. His fingers fit perfectly between yours, like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. It feels so natural, so right, and you can’t help but squeeze his hand gently, as if to reassure yourself that this is real.
He smiles, his eyes filled with a mix of affection and relief. "Your hands are freezing," he murmurs, his thumb lightly brushing over the back of your hand.
You laugh softly, the sound a little shaky. "Yeah, well, it’s not exactly warm out here."
“Let me talk to the boys real quick, then we can go inside yeah?”
“Sure.” You don’t know what he’s going to say to them, if he’s going to tell them the truth about where he’s going and what he’s doing but on the other hand you don’t even know what he’s doing.
He’s leaving you on the doorstep and you already pull out your keys to open the door. When he comes back you embrace him. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, everything else fades away. He's wearing that familiar smirk, his hair tousled, and you can't help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looks. There's a magnetism to him, a charm that draws you in
“Your room alright to talk?” He asks as you both go inside, where it is a lot warmer. The heat is getting to you and you feel a familiar tingly feeling in your stomach.
You don’t want to wait until you can talk or kiss again or feel him on you. You want to grab his arm and pull him against you and devour him whole. But you’re too shy to let him know.
“It’s straight down the hall,” you mumble, letting him lead you upstairs, his hands now intertwined with yours again.
22:30- And you’re in your room, sitting on the bed which is fucking exciting because Matty is sitting on your bed.
He’s getting rid of his jacket and throws it on a little chair next to your dest. He’s wearing a basic black shirt with a cutout, his tattoo on display for you.
“Talk to me, I want to know what’s on your mind, and clearly there’s a lot on your mind.” You both sit on the edge of the bed and after he’s gotten rid of his jacket he grabbed your hand again.
“I don’t know where to start,” you whisper truthfully.
Matty's hand tightens around yours, and you feel a rush of nerves as you meet his gaze. His eyes hold a mixture of curiosity and warmth, encouraging you to speak your mind.
“I don't know how to say this," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I've... I've liked you for a while now."
He raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Is that so?" he says, his tone light.
You nod, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks. "Yeah. And I don't know... I don't know how to interpret the kiss. Why did you kiss me?"
Matty lets out a soft laugh, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "Why does anyone kiss anyone?" he replies, his gaze meeting yours. "Because they want to, I s’pose."
You can't help but scoff at his nonchalant response.
“You think too much, love.” He chuckles and grabs your chin to look at him. “I kissed you because I like you as well.”
“You do?” You ask.
This is all happening very fast and you doubt his words, not believing that he likes you.
As Matty's words sink in, you feel like you're floating in a dream. Did he really just say that he kissed you because he likes you too? The thought sends a rush of warmth through your entire being, and you can't help but let out a breathless laugh.
“I do,” he nods.
“Now what?”
“Up to you, love,” your head is pounding, the room is spinning, the kiss from earlier still in your head and you just want the feeling back.
You lean forward to kiss him again, your lips finding his and his hand on the back of your neck, making sure you won’t leave his your place. You can’t breathe which makes you gasp and matty slides his tongue into your mouth.
You didn’t know that this can be hot, you go with the flow, letting your tongue brush against his in a steady rhythm. You’re getting hot, your skin is on fire and you’re sure he can feel it.
You’re panting more than Matty when you both pull back to breathe. Your pupils are already dilated and you’re ready for more. You’re never ready for anything but with Matty it just feels right.
“Can we just do this for a while?” You ask, wanting to be absolutely sure of what you’re going to ask him in a couple of minutes.
“Of course, love, it’s your pace we’re going for.” You smile at his answer but before you can kiss him again he speaks.
“Can you get on my lap, it’s more comfortable this way.” You blush but nod.
You waist no time to sit yourself fully on top of him, your legs on each side of his narrow hips. You stare at him through half lidded eyes, if you were a cartoon there would surely be hearts drawn all over them, as he captures your lips in a slow kiss. The two of you sigh and grunt into each other's mouths, moaning softly when hands met bare skin, pulling and squeezing all the right places.
“Breathe, love, we’ve got time.”
“We don’t.”
You melt into the next kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck. You feel him, he’s hard and you want to grind your hips but you have self control and you don’t know if that’s what you want.
He feels the same though, wanting to touch you everywhere at the same time, wanting to undress you and show you how much you mean to him.
He finally lets his hands wander over your sides, under your shirt and you sigh into his mouth. You still need more. “Can I touch you here?” He asks, referring to your boobs and you nod.
His hands meet your waist, run over your tummy, and up to your breasts, palming them lightly, not quite the way you are expecting. You grab wherever you can get your hands on — his shoulders, his back, pulling him closer and closer — huffing when it’s getting too much, or too little.
The kisses you share are still slow, sensual, following the rise and fall your shared breathing, but this time he follows your lead, running his hands over your thighs, your hips, grabbing your ass and dragging it over the front of his jeans, where you can feel him. You bite his lower lip, and your eyes are still closed but you can feel his smile.
“Need to tell me f’ you want something,” he says against your lips.
You hum, not saying anything but you roll your hips again, whimpering when the friction is perfect against your clothed pussy.
“Wait, love,” he makes you whine as he stills your hips. “Need to know what you’ve done.”
“Nothing more then kiss.” You say and he’s not even surprised anymore.
“Oh,” he groans, he’s fully turned on and he can’t believe it’s him who’s going to show you how perfect you can feel. “I don’t want to pressure you, I’m fine with kissing.”
“I’m not,” you interrupt, “please just do something.”
You’re begging and it drives him insane. “Alright alright, lay down for me, will you?”
You lay down on the bed and watch him get rid of his shirt, throwing it on top of his jacket. He’s crawling over you, kissing your face before moving down to your neck.
“You touched yourself before though right?”
You nod, feeling too embarrassed to let out words. He’s sucking at your neck so sweetly you’re sure you’ll forget your name.
“Can I?” He refers to your shirt and you answer with a short ‘yes.’ He pulls your shirt over your head and you reveal your black lace bra to him.
He groans, “if you want me to stop,” he says, his lips returning to your fiery skin, trailing barely there kisses down the expanse of your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, hands grasping at his bare sides. “You tell me right away.” His kisses litter your throat, your collarbone, all the way to your breasts. “Understand?”
“Yes,” you moan.
“Clever girl,” the praise goes straight to your core which you are pressing against his bulge.
“Lift up—” he says, giving your thighs a light tap. You lift your hips from the mattress, allowing him room to shuffle the fabric off your legs. You assist him towards the end, fluttering your feet until you could kick the jeans to the floor. Within seconds, he is back between your thighs, this time straddling his shoulders as he settles further down the mattress. His face inches away from your cunt, now only protected by the thin cotton barrier.
“And when you touch yourself,” he continues, fingers tracing the softest shapes on the outside of your thighs, over your hips. You can feel his hot breath through your panties, and it makes you squirm. “How many fingers do you use?”
“Two- sometimes three, like to rub my clit though.” You are even surprised that you’re vocal but your eyes are on the clock and you know there’s no time for being shy.
“Can do that f’you, let me?”
“Yes yes.” He slides off your panties.
He never takes his lips off of yours when you feel the pads of his fingers prod at your hole, already leaking with desire. You anticipated his fingers to be much larger than yours, but when he sinks his two digits in, the stretch is satisfying. The way he works up your arousal aiding in how easy it is to slowly pump them in and out, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you.
“Matty.”
He begins to quicken his pace, the flex of his forearm curving his fingers up into that sweet spot with precision, leaving your toes to clench and your thighs to squeeze around his head.
You are begging for his name like a prayer, the only word you can find as your abdomen tightens, a subtle tremor cursing through your legs.
“You’re a dream come true.”
You brush his hair from his forehead, wanting to have a clear view of his eyes when your jaw falls slack, the euphoric high starting at your core and bursting out over the rest of you.
At first, you couldn’t move, can’t think, couldn’t breathe. But Matty keeps working thumb on your clit and his fingers inside of you through your orgasm so adamantly that your head flings back, and a lewd moan echoing off your lips.
“Fuck,” you whine and when he drags his fingers out of you, you can hear the sound of your slick.
He takes them into his mouth, licking the glistening off of his finger. “Taste so sweet, love.”
He lays completely on top of you again, he’s trying not to rut into your leg but you got him so turned on it hurts.
You whine into his mouth, wanting him to fuck you but it’s your first time and you’re nervous and your mind starts rushing again.
“I got you, love, it’s just me,” yeah that’s the fucking problem. “We don’t need to go any further since you have never.”
“My first time was shit, don’t want that for you,” he continues, now you wonder about the details but maybe he can tell you some other time.
“I want this, with you Matty, no one else.” You earn another kiss to you lips.
“Hang on then,” he stands up to grab his wallet from his jacket and he pulls out a condom, it’s cliche and it’s making you giggle that he has a fucking condom in his wallet.
He pulls his pants down and his boxers and your eyes drop down to his fully hard length which is dripping red. He’s big. Now you’re scared of how it will fit.
He puts the condom on and moves on top of you again. “I’m going slow, don’t want to hurt you now do I.”
“If I do though, you tell me or tap my head okay?”
You nod and he tuts, “tell me, love.”
“I will, I promise.”
His mouth lowers down to yours as he slowly begins sheathing himself inside you, inch by inch. He is taking it slowly, which you appreciate. Feeling tears prick in the corners of your eyes at the painful but pleasurable fullness, he leans down to kiss them away.
“I will make it better yeah?, s’ normal that it hurts.”
Once he’s fully buried inside you he keeps his hips still, peppering kisses all over your face. “Shit,” you hiss, still feeling a sting.
“I know,” he keeps kissing your face, your neck, your arms to try to make it better. “Don’t worry, keep that head here with me.” He realized that you wanted to drift off again, but he keeps you in reality.
After a while the smile that adorns your lips makes him feel relieved, hating that he hurt you even for a minute. Once you are some what used to the feeling of him inside you, you lift your hips gently to show him you are ready. Matty is still hesitant with his movements, that is until you start moaning. The pain still lingers faintly, but the pleasure that’s coursing through you is enough to over come it.
“You’re such a good girl,” your hands grip his shoulders as continues to rock his hips into yours, his pace beginning to speed up. Matty is pressing a messy kiss to your lips, tongues dancing together as he makes love to you. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that this is what making love should feel like.
He brings his finger between your bodies, gently rubbing your clit. You don’t stop the constant cries from falling from your lips, head falling deeper into the pillows behind you. Matty can’t help but groan, your noises spurring him on further.
“You’re doing so good, showing me how good you feel, keep that going.”
Your nails are leaving behind crescents in the skin of his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to mind. With his available hand he slips a pillow under your hips. Providing him a deeper angle as his thrusts become sharper.
“Stay, stay Matty, stay,” you moan. You both know how you mean those words. Of course you want him to stay inside of you but the real meaning behind those words are that you don’t want him to leave ever. You can’t handle him going away.
“It’s alright, everything’s alright hm,” You can barely get a sentence out, Matty fucking any remaining thoughts from your head.
He knows you aren’t going to last much longer, as your walls repeatedly pulse around his cock. He rubs your clit faster, feeling himself starting to loose it as you scream out his name. Your orgasm shakes your frame, as he continues to fuck you through the euphoria. It only takes a few more thrusts before Matty meets his end, singing you sweet praises as he spills into the condom.
“You’ve done so fucking good, Christ,” you can’t help but smile as he nearly collapses on top of you, his lips leaving kisses anywhere he can reach.
You’re both sweaty and exhausted, as he slowly slips out of you. You try not to wince as you feel so empty, already missing the feeling of him nestled inside you. You wonder if you ever going to know the feeling.
You watch fondly as Matty ties off the condom and tosses it in bin next to your bed. You immediately reach for him once he’s done, pulling him back down onto the blankets with you. Matty lays his head on your breasts with a content sign as you stroke your hand through his hair. The only sounds are of your breathing.
00:30- and you’re cuddling in your bed, you’re clinging to him, holding on to the remaining touch he can give you.
“Are you alright, love?” He asks.
“Yes, thank you matty.”
“Nonsense,” he says, rolling on to his back to pull you on top of him, “thank you, big step for you.”
“Yeah,” you sigh in contentment.
You drape one leg over his thigh, a hand of yours traveling over his tattoos.
“Matty?” You break the silence, looking up at him. You want to tell him how you feel, how he made you feel and how you want him in your life. You don’t want this to be the last time and you don’t want him to come back in two years with some random girl. You want to be his girl.
You think about how you tell him, if you should tell him. Minutes pass and he lifts your chin to give you a kiss. “I know.” Is all he says.
You stay like this for some time, not wanting to know the time.
-
2:15- and you look outside your window to see him driving away.
#the 1975#matty healy#matty healy smut#matty healy fluff#Matty Healy imagine#matty healy comfort#matty healy angst#matty healy x you#matty healy x reader#ross macdonald#george daniel#adam hann#the 1975 fic#credit to cafekitsune for the divider
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#cinema#今田美桜#abed nadir#cnc drugging#advice#luke cage#忍野さら#koe no katachi#matty healy#sans x frisk#barcelona#vmas#お姉さん#max verstappen#carey mulligan
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#koe no katachi#matty healy#sans x frisk#barcelona#お姉さん#carey mulligan#chibi#england nt#rubi rose#gypsy#sexyboys#tw restriction#mma
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#original photographers#advice#忍野さら#matty healy#barcelona#max verstappen#nct u#chibi#england nt#juicy melons#regulus black#rubi rose#gypsy
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this shouldn't be allowed
#SECOND ONE.#PLEEEEEAAAAAASE#THIS IS NOT FUNNY#I DON'T WANT KIDS.#(unless it's with matty healy)#matty healy#the 1975#mackyzmusic
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All day, everyday, in the shower, in the bed, on the counter, in the pool, in the front garden, in the back garden, in the morning, in the night, in the car, in a restaurant or bar bathroom, doggy style, missionary, anal, on the fridge, on a piano, in the studio, I actually don’t give a fuck
#Matty Healy#the 1975#Truman black#i need this to happen asap#I need HIM#i need boyfriend matty immediately#ILL DIE IF I CANT HAVE HIM#Matty Healy is gods gift#need him like i need air
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"i’ve been very bad. i think i need to be punished. "
need mpind matty to take the piss and start talking to girlie like he's in a bad porno
mpind matty would sooo fucking do that and be a total shit about it lmao. onwards, it'd look a little something like:
The two of you sitting on the sofa, sides touching as you watch something random on the telly. Matty being the chronic ADHDer he is can't focus on the film for the life of him, getting oh-so easily distracted by the pressure of your thigh against his, skin bare as you wear nothing except cotton panties under your his shirt.
Oh course it riles him up, seeing you half naked just sitting there, watching a film like you don't have, in his words, "the most gorgeous, ready-for-you man" sitting right next to you. You scoff at his words, rolling your eyes and turning your attention away from him something he definitely doesn't like.
It starts with a hand on your knee, tracing pattern into your skin absentmindedly before slowly trailing north, inching the hem of your shirt upwards. he knows hes not sneaky in the slightest, and you do genuinely want to watch the film, so you push his hand away, shifting to be a bit more out of his reach.
Matty doesn't stop pestering you, even going so far as pulling you in for a messy kiss, shamelessly feeling you up over your shirt. You don't want to give him what he wants, knowing it'd spur him on in the future.
The last straw is him fully jumping on top of you, straddling your lap with his also bare legs, having gotten rid of his jeans when he noticed your lack of bottoms. His shirt falls over his body like a sheet, his shoulder visible where he had cut the neckline open. The effort it took to fling himself into your lap has him panting as he stares into your eyes, challenging you to say something.
"That desperate for my attention, are you?" you're visibly annoyed, getting the remote to pause the telly before turning your eyes back to the boy perched on top of you.
Something lights up in Matty when he sees your disgruntled reaction to his little spiel, licking his lips as words form in his mouth. "I've been bad." he breathes, smirking at you. "I think i need to be punished."
You screw your eyes shut at his cringey choice of words, pressing your hands to his chest to push him off you. He fights back, using your shoulders for leverage and pushing you down.
"I've been a naughty, naughty girl." Matty pitches his voice high, giggling maniacally as you groan, scrambling to get him off you. A moment of silence passes between the two of you and you think he's finally done. Oh, how wrong you are.
"I haven't any money to pay you for these drinks." he gestures at the worn down mugs filled with rosé and you cock your head, confused. What the fuck is he on about? He literally bought the wine, you were there.
"I could pay you some other way baby, make you feel real good." his hands cup your tits through your shirt, grinding his hips down on to you so obscenely you question your entire relationship with him.
Matty throws his head back, moaning almost incoherent words that sound like something straight out of a shit porno, making you cringe inwardly and outwardly, your hands splayed over his front, trying to shove him off you.
"Fucks sake Matty what is your damage?" you half groan half laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
"Nothing, actually, i'm just a free spirit." he might actually kill you, you think.
"Anyway, speaking of fucking." Matty's inflection makes shiver run up your spine as he peers down at you from above, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I'd quite like you to fuck me now, seeing as we are in the required position, hm?"
You roll your eyes a second time, shaking your head dismissively. "Fuck no mate, you've ruined the mood now." Matty's expression deflates at your words, a performative pout adorning his lips.
He's unusually quiet for the next few moments, his eyes raking over your face and body, landing on your hard nipples visible from under your shirt. His tongue runs over his bottom lip, wetting it as his hands trails down your sides, caressing the skin.
Matty lets his right hand sink further, bunching up your shirt over your hips. He thumbs at the waistband of your underwear, making you gasp. Matty smiles giddily at your reaction, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your neck, his fingers dancing along the skin of your inner thighs.
You let him touch you, feeling his digits slip under the cotton of your panties, the newfound pressure on your clit making a small moan spill from your lips.
"Sure i've ruined the mood? Your body tells me otherwise, darling." Matty coos into your ear, grinning wildly as your hands find his back, bringing him impossibly closer
#blurb blurb blurb whatever xxxxxxx#hi guys#happy june first u bunch of music fags#the 1975#matty healy#mpind matty#matty the 1975#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy smut#matty healy fluff#matty healy x reader#matty healy fic#matty healy x you#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fanfiction#the 1975 fanfic
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// 03.03.24 // Brussels, BE //
© hele.pavaleca
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may i request soft and sweet and loving smut with matty after girlie gets a promotion or something 💕
ofc! Thank you so much!
content warning: 18+ MDNI, oral (f receiving), face riding, p in v, praise,
────────────────────────
You called Matty immediately when you left your work place. The two of you were so nervous if you would get promoted or not and when you did all you wanted to do was to get back to Matty and celebrate with him.
You enter Matty’s concrete bunker and kick off your heels first, then you lay your bag next to a small cabinet.
Matty hears you come in and stands up, laying his guitar against the coffee table. He already prepared champagne and two glasses when you left, certain that you’d get good news.
You walk into the living room where Matty stands in a white shirt and a black tie, his usual look.
“Come here,” he says with a proud smile across his face, “how does it feel to be the new head of your department?”
You grin widely, embracing his hug. “Feels amazing Matty, still can’t believe it.”
He tilts your chin up to give you a soft kiss, “knew you would get it, you’re a fucking legend.”
You melt into his embrace, feeling the tension of the day ebb away. You pull back slightly, looking up at him. "Thank you for always believing in me."
Matty cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. "Always," he says softly, before leaning in to press a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips.
You sigh into the kiss, your hands coming up to rest on his chest. His warmth, his scent, everything about him feels like home. The kiss deepens, your tongues dancing together in a slow, sensual rhythm. You feel his hands travel down your back, his touch sending shivers of anticipation through you.
“Champagne later then?” He asks breaking the kiss.
You nod, not wasting any time to crash your lips on his again. He chuckles and pulls away again.
“Tonight’s all about you, love,” he whispers, “will you let me take care of you? Show you that you deserve everything?”
Your heart flutters at his words, and you nod, your breath hitching in your throat. “C’mon now, always need your words.”
“Yes,” Matty grins, pulling you with him, leading you to your bedroom. The room is lit up by only the moonlight, casting a soft glow to the bed.
With a sense of urgency, Matty pulls you closer to him, his hand caressing your back, tracing the zipper on your dress.
Just like second nature, his hand pulls down the zipper, allowing your dress to fall to the floor, and allowing him to see your body. Matty takes a step back, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. A small groan escapes his lips as he takes in the lace lingerie you are wearing. "You're the most gorgeous," he says, his voice hoarse with desire.
You get a bit shy, your knees almost buckling. Matty sees the blush that creeps up on your face but he only steps forward and reaches behind your back to unclip your bra. “There she is, pretty girl.”
His hand reaches out to cup one of your breasts gently. A soft moan escapes your lips as he begins to caress your nipple with his thumb. He leans down and presses a kiss to your neck. “You decide baby, m’gonna do everything you want me to.”
You need him. You need him to touch you, make you cum, make you forget about everything besides him.
“Can you-“ you stop, not knowing how to tell him where you need him even though you’ve done everything so many times. “Just do something.”
He laughs, “doesn’t work like that n’ you know it.” He pauses to lay you down on the bed, trailing kisses down to your stomach. “I guess I’ll just taste you then, sound good?”
“Yes, please.”
It’s unfair really, you almost undressed and he’s wearing everything. You roll on top of him, opening three buttons before getting impatient and just pulling the shirt over his head.
His perfect nose grazes the bridge of your own as your lips move softly together. Short breathy sighs, and hushed whines quickly grow rushed and desperate.
Your thighs are straddling his hips and the heat from your now soaked core grinding against his stiff cock is starting to make him feel lightheaded. His palms circle round to cup the meat of your ass. His fingers dip beneath the cotton of your underwear and you shift enough for him to rip the garment down your legs. Once your thighs settle back on either side of his hips he locks his arms around the backs of your knees and drags you up his body until your pussy is hovering over his face.
“Don’t hold back okay?” He pants breathlessly. “I’m serious, I want you to fucking ride me until you’re cumming on my tongue, okay baby?”
Your stomach flutters at how utterly filthy the words sound tumbling from his lips but a part of you is still hesitant. Matty senses your apprehension and pecks a few reassuring kisses to the insides of your thighs.
“I even beg you to alright? Don’t worry ‘bout me, I’m living a fucking dream here.”
He yanks you towards his face, his hands planted firmly on your hips to hold you in place. The first swipe of his tongue across your dripping centre tears a strangled cry from your throat.
The moment your taste floods him he can’t get enough, the vibrations from his satisfied moans travelling along his tongue only add to the delicious sensations he is bestowing upon you.
He laps up the arousal that’s gathered at your entrance, however he focuses the majority of his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, your hips jolted forward instinctively and his hands gently pushes against your ass, an encouragement for you to keep grinding on his face.
Sensing that you are close Matty maneuvers you enough to allow two of his thick fingers to slip inside your slickness.
“Oh fuck-” You gasp as the stretch of his digits filling you. “Oh my God, right there-”
He hums with his lips still latched to your swollen clit, alternating between sucking and fast flicks of his sinful tongue as his fingers curl to find your sweet spot.
He knows when he finds it from the way your walls clench around him, your head rolling back as every shred of self consciousness is ripped from your body with each thrust of your hips. It only takes another handful of strokes before your shaking thighs are clamping around his head, the powerful climax tearing through you as you slam your eyes shut and scream his name.
“Oh fuck I’m cumming- Matt-,” you moan over and over until your cries turn to whispers.
Once your muscles relax and the pleasure in your core reduces to small pulses you slowly open your eyes. You glance down at Matty with hooded lids and watch while he sucks each finger that had been buried inside you clean, growling an appreciative sound as he withdraws each digit torturously slowly.
His breathing is strained so you climb off of his face and pull him on top of you. You taste yourself on his lips.
Matty is unbelievably hard in his pants, you feel him on your thigh, rutting slowly into your leg. “Look at you,” he mumbles against your lips, “taste as sweet as you look.”
“Hmm,” you hum.
He glides his tongue against yours, arms tightly hugging your waist. You’re both heated, panting heavily as you kiss, grinding against one another. Before things go any further, he pulls away.
“Need to cum,” you whine, your hands gliding down his body to find his belt.
He needs his release as much as you do. He slides his pants and boxers down without ever breaking your kiss. You don’t have much time to consider what happens before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know.
Matty’s slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he opens you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head drops to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?”
“More than okay,” you moan, “please please,” he knows you. He knows what you want, you don’t want slow right now, you just want to cum.
“Alright, Jesus,” He then grabs onto one of your legs and places it over his shoulder. You gasp as he pushes deeper in this position. He pulls away as he focuses on the way his cock slides out of your wet cunt, leaving just the tip around your swollen lips, before thrusting into you again. He exhales the heaviest breath when you clench around him so tight that he can’t help but dig his nails into the soft flesh of your thigh.
“D’you know how proud I am of you? Fuck, you’re so amazing.” The praise goes straight into your core, clenching around him. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Matty, he smirks into your skin.
“You’re the best, always doing so good,” he hums, “finally getting rewarded now aren’t you.”
Heat floods every inch of you each time he thrust into you, the tension coiling tighter as you toss your head back. His eyes trail between your connected bodies, watching the way his length moves inside you effortlessly with the way your arousal coated him.
“You’re dripping, love,” he can’t help but groan, and you can hear the slick noise as he thrust his cock into your dripping walls over and over again. "God, you feel so good."
And when you can barely stand the pleasure any more, he suddenly pulls your leg off his shoulder before wrapping it around his waist. His other hand finds its way to the back of your head, holding you in place while he ruthlessly thrusts in and out of you. Your mouth falls open as you are taken aback by his sudden pace, your eyes instinctively glancing over to meet his gaze.
“Matty, Baby,” As the pleasure bubbles and erupts between your legs, surging throughout your entire, trembling body, he quickly begins thrusting himself wildly into you. With his fingers gripping the back of your neck, he holds you close to him, resting his forehead on yours as he fucks you through the explosion of bliss.
“That’s it,” the warmth swells to reach every limb before your body is coming down from the high, so beyond sensitive you can’t even form words. He continues to thrust himself into your dripping, spasming walls with wild force before he finally loses control. He huffs out a groan, his brow creasing and his eyes screwing shut. He rocks into your body so deep for the last time, surrounded by your warmth squeezing him as he finally releases inside of you.
“Christ,” he groans, collapsing on top of you, “I am fucking proud of you, understand?”
You nod, still taken back by how he never disappoints you.
He soothes you when he pulls out of you with many kisses to your lips, both of you whining at the loss.
He holds you close, legs intertwining with yours, the most sweetest whispers of your name from his lips.
“I love you, darling.”
#the 1975#matty healy#Matty Healy smut#Matty Healy fluff#Matty Healy imagine#matty healy x you#matty healy x reader#matty healy blurb#ross macdonald#george daniel#adam hann#the 1975 fic#ᶻ 𝘇mattyhealy
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happy pride
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what if i died for him and his slutty little stance? what then????
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