Matty Healy Imagines

More Than A One-Night Fling

Word Count: 1,896
Warnings: Smut
Summary: "One where the reader runs into Matty after a show and he invites her for drinks and a smoke in the tour bus with the boys and they hit it off and end up having like v intense, passionate sex."

"What am I, a groupie?"

On the contrary, Matty thought of you as anything but. He thought of you as, in no particular order, a goddess, a vision he had been longing for, a taste of divinity, and a bright spot that lit up his, apart from his earlier performance, shitty day. You showed up after the concert rocking an outfit that, without being flashy or obviously-trying, stood out. Matty saw you, caught eye of your flare and nature, and well...the rest was history. You ended up on the band's tour bus with a drink in one hand, a spliff in the other, and Matty's eyes gazing all up and down you. Truthfully, you had only planned on going home and crawling deep beneath your bed sheets to pass out. This alternate route, though blindsiding, did not exactly upset you. There is only so much that you can complain about when you are taken in by a visibly attractive man you are inspired by to hang after he blew your expectations away with a kick-ass concert.

Really, you could not complain.

"Are you sure you do not have somewhere to be?" George, who you did not realize was as tall as he was in person, chimed in from behind his spliff. "Really, you do not have to stay with us if you don't want to."

"Hey," Matty chided, "don't go on telling our guest to leave! She's having fun, right love?"

You chuckled, blowing clouds of smoke in their faces. They were a bickering duo, that was for sure. "It's alright guys, I'm doing just fine here. Thank you for your concern though, George. I appreciate it."

That was a win enough for George, for after giving you a sweet smile, he changed his expression to a more teasing one and flipped off Matty. Matty rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, {Y/N}, make yourself at home here. Our bus is your bus."

"At least for the time being," Ross replied, earning a giggle from George. Blushing, you put a hand on Matty's shoulder and smiled.

"Thanks, Matty."

The five of you, later six once John got done washing up, sat and chatted for hours, drinking and smoking until the entire bus smelled like weed and various hard liquors. Adam was the first to turn in, followed by Ross and John, and eventually George. Matty, undeniably, was determined to stay up until you were either fast asleep or safely on your way home. As touching as it was to begin with, the act went up tenfold with the introduction of alcohol and weed into your system. It was not long before you began to be a little more-than-friendly with Matty in thanks, sitting on his lap and giggling at his every word.

He, equally as intoxicated, hardly was opposed.

"I-I know you said earlier that you were not exactly missing out on anything," he drawled, playing with your hair, "but – would you like to stay here a little longer?"

A twinkle came to your eye. "What am I, a groupie?"

Matty laughed. "No, but you're beautiful. I'd hate to have only given you a few cheap drinks and some weed from this night. You deserve more than that. I'd give you my heart truthfully, if you'd take it."

"Was that a drunken confession, or are the drugs making you feel some sort of way?"

Matty's returned smile rendered the stars in the sky dim. "They are only words. Though, I would love nothing more than to prove them to you with more meaningful actions."

"Oh? And what are those?"

"I'll show you."

Show he did. In moments, his lips were on yours, fierce and pressing and enough to send you nearly leaning back off your seat. His hands found their way into your hair, tugging, begging you to believe his words. When he pulled back, you were breathless. His face had a wicked look to it, with his pupils dilated and his hair falling out of place and into his eyes. You giggled when you got your breath back because frankly it was all you could do. It made Matty laugh.