saccharine
- Reads 13,495
- Votes 413
- Parts 68
MatureOngoing3h 30m
Last published Sat, Jun 17, 2023
matty healy x reader fluff (all the things you wish he would say)
"I could say a thousand things to you right now that are nicer than that." He's quiet, choosing his words carefully now. "Easily."
"Hm." I don't say anything, hoping to encourage him into saying more.
"I could tell you that your voice is a sacred sound I've learned by heart." He whispers, softly pressing his lips to the top of my head. We sway together slowly. "I could tell you I memorize each graze of your arm, each unintentional brush, each absent and featherlight touch." He places his hands over my ears, muffling the silence around us. "I have so many things to tell you."
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talk! | matty healy
both endlessly denying what's wrong to make each other right. **contains smut, some violence and swearing, drug use (lower case intended)Complete
infatuation // m.h
"Please don't go." "I'm sorry." "I hate you." "Can we go somewhere?" "I forgive you." "Do you actually love me?" "I don't want to be here anymore." "I fucking love you." "I'm sorry." "Please stay." These were things said often between the two. They were so enthralled in each other. They couldn't get enough. Skin to skin wasn't close enough. Kissing constantly. Driving with hands gripping thighs. Hands tangled in hair. Nails clawing backs. Eyelashes brushing cheeks. Heads resting on chests. They wanted nothing more than to crawl into each other, and never come out. Say goodbye to the rest of the world and crawl away into their own. They loved each other so much that hand holding and neck kissing wasn't enough. Sex wasn't nearly as close as they'd like to be. They wrapped limbs through limbs and never wanted to let go. They couldn't stop. But minutes feel like hours spent apart. They spent hours in each other's arms. Listening to music, driving, singing, loving, living. They couldn't bare time apart. She was obsessed with him and he was in love with her. They romanticised each other. They wrote poetry and songs and lyrics and melodies about each other. He was hers and she was his. They belonged to each other. They smoked together and drank together and they couldn't stop. Maybe it was unhealthy. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was toxic, doomed to end badly. Maybe it'd kill them. (Maybe the drugs would.) Maybe they were being dangerous. Maybe this would be the death of them. But they didn't care. *smut warning in quite a few chapters lmaoo* published 2015Complete![Intersect. [MH] (Editing in Process)](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/113607807-256-k833829.jpg)
Intersect. [MH] (Editing in Process)
A Matty Healy fanfiction. CW; Drug use/abuse, mention of emotional abuse/breakdowns, sexual content, foul language. ** "Your thing is doors, yeah?" "I'm Matty by the way." "I'm Archer, what's your thing, Matty?" "Cocaine."Complete
Headliners
Dear Renewed Images, I am writing out to you over an urgent matter of one of my oldest clients and friends. I sincerely hope you hear my heart, as I am writing this from a hospital waiting room. My hurting friend, Matty Healy, is in dire need of PR help to renew his public image and give him a hand up through a clean slate. My assistant informs me that you are the best PR agency in London and have serviced many celebrities to get back on track with their lives. I am truly hoping for any and all help that you may perceive to help the situation. I am happy to discuss any of the finances personally as this is more of a personal matter rather than strictly business. Please see the attached article and podcast below to get an idea of how in depth this case may be for your agency. Thank You Dearly, Jamie Oborne
ACHES
"You're pretty," his fingertips found my jawline, "When you cry." "Only then?" I smirked, lip quivering. My skin warmed where he touched me. He licked his lower lip, shaking his head. He palpated for my jawbone, tracing it up to my ear. "Your eyes get all glassy and bright," his other hand brushed over my lower lashes. My breath froze in my lungs as I tried to stay still for him. "Your lips blush up, all flowery and springtime." My lips parted for his thumb, which pulled and pushed my bottom lip. I was burning from his attentive gaze, his wide-open pupils and concentrated brow. I was convinced he could see the heat coming off me. "And your skin," he kissed the center of my cheek, open-mouthed and wet. "You taste like the sea." "I-" Any words I tried to form caught in my tongue as he tasted my skin, inhaling as he moved down my jaw. He exhaled, a sweet breeze, cooling my flushed cheek. "You're moonlight on water," he kissed my neck. "You're distant rain, clouds falling into the horizon." I laughed, pulling back to look at him, "What are you, then?" He shrugged, blinking, "I'm watching."Complete
𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚. ⁽⁽⁽ᵐᵃᵗᵗʸ ʰᵉᵃˡʸ⁾⁾⁾
Wary of the decadence and skewed morals that her burgeoning music career might impose upon her, Joanna feels out of place at the rite-of-passage Notting Hill party her new manager has invited her to, until she encounters Matty - practically an old hand in the business, but sweetly untouched by their strange surroundings. The instincts and values Joanna used to cling to don't guide her now as well as they used to, and as the venues get bigger and the radio plays rack up, it becomes increasingly difficult to know what her friendship with Matty is really about. 'My ability to stay awake was waning, and I could feel myself dropping off, the darkness and warmth enveloping me. But somewhere in that liminal space, between consciousness and a blank stupor, I vaguely registered a hand finding mine across the sheets, fingers interlinking and holding it there, in the space between our faces.' (((* = mature content))) COMPLETED 19/11/20.Complete
Lover I Don't Have To Love
Los Angeles, 2013. The 1975 are on the edge of fame, and Matty Healy is unraveling as quickly as he's rising. In a sweat-soaked dive bar, he meets an aspiring actress with fire in her eyes and loneliness in her bones. Their connection is instant - cigarettes, bruised laughter, late-night confessions - but it isn't love. What begins as hunger and escape spirals into a ritual of destruction: hotel rooms, empty bottles, whispered promises, and the needle that binds them tighter than desire ever could. This is not a happy love story. It's a fever dream - two souls chasing oblivion, desperate to feel everything and nothing all at once.
Addiction/Affliction {M.Healy}
WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual content. Not recommended for precious little eyes. Please remember to practice safe sex always and don't fall in love with boys like Matty. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My middle finger scrolled through the questions on my laptop, tapping loudly in annoyance. "Do you find yourself interrupted by sexual thoughts or desires as you are completing mundane daily tasks?" I asked him. Matty's index finger was tracing the square of his jaw now, which was atypically speckled with perfectly symmetrical stubble. I noticed every detail about him, the curve of his lips, the slant of his brows, the itty-bitty moles scattered on his face. "Sometimes," he answered. "For example, today, I was thinking about you in the shower, about how nice it'd be to fuck you against the glass door." I grinded my teeth together and clenched my hands tight. "Matty," I said, trying to be as firm as possible. "Those kinds of comments are inappropriate." Especially because I was imagining the same thing this morning, and for him to have been doing the same thing, it floored me. "You said to answer as truthfully and honestly as possible, Jones," he shrugged, toying with his hair. "My turn? Am I frustrating you, darling?"Complete
both endlessly denying what's wrong to make each other right. **contains smut, some violence and swearing, drug use (lower case intended)
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