saccharine
- Reads 13,508
- 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."
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
Unrequited love
you're into drugs and I'm into you. maybe one day I can be something you're addicted to. //matty healy// -drugs, sexComplete
Be My Mistake - Matty Healy FanFic
//COMPLETE // ---- " Look at him" I chuckled with a wide smile as I studied Matty and Adam dancing around in circles with their guitars, practicing a guitar solo for tonight. " Yeah, he's been really happy the last couple of weeks," George said as he looked in the same direction. Matty and Adam were spinning around each other as they played with big grins on their faces. Honestly, it was quite cute. " Yeah, counter to popular believe he can be a nice person if he wants" I laughed seeing as he waved at me from the stage. " I know. All this time I thought he had just tired himself out from being a pain, but turns out his motivation to improve walks on two legs and has long brown curls." --- Rosie studies phsycology and moves to London to live with her cousin George to finish uni. She quickly finds out that George's flatmate Matty struggles with drugs, sleeplessness and moodswings - all of which she tries to help him cure. He needs an anchor. She's his anchor. --- If you want to follow my writing process, be able to influence my story choices, and maybe get the chance of having your own character in the book, please follow @mrserotonin.man on instagram :) Rankings: #1 in mattyhealy - 18th of August 2019 #4 in the1975 - 18th of August 2019 #1 in The1975fanfic - 30th of July 2019 #1 in Robbers - August 4th 2019Complete
The Radio Station
"I'm still not quite used to these proper radio interviews." He said as he reshuffled the headset over his clean shaven mohawk. "It all... feels so professional." She laughed in response to that, "Well, it's nice to know I'm doing my job right, then!" A sort of different story compared to what I've done in the past. Small snippets in time, across quite a bit of time, focused around radio interviews. Almost all of Matty's interview answers are verbatim transcribed from various interviews, but it's what happens around those answers that's the important stuff.Complete
ᗷᑌᑎᑎY TᗴᗴTᕼ | 𝐃.𝐖
Enemies to Lover's Dallas Winston x Female "Cat got your tongue" he whispered in my ear. I shrugged him off. "What makes you say that?" I asked him tilting my head a little. "You're a little quiet today" he answered. "Did it ever come to mind that I just don't want to talk to you" I said picking out a pencil. "There it is!" He said. cringey and there are some grammar mistakesComplete
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.
Conversation *ᴹᵃᵗᵗʸ ᴴᵉᵃˡʸ*
'It wasn't his intention to flirt with anyone today. But you seemed to have been sent by the universe for him to rile up a little.' ~*~*~*~ Matty boards a train at Manchester Piccadilly, expecting the journey to bore him to tears. Two hours and one sparkling conversation later, by the time he reaches London Euston he's formed a thoroughly unexpected connection. For you the opportunity of a lifetime arrises, and it would be idiotic to pass up. As more time is spent together, your connection becomes stronger and it has the possibility to become the greatest love either of you will ever know. ~*~*~*~*~*~Complete
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
So far, it's alright.
You're in New York, loud, hungry, impossible New York, where everything's moving too fast and nothing ever really lands. Your best friend drags you out to some half-legal speakeasy, a hidden gem from people in the industry, swears it'll change your life like he always does, and maybe you let him. Maybe because it's easier than sitting at home with your own silence. You don't go looking for Matty Healy. You just find him, or maybe he finds you. Cigarette between his teeth, knuckles tattooed and jaw shadowed, half-drunk on something expensive and godlike without even trying. He's all sharp lines and soft ruin, the kind of man who speaks in riddles and sings like he's bleeding. You're a photographer...freelance, half-known, half-hungry..and you've made a career out of capturing chaos, but nothing prepares you for him. You shouldn't want him, you know that. But want doesn't ask permission. And once you fall in, it's like being dragged under by a current you didn't know was there. This isn't just a love story. It's about the wreckage you carry and the parts of you that music drags back to life. It's about grief that doesn't knock, about needing too much and trying to want less. You lose yourself in his world, in the green rooms and red lights, the 3 a.m. truths, the hangover confessions. The fame, the heat, the damage. And him, always him, in the eye of it all. It's not tidy, nor clean. It's real. Once it starts, there's no going back. So far, it's alright.
you're into drugs and I'm into you. maybe one day I can be something you're addicted to. //matty healy// -drugs, sex
More detailsContent Guidelines