To Read After Work

To read after work

unplanned - ross macdonald x reader

chapter 1

a/n: hello! i posted this a long time ago but was very unsatisfied with it, so i took it down to polish up and am far more pleased with this version! plz let me know what u think :) excited to write this.

you feel frightened by how quickly you jolt awake; once you had finally managed to fall asleep last night it was deep, the kind you knew would have been refreshing had it lasted. but only a few hours have passed, and as soon as you’re awake you panic because you know why this has happened. the nausea hits you immediately and you run to the bathroom down the hall, not even worrying about trying to keep quiet despite the fact your grandmother is asleep just down the hall and you don’t want her to know what’s been going on with you the last few days.

it’s a close call but you make it just in time, emptying your stomach even though there’s really not much left at this point. you try to be quiet but your retching is loud enough that once you’re finished you hear a small knock on the door.

“darling, are you ok?” you hear your nana ask on the other side of the door.

you lie your head back against the tub, grabbing a cold washcloth you had left from when you’d been in this same situation a few hours before and putting in on your forehead.

“i’m fine, nan. something i ate i suppose,” you say back, weakly.

“alright then. i’m going back to bed but if you need anything let me know.”

“thanks nan.” you want to cry thinking about how sweet she is, how much you will miss her when you finally head back to the city. you have been here all summer, and all of the paid time off you should have been saving for an upcoming wedding and honeymoon is gone, spent instead on feeling sorry for yourself, mourning the loss of your new home, a large group of your friends, and of course, your relationship with ross. you are due to return to london today, and back to work tomorrow. you try and take deep breaths as you lie there, then get up, brush your teeth, and head back to your room. you lie back in bed, thankful for how cool your sheets feel on your face and your back, then pick your phone up off the bedside table. 5 am. you will be leaving the house in just two hours.

you unlock it and see you have two texts. both you are expecting, but one you dread.

the first is from your friend, gemma, confirming the time you’ll be at her flat this morning . you’ll be staying with her temporarily until you can find a place of your own, at least you hope. you wait to respond, as your answer will depend on what lies ahead in your next message.

it’s from ross:

yeah, i suppose i can meet up. what time

you hate how indifferent his tone is. you know it’s just a text, that a lot can get lost when you’re communicating without seeing or hearing him, but you still have a gut feeling that he is not happy to be hearing from you.

you stare at the screen for several minutes, feeling incapable of responding. you lock and unlock your phone several times, another knot forming in your stomach. you’re sure he’s not awake, that’s he’s barely thought about you since he received your message asking if you could see each other and talk, but you also can’t help but worry that he knows you’ve read your message, that you’re taking so long to respond. you can’t think rationally right now after the news you’ve received yesterday.

you unlock your phone again then go to your mail app, where you have an email from your doctor with your blood results. you scroll to the bottom and see the words again, still as big of a shock to your system as they were when you read them the first time: PREGNANCY (HCG) - POSITIVE.

over the last couple of weeks, you could sense that something was off. you’d felt far more tired than normal; when you’d first arrived at the beginning of the summer, you had made a habit of spending your afternoons gardening with your nana, but the heat seemed to be getting to you more easily now. but when you’d started throwing up a few days before, you realized you had missed your second period in a row. upon this realization you had texted gemma immediately, panicking, but she tried and reassured you that maybe it had just been the unduly high amount of stress you’d been under. but when you did the math in your head of the last time you and ross had slept together, you knew you wouldn’t get any reassurance until you’d seen your doctor.

you exit the mail app and go back to your messages, staring at the blinking cursor. finally you respond:

does noon sound ok? i’m driving back from nan’s this morning so i can just meet you as soon as i get back into the city. maybe at that coffee shop around the block from my office?

you sit up against the headboard after you hit send, feeling your eyes well up again. you are so scared about telling him, scared of how he will react, scared of seeing him again for the first time in two and a half months. you’d known that eventually you would have to contact him again; your stuff was still in the house you’d shared after all, you were going to have to fetch it eventually. but you had not expected your first meeting after your breakup to be under such strange circumstances.

by now it’s 5:45, and you figure you might as well get up and start packing. before you can get out of bed, your cat, harvey, jumps up and starts rubbing his head against your hands, purring up a storm. you smile through your tears at him; he is so old, his fur is patchy, he’s half blind, but he has been a constant source of comfort for you during your summer stay at your nana’s.

you continue to cry as you pull your suitcase out from under your bed and put your things in it. you don’t want to go back to what you have left behind. you still don’t think you have even fully processed your breakup with ross; the night you’d broken up with him, you’d immediately packed a bag that night and driven up to liverpool. you hadn’t looked back, and because of that you’d spent the whole summer distracting yourself rather than dealing with your grief. your nana had been wonderful, and had offered to talk things out with you several times, but you’d always refused. you feel guilty for not telling her what’s going on now, but you don’t want to tell anyone until you know exactly how you are going to handle the situation.

once your things are in your suitcase, you wash your face, throw on a pair of jean shorts and an old t-shirt, then pack harvey up in his crate and head downstairs, where your nana is making tea and toast. she follows you out to your car, giving you a big hug before you get in. you start crying again as you hold her tightly, not wanting to let go.

“it’ll be ok, sweetheart. you’ll make it through, i promise,” she says, rubbing your back.

“i love you, nana,” you say, still holding her arms as you pull away. “thank you for everything.”

“i love you too, more than you will ever know. give me a ring when you make it back to gemma’s.” she watches as you get in your car, start the engine, and drive off, and you sob as you see her fade away in your rear view mirror.

the drive to london passes in silence, but it’s quick, as you spend the whole time trying to play out how you will break this news to ross. you practice different scenarios out loud, occasionally glancing down to see harvey glaring back up at you from his carrier in the passenger seat, grateful he’s there to help you calm down when you start to feel like you’re getting too worked up about it. when you finally arrive in the city you make a quick stop at gemma’s flat, where she’s left a key for you at the front desk while she’s at work so you can drop off harvey and your suitcases. once you set up his food and water bowls and his litter box you look at your watch. it’s now 11:57.

“shit,” you say out loud, leaving the flat and walking the six blocks as fast as you can to the cafe where you are supposed to meet him. you’d wanted to get there early, to compose yourself as much as possible before he arrived, but the time had gotten away from you.

when you arrive you are a little out of breath, and feel a bit alarmed because you don’t immediately see him. it was unlike him to be late, and while you were driving down the thought of him not showing up at all had occurred to you more than once. but you catch your breath as your eyes take a second glance around the cafe and see him sitting in the corner booth, his coffee already at the table, staring at his phone. after a few seconds he looks up and sees you, gives you a small wave; as he does he gives you a strange look, not exactly a frown and not exactly a smile, a grimace of sorts. you wave back and try to force a small smile, then go to the counter to order.

while you wait for the barista to finish up your drink, you look over at him a few times. he looks good; hair up, arms looking more toned than usual, skin tanned, most likely from his time spent outdoors on the festival circuit this year. he and the boys had seemingly hit a high this summer from what you could tell when you would torture yourself by checking instagram. it bothered you that he looked so good and you looked so pitiful, showing up with a puffy face, frizzy hair, no makeup on. you curse yourself for not thinking of that possibility, but aren’t able to dwell on it for long because your name is being called.

he does not stand up or greet you as you approach the table, just locks his phone and looks up at you when you sit down, folding his hands. “hi,” you say, softly, again trying to force a smile you know he’ll be able to see through.

“hey. alright?” he says, a little too politely.

“fine. sorry i’m so late. lost track of time.”

he chuckles a little at that, giving you a small smile. “i wouldn’t expect anything less.”

you smirk, looking down at your coffee as you stir it nervously with your spoon. “you look well. have things been okay with the band and all that?”

“yeah, really good. just got home from a long run of festivals a couple days ago. don’t have much else planned until the new year, so it’ll be nice to have a few months off.”

that’s nice,” you say, looking back up at him. the tension is sharp, and there is an awkwardness, but even so you can’t believe how kindly he is acting toward you after everything that went down. you’re both silent for a few moments, eyes wandering around the room, not sure what to say next; you keep trying to figure out when to bring it up without it seeming like too big of a bomb, but you’re kidding yourself if you think there’s a way to tell him organically.

but just before you’re about to speak up again, he clears his throat. “erm…have you figured out where you’re staying yet? sort out a flat or anything?”

you take another sip of coffee. “not exactly…like i said, i literally just got back from staying with my nana. think i’ll just be crashing with gemma until I can find a flat. might be a while though. i’ve applied to several places but keep getting rejected because of my credit.”

“shit,” he says. “sorry about that.”

you can tell by the way his jaw clenches that he wants to say something else on the subject, something about how this could have been prevented, but he bites his tongue. you nearly roll your eyes at this, but continue. “it’s alright, really. i’ll make it work. you, um, is it still okay with you if i keep my things at the house until i sort something out? i promise i’ll get them out as soon as i find a place. just can’t really afford storage at the moment.”

“sure, i don’t mind. not bothering me. i’ve only been back from tour for about a week myself so everything is sort of all over the place at the house anyway.”

another silence. then, he goes again.

“your nana doing alright?”

“yes, she’s doing really well. still as active as ever. and your family?”

“great. my parents are supposed to come visit in a few weeks i think.”

“good.”

another silence. you start to pick at the skin on your thumbs a little, and watch as he taps his phone, pretending to look distracted. from your side of the table you can see that only about seven minutes have passed since you sat down, but you feel like it’s been hours. a lump builds in your throat when you realize this; if anyone had told you this would be how things between the two of you would be a year ago, you would have laughed at how absurd a notion that was. you can’t believe the two of you were a couple for four years before this; you are behaving as if you’ve never met.

you swallow, take a deep breath, and then look him straight in the eyes.

“look, ross, there’s something i need to tell you.”

“i suspected,” he returns, a little too sarcastically for your liking.

you take another deep breath before deciding to brush his comment off, then say, “i…i’ve tried to think of about a million different ways to tell you this without just totally blindsiding you, but i guess that’s not really possible because i just found out myself and…and…” your eyes are starting to well up again, a couple of tears escaping and running down your face.

he starts to look alarmed now, his eyes getting wider. he adjusts his hands a little, at first looking like he’s about to extend one to you, but then remembering his place, remembering that that might no longer be appropriate, and puts them back together again. he doesn’t say anything, though, just keeps staring at you, searching your face and listening intently.

“okay, erm…i’m pregnant.”

another silence, but his face speaks volumes. obviously, he’s stunned; there is no expression, just his brown eyes still wide, his mouth a straight line. he stays quiet for about a minute, keeps his gaze right on you, eye contact not breaking. slowly, he sits up straighter in his chair, messes a little with his watch band, then takes a breath, looking out the window next to you as he does so.

“uh…” is all he can muster up. you wipe another few tears with a napkin. after you do so, he says, “okay. when did you find this out?”

“yesterday,” you say, setting the napkin back on the table now, feeling a little relief since you’ve at least spilled the beans. “got it tested through bloodwork, so it’s official.”

“okay.” he’s looking down now, continuing to mess with his watch band, not looking you in the eyes anymore. “and…okay, i’m sorry, what i’m about to say might make me sound like a massive dickhead, but you’re sure it’s mine?”

dagger straight to the heart. “oh my fucking god,” you say, starting to raise your voice a little bit, but catching yourself. “of course. do you really think i would…is that what you think of me?”

“okay, i’m sorry, i’m sorry. that was unfair.” he puts his hands up, like you’re pointing a gun at him or something. “i haven’t seen you or spoken to you since you left. it’s been, like, three months. i just had to be sure.”

you sigh. “no…it’s ok, i get it. this is…it’s just a lot for both of us.”

he scratches his nose, then puts his hands behind his neck and leans back against the chair, looking out the window again. “no, it was a stupid thing to say. i just…am shocked. and…like, you’re sure? i’m just trying to think how this could have happened.”

you can’t believe how thick he’s acting. yes, toward the end, you two had barely been having sex, and you know this comment is a petty allusion to that fact, but again, you try to keep your patience with him. “come on, ross. i know we were having issues, but…” you give him a stern look. “don’t you remember the last time? that party at george and charli’s when we both got wasted and fucked in the linen closet?”

his eyes get big again, it finally dawning on him. “oh. but…I mean you still have the iud and all that right? just because…”

“unlikely, but not impossible.”

just then, a ghastly smell from the counter hits your nose, and you feel a wave of nausea hit you again. you stand up quickly, halfway shout an “excuse me,” to ross, then run to the toilet as quickly as possible, throwing up the coffee. when you wipe your face off and rinse out your mouth with water, you look in the mirror. you look like shit, you feel like shit. you stand there and stare at yourself, furious that you’re in this situation, dreading returning to your table. but when you walk back out the door, ross is standing in the corridor, waiting on you. hands in his pockets, he looks extremely concerned.

“are you ok?”

you wipe a little sweat off your forehead, and reply, quietly, “i’ll be fine. morning sickness, i expect.”

“do you want to get out of here and go for a walk?”

“sure.”

the two of you keep your hands in your pockets as you walk side by side. you can’t help but notice how strange it feels; even toward the end you rarely walked anywhere together without his hand in yours, his thumb rubbing up and down the back. the silence between you now is a little more comfortable at least. you both know you have things you must say, but you’ve come to an understanding that, at least until you get to your destination, you can keep quiet. about twenty minutes pass before you reach a park you two would often visit when he would meet you after work and you find a bench you can sit on. when you sit down, you start to notice loads of families, many with prams. you try to imagine yourself with one, but shiver a little at the thought.

“so…um…have you decided what you’re going to do?” ross breaks the silence.

“no, i haven’t really considered all the options i suppose. still trying to let it all sink in.”

“what’s your first instinct?”

you laugh a little. “not a fucking clue. was going to see what you thought, to be honest.”

“oh, this is the thing you want my opinion on?” he retorts, and the two of you really start laughing then, a deep, refreshing chuckle you could feel in your belly. “four years with the most opinionated woman i’ve ever met who constantly reminds me she doesn’t need my thoughts, then all of a sudden a child’s in the mix and she wants me to make the decision.”

“hey,” you slap his arm, playfully. “i always take your opinion into consideration. when i ask for it.”

“oh, really? and please enlighten me, when was the last time you asked my opinion for anything? i can’t seem to recall.”

“seems like i asked you what kind of fencing we should consider for the garden when we were getting ready to start the renovation.”

“only because i was going to have to be the one to put it up.” he smiles at you sweetly as both of your laughter fades, and for a second you feel like nothing between you ever changed, that the last few months had just been a bad dream and things were how they were supposed to be. “seriously, though,” he starts again, “it’s your decision. i’ll be fine with whatever you decide. it’s your body.”

you sigh. “right now i’m thinking i’ll wait until after the first scan and then decide.”

“seems reasonable enough.”

“do you…um…do you want to come with me for that?”

“do you want me there?”

you smirk a bit. “who else would i bring along? harvey?”

he laughs again at this. “sick bastard would probably puke all over the table, make it all about himself.”

you giggle, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “is that a yes, then?”

“of course.”

you look up at him, taking in the way he smiles, the little lines around his eyes that you love so much and how much his dimples pop out. it’s killing you how much you’ve missed this, how much you’ve missed him. you have to fight back the urge to touch him, to take his hand or kiss his cheek. “thank you. and also, sorry, i guess.”

“sorry? it’s not like i’m blameless in this situation either. you do know how making a baby works, right?”

he walks you home shortly after; still contactless, another silence settles between you two, but this one is far more comfortable. you are still scared shitless, but you still feel as though an enormous weight has been lifted off your shoulders knowing that, at least for the moment, ross is not going to abandon you completely.

as you approach the steps of gemma’s building, he says, “you still look a bit green. are you sure you’ll be alright for now?”

“yeah, i think so. this has been going on for a few days now. i’m just going to try and take it easy until i have to go back to the office tomorrow.”

“when is the scan?”

“next tuesday at 2:00.”

“i can drive us there. if you want, that is.”

“i don’t think i’d mind.” you give him a small smile.

“okay…well, see you then?” he puts his hands behind his back. you can tell he is unsure how to say goodbye to you; as long as you’ve known him he’s never left you at least without a hug. but, especially with the bizarre twist of events that today has brought on, he is unsure what is allowed, and doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

“see you then.” you don’t reach out, you just turn from him and begin to walk up the stairs, seeing him walk away from the building when you talk. quick glance back. when you get back up to gemma’s flat, you hear your phone ding as you sit on the sofa, greeted by your cat, who nestles into you as you unlock your phone. it’s from ross:

i forgot to mention this, but if you need anything from me between now and tuesday, let me know. i’ll be around. xx

you smile at this, and cannot help but feel grateful that, even though your relationship with him is an absolute wreck, and you are uncertain what the future holds, that there is a small glimmer of a possibility that your lives will still be somehow entangled, at least for a little bit longer.

Tags

ross macdonald x reader ross macdonald fanfiction ross macdonald x you

More Posts from Soil-just-needs-water-to-be and Others

soil-just-needs-water-to-be

2 years ago

Chapter 7

Word count 1210

This chapter is from George’s POV , the first one of many and I swear I love writing George and everything about it is amazing

Mention: sickness and vomit again , mention of mental health issues , and mention of nightmares

George's POV

After Matty fell asleep I just watched him laying there for a while he looks peaceful when he sleeps I know I've only know him a day but by god does he look like the first time he's been at peace with himself since the first Snapchat I got. I take the time to just study his face. He fell sleep wearing his glasses but I felt bad keeping him up but I'm sure he'll take them off if he does wake. His tight curls falling across his face make him look really young and he's buried under his covers and he looks so cozy under there. I can't say the same for myself it's so cold in this room it always is. It's not that late it's only about nine so I just busy myself with anything and everything, He lets out a little content noises every now and again which makes me smile. I really wish I knew how to help him. He really seems like he's having a hard time.

I take out my phone and decide that maybe a few hours of Netflix will surifice and maybe I can get some sleep too. I stick on family guy just to occupy myself. Finally starting on the snacks I brung up. I don't get that hungry after smoking not as bad as I used to so maybe I did take up to much but hey ho there's more for another time. I watch about two episodes and get through a few chocolate bars before I hear movement on his end I look up from my phone and it doesn't look like he is there. In the sun light of his room I can't really see but I assume he's gotten up to use the bathroom. Then I hear it drowned out retching from another room I really hope that's not him and if it is I really wish I could be there to help .

All I can do is wait for him to come back.

After a few minutes , more light seeps through the screen and I hear a tired small voice "Maffu. I had a nightmare". The small voice was trembling and had been crying. I then hear Matty his voice even further away a little less clear but I make it out "Hold on a minute Kiddo" that was quickly followed by more retching. "Are you okay Maffu , do you need me to get Mummy?" .

"No Kiddo it's okay , mummy isn't here right now". I hear a door open quickly and the patter of small feet going across the room. I don't quite know what's going on but I do hear some of the conversation something about nightmares and the kid asking if he can have a story. I hear Matty agree. The light that was slightly engulfing the room then disappearing slowly.

After sometime Matty comes back and into the room and over to his bed "Everything okay". He jumps at the sound of my voice I guess having forgot he asked me to stay. "Sorry didn't mean to startle you". He puts on his bedside lamp and slides his hands down his face. "No it's okay don't worry about it, Sorry if I woke you"

"I haven't slept yet it's only like ten o'clock, Is everything okay though?"

"Yeh, Louie had a nightmare so I just went to help him get back to sleep and read him a story". He smiles at me, looking at me through his long eyelashes

"And before that ?". I probably shouldn't have brung it up but it's done now. "Just my stomach acting up again, it's nothing to worry about"

"Have you been sick for long?"

"Few days I guess, but it's getting better, I think"

"How are you dealing with it, it doesn't sound like it's okay?"

"I get like this sometimes, Im used to it , I think it's just stress and all that". He waves it off like it's okay and that I shouldn't worry but I think I should be worried "Does it happen more often than it should ?"

"I don't know, I really don't". He lays back down properly and throws an arm over his eyes "do mind if I turn the light back off my heads killing me bro"

"No, go ahead, it's okay, can I ask you something , it might be personal but you don't have to answer". I wait for him to get comfortable again back in the position he was in before with his arm over his face "Sure go ahead"

I straighten up a little bit as the question might come across rude if I don't ask it right and I've never been good at expressing myself correctly "Do you uh...Do you, have you ever had really low mental health like has it ever gotten to a point you didn't want to be here?"

"I mean....uh...I've maybe always felt like that but not ALL the time I suppose...I have really bad mood swings sometimes but...it's not always there". I can see him really thinking about it trying to come up with a reasonable answer "I mean yeh but I'm 17 who doesn't at my age for whatever reason?"

"Do you feel that way now?" again it's personal but I really need to know if I should be worried and How much help he really needs at this point.

"Um ...I uh , maybe a little bit". He pauses for a moment removing his arm from his face and looks at me directly "I honestly just feel like I'm losing my damn mind and I can't stop it or shut it up or calm it down, literally it's just spiralling man , I don't know what's going on anymore"

"I'm sorry Matty". The tears are falling down his face now "I know you called me to be distracted and maybe not be in your head for a while but I promise I'm going to do anything I can to get you feeling yourself again"

"I don't even care about being myself right now , I just want to feel safe in my own head honestly"

"Does anyone else know?"

"I did have a chat with my Head of Year before I left , it wasn't a big chat and it wasn't that serious but she wants to talk more tomorrow so I might be going back into counselling I suppose". He shrugs just as he says that and I really hope I didn't upset him. "Would you like to get some more sleep, I can stay on and try sleep too ?"

"That would be great thank you". I know that the conversation was pretty serious but I know it can take a lot out of someone when your speaking the truth and he really must be tired so offering to let him sleep is the least I can do and I want to do anything I can to keep him safe now

"Goodnight Matty , I'll be right here if you need anything"

"Goodnight Georgie , thanks for being here tonight" he smiles at me one last time before we pull the covers around ourselves and wave at each other in the camera as we both try to

Tags

the 1975 matty healy george daniel adam hann ross macdonald the 1975 fanfic

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soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

let me come home

content warnings: f! reader, angst, fluff, smut, sex toys, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex m receiving, oral sex f receiving, drug mentions (weed and ecstasy)

word count: 3.7k

Your sneakers squeak on the pristine tile floor of the hotel lobby as you hurry to the elevator. With your hoodie over your head, you look down at your phone.

“1221” says the most recent text. You whip your head up long enough to smile at the elevator attendant and tell him where you’re headed. Inside the small box, you feel flustered; claustrophobic with excitement and anxiety and anticipation. When you reach the twelfth floor, you dart out quicker than is polite and look behind you as you scan the room numbers in front of you. 17, 19, 21. You look to both sides again before knocking twice. Finally, the door swings open and you’re face to face with a jogger-clad Matty. He looks soft around the edges, worn-out. It’s probably the jet lag. He beams at the sight of you and you push past him into the room.

“Did you get the pigs in a blanket?” you ask him once you’ve left your shoes at the door. His face falls and his brows furrow.

“What kind of greeting is that?” he returns. You look at him blankly in a stalemate.

“They said it will be 45 minutes,” he relents. Your face lights up and you greet him with a kiss on the cheek. And the neck. Matty wraps his arms around you and leans down to kiss the top of your head. The sweet floral scent of your hair fills his lungs, intoxicating him more than any joint or drink could.

“Not to get you all riled up, but I sprung for some orange juice as well,” he says into your hair. You chuckle good-naturedly and lean up to meet his lips in a homecoming kiss. Your skin begins to sing as he kisses you back insistently, parting your lips with his tongue. You whimper softly at the euphoric feeling, already beginning to spread to your head and limbs.

“Think we can go for a round before they come up with it?” you ask conspiratorially.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” he replies. You’re smiling as he picks you up by your bum and carries you to the king sized bed, plopping you down unceremoniously in the middle. You move towards the top of it and shrug your hoodie off, revealing a red lace bra. Matty moves to cover you with his body as you get comfortable, your head against the plush, cold pillows.

One of his hands moves to trace the outline of your bra, flesh strains against the delicate fabric, practically begging to be released. He licks his bottom lip absentmindedly and his hand fully envelops your breast.

“Fuck, all this for me?” he asks. You roll your eyes.

“Obviously,” you smile back at him.

“You spoil me sweetheart. So fucking gorgeous,” his words are like syrup, sticky and sweet. They coat your tongue with sugar and go to straight your head. They linger in your mind when he's gone. You wish you could bottle them or press them into vinyl. Play them for your family and friends. Look, this is real. I’m his. A pang of hurt hits you right behind the eyes.

Matty is pressing soft, chase kisses to the exposed flesh on your chest. He looks so content– at home. Are you each others' homes?

“You okay baby?” he looks up at you, all pink lips and flushed skin and blown-out pupils, “you’re not taking the piss out of me for being sentimental.” His words make you chuckle, and snap from your melancholia. Your hands find his soft brown hair in answer to his question.

“I’m perfect. Fuck, keep going please,” his hands are around your back in no time, fumbling with the clasp of your bra. You arch your back to grant him more access and he groans at the feeling of you pressed into him. The euphoria clouds his mind and his fingers move uselessly behind you. You move your hand to cover them.

“Here, I got it,” you chuckle.

“No. Fuck, please let me. You went to all this effort, I wanna unwrap you myself,” he finally undoes the clasp and you lift your arms as he peels the garment off of you, brushing his lips down your arm as he does. Your breasts, once held up perfectly by the lingerie, flatten on your chest, you look down at them. Matty catches you looking.

“Don’t worry, they’re perfect,” he kisses the valley between your tits, right next to your heart. “Perfect, perfect,” the movements of his mouth massage the soft flesh of your right breast as he moves further in. “Perfect,” he says and captures your right nipple in his mouth, immediately swirling his tongue around it, wetting you completely. His teeth close softly around the bud and just when you think you’ve got him figured out, he replaces them with his lips, sucking devotedly at you. Your skin is on fire and he’s the only one who can extinguish it. You know he’ll bring you right to the edge of burning down before he does.

You arch up into the feeling of his warm mouth and have a moment of clarity long enough to realize he’s still in his t-shirt. Your hands move to the hem and push it up his rigid stomach.

“Off, off, off,” you say deliriously. It’s meant to be sexy, but it comes out whiney, needy. Why are you always so needy?

Your thoughts are cut off by the sight of his fair skin littered with tattoos, passing thoughts he’s memorialized on his body. Your lusty eyes devour him and all of the sudden you need more control.

“Switch with me,” you demand. He obliges without a word and you take your leggings off as he shuffles around on his back. You move back over him, now clad only in a red thong that barely functions as underwear. Matty notices it at the same time you do: you’ve left a wet mark on his gray sweatpants where you straddled him. He reaches down to touch the damp fabric between your thighs, warm and inviting. He plays with the lace, pulling it up so it rubs deliciously between your folds and roughly on your clit. Your head falls back and you begin to grind against his hand as he moves the fabric back and forth, finally gathering the friction you came here for. His fingers wander down to your hole and push tentatively into you. He’s only halfway in when he pulls them out. Your eyes snap up to him annoyed. He offers you a conciliatory glance.

“Can I eat you out?”

You’re appeased. You dismount him to shuck your last stitch of clothing off. As you crawl back up his body, his eyes catch yours.

“You thought I was gonna be mean? What on earth would make you think that?” Your mind’s eye flashes back to a reunion a month ago, your hands tied beautifully above your head as Matty edged you cruelly with a vibrator. Come and get it, greedy girl. The obscenities echo in your head. You blush at the thought and at his taunts.

“Shut up,” you say timidly, and cover his face with your wet cunt. He’s got his arms around your thighs and his tongue slicing up between your folds, treating you to a variety of sensations as he pays attention to each sensitive part of you. Your hands come up to brace yourself against the headboard as he begins to work on your clit, licking in sweet sideways strokes before sucking it into his mouth. As the pressure in your body increases, you begin to ride his face, furiously chasing your release.

“Mmmmph fuck, good girl,” the vibrations from his moans go straight into your pussy and increase your pleasure tenfold.

“Please, please stay like that. I’m gonna cum,” you warn. He releases a lengthy moan into you as you continue to chase your peak. He knows he’s the only person to have ever made you cum, and he still gets off on it every time. He moves his mouth away from you long enough for you to hear what he’s saying.

“Cum for me, please. Need you all over my face baby,” and with that he’s back in you everywhere. Hands coming to cover your backside and reach into your wetness, his tongue licking up into your hole, filling you. His nose bumps into your clit at intervals that drive you crazy. But what tips you over the edge is when he moves his hand to the bottom of your entrance, pushing gently against your back wall. You feel so full and euphoric as your orgasm washes over you, starting at the space between your legs and spreading to your chest, your fingers, your nose. You ride him through it and stop when you can’t take it anymore, breathing heavily. His fingers are still pressed inside you. He’s obsessed with knowing it’s real, feeling your heartbeat against his fingers and face. You know you can never fake it with him, and what’s more you don’t have to.

You move off of him and lay on your back. He ducks to the side to clean himself a bit and then leans over to kiss you. You put your hand on his head and move him away gently.

“My face is numb. Can’t feel you,” you say bashfully.

“Yeah?” he’s proud and smiling, eyes squinted so tight you can’t make out his irises.

“Sorry,” you say.

“Please, that’s the best reason I’ve ever heard not to kiss someone,” he grins and pulls you into his chest to come down. Your hands come up to the space below his ribs, trace his top abdominals, get lost in the sweet smattering of chest hair that covers his tattoos.

A knock at your door snaps you from your reverie. You hurry under the duvet as Matty gets up, stretching his muscular arms gratuitously before heading to the door.

The hotel worker has a table he’s wheeling around and he begins to push it into the room. Matty is quick to stop the table and wink at the guy.

“I’ll take it from here, mate thanks,” he says and hands him a $20 note. With the door finally closed, Matty rolls your midnight snack over to your side of the bed. He pours you orange juice from the carafe before crossing the room to faff about with his luggage. You watch him curiously as you sip on your orange juice, slowly feeling the weight return to your body as you replenish your blood sugar. He produces a beautifully wrapped box from his duffel.

“What’s this?” you ask. It’s not uncommon for Matty to give you gifts, but he’s always finding some way to surprise you. He’s sweet, impossibly sweet. Though you suppose it must be easy to be nice when you’re rich. You push the thought away. Nothing exists outside of these four walls. Nothing exists except us.

He gets into bed and slots himself behind you. He kisses your shoulder as he places the parcel on the covers.

“Open it,” he insists. You rip the wrapping paper eagerly and see the box of a beautiful — that’s really the only word you could use to describe it — vibrator. It’s the fanciest you’ve ever seen: pink and white and gold. You want to laugh, of course he’d make an investment when it comes to this.

“You’re crazy, this is a fancy fucking vibrator,” you chuckle and lean your head against him. He reaches over to the table and uncovers the pigs in a blanket. He feeds one to you tenderly before enveloping you in his arms.

“You know our sex is too good for second rate toys,” he states, smiling into your neck. You finish chewing and turn around in his lap before hugging him around his neck.

“All this and room service?” you tease, opening the box excitedly.

“What can I say, I’m a generous guy,” he smiles slyly, taking the box from your struggling hands, “Now hurry up and eat, I wanna use it on you.” Your heart jumps into your throat.

“I don’t need to eat, I’m ready now,” you tell him, defiant. He loves it, loves how eager you are, how badly you want him, how you treat him like he’s the only person you’ve ever had. He traces his pointer finger over your cupid's bow.

“I’m ready too, darlin’ but I need you to eat something. After that I’ll keep you up all night long. I promise,” he coos. He grabs two more bites of food and gives one to you, cheersing you before eating his whole.

—

Matty gently removes the vibrator from your swollen, red clit and gets up off the bed as he quickly rids himself of his boxers. He leans back over your face and kisses you, admiring your blissed out expression.

“Do I need to get a condom?” he knows that, with you guys, it’s not always safe to go without. He wouldn’t pressure you, but he knows you’d rather feel him wholly, if you can. Obviously, he feels the same way. You blush a little.

“I’m actually good this time. I’ve not been with anyone else,” you don’t know why you’re shy about it. Surely, he wouldn’t find that lame, would he? No, he would like it, you think. He would like that he’s the only person to have been with you recently. Maybe you’re kidding yourself. He touches your face and snaps you out of it.

“I haven’t either,” he says calmly, “don’t trust anyone like I trust you.” He climbs back over top of you and kisses you deeply, “turn over for me, yeah?”

You oblige, settling comfortably on your stomach. He moves a pillow under your hips and hikes your right leg up at an angle on the bed. You hear buzzing again behind you as Matty positions the vibrator on your clit.

“You feel good?” he asks.

“Yes,” you’re a little out of breath, dumb with anticipation, “Need you though. Need it harder.”

You feel him running up and down through your folds, almost dipping into you. You moan obnoxiously, too proud to tell him again how much you need him. It’s enough for him, he pushes into you unhurriedly, savoring the moment, relishing in every inch he stretches you. When he bottoms out, he moves his hands up beside your shoulders and whispers in your ear.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Can I move?” You nod frantically into the pillow and he begins to snap his hips into yours. You feel your heartbeat everywhere as your pleasure begins to build. Matty covers your hands in his and stretches them out in front of you, keeping you in place as he fucks you precisely. Each time he bottoms out, he presses your clit perfectly against the vibrator.

“Good girl. You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he pants in your ear. He’s dominant, but it’s sweet and the perfect mixture of submission and pride swirls around your foggy brain as you begin to float. You try to focus on one feeling at a time, his cock sliding in and out of you, his hands on yours’, his warm breath on your ear, the vibrations on the tortured nub between your legs. It’s too much all together. You let yourself go, brain wiping completely as you buck senselessly against the pillow, trying to meet his hips. You cum without realizing that the feeling was creeping up on you, attacked with pleasure as you collapse on the bed in total bliss. Matty’s not far behind, watching you unravel beneath him makes his ego swell and he fucks into you even harder than before.

“I need a second,” you say. It catches Matty off-guard and he stills above you, pulling out slowly. He turns you on your back so he can see your eyes.

“You okay?” he searches your face for any discomfort.

“I’m fucking great. Just sensitive. Were you close?” you ask, suddenly concerned you’ve ruined it for him.

“Yeah, I was,” he seems unbothered. He smiles down at you. You take his hard cock in your hand and begin to pump him over your stomach. “Fuuuuuuuck,” his head rolls back, “can I come in your mouth?”

You kneel in response and push him down onto his back and take him in your mouth, bobbing up and down, wetting him completely and keeping the pressure on him. He reaches out to grab your hand as he begins to spurt into your mouth. The salty tang of him tastes like victory. You smile at him; a content, fucked out grin and then swallow. He wipes a bit left over by the side of your mouth.

“C’mere,” he whines and pulls you into him again. “Goddamn you’re so good to me.”

“Aw don’t go soft on me now, Healy,” you taunt. He groans.

“Don’t be cute. I just came, I don’t have my wits well enough about me to go toe-to-toe with you,” he responds.

“Now if only you’d admit the same about the rest of the time,” you muse.

“Cheeky,” he bops your nose. You let silence fill the room for a moment.

“How long are you here for?” you question, looking up at him. A word from him could change the course of your life, it seems. No, you’re not in love with him. You wouldn’t let yourself do that. But god it feels right with him. It makes sense that you’d want to prolong your time with him for as long as possible. You’re not you when you’re with him. Well yes, you’re you, but a freer, less encumbered you. Like you’re on vacation, or on ecstasy…or something. He makes all the hurt go away. All of the hurt is outside, and inside is a protective fort of your own making. Your shelter.

“Five days. ‘Til Sunday,” he says, “can’t stand the heat longer than that.” You know Matty hates Los Angeles. You don’t blame him, really. It doesn’t seem anything like home to him.

But it still makes you sad. That he might spend bits of his free time in other places just because he likes the atmosphere better. That he would choose to be away from you even though you feel more like home to him than any city could.

“Okay,” you say. It didn’t really need an answer. You can’t see him every day anyways. You have a job and housemates that will wonder where you are, and a mother who’s always begging you to come by for dinner. You don’t tell them about him: your booty call, the rockstar. That would go over well. Anyways, you two are the only ones who get you. Everything goes bad once it leaves the safe-haven you’ve carefully built for yourselves. Rumors and questions and judgements. You’d rather keep it all here. Where it can be perfect.

“Will you tell me about Spain?” you query as you nestle yourself back into him, pushing away the future and snuggling back into the present.

“It was fucking unreal, darlin’. You would have loved it. All these breathtaking old churches and mosques. People dancing, playing guitar, and cheering in the streets. And the food, god. I know you too well to take you there, you would eat yourself silly and then tell me you’re too full to make love to me,” he chuckles.

“That seems like an appropriate behavior on vacation,” you push back.

“It is, but I want you all to myself,” he flips the two of you onto your sides and buries his head in your chest as he squeezes you impossibly closer. “Does that make me selfish?”

His voice sounds so small when it’s coming from under the covers.

“Maybe,” you say. He looks up at you like he might be hurt, “but I’m selfish when it comes to you, too.” You consider your next words, scared to be too candid. No, you think, If anyone would want me to be honest, it’s Matty.

“I get a little rush when you tell me that you haven’t been with anyone since you last saw me,” you say tentatively.

“Me too, sweetheart. It’s different with you.” You breathe a sigh of relief. You sit up and grab the glasses off the side table and go to the restroom. You relieve yourself quickly and fill the water cups, bringing them back to bed.

“Can I ask you a question?” you say. Matty raises his eyebrows in answer as he takes a sip of water. “What does it really feel like for guys when you have sex with girls? You guys always act like it feels so good when you first put it in. Is it really like that every time?”

Matty smiles softly at your earnestness. “I thought you were gonna ask me something serious,” he teases.

“I am being serious,” you insist.

He considers you, your expression, your posture. Deciding what you want from him. The truth, he thinks. All she ever wants is the truth. He takes you in his arms.

“You know when you get back from a holiday and you get to sleep in your bed on your pillow again for the first time in weeks?” you nod along. “It’s like that, but a thousand, no— a million times better. Especially if it’s with someone you know. It’s a relief. It’s safe. It feels like coming home.” You look at him, searching for any little bit of artifice. You find none, you should know by now that you won’t find any with him. Why can’t you trust that?

“You feel like coming home, darlin’.”

You believe him. You agree. So why does it still hurt? You put your head on his chest and close your eyes.

“So do you. Thanks for taking me home.”

“Anytime.”

You know he doesn’t quite mean it—any time he’s in town, yes. Anytime he’s not with a groupie in Japan. Anytime he’s not dealing with some work obligation or visiting his family in England. But as sleep begins to crowd your brain, you let yourself take his words at face value. Anytime. Anytime. He’ll come home anytime.

a/n: please tell me your thoughts etc. I hope this brightens your day! see you all at satvb this fall <3

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soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

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soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

Dudesssss , CAN I GET A VITE ONE WHAT WE THINK THE BEST GEORGE OUTFIT IS OR WAS

FOR THE FANFIC

Send pictures

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the 1975 george daniel the 1975 fanfic gatty

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soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 month ago

i felt that

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adhd problems

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soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

Reblog if reading someone else’s fanfiction has helped you get through a hard day

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soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

I love this outfit

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the 1975 matty healy george daniel adam hann ross macdonald ootd

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soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

This is so people get to know me a little

1. are you named after anyone?- I mean kinda but also no , there’s this one YouTuber who I was obsessed with when I was picking my name so I kinda used his first name

2. when was the last time you cried?- yesterday while watching the Finsbury live stream when Tim Healy came out and sang

3. do you have kids?- don’t have any right now but I’d love to one day

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?- all the fuckin time apparently

5. what sports do you play/have played?- I used to play football for my school , I used to be in a basketball team when I was in primary school but I don’t really do sports anymore

6. what's the first thing you notice about people?- there hair or smile , but also love to look at peoples shoes because shoes tell a lot about people

7. what's your eye color?- Blue - and they get a little brighter when I cry it scares people sometimes

8. scary movies or happy endings?- I don’t really have a preference I love all movies I’m a little movie buff ig

9. any special talents?- not specifically, maybe I pick up languages quick

10. where were you born?- Scotland

11. what are your hobbies?- skating , writing and listening to music , my favourite thing is to write , I’m not very good at it but I looooove it none the less

12. do you have any pets?- IVE got a little kitten named Count Olaf after Count Olaf from A series of unfortunate events

13. how tall are you?- I want to say 5’8 but I haven’t checked in a while

14. favorite subject?- omg I love history and English and any language class like omgl I hated school but when I had history English it languages fuck me uppppp

15. dream job?- either An author or a drummer in a band/ producer because George Daniel is my favourite human on this planet and I wanna be like him sooo much

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soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

Reblog if you’re over 20 and still read/write fan fiction.

I’m curious!

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soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

Concept

Should I keep writing it would y’all like to read it

The Boys (Matty , G , Rosso and Hann ) obvs but like slightly younger again teenagers (I can’t help but write them then idk why ), but it’s an AU where Matty is a trans-man and he’s trying to like make his way through life dealing with dysphoria and stuff , but even as a male G has like the biggest crush on him , so G and the lads help him become more comfortable in his self , and be more “masculine” even though he’s still very Matty like , and G still thinks he’s fit as always , and they slowly become an item and ends up mad protective of him when there at school and stuff

Haven’t got it all worked out yet , WOULD YALL READ IT

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the 1975 matty healy george daniel adam hann ross macdonald the 1975 fanfic

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