I’m Having A Very Weird Moment Rn , Drinking With Cis Men I Odd 😂😂

I’m having a very weird moment rn , drinking with cis men i odd 😂😂

yours - george daniel

(mdni) thank you anon for this request i had a SPECTACULAR time with this i hope i did it justice!!

warnings: 18+, semi-public unprotected sex, degradation, praise, jealousy, bratting, slight exhibitionism

It starts the way it always does: teasing. You don’t think you've taken your eyes off George once since he left your side, always ready with a smirk or sly wink when he catches your gaze. He’s talking to some indie darling or other, a pretty girl, really, but you can see her hand practically white-knuckling his bicep from across the room. She smiles too big and laughs too hard and you hate her, just a little bit. You can’t stop her — you have no reason to. George isn’t yours, not really. The two of you fuck. It’s not exclusive, there’s no strings, but you’re starting to realise you might have let him in one too many times, let him jam something in the door to your heart; you can’t lock it back up when he leaves anymore.

George locks eyes with you, expression pleading, and you suppress a victorious grin and delicately lift a shoulder in his direction. This is a game you play; he loves it when you get jealous, though neither of you would admit it. You want him all to yourself, want to march over there and prise that girl’s fingers off him, demand that he never so much as look at another girl. But that would be losing, which you’re not in the habit of, so you swallow your bitter fury and wash it down with a long sip of sweet wine, staring intensely at him over the rim of your glass. The girl goes on tiptoes to whisper something to him, and he stoops low to listen, two blonde heads bending together conspiratorially. Worse, he laughs in response, not a polite, awkward chuckle, but a genuine laugh. And he doesn’t look back at you afterwards.

You drain the rest of your wine and set the glass back on the table with a too-loud thud. Making your excuses to the director? producer? you’ve been chatting with, you stroll across the room, feigned casualness becoming harder to maintain with every step. The self-congratulatory smirk on his face as you approach is aggravating. He’s won and he knows it.

“Well, hello, love. I was wondering when I’d get to chat to you,” he says, hugging you from the side and letting his hand linger low on your waist for just a moment longer than he should. “Was starting to think you were avoiding me,” he adds, voice heavy with meaning, dripping with the unsaid.

“You know I can’t keep away from you for too long,” you grin, trailing a finger down his chest. It’s hot in here, his shirt unbuttoned as much as it’s acceptable, giving you the tiniest preview of the toned chest you know so well. The other girl hasn’t said a word, but she’s still lingering, her presence an unwelcome stain on the moment blossoming around the two of you, both curbing your tongues for her benefit. “Come on, I need a refill. We can catch up at the bar.” You phrase it like a suggestion, but he knows from the way your nails dig into his arm through his suit jacket that it’s a command. He leads you away and you shoot the girl a warning glare as you go for good measure.

“You look incredible,” he murmurs low in your ear, splaying a hand at your waist. The warmth of his palm radiates through you, some Pavlovian response to the simple feel of his fingers on your skin making you suppress a shudder.

“Thank you, darling. I guess you’re alright,” you tease. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Fine, you’re fucking gorgeous.” You wander over to the bar, and you let him order for the pair of you. He knows what you like, anyway. Probably better than any man on Earth.

You still keep your eyes averted, though, because you knows as soon as you meet his eyes, he’ll say, “You really didn’t want me talking to her, huh?”

You roll your eyes, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, please. You were begging me to get rid of her. Besides, tiny, pretty little thing like her? She couldn’t have handled you.” You shrug. The bartender sets two glasses of wine in front of you, one red, one white, and he takes a long sip before replying.

“Maybe you’re right. I’ll never know, now. You dragged me out of there before I could even get her name.” Smug satisfaction courses through you — you’ve got your claws firmly hooked into him, at least for tonight. You bite back the reply of ‘Good. Forget her. Forget them all,’ that springs to your lips. You’re cool, you remind yourself. You’re relaxed and chill, and you can do casual. You’re not that cliché girl who falls in love with her fuckbuddy.

He runs a finger along the edge of your jaw, dipping down to play with your necklace. “My eyes are up here, darling,” you tell him, his warm hands nauseatingly close to your traitorous, beating heart. It thuds harder, calling out to him. You pray he can’t tell that if he wanted to crack your ribs, reach in and pluck your heart from its place in your chest, that you would let him. You wouldn’t even resist.

“I know what I’m looking at,” he says. “God, you can see everything through this dress.” He raises his other hand, knuckles grazing your nipple accidentally-on-purpose, and tucks a flyaway piece of hair behind your ear.

You swallow a moan, leaning close enough to him that his breath ghosts on your face. He tilts your chin up with a thumb, parting his lips in expectation. “You’re a fucking cock-tease bitch,” you murmur with a scowl, startling him into a laugh; that endearing, high pitched cackle that shakes his shoulders near-violently. “Where the fuck do you get off, flirting with her just to piss me off? Touching me like that in public?”

One of his hands glides down to the thigh-high slit in your dress, thumbing over the skin there. Electricity races from the point his fingers touch your skin, so close to where you want them and yet miles and miles away. “You wanna play, baby? Let’s play,” you breathe, gripping his neck and crashing your lips together. It’s harsh, messy, an explosion of lips and teeth and tongues sliding together. You pull back, biting hard at his lower lip just to feel the flesh tear beneath your teeth. To leave your mark on him so that when he kisses the next girl, the sting reminds him of you.

“You’re fucking wild,” he hisses, tongue flicking over your bite mark.

You shrug. “Don’t piss me off next time.” You pat his chest and lean past him to pick up your wine glass, brushing deliberately against him. “Come find me when you’re ready to get out of here. And you’re not gonna like what I do if you try it on with one more bitch in front of my face,” you promise, turning your back to him and taking a few calculated steps away before throwing him a glance over your shoulder.

“Oh, and George? Can I tell you a secret? I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He freezes and you give a self-satisfied grin. Your victory is short-lived, though, his hand shooting out to catch you by the wrist as you try to walk away. He tugs you back towards him, and you obey easily. There was never any question that you would, really. “You’re not fucking going anywhere,” he hisses in your ear. “Come with me,” he orders, keeping your wrist in a vice-like grip as he drags you out of the room. He doesn’t look at you once the whole time he stalks down the corridor, the only sound your heels clicking against the tile as you struggle to keep pace with him.

George crowds you into a bathroom, attacking your lips the moment the door slams closed. You barely register the quiet click of the lock, letting him flip you so your back is against the door and pin your arms above your head. The second he frees your mouth you moan, trying to squirm away from his lips against your neck and collarbones, but he holds you fast. He dips his head into the valley between your breasts, licking at the skin there. “I love your fucking tits,” he says, mouthing wetly over the fabric that covers your nipple.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you sigh, voice full of false bravado that can’t cover how weak his touch makes you. “Get on with it, or people are going to notice we’re missing,”

“Greedy girl,” George chastises, but his eyes shine with want and his hard cock presses against you through his trousers. He steps back, and your whole body mourns the loss of his skin against yours, aching for him. “Bend over for me, baby,” he orders, a bolt of lust striking you. He knows acutely that all he has to do is tack on for me? and you’ll do whatever he asks. You lean over the sink, cold porcelain biting into your thighs. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and he lowers his head to kiss your bare back. It’s soft, intimate, in stark contrast to the rough way he’s handling you. It adds fuel to the sickening flare of hope deep in your chest that gutters and gutters but never goes out. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” He’s gentle, all of a sudden, gathering your dress in one fist and pulling it to the side. You gasp, your cunt fluttering in the cool air, and George grins.

“Come on, just fuck me,” you groan, rocking your bare cunt against him, the friction from the fabric of his clothes burning your clit deliciously. Your breath fogs up the mirror, the tap presses uncomfortably between your breasts and the corner of the counter cuts into your thighs. You hardly feel any of it, singularly focused on the man behind you. He removes his steadying hand from your hip, unbuckling his belt and shoving his trousers and boxers down just enough to release his cock. You contort your body, twisting to look over your shoulder at him, his cock red and dripping, begging for you. He still looks so put together, crisp and elegant in his suit, his reflection immaculate above you. You look even more wanton by comparison, hair tumbling over your shoulders and lipstick smeared across your chin. Desperate, hot desire drips out of you, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Beg for it,” he orders, and you’re too far gone to feel embarrassed. He slides a hand between your legs, just barely grazing at your clit. “Oh, God, George, please fuck me,” you moan, mind-wiping pleasure licking from where he toys gently with your swollen bud. “Shit, I need it. Nobody fucks me like you, baby. It’s you, it’s you, it’s always you,” you gasp, biting down on your lower lip before you let slip another incriminating admission.

He swipes a finger across your cunt, dipping teasingly into your entrance and pulling away before you can even react. He licks your arousal off his finger, both of you moaning softly. “Wish we had enough time for me to eat that sweet little pussy. Always so fucking wet for me. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get what you need,” he promises. You watch him reach into his pocket for a condom and shake your head wildly. “Oh, my dirty girl,” he murmurs, interest colouring his tone. My, your heart gets caught on. My, my, my. My girl. The words ricochet in your skull, bashing against your brain, denting it, leaving it bent out of shape with enough room for George to shove his way in and stay firmly glued there. “You want it raw?”

You nod desperately. “Want it fast. Hard. Dirty,” you plead. “Come on, baby. Ruin me.” At that, he can’t stay teasingly out of your reach any longer, guiding himself to your dripping entrance and thrusting into you in one fluid motion. You’re full so fast you’re practically choking on him, biting down hard to keep a scream at bay. You marvel every time at how well he fits inside you; your body feels made for him. Coherent thought escapes you, euphoria twining through all of your limbs at once.

He paws at your tit with the hand not holding your dress, pinching your nipple cruelly and sending a shock of pleasure-pain spiralling through you. His thrusts are quick but measured, exercising a control that you can’t even begin to fathom as you cling to the edge of the sink for dear life. Your thighs bash against the counter, but you can’t even begin to care. The only thing you know now is George. His hand digging into your waist, nails biting at your flesh, sharp pinpricks drawing a constellation of pleasure in your skin. You’ll be glad, tomorrow, to have the marks, the physical evidence of this encounter, proof of the ownership you feel over him.

“Is someone in there?” somebody calls from outside. You freeze. George only laughs, low and breathy in your ear, teasing, taunting.

“Well? Is someone here, baby?” he whispers, fucking into you again as he speaks.

You choke back a whimper, thrill stealing up your spine at the prospect of getting caught. Someone is right there. If they decide to open the door, there’s no hiding the dirty display you and George are putting on. Being seen like this, bent over, stuffed full of him and begging for more should be humiliating, but inexplicably you almost want to be caught. Maybe, if those girls out there could see how perfectly you fit, how well you fuck him, they’d leave him alone.

“Yeah, I’m in here,” you choke out, clapping a hand to your mouth to stifle a moan when George rolls your clit between his fingers, hot euphoria dripping down your spine. “I’ll— I’ll probably be a second!” you manage, his teasing fingers not giving you even a moment to breathe. Footsteps recede from behind the door and you breathe a sigh of relief, letting a string of suppressed whines and curses fall from your lips. Before you can chastise him, he perfectly hits that spot inside of you and you scream out, mind going blank from pleasure.

He groans. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, baby. My sweet girl, stretching so pretty around my cock.” You whimper, widening your legs to draw him in deeper. George lifts your head up by your hair, forcing you to make eye contact with yourself in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he commands. “Look at my pretty girl, falling apart for me.” Your soupy mind latches onto that my again, that little word choking you as effectively as if he had wrapped his hands around your throat. “Made to take my cock. Isn’t that right?”

“Tell me you’re mine,” you gasp, so, so full of him.

“What?” he manages between pants, hips never slowing from their brutal pace. Your skin slaps together, wet, sopping sounds ringing through the small room.

“Fuck, George, just say you’re mine. You don’t even have to mean it,” you coax, moaning low in your throat when his fingers brush your clit. “Come on, baby. Who else do you get it this good from? You know you own my fucking pussy. Let me pretend I get something back,”

He stills for a split second, as though your words cut through the fog of lust swirling between you. Another girl might not have even noticed, but you know every motion he makes inside and out. A broken beat in his perfect rhythm means everything to you. He leans down, slow and deliberate. “I’m yours,” George whispers, and you can’t hide your physical reaction, how good it feels to hear those words. Your blood turns to syrup, heart beating deadly fast to keep it pumping through your organs. “Does it feel good when I say that?” You nod wildly. “I know it does. I can feel what that does for you. I’m yours, baby. Yours, all yours. As long as you’re mine,” he croons, breath hot and sticking in your ears. He’s ruining you. You won’t ever be able to lay under another man without thinking of him, of this.

“I’m yours, George, you know that. Ugh, fuck, I’m getting close.” You slip a hand between your legs, both of you rolling circles on your clit. Tantalising pleasure builds and builds, churning in your gut, setting your body alight. George doesn’t let up, words failing the pair of you, grunts and moans dripping off his tongue in the place of gratifying words. Pleasure coils in your belly, winding tighter and tighter, dragging you ever closer to your high.

One final thrust and you fall apart, unspooling under his quick, clever fingers. Euphoria seeps into your bones, sticky heat keeping you glued to George. Your toes curl in your shoes, your legs shake, unsteady on your feet. He fucks you through your orgasm, stroking your flushed skin as his thrusts become more erratic. You cry out something that could be his name, rocking your hips, half retreating from overstimulation and half chasing his orgasm. You squeeze your cunt around him and he comes with a shout, his body loosening against you, his hand dropping from your hip to catch himself on the counter. He spills inside you as your name spills from his lips, smooth and sweet on his tongue. He pants, hips resting against yours, and catches your eye in the mirror with a smile.

“Fuck,” he mutters, grinning tiredly. He pulls out of you with a sickening squelch, cleaning up as best as he can in the bathroom sink and tucking himself away. You stand upright slowly, clutching your abused muscles.

“Fuck is right,” you reply, wincing as you feel his cum trickling out of you. “I think you’ve shattered my hipbones, darling.” You adjust your dress, crumpled where George had it clutched in his fist.

“You love it,” he fires back. You shrug, tipping your head in acknowledgement. “Sit up here for me, love,” he says, patting the counter. You balance on the edge and let George fuss over you for a moment, cleaning you up as gently as possible, plying you with soft kisses when you whimper and squirm away, oversensitive. This is always the worst part of your hookups — he takes such good care of you after, and for those few minutes, you feel what it would be like to be really his. You stand on shaky legs and try to breathe some life back into your body, try to reel your mutinous heart back in.

“Shit,” you hiss, registering your reflection in the mirror. You look utterly fucked, hair wild, dress ruined, makeup smeared, chest heaving. “I can’t go back out there like this,” you complain, swatting at him when he smirks. Of course, he still looks completely put together, composed as if he wasn’t crying out your name and cumming mere minutes ago.

It takes a minute, but you manage to wrangle your hair into submission and scrub the lipstick stains from your face. There isn’t a lot you can do for your dress, though. Your thighs burn every time you take a step, and your bare cunt is desperately sore. George swats you on the ass and follows you out of the bathroom. Matty catches your eye as you slink guiltily back into the party, shooting you a wicked smirk. You can’t help but love him, even if it does mean everyone in this room is going to know your business by night’s end.

“Hey,” George says, still keeping a supportive arm around your waist. “If you really want me, I’m yours,”

Your pulse speeds, your tender heart smashing against your ribs, bruising to a pulp. “Can you repeat that?” you manage.

“I’m yours, love. As long as you’re mine,” he promises, taking you by the waist and staring deep into your eyes. You’ve always wondered whether he could read your thoughts with that look, and now you have your answer. Stretching up on tiptoes, you sling your arms around his neck and catch him in a long, sweet kiss. You link a finger around his.

“Yours. All yours,”

179 notes View Post

soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

Sobbing 😭

Just read your reply to an ask about a fix of matty singing them to sleep and the suggestion/idea of fictional Matty singing fictional George or vice versa to sleep has me wanting to eat my hand and sob (in a good way) 😭

The best way to deal with your self imposed stress of not finishing a fic by your self dictated deadline is obviously to work on a different one 😂 I felt really bad that I wasn't able to fill that one prompt request for that anon looking for a matty x reader blurb where he sung the reader to sleep (I don't see myself ever writing x reader fic i'm sorry!! there are so many wonderful talented people who do though! that's just not my writing niche unfortunately) ... but like was totally down to write one of him singing fictional!George to sleep, and then I saw that YOU lovely anon had sent this in in response to that ask, so obviously I had to jump it to the top of my massive list of prompt fill requests that I really do promise I will finish in 2024 lol

So, alas, here it is, Fictional!Matty sining Fictional!George to sleep. I hope you like it, if not let me know and I will attempt a take two! Thank you so much for sending this in though, and for reading, and being so lovely and supportive! I hope you have a very happy new year and a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally

Singing to sleep

George was sick, and George never got sick. Matty was at his wits end, he was the one with the shit immune system. He was the one who didn’t take care of himself and allowed his body to get run down, seeming to constantly be coming down with a perpetual case of the sniffles. George did yoga. George remembered to eat, and drank water, and got the recommended eight hours of sleep each night. He wasn’t supposed to be congested and running a fever, a trail of used tissues laid out like bread crumbs as if he would lose his way back to the bedroom without them.

George wasn’t supposed to be arguing with Matty that he wasn’t sick when he clearly was. Shaking his head, his voice rough and nasally, insisting that he was fine even as he had to halt his argument every few minutes to cough. George was not supposed to be sick, and with a sinking realization, Matty was learning that George was an even worse patient than he was.

“Please,” Matty begged, he knew he looked ridiculous wearing the frilly apron his Mum had gotten him as a joke when they had bought the new house and Matty had shown her the high end kitchen as if he was going to actually use it. The joke was on her, he was wearing the apron and currently trying to use the kitchen. “Please just go lay back down.”

“I’m fine,” George rasped again before breaking off into another coughing fit, his arms wrapped around himself as he shivered. Matty glanced at the clock on the stove, it was still too soon for him to take another dose of paracetamol.

“You are not fine!” Matty snapped, turning away from the stove and the soup that he hoped was simmering and not boiling, he wasn’t entirely sure of the difference. He waved his wooden spoon at George for dramatic effect. “You need to go lay down and get some fucking rest so you can get better!”

George opened his mouth and Matty waved the spoon more aggressively, flicking his wrist at George. “No, no arguments, upstairs, now please, let’s go.” Matty said, nudging George’s shoulder so that he could guide him towards the staircase.

George sighed, breaking off into another coughing fit, his shoulders shaking before doing as Matty said. He padded barefoot towards the stairs, Matty hot on his heels to make sure he actually got into bed instead of trying to snag his work laptop out of the office. The soup would be okay for a few minutes without him, Matty thought as they climbed the stairs. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to be watching for anyway, or what he was even supposed to do if it did do something.

Realizing he was still holding the spoon, Matty sheepishly sat it down on the dresser, brushing past George to fluff up his pillows and blankets.

“Get in the bed,” he said, holding his arms out as if he was a briefcase girl on a game show.

“You trying to take advantage of me?” George rasped, batting his eyelashes teasingly, the effect was lost though by the glassy sheen of his eyes and his dry red nose.

“Always,” Matty deadpanned and George sighed, climbing back into bed and allowing Matty to rearrange the blankets around him while he pouted like a child.

“Now get some rest,” Matty said, leaning down one last time to press a kiss to George’s forehead, frowning when he realized just how hot it was. He turned away, planning on heading into the bathroom to get George a damp wash rag to try and cool him down some before returning to his soup when George caught his wrist.

“Wait,” said George looking up at Matty, looking extra pathetic with his pale skin, red nose and shiny eyes.

“I’ll be right back,” Matty assured him, his heart squeezing. “I’m just going to get you a cold rag.”

“I’m fine,” George said again, his voice convincing absolutely no one. “But will you,” George flushed, and Matty wasn’t sure if it was from fever or embarrassment. George swallowed hard, his sore throat bobbing painfully. “Will you sing to me?”

Matty blinked, in confusion, not expecting the request. “What?” he asked dumbly and George’s blush deepened, embarrassment it is then, Matty thought fondly, his heart flipping at the request.

“Will you sing me something?” George asked again, his eyes wide and earnest. “Please.”

Matty exhaled slowly, he wanted to get George a cold wash rag for his forehead, and he needed to go check on his soup. But who was he to refuse George a song when he was poorly.

“Yeah,” said Matty softly, feeling like his insides had turned to goo with just how much he loved George. “Yeah, I can sing you something.”

His Gibson Hummingbird was leaning against a decorative chair where he had left it two days prior, and he winced, knowing he should have put it away properly but thankful for his laziness as he scooped it up, feeling silly as he quickly tuned it and sat down on the edge of the bed.

He played the opening chord and George smiled, instantly recognizing the song.

Tell me what you thought about

When you were gone and so alone

The worst is over

You can have the best of me

We got older but we're still young

We never grew out of this feeling that we won't give up

George was asleep, snoring softly, before Matty even finished the song.

16 notes View Post

soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

Bro I’ve found a way to incorporate Menswear lyrics into my next chapter and I’m so fuckin buzzzzzzin

Tags

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

5 notes View Post

soil-just-needs-water-to-be

2 years ago

I know I already posted this but I’ve just realised this it’s not very common thing but why are they ALL lefties 😂

This is so ADHD Matty Coded and I love it , everyone else just tryna work and Matty like 🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻 if this is how school was for him I’d have loved to be in his class 😂😂

Tags

matty healy george daniel adam hann ross mcdonald

81 notes View Post

soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

cap!matty, you are so special to me.

321 notes View Post

soil-just-needs-water-to-be

2 years ago

Like I know I’m only 22 and there’s no chance of me getting a kid anytime soon, but I just want a kid of my own so I can get them into the 1975 and we can vibe together and stuff and I could take em to gigs and concerts and just arghhh

Tags

matty healy george daniel adam hann ross macdonald

9 notes View Post

soil-just-needs-water-to-be

1 year ago

WOW 😨😱🫠

Your Good Boy

Matty x Reader

Warning: Smut (Skirt kink? Subby Matty, Oral sex (male receiving) overstimulation, unprotected sex, praise kink) smoking weed

WC: 3.2K

Summary: If Matty wants to be your good boy, he has to listen to your rules.

A/n: Well, that was fun

Masterlist

Matty disappears up the stairs and you can hear him fumbling around with something before he is hopping down the stairs and plopping down on the couch with a huff. The flickering lights cast shadows across his rumpled skirt, accentuating the softness of the fabric against his slender frame.

Your eyes trace the gentle curve of your boyfriend’s waist, the way the material falls delicately over his thighs, and a funny feeling bubbles up in your stomach at the sight. It's an inexplicable sensation, one that catches you off guard. He looks so fucking cute and soft, a stark contrast to the exhaustion etched into the dark circles under his eyes.

You raise a brow in question at him, only to widen them when he holds a joint in front of you. “Wanna smoke?” Matty asks, tapping your bare thigh with his other hand.

His voice is as soft as the rest of him.

“Sure, but I’m lighting it. You never burn it evenly,” you playfully tease, unable to resist poking fun at Matty. It's just something that always seems to happen—the joint or blunt ends up burning crooked and splitting apart. The last time he lit it, we barely got through two rotations before our fingertips were singed.

“Not true!” Matty protests, his lips pouting. God, he looks so cute when he pouts, and you can't help but lean over to place a gentle kiss on his lips, tasting the sweetness of his breath.

Leaning back into the couch cushions, you hold out your hand for his lighter. “Yes, true. Now hand it over, baby,” you confidently assert, emphasizing your point with a term of endearment.

Matty grins mischievously, teasingly holding the joint just out of your reach. "Well, if I remember correctly, someone did drop it in the toilet that one time," he playfully reminds you, his eyes sparkling with laughter.

You roll your eyes, feigning offense. "Hey now, I was drunk! I didn’t mean to drop it. You’re lucky I didn’t let it dry and give it to you to smoke.” you retort, reaching a hand towards him in an attempt to snatch the joint away. Your fingers brush against his as you both engage in a playful tug-of-war.

Laughing, Matty relents and hands you the lighter. "That just would’ve been cruel, darling.”

You smirk and strike the lighter against its rough surface, igniting the flame before carefully bringing it closer to the tip of the joint. As the paper catches fire, Matty's eyes remain fixed on your face, an intense gaze filled with affection and desire.

With a skillful flick of your wrist, you ensure an even burn along the length of the joint, savoring the earthy taste on your tongue. Passing it to Matty, you watch as he takes a slow inhale, his pink pouty lips wrapping around the end with ease. The smoke curls around him like a delicate dance, casting a hazy veil over his face.

He exhales slowly and leans back into the cushions, a contented smile gracing his lips. "See? Perfect burn," you say triumphantly, leaning over to steal another kiss before settling down beside him.

Matty smirks, resting the joint back between his thumb and forefinger as he rests his elbow on the armrest. “And to think I was gonna miss you.” He shakes his head, waving his free hand dismissively “Gonna have to find groupie on tour to replace you. Someone who isn’t an ass.”

You raise an eyebrow at his words, but can't help the twinge of jealousy that flits through your chest. "Oh really?” you counter with a teasing tone, lightly punching his arm.

A soft chuckle rolls from Matty's throat, his gaze following the slight tilt of your head. His eyes, wearing a veil of exhaustion, meet yours, and the subtle tremble in his hand becomes evident as he takes another drag from the joint.

"I don't think you'll find anyone quite like me," You whisper, your fingers reaching out, playfully tracing circles over the fabric of his lengthy floral skirt that bunches up around his knee. “Besides, only I know how to make you feel good.” You let your eyes linger on his plush lips, anticipation causes his eyes to flutter shut.

Matty's eyes widen, his eyebrows arching upward as his lips part in disbelief when you dodge his lips and snatch the joint from his fingertips. “That’s just mean.” He whines, his lower lip jutting out in a pout.

You narrow your eyes, nodding slowly as you accept Matty's point. Taking a long drag before exhaling the smoke from your nose. Matty pivots on the couch to face you, leaning back gradually until the armrest supports him. His floral skirt rides up a little when he shifts, a flash of pale skin makes your eyes linger longer than they should. Your teeth find your lower lip as imagination takes over—the fabric of his skirt brushing against your core.

“I can be mean,” Your words feather out in a whisper barely audible enough to reach him. “I can also be very, very good to you.” The ember flares as you draw in another long taste of smoke, before passing the joint back to him.

“But only if you’re a good boy.” A smirk plays on your lips as you finish your sentence, carefully watching his reaction. A high-pitched moan—sorry—whine falls from his lips as he inhales the smoke, his body shuddering at the sound of your words.

Matty’s eyelids flutter closed as a soft sigh escapes his lips. A slow, steady exhale through his nostrils, the smoke dissipating into thin air. His shoulders slump slightly as you trace your fingers down his arm, each touch sending shivers across his skin. “‘M always your good boy”

You pinch the joint between your fingers and flick it onto the coffee table where it lands with a quiet thunk. Both of you are feeling the effects of the weed in your bodies, making everything feel a little bit more intense, a little bit more sensual.

You inch your way towards Matty, straddling him as your fingertips slowly trail a path up his chest. Unable to resist, you thread your hands into his hair. “Yeah? Gonna be my good boy tonight?”

His breath catches as you swiftly pull his shirt off, his chain makes a noise as it softly hits his collarbones. You lean down to kiss him, your lips meeting his softly at first before deepening the kiss. His fingers lace through your hair, pulling you closer, pressing your lips together in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

Your tongues dance against each other, tasting sweetness and smoke and the lingering flavor of dinner from earlier. The couch creaks underneath you as you grind your hips against him, feeling the hard outline of his cock through the soft fabric of his skirt.

“My boy looks so pretty in his skirt, don’t you?” You praise him, nipping lightly at his bottom lip before running your tongue along the seam of his lips. His hips jut up instinctively, seeking more friction against the heat of your covered cunt.

"Mmm... baby, please..." Matty moans in response, tightening his grip on your hips. Smiling, you press your forehead against his, rolling your body against him in slow, exquisite circles. “Need you to lay down for me, baby.” You massaged his scalp with your fingertips, gently coaxing his head back until his gaze focused on yours.

Matty’s eyes held a mix of lust and tenderness as he looked at you, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. His spit-soaked lips parted, words coming out in a lazy drawl, “O-okay.”

You raise your hips, allowing him to shift down the couch. He rests his head on the armrest as you position yourself between his legs. His breath catches in his throat as your cold fingers trace a path up his thighs and under his skirt. Gripping the band of his boxers, you pull them down his legs and out of your way. Matty’s eyes shut tight as he struggles to keep himself well-behaved, a pained expression on his face when you barely graze his cock.

A laugh bubbles up within you, straining at your lips at his wide-eyed surprise mirrored in his open mouth and raised eyebrows when you take him in your hand. His shock quickly turns into euphoria—His head instinctively arches backwards as a low groan escapes from deep within him as your hand speeds up. Each stroke applied by your hand sends another drop of precum dripping down your hand. The ragged rhythm of his breath interrupts any attempt at words, reducing him to a series of helpless moans.

You stop stroking him to lift his skirt up, splaying it up across his chest so you can see his cock. It looks painful already and you pout at the sight. Matty's desperation was palpable— from his red leaking tip, the thick vein pulsating on the underside, and his balls tight and heavy like he could just cum at any second. It’s honestly pathetic. You’ve only touched him for a couple of seconds, making you almost wanna laugh.

Matty squirms a little, releasing a soft whimper of protest as your hand pauses its playful teasing. You offer nothing but an affectionate smile in return, "Such a pretty cock.” You whisper softly, brushing your thumb across the tip slowly.

Matty immediately stills—A chuckle escapes your lips at his eagerness, his cock twitching in anticipation of your next touch. You pause, giving it a gentle squeeze before your hand moves back down it and you start to stroke his cock again.

"Perfect... just perfect," you murmur, your words landing with each soft caress of your hand. “It's my cock, isn’t it? Completely mine. Only I’m allowed to touch it.”

His breathing becomes heavy, his hips thrusting up with each of your touches. “A groupie wouldn’t touch you how I can touch you,” you whisper, your eyes sparkling with a hint of wickedness. You keep up the teasing, your hand now dripping with his precum.

Before Matty could utter a single word, you wrap your lips around the tip, giving him a harsh suck before dipping your tongue into his slit.

“F-Fuck, fuck. More. More, please, please, please.” Matty gasps, gripping the sides of the couch as your mouth lavishes his cock. You hum against him, licking his crown teasingly as your hand massages his balls. You take more of his cock into your mouth, loving the salty taste mixed with the sweetness as you work him deeper.

You continue to watch him with careful eyes, taking in the hitch of his breath, his twitching fingers, and the low moans escaping between his clenched teeth.

How did you manage to have such a breathtaking man as your boyfriend? I mean, just look at him—he is the epitome of perfection. From the way his dark, curly hair falls across his forehead, his milk chocolate eyes, and god those pretty, pretty pink lips. It's as if he was crafted by some divine being solely for your enjoyment.

As you remove your mouth from him, his moans vibrate through your skull. You use your tongue to lick the side of his cock, letting your teeth graze against his sensitive skin. His hips jerk in reaction, begging for more friction. He can't help but jerk his hips in response, craving more friction. You chuckle softly and go back down on him, this time taking him all the way to the base of his cock. The coarse hairs tickle your nose as you swallow around him.

Matty's slender fingers clench and release in the silky fabric of his skirt, a low growl building in his throat as he struggles against your relentless teasing. You firmly grip his hips, unable to resist the urge to leave marks with your nails on the soft skin beneath. The material bunches and twists around you both as Matty writhes and arches under your skilled touch, each pleasured moan that escapes from his pretty pink lips driving you to push him further into ecstasy.

His scent is intoxicating, the mix of sweat and weed and heat wafts towards you making it harder to concentrate on anything else but the pure pleasure coursing through him. Your free hand cups his heavy balls, squeezing them gently as you change pace in your mouth, suckling on him deeply before drawing back with a pop sound.

"Look at you," you whisper against him, kissing his tip. "So pretty." You pull his skirt back down to cover him.

“‘M’being good. Why’d you stop? Please, don’t stop. Ple—“

You cut him off by settling your legs on either side of his hips. You can feel his spit-soaked cock press up against your cloth covered clit through the fabric of his skirt and you let out a throaty moan. “I’m not stopping. But you need to get me off first,” you whisper, gripping his throat as you move against him. “Before you can cum.”

“But—“

“Thought you wanted to be my good boy?” Matty gasps as you tighten your grip and his breath hitches, his eyes widening slightly. You can see the struggle within them—he wants to please you, but his need to cum is stronger. With a soft whimper, he nods his understanding.

The rhythm of his hips matched the pulse of yours, grinding against your pussy as he tries pushing himself deeper against the thin barrier of fabric. His cock throbs with every movement, leaking, even more, precum, if that is even possible at this point. Each rock of your hips sent waves of pleasure that seized your breath and left you gasping and panting for more. Matty’s breaths grew ragged, pleas for release hitching on every exhale.

"So pretty," you mutter, placing soft kisses along his collarbone. "I like that my baby is so responsive." A low moan escapes from Matty as he tries to help you ride him, failing miserably since you're hips are pinning him on the couch. His hips jerk forward involuntarily but it's not enough for satisfaction as you sit up straight again.

"Fuck." Matty grunts out loudly and his expression only crumbles more as he allows his gaze to fall onto. He shakes his head at you, "Please!” A raw plea that hangs heavily in the air.

"Such a good boy," you whisper, leaning down to lick along his jawline until you reach his lips once more. This time, Matty's lips part eagerly for you—inviting you in. His tongue twists around yours in a slow dance that sends shivers down your spine.

Each rock against your clit brings you closer to the edge, and just when you’re about bring yourself to the brink of an orgasm, Matty pulls away with a loud gasp. He’s looking at you with tears in his eyes, “M’sorry, M’sorry, M’sorry. Gonna cum, fuck! M’cumming.”

His hands halt your hips, and you can feel a puddle of warmth soak through his skirt and in your underwear, mixing with your wetness.

You know Matty is sensitive, but you don’t care. He knew he wasn’t allowed to cum unless you came first. Tears continued to well up in his eyes, blurring his vision and portraying a striking image of misery. But that doesn’t stop your hips from roughly grind against his cock chasing your own orgasm.

That's when he began to plead, his voice a pitiful tremor underlined with desperation, “Please, please, please, M’sorry, I tried. I couldn’t hold it. M’sorry.”

You never let up. Your fingers tightened in his hair, jerking his head back against the couch with a force that made him wince. "Don’t care.” you say, your voice harsh and demanding.

"You were supposed to make me cum first." You tighten your grip on his hair, pulling him back up to meet your hot gaze. The sight of tears pooling in his eyes stirred an uncomfortable twinge in your chest, a pang of guilt you quickly suppressed.

If Matty wants to be your good boy, he has to listen to your rules.

Your fingers trace the curve of his cheek, brushing away the tears with your thumb as you lean in to kiss him again. His lips are soft under yours, hungry and eager. You don't pull away this time, letting your tongue dance against his lips, tasting the sweetness mixed with the lingering taste of smoke and the salty flavor of his tears.

You pull back, only to circle your hips again before lifting your hips up fully. You reach down between your bodies and tug at his skirt, pulling it up higher to expose him once more. Matty's cock is still hard, his cum pooled on his pelvis all over his dark, short coarse hair.

Gripping his soaping cock with one hand and pull your thong to the side, you sink down in one swift motion. A loud gasp escapes his lips as you take him in deep, “Too much! Too much!” Matty screams, arching his back up off the couch.

“You can take it.” Your voice drops to a husky whisper that sends shivers down Matty's spine. Before slamming your hips down against his. Matty's eyes rolling back in pleasure mixed with pain. His fingers dug into the couch cushions, leaving deep impressions of his nails in the soft fabric. You rolled your hips, feeling his cock stretch you open and fill you completely. Each thrust echoed with a rough slap of skin meeting skin, punctuated by your gasping sighs that filled the room.

“C-can’t, it’s too much. Shit! M’gonna cum again. No m-more.” Matty's eyes widen, and his expression takes on a sort of desperation as he feels a second orgasm coming. His words were nearly incomprehensible, but you understood what he was saying.

"You can handle it, my sweet boy," you murmured, before quickly sinking back down on him. Matty's body shakes as he feels your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock. He groans deeply, his eyes shut tight.

You smirk, taking him deeper and deeper with each thrust. You can see the veins in his neck bulging out, and you lean down to suck on one, biting it softly to make a small mark on his skin. "My pretty boy," you whisper before moving up to kiss him again, stealing his breath away.

His fingers desperately find your clit, wanting you to cum before he does. You know there’s no way in hell Matty can handle a third orgasm, but his actions still drive you closer and closer to your own. He rubs your clit in quick circles as his thrusts become quicker and quicker, and you know you’re not too far away.

You gasp into his mouth as the pleasure finally takes over. And you can feel his body tighten and clench underneath you as he paints his cum inside you. You ride the orgasm together, tremors rack both your bodies, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, clinging to each other for dear life. Looking up from his neck, streams of hot tears fall from his eyes.

Smiling, you cup his face in your hands and kiss him softly. “I told you, you were my good boy.” You whisper. His eyes maintain their glazed-over look, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

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soil-just-needs-water-to-be

2 years ago

Chapter 9

Word count :4221

Warnings : school 😂🙄 , slight panic attacks , mention of illness

Matty's POV

German is alright actually the class is full and sitting with everyone is still making me feel tetchy and on edge but at least Jamie is here with me so I'm a little calmer. He's not really talking to me as he's paying attention for being the complete opposite of nerd and teachers pet in this class he excels and actually listens so I let him do his thing. I feel a like I might be okay if I just try to ignore the fact that the classroom is packed. I think that's what's been setting me off recently the fact that people can actually see me losing my mind and it was getting harder to control. I hate that people can see what's actually going on. The sincerity of situations sometimes scares me. Once upon a time I used to be so out there that people watching me doing anything never used to be an issue but the last six months things have changed and I don't really understand why. The room starts to get a little louder as people start to get on with the task. This causes my brain to start spinning again but I'm going to deal with it looking at the questions my eyes lose focus a little I shake my head and rubs my eyes and try to get back to it but my head ends up in my heads about 3 questions in Jamie spots this and gives me a little nudge on the shoulder "dude are you good?."

I look at him and squint to see him right the lights are brighter than I originally felt they were but I shrug him off "Yeh , yeh I'm alright it's just a little loud in here"

"Are you sure that's all, do you need to go back to Miss Conner's?"

I scoff , I wasn't trying to convey that I didn't appreciate the concern but I hate that people are seeing me as fragile "Nah Jay it's okay it's just loud don't worry about it". I stick my hand up and ask Mr Reeves if I can put my headphones in which he reluctantly agrees to with this a little relief washes over me and I put them in and pick and calming playlist. Bach not my usual listening material but I'm sure It'll keep me calm, I start making my way back through the questions answering them with ease. I get to the last question it's the essay portion of the exercise, I've got to write about my family in fluent German again that's easy, My dads been teaching me German since I was 4. I've recently been teaching Lou.

In the moment a message comes through from my mum "How are you doing today love?" , I contemplated not answering until lunch but she'll just worry

"I'm doing alright Ma , I'm in class right now actually , I didn't go into Maths I just did it in Miss Conner's office that was pretty good actually but I'm in class doing okay x"

I decide to message George again since my phone is out and I'm slightly bored now. I snap a picture not to dissimilar from before my hands are running through my hair and I'm smiling "Class is going okay, I nearly had a minute but I managed to take hold of it x". He's slowly becoming a lifeline at this point so long as he knows I'm okay and I'm doing okay for him then I'm happy.

I place my phone back on the table and finish my essay, I'm getting a little restless it's just boredom though so I ask Mr Reeves if I can quickly go to the bathroom. He lets me go under the pretence that I be sure to show him my progress on my work when I get back which is fine because it's basically done. I wander around the school a few times just making notes of how quiet the hallway is right now since everyone is in class. This is peaceful and I really enjoy the quiet. I think about going for a smoke as I haven't really had much smokes today. I took my way outside and quickly light up letting the nicotine flew through my body and I relax even more as bird fly around me and the only sound I hear is the occasional car driving in and out of the car park. I quickly make it through my cig and make my way back to class , sliding back into my seat but Mr Reeves spots me "Matthew you've been gone for fifteen minutes, where have you been ?".

"I just needed a minute to compose myself sorry Sir, I should have said" . I sit back down at my desk and finish up what I was writing. I'm sure all my teacher have been made aware of my hiccup yesterday "Right once you've finished that I'd like to see it and I would like to have a chat outside if you may". I finish up not long after and make my way over to his desk "i finished it , it's not my best but it's done" . This is always the awkward stage we're they look over you work and you just stand there like a spare part before you get there verdict. "Very well , can I see you outside please , don't worry your in no trouble". I sigh a sigh of relief and follow him outside . Once we're outside of the room I rest against the wall and scuff my shoes against the ground as he talks.

"Okay, I understand your having a bit of a rough time right now but rather than making up excuses to leave next time all you have to do is tell me that you need some time alone and I'll let you out to have a silent moment"

I look at him now still scuffing shoes against the carpet it's a terrible noise that goes right through me but it's just a habit at this point "again I'm sorry sir, I just didn't know how or what to say, I'll be sure to let you know next-time"

"Righty-o , next all I need to ask , for the actual exam do you think you might need to be in a different room to do it or would you like to be in with everyone else , I don't know if I'm the first to be asking but I know all your other teachers have been emailed and asked to ask you."

"I haven't really thought about it really , I should be okay with it. I'll try to sort my self out before the exams I promise but If I change my mind I'll be sure to let you know ahead of time." I hate that everyone is treating me like I could break at any minute but I know I also need to be honest it'll help in the long run I guess.

"Okay that's grand thank you very much back in you go you've got ten minutes till we're done if you don't want to sit in then it's okay to just go to the canteen but it's your choice"

"I think I'll be fine sir , it's ten minutes honestly it's all good" . We go back inside and when I get back to my chair Jamie is obviously itching to ask what that was about

"Sir was just asking if I needed any extra help with the exams and whatnot" . I see I have a message from my Mum and George but try to continue with my conversation with Jamie but I know I just want to check them.

"Hey that's cool , what did you say?"

"I said not for right now but if it changes I'll let someone know". I pick up my phone seconds after saying this. I open George's message first. It's a snap of him outside with his friends again or who I'd assume to be his friends here all huddled in a small corner and one boy has his arm around a girl and kissing the side of her head and there's another blonde boy there he's quite tall but not as tall as George and his eyes are bright blue none of them are wearing what I'd say was a uniform more just like school colours. It's captioned "I'm so proud you managed the class , you may have had a small hiccup but you worked it out and that's great , the guys say hi by the way"

That's makes me smile I guess he's spoken about me to them which leaves a small twinkle inside me and my checks redden at the fact that he's says he's proud of me. I snap a picture with my fingers crossed again. "I bet you were just hoping for me ay; my lucky charm , tell em I said hi back."

Like clock work literally the bell chimes bang on one o'clock and everyone starts piling out of the room and make a mad rush to the door. I wait till everyone is out then make my way out with Jamie's hand resting on the small of my back , it's a protective "older brother" thing. He's a few months older than me it's been a thing he's done since year 7 so I'm used to it at this point it makes me feel safer I suppose. The minute I walk into the canteen the noise is the first thing that overwhelms me stopping me in my tracks. Jamie's pauses with me "you okay mate?"

I glare at him for a second but then decide there's no point in trying to even lie right now "yeh, um , actually, I'll just go wait outside if you wanna go find Ross and get what you guys want I'll meet you out back" he rubs my back before he wanders off looking back at me "okay bro we won't be to long okay?" Then makes his way into the crowd of kids waiting for there lunch. I walk in the other direction trying to get to the back doors as quick as humanly possible. I hate noise I don't know where that has come from but recently any type of loud noise , grating sounds or repetitiveness has just really made me skittish and I don't really understand why but I have every feeling I'll figure it out. Once I'm outside and hidden away at the bottom of the field I pull my phone out along with a zoot and pull up George's name and having a little thought to myself and quickly change his name in my phone to "My lucky charm" cheesy and a little weird maybe but it makes me smile and I open up his latest message.

"I'll be anything you need me to be just so long as you feel good, I hope your eating lunch or at least something, but I am super proud you managed a class I know you said earlier you might struggle going to your last class but do you think it might be worth trying?"

This man really knows how to get me in my feels I take a picture of my zoot and my shoes yanno like all the stoners do on there private stories and reply after really thinking "I'll eat my other cereal bar, I might ask Jamie or Ross to get me something from the canteen before we go back to class , my last class is physics tho so I may only be there five minutes but I'll try just for you". That just for you might push some boundaries or make him feel a little weird but it's not my intention

I get a reply instantly he's still in his small corner I feel like it's pretty much like us all huddled in the corner of the field we're we smoke all schools have there places I suppose but the blonde kid from before is sat in his lap my heart sinks but I don't really know why . I don't know a lot these days if im honest. "We'll you know we're I am if you need to talk about it right ?, and maybe rather than sending you the song would you like to call again tonight so I can show you it "in person", I''m going to Adam's for a little while with the guys but I'll let you know when I'm home"

I just reply through normal messages this time taking pictures sometimes just is futile to me when I can convey how I feel just through words "I'll be sure to let you know the minute I need anything don't worry, AND YEH SHRE THAT WOULD BE AMAZING". As I send that away Ross and Jamie come running over to me and plonk themselves down on the grass in front of me "hey bro", Ross is always just simple and sweet always to the point

"Alright Rosso?" I hand them my lighter when they pull out there joints and start hastily looking around for one they never seem to have

"Cheers mate" Jamie takes it and lights up before passing it to Ross who also lights up

"Yeh I'm alright , how are you doing Jay said you managed German".

"Yeh dude it's was fine , but it's just a class I don't know why everyone is so mega impressed I've been doing school for like 12 years now, it's a normal thing". Again here comes the self depreciation and loathing it's never really good to dwell on my achievements if that's what you'd call them

"Bro I don't know if you've noticed the only class you've done properly in two weeks has been English you haven't attended a full class except English in two weeks , so really I think it is an achievement". Ross always knows how to put things into perspective. "That is true mate you've either skipped or not been in class the whole lesson for days bro" . Jamie not to much

"We'll alright , it's just some classes mess with my head and make me crazy that's all. It's nothing to write to the newspapers about", I rub my temples waiting for my headache that started as I walked into the canteen to dissipate because I really don't feel like dealing with this right now it's been a good day I don't want a headache to ruin it "Ross mate have you got anymore pain killers ?". The suns in my eyes I swear it never used to be this bright but Jesus I'm squinting again. "Are you sure that's a good idea having been smoking".Always the levelheaded is Ross

"Where are your glasses mate you brung em with you yesterday but I didn't see you wearing them and your not wearing them now, they might be contributing to your headaches". I know he's probably right but they just make everything even brighter and stark

"I know I probably should be wearing them but there just really irritating my eyes, but honestly I'll be fine the weed and the painkillers will help I'm sure they will even if it's just one, I just need it to go away before next class or there's not a single chance in me sitting in there". I try to block my eyes from the sun so it's not so bright and look at Ross pleading with him.

"Alright fine but one because I don't know how well they mix I don't want you throwing up on us again okay?". He hands me the pill and throws over his water i thanks him and neck it hopefully it's fast-acting

"Also here have this". Jamie throws me over a bag of crisps I also thank him and starts digging into them. It might be the fact I'm highly delusional right now or I just haven't eaten much in hot minute but these are amazing.

"So how you feeling like honestly feeling right now mate?" Jamie pipes up after a good solid five minutes of silence as we all eat and drag out joints out as long as possible

"I don't know how ready I am for physics if I'm honest but I spoke to George and I said I'd try". I finish with my crisps and just shove the empty packet into my blazer pocket and will dispose of later when we go back inside.

"George ??". Shit I forgot they don't know about George, I haven't actually said his name until now.

"Oh uh yeh George , he's the guy I was telling Ross about I met him online the other day and he's been tryna keep me right and out of my head". They look at me now a bit bemused "what?"

"You Matthew Timothy Healy are you trying to tell us that your actually letting someone help you". Ross chimes in with a mouthful of crisps himself.

"He's nice, but hey I let you guys help I'm just used to you guys ain't I , he's new and he doesn't fully get me yet".

"Alright alright , settle down , so you told him you'd try what does that mean exactly?"

"That I'll go but if I don't want to be in there I'll ask if I can go sit with Miss Conner's again don't worry I won't leave I'll still walk you guys home today" . I cross my heart for added affect and dramatisation.

"Alright then but you know you don't have to right?". Ross is looking at me all serious now "like don't force yourself to stay in the lesson"

"I'll be fine, I know what I'm doing" I give them both a hopeful smile and a big thumbs up mainly to convince myself more than them but it's alright. Just then the bell goes off as we all run back down to the top end off the field and inside so we don't get locked out. This door always gets locked on during class so people don't leave but they forget there are other doors. We say our goodbyes and I make my way to physics my heart evidently throwing itself out of my chest before I even enter the room but I push through. I sit down and my table and shove my rucksack under it and wait for everyone to arrive. The volume starts to rise almost instantly as everyone is hyped after lunch and ready to start the lesson. This already is not feeling like a win. I send George the fingers crossed emoji just a quick little reminder to know I'm thinking about him and letting him know that I know he's there if I need him. Mrs Alaric makes her way in and ask us all to settle down as we have an experiment to take part in today and that she needs us all to listen, I feel my chest start to heave slightly as experiments always make everyone loud and bunsin burner smell really sets my teeth on edge but I let her explain before I decide what I'm doing.

She's spends at least half of the lesson describing the experiment and we all note down the information and how we think it will end there are two boys across the other-side of the room messing around and the constant shouting is really doing my head in but alas Mrs Alaric separates them and then she asks us to pair up and start the experiment and that's when it all goes to shit for lack of a better word really. Everyone gets up there chairs scraping against the vinyl flooring which goes right through me and then everyone starts chatting and working around me. I try to start collecting all the equipment but there's people everywhere and there loud and I keep getting knocked into people. So I sit down and cover my ears with my hands and close my eyes hoping to drown everything out. Mrs Alaric comes over to me and taps me on the shoulder startling me

"Are you okay Matthew would you like a minute outside". I take a minute to look at her she does look mildly concerned I wish this feeling of dread and uncertainty would just fuck off honestly man.

"Can I just go see Miss Conner's"

"Let me page her and let her know once I know she knows your coming I'll let you go okay ?" Alright she taps me on the shoulder again and turns to the class to give them there next instruction standing next to me the whole time then pages for Miss Conner's to come get me

I close my eyes again and just rest my head on the desk, the desk is cold and it's kinda nice you know after a few minutes there's knock at the door looking up I see that's it's Miss Conner's and I have never packed my bag and left a room as quick as I did then.

"Alright Matty?" We start the trek back to her office. My second home at this rate. My head is still rattling the pain killers didn't help at all .

"I tried but it's to loud my brain felt like it was gunna burst out my skull". My chest is still heaving and I'm still finding it difficult to breath but I'm slowly calming down and it's completely back to normal once we reach her office. She sets me down and lets me get settled. I pull my phone out just to let George know what's going on I did tell him I'd keep him updated. "We'll that's went as well as I'd pictured". I place my phone back onto the table and take out my notebook .

"I haven't got any work for you to do as of just yet so just catch up on anything you need to get done, I've got a meeting I need to attend to will you be alright in here by yourself" . She checks her watch as if keeping an eye on the time

"Yeh it's quiet in here I'll be fine". I send a smile her way hoping to convey what I need it too.

"Alright we'll Mr Cahills office is just next door if you need anything please ask him and I'll be back at 3 and we can have another little chat before you go is that okay"

"Yeh that's okay , thank you Miss" . She then leaves and it gives me a second to just think on my own my screen lights up with George's contact and I scramble to pick it up

"What happened are you okay" he sent it with a picture of his class looking like there playing football and he's just off to the side.

"It was just to loud and too crowded and my brain was gunna explode so I came back to Miss Conner's office". My notebook is just full of lyrics and unfinished songs. There's a few that are complete but there not all the good really to me anyway.

George's replies within seconds "we'll at least you know you've got Miss Conner's to keep you right and I'm glad you came to me"

"We'll I did say I'd keep you informed , also I thought you were on the football team, why aren't you playing"

"I really couldn't arsed today honestly, I'm sooo ready to go home" . A smile creeps onto my face because damn do I get it. I'm so over today and I'm so bloody tired and I don't even feel like I've done anything. "That's understandable"

"Yeh and my teacher is a colossal knob anyway" he's sat there on the gym floor wearing the school gym uniform and to me it's so funny I don't know why but seeing George falling under rules is really funny

"Your really rocking that uniform lad 😂"

"Some can say the same about you "lad" he's smiling in this one his chocolate brown eyes glimmering in the florecent light

"Mate I'm actually fit as fuck right fighting the girls off left right and centre. I don't know about you but I think I rock this uniform quite grandly actually" I'm really not but you know got to raise the stakes push the boundaries

"I mean I get it, your a handsome lad anyone would be lucky to ave ya" . My cheeks start to heat up , does he really think I'm handsome or is he just being nice , I've never really been seen like that by a guy to my knowledge anyway. Some guys are very pretty but I don't see myself as one of them no I'm not gay.

"You really think so !"

"Yeh bro honestly your fit 😉"

It takes me a second to reply because this has just slightly shifted the mood and I don't really know what to do with it. It must take a little longer to reply to him than I thought because he send another message

"Sorry if that's weird"

I rush to reply hoping he doesn't feel bad or hurt "no , no it's alright". I put my phone down for a second just to work on my lyrics for a second and to really get this demo together for Mr Hardy I might be able to practise with the boys later.

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matty healy george daniel adam hann ross macdonald the 1975 fanfic

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Dylan

223/1975 Fan / He/Him Fan fiction Aspiring Writer

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