you're the one that makes me feel right (birthday party matty x reader fluff)
set at like 4pm last friday in a random glasto dressing room. cute as hell, extremely slutty at the end, idk i love them. enjoy <3
even amidst all the madness of the glastonbury artists’ area, full of music blaring and assistants hotfooting it around and raucous laughter at the bar, you can hear matty's voice before you even step into the dressing room. “left, zander, look left - exactly, you fucking legend. smashed it.”
“god, are they still playing?” your mum weaves her way around who you assume is a member of biffy clyro to walk beside you, towards the dressing room and the air conditioning and the ever-louder sound of your fiancé teaching your little brother the intricacies of mortal kombat. “they were logged onto that thing before we'd even left for alanis.”
you huff out a laugh, waving your all access lanyard at the security guy on the door. “you know what either of them would say if they heard you use the phrase logged on in regard to that game?”
she sighs, showing her own lanyard and nodding thanks to security. “another insistent reminder that it's an offline game, no doubt.”
“exactly,” a rush of cold air passes over you when you step into the suite of dressing rooms, and the relief from the baking summer sunshine outside is so palpable you have to bite back a satisfied moan. distraction comes in the form of your two favourite boys cheering, providing both directions to their specific location and another seemingly endless reason for you to smile; still, you can't help but deadpan. “god, i can't believe my fiancé likes me least out of everyone in my family.”
“if you bothered to play this with me, that wouldn't be true,” matty calls from through another doorway. before you get the chance to step through, he's poking his head out into the corridor, beaming at you with the adoration that always tints his gaze whenever he looks at you; you pout your lips for a kiss, and he obliges sweetly before extending an arm out to hug your mum. “how was alanis, then?”
“amazing. mum cried.”
“aww, lynne,” matty rests his head on your mum's, and she grins and pats his arm affectionately. “was that your first time seeing her?”
“since i had the kids, yeah,” your mum smiles fondly at you. “grew up on jagged little pill, didn't you?”
before you can even answer, matty giggles, moving to rest his arms on your shoulders. “honestly, babe, that explains so much about you,” he kisses your forehead, moving to guide you towards one of the sofas. “and zander, to be honest. no wonder you both turned out cool.”
zander scoffs. “i still can't believe you think my sister’s cool.”
you frown. “get out before i batter you.”
“as if you could,” he stands, ruffling your hair on the way out and beaming at your frustrated groan. “pint, mum?”
she nods, smiling - well, smirking - at you and matty. “see you two later, then.”
“bye!” matty waves, turning to you with a mildly judgy expression as soon as the door closes behind them. “you know you've threatened to batter him five times already today?”
“i think that's less than average, to be honest,” you shrug your handbag over your head, tossing it and yourself onto the sofa; matty flops down even more gracelessly a beat later. “that little shit's been pissing me off ever since i've had conscious thought.”
he hums out a laugh, shuffling you so you're sat on his lap and he can rest his head on your chest the way you both love. “i think he's a good lad. he was telling me he's excited about our wedding, you know,” he leans back against the couch to look at you properly, so beautiful you feel your heart flutter; when he grins, you fall in love with him all over again. “so am i. more excited for that than anything else, to be honest.”
you raise a brow. “this from the man literally headlining glastonbury tonight?”
“well, yeah, of course i'm excited about that, but,” matty's hand cups your face, thumb softly rubbing across your lips. “still pales in comparison to marrying you, doesn't it?”
“oh my god,” you bring your hands to your now-blushing cheeks, adoration for the love of your life completely overwhelming you; if not for him holding you, you're sure you'd topple off the sofa and onto the floor. “you're mental, you know that?”
“so i've heard,” matty leans up to kiss your jaw, nudging your hands away so he can peck your lips. “s'true, though - tonight's a dream come true, it really is, but it's scary, you know?” he nuzzles into you. “getting to officially be yours forever… that's just perfect. no downsides, no fear, nothing bad at all.”
“aside from having to sit through every future season of love island with me.”
he grumbles, arm wrapping around you tighter. “can't fucking believe we're missing it tonight,” calloused fingers lightly tap your thigh, a rhythm you recognise as the post-ad jingle from the show. “you're sure we can't just stay here for, like, five minutes longer, just to see it through?”
“delaying a pyramid stage headline slot at fucking glastonbury just so you can finish an episode of love island,” you shake your head, dragging your hands down your face in disbelief. “i can't believe i'm in love with you. i must be insane.”
your fiancé snorts. “shut up. you're obsessed with me,” he blows a raspberry into your neck, kissing up to your face when you giggle; his smile is clear against your skin. “and it's reciprocated.”
“yeah?”
“yeah,” matty's kisses to your neck get stronger, longer, more passionate, and your ability to form sentences and coherent thought and any sort of brain function is slipping away more and more in response. “gonna be thinking about you through my entire performance tonight,” a hand slides its way up your body, stopping on your tit and kneading ever so gently. “and, afterwards, when i get you back in my arms, we're gonna sneak out of the afterparty and come back here,” his lips meet yours, tongue slipping into your mouth with a sexily-familiar ease - just as you start to whine, though, he pulls back with a grin. “and we're gonna watch tonight's episode together. sound good?”
“it does, actually, darling,” you admit, glowing at the way matty's eyes flutter closed when you softly caress his cheek. “i do miss sneaking out of parties to do less wholesome things with you, though, i won't lie.”
“so do i,” matty sighs; you have to stifle a giggle at the juxtaposition of how softly wistful his voice is while he reminisces about fucking you stupid in random dressing rooms and bathrooms and hotel rooms the world over. and then he looks at you again, and you forget to focus on anything that isn't a musing on how pretty he is. “reckon we'll be too tired for that later - cos, you know, we go to bed at 10 now - but,” his hand passes over your asscheek - gently, but you can sense the intention behind it. “we are alone, and we've got hours and hours before either of us need to get ready, so if you fancied me doing any of those things we used to do now… i'd happily oblige.”
“i would very much enjoy that,” you bring your hands round, sliding them down matty's chest to the button of his jeans, smiling at his little moan. “reckon you've got enough energy to fuck me and put on a show later? or d'you want me to be on top?”
“as much as i fucking love watching you ride me, gorgeous,” so fast you can barely register how he does it, matty flips the two of you over, so you're sitting properly on the couch and he's above you, grinding into you as slow as dripping honey and pulling equally as sweet whines from your lips. “i really, really want to fucking rail you right now.”
“fuck,” you open your mouth, groaning when your fiancé spits in it before crashing his lips to yours. it's a sloppy, sloppy kiss, all licking and biting and sucking and moaning, so good that you genuinely whimper when matty pulls away and stands up. “where are you going?”
“just gonna lock the door, darling,” he strokes your face before standing, darting to the door and bolting it before making a beeline for the stage outfits rail. “and i'm also looking for… this,” as he wanders back over to you, jeans unbuttoned and t-shirt creased from your desperate grabs, he holds up the bundle of black fabric; only when he gets closer do you realise it's a folded tie, and you open your mouth before he can even ask. “oh, good girl,” matty coos, securing the already spit-soaked accessory behind the back of your head. he brings his hands round to gently hold your cheeks, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel your underwear get wetter at how obvious his love for you is in his eyes. “you ready, sweetheart?”
you nod enthusiastically, spreading your legs as much as he allows and speaking as best you can through the tie. “yeth.”
