That 000000 & ffffff || Matty Healy

Where's The Fun In Doing What You're Told?

"Matty!" I squeal quietly. "Put me down, you dick!"

His free hand taps my butt, "And risk you possibly dying before meeting the kitchen? I think not, baby."

I groan, wiggling around and kicking my legs a bit, but he's unmoved, merely gripping me tighter or smacking my ass when I'm too misbehaved. "I hate you," I mumble.

"Love you too, sweetheart," He sets me down on a stool by the island at the center of the kitchen and lets out a soft grunt. I'll admit, I'm getting a bit pudgy. "Now," He says, "What do you want to eat?" He walks over to turn the lights on and I'm immediately groaning with distaste.

"What have you got?" I ask, trying to remember the array of food from earlier.

"Not much," He admits with a chuckle, "The dog kind of devoured the line up." He opens the fridge door, peering inside. He takes out a few containers and at the sight alone, my stomach growls.

"I'm fucking famished," I moan, pouting.

"I know," He mumbles, plating out a few of the dishes, "I'm sorry, baby, I should have fed you before you forced yourself on me."

My mouth drops, "Excuse me? I did no such thing!"

He quirks an eyebrow, grinning to himself, "Oh really? Because I do recall you being quite assertive a few hours ago," He muses, placing the food in the microwave and bustling the containers back in the fridge. "You grabbed me by the shirt and said, 'you're my bitch tonight' then tried to have your way with me, but poor Aunt Emily walked in, utterly appalled and gave us a scolding, which you fell asleep in the middle of, mind you, with your hand still in my pants."

I stare at him in horror, trying to remember. I do recall an Aunt Emily but I don't know if I'd seen her at all. Matty busts out laughing, "Your face is priceless!" I furrow my brows before realizing what a fuckboy he's being. I reach over the island and smack his arm.

"You ass!" He snorts and apologizes but isn't sincere in the least. He eventually does tell me the actual happenings of the night as we share a plate of leftovers.

He tilts his head, "Do you want to head back to the flat?"

I shake my head, "Nope," I say, popping the 'p'.

"Oh? You were so adamant on getting me back to yours earlier." I glare at him for holding my drunkenness over me, and battle with him for the last piece of chicken on the plate.

"I wanna stay here," I confess, "and fuck you in your childhood room." I effectively steal the last piece of meat, popping it in my mouth as I lazily fight a smirk playing at my lips. He looks amused and shocked and I quite like the way that he isn't sure of how to reflect his feelings on his face at the given moment.

"You're a menace."

I glance downward as he takes the plate and washes it in the sink, "I talk a lot of shit but I'm scared as fuck, Matty."

"Don't be," He says as if it's the easiest thing.

I pout, "Dr. DILF said when I have sex again, it'll be like losing my virginity all over again. That shit's not cute, Matty."

"Dr. DILF?" He questions, "You mean Feelg - er, Fisher?" I chuckle and nod. He reiterates my humor as he wipes his hands on a towel and takes a seat beside me. "Did it hurt?" He asks.

"When I fell from heaven?" I tease, leaning forward, closer to him.

He flicks my nose lightly, "I'm very aware that you've crawled out of Hell, Marcy."

"Hey!" I bat at his hands when he pats my cheeks.

He laughs and catches my wrists. "I mean, you know, your first time."