Word Count: 1,416
Summary: "Can you do one where the reader is kinda chubby and has a stutter but is really smart and can speak different languages and is certified to teach social studies and she thinks she's not good enough for matty but he tells her differently and it's really fluffy pls"
You knew you weren't Matty's typical girl.
The thought haunted you from the moment he left your side, leaving his number with you. You knew it. Thicker thighs, stuttering about - you did not fit the bill of the traditional model-type with a soft voice that Matty seemed to go for. It sounded cliche when you thought about it, and you felt silly putting any mind to it, but the thought lingered. Even as you texted him and he replied with wishes to see you again, you could not help but think it wasn't right. The whole thing felt off, at least to you. You wished you knew how Matty felt. Perhaps then, you would get some closure and be able to not worry about it.
But that's what you did - you worried. You spent your days teaching social studies to the young minds of Manchester while Matty hopped back on his tour, all the while wondering if you really should take him up on his offers to see you more. He'd probably grow bored of life with you, you supposed. Your smarts and knowledge of multiple languages could only make you so interesting for so long. He was a rockstar, with a rockstar lifestyle and an itch to keep going no matter how much he needed rest. You loved rest and the idea of settling down. It couldn't work. There was no reason it could.
Yet, you found yourself weeks later staring at a new message, again from Matty. He asked for a drink, wishing to catch up now that their tour was over and he had the time to properly do so. The battle you waged mentally, your mind pushing you to go and ignore your fears while simultaneously telling you every little thing that could go wrong, was punishing. Eventually however, you came to decide that despite all your better judgement, it would be best to go face the boy. After all, you were still only friends. What bad could come from two friends sharing drinks?
Self consciousness, for one. That you felt the moment you walked up to the place Matty had sent you the address for. Everyone hanging around the place looked stunning. The girls along with the guys looked to be straight out of magazines, as corny as the phrase was. Did Matty honestly think you would be able to fit in with this crowd? You shook your head.
Panic, as you went in and noticed that the joint was crowded. You had no idea where to find Matty, and the close space meant that you were bumping into people just to try to find him. It nearly resembled your worst nightmare. You struggled to stay calm.
Embarrassment, when you finally caught his eye. He is sitting at a back table, typing away on his phone in that dark outfit of his as if the club's chaos were not evident to him. You took three steps forward in his direction before falling clean on your face, tripping on a girl's long dress. She scowled at you, but soon hands were felt bringing you up. Upon being picked up, you realized they were Matty's. He sent you a gentle smile, looking you over.
"All well, love? Sorry, these places can be a bother."
Nodding, you took his hand and followed him back to the table he had been at. You sat on the leather cushion and watched his eyes grazed over you, his own body settling back into his seat. He called for the waitress, and she took down your drink order in no time. With a sip on what appeared to be a gin and tonic, Matty sighed.
"How has life been treating you? I feel like it's been ages since I last saw you. You haven't changed a bit."
You worried your lip between your teeth. "Fine. And s-sorry 'bout that."
His forehead scrunched up, revealing creases that pronounced his age far more than the tired circles beneath his eyes. He looked almost hurt by your reaction. "What is there to be sorry for?"
"W-Well...not to bring down the mood and all, but I-I'm not really t-that much," you confessed, shrugging. Matty opened his mouth to speak, but you continued on, your mind deciding that now was the time to get going on spilling your every little emotion stored up from the past. "I-I don't do anything c-cool, and I stutter, and I a-am f-far from model worthy. I'm s-still wondering why you ever chose m-me to give your number to."
Matty could keep quiet no more. "{Y/N}, shush. You're so much more than you are selling yourself off to be."
"But-"
"No," he countered, firm enough to send you silent, "I'm serious. Sure, you aren't like people you've seen me with previously, but perhaps there is a reason for that? Perhaps I'm looking for someone new, someone who excites me when I talk to them and ramble on about anything and everything until I'm too tired to reply back. Perhaps I'm looking for someone who I feel I click well as a friend with, someone who I know is genuine and is not into me for any superficial reasonings tied to my career or social standing. Perhaps I'm ready to be into someone for their heart and their mind instead of superficial reasons such as body or career. Even then, you have nothing to worry about on that front. I love the way you look, and I love how passionate you are towards those who teach. I've told you that countless times over the phone. I mean it. Fuck, {Y/N}, you're fantastic. I gave you my number because I was able to see that the moment I started to get to know you."
Your heart could barely take it. "Y-You're serious? I'm not too boring o-or t-too weird?"
Matty shook his head. "Far from it. I dig the kind of person you are. You're uniquely you and honestly the fact that you are so unapologetically that is more attractive than any fancy career or model look. You're perfectly you. And I'd want you nothing less than that."
Before you could reply or even function, Matty's lips were on yours, softer than silk, gentle and caring and easing your worries away. You had never expected this, even in your good scenarios of how the day would go. You did not complain, however. How could you? Lips coated with alcohol but as sweet as honey were against yours, and they belonged to the boy who you had stayed up hours with texting, forcing yourself not to fall for all the while falling deeper and deeper with each letter typed. It was a dream come true. Only a fool would complain. Releasing you, Matty pulled back and smiled, one of those dashing smiles that sent fangirls wild. It spread to you, contagious.
"D-Did that j-just happen?"
Still grinning wide, Matty nodded. "I think it did, babe."
"D-Did you just call me babe?"
Nodding again, Matty's eyes seemed to sparkle. "That I did."
"What-"
"Go out with me."
Your eyes widened. "A-Are you even serious?"
"One hundred percent."
"E-Even after-"
"You could teach old folks how to sing for a living and look like the Monster from the Black Lagoon and I wouldn't be bothered," he replied, adding a giggle to the end of his words. "Please. Let me show you how you deserve to be treated. I swear it's not the alcohol talking or anything stupid or contrived like that. I really want to show you how you should be loved. Please, {Y/N}. Let me give you that."
Just like the kiss, you could barely believe what was happening. Matty, The Matty Healy, wanted to date you of all people? It seemed fake. Everything screamed fake. And yet, you couldn't shake yourself of the truth and seriousness within Matty's eyes. That called to you, beckoned you to believe him. Going against your mind's tricks and negativity, you threw the boy from Manchester a nod. With his eyes lighting up, you knew it was the right decision. His lips were back on you again, slightly firmer but still just as soft and loving as before. They seemed to tell you that this would be alright, that he'd love you no matter what. Sure, you were different, but Matty liked different. He was ready to learn to love it.
Kissing him back, you were ready to learn to love it alongside him.