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#I hope the fact that it's a bit longer makes up for the delay

arcanusarchieves-if · 2 months

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Hiiii happy weekend!! Hope you are having a good one! 😇 oh and that writing isn't doing your head in.

But!!

How would the ROs react to MC getting them flowers randomly and when asked why they did, saying "i saw them and thought of you"

Also just btw I'm already gone when it comes to Caspian and Solaine... sooooo... 👀

Astoria blinks, staring down at the bouquet of flowers in front of her. Something uncertain flashes in her usually kind eyes as a few beats of awkward silence passes. Eventually though, a familiar warm smile spreads across her face. She looks at you fondly, gently taking the flowers with her delicate yet steady hands. "I'm flattered - truly. Although I feel bad that I don't have anything to give you in return...ah! I know, how about I take you out to {insert mealtime here}. There's this lovely little diner down by- well I'll just show you. Let me grab my coat real quick - and don't even think about grabbing your wallet/purse! It's my treat!"

Caspian simply raises a brow, grey eyes flickering with an odd mixture of amusement and confusion. Leaning forward ever so slightly, he plucks the flowers out of your hands with a smooth motion. He slowly brings them closer to his face, examining them with a small huff that sounded a bit too fond to be considered annoyed. "You thought of me when you saw these? Well, I guess I can't pretend to know what's going on in your head - even after all this time... *small snort*. Well, c'mon then. Let's find somewhere to put these...I think I might have a vase around here somewhere..."

Sharp violet eyes glance suspiciously at you before glancing back down to the bouquet in your arms. Solaine scowls slightly as they take in the sight seeming annoyed that you would even waste their time with something like this - still you catch something similar to uncertain longing flash in their gaze for the briefest of moments. Eventually, they let out a small scoff and looks away. "Reminded you of me? Unless they have any particular useful herbal properties, I don't see why giving them to me would even cross your mind. No - don't throw them out. That would just have made this a waste of both our times. Just - put them over on that shelf over there. I'm sure I'll find some use for them..."

Maeve shifts around in the spot she's standing in, seeming uncertain if she should be annoyed or flattered. She seems to decide on some awkward mixture of both - reaching out to grab the flowers in a quick and oddly aggressive movement. Surprisingly her touch seems gentle once she actually manages to get a grasp on the bouquet. She snorts a little as she stares down at it - a small flush spreading over her cheeks. "I don't see why these would remind you of me exactly. They seem much more up Jasp's or Goody-Two Shoes' alley...but...thanks, I guess. They're not exactly my style but - hey! I didn't say they were bad did I? Ugh. I'm sure Jasper has a place I can put these. Why are you just standing there? Are you coming or what?"

A deep flush slowly spreads over Jasper's face as his amber eyes stare down at the bundle of colors in your arms. He seems in disbelief for a few seconds, as if expecting you to suddenly declare it was some sort of joke, before reaching out with a gentle motion to take the flowers in his own hands. He examines them for a few moments before breaking out into a flustered and somewhat giddy grin. "These are so nice! You're so nice. Thank you so much. Erm, I don't know what I'm supposed to say haha... I don't have anything for...erm. Oh! What kind of flowers do you like? Maybe I can get them- or if you don't like flowers we can go somewhere. Together. Obviously. Let me just grab my wallet and put these in a vase and then we can go - if you want to that is. I feel like I'm rambling...am I rambling? Sorry. I'm just really happy - nobody's ever gotten me flowers before."

#Sorry it took so long!#I hope the fact that it's a bit longer makes up for the delay #I did have a good weekend though!#and I hope you did as well #ask #answered #reaction ask #scenario ask #ro: all #character: mc #arcanus archives #Arcanus

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satomatto · 7 months

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. //ALL BOYS | hybrid au.

ch: cat hybrids!gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, ryomen sukuna, choso; dog hybrids!geto suguru, itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji; snake hybrid!naoya zenin; dolphin hybrid!inumaki toge; parrot hybrid!mahito; fox hybrids!nanami kento, noritoshi kamo.

cw: concept of hybrids; heat/rut.

tw: breeding kink; hickeys/bites; overstimulation/overexcitement; somnophilia; maybe they all have some yandere-isms; delaying orgasm; multiple orgasms; naoya is as scummy as ever; voyeurism; maybe!non-con; rough sex; who even reads tags; cunnilingus; slit play; submissive!inumaki, yuji; mirror sex; is big dick a warning? big dicks; creampie; pour yourself a warm cuppa, don't be like author; dirty talk; tender sex; size difference.

cw: 6.6k

GETŌ SUGURU

Geto is a nice guy, he won't push you over the top excessively, well able to handle the rut on his own. But it's so boring! In fact, you might not even notice how more and more translucent, wet smudges appear on your mattress every night. He'll even go so far as to use your thighs to recreate the illusion that he's fucking you when the sheets and his hand are no longer enough for self-satisfaction.

Oh, he clearly understands where the boundaries are, firm and unconditional. It's unlikely you'll realize there's something wrong with him before it's too late to do anything about it - he's already struggling to contain himself throughout the day, patiently waiting for the moment when he can touch you with impunity, but if his overall arousal rises even the slightest bit, he'll just short-circuit.

Not in the sense of nonstop, wild fucking - nope, really; his affection and the sweet desire that had overwhelmed him would come out in one solid, warm lump. He'll literally cling to you - he'll wallow in bed with you, wrapped in the sheets, cradling you and sucking on your shoulders and neck, needing attention and stubbornly ignoring your pleas for it to stop, he might even growl at you if you try to break free of his grip. Even though you won't succeed without it - Suguru will still get rougher with you if you offer any resistance. But even so, you probably won't be able to figure out what's exactly going on with him - it's more like a typical bout of tenderness, which he gets quite often because he loves you.

From now on, anything he's done in secret before will no longer be. And you're gonna have to accept that - you should know by now what a piece of shit he really is. This man will do the same thing to you, only now and when you're awake. Oh, don't worry, he won't touch you unless you beg for it. And you will. He likes the way you taste. You can be sure he won't disappoint you; his nimble, harsh tongue sure is capable of a lot - how long do you think he will let you go? I hope you know that his stamina increases a lot during the rut.

You'll probably wake up one day to the unearthly sensation of his tongue in your hole as Suguru moans into your pussy, obviously touching himself down there, making you cum for the umpteenth time in a row. Or from the way he, decides to take advantage of your hips while you sleep peacefully in the, now shared, bed. Sly dark eyes look completely innocent - like he's picking out a bun for his breakfast - oh, baby, he's not doing anything wrong, so you don't have to forgive him!

"Nah, nah, nah, calm down, honey. It's no big deal." Someday, that sly squint will drive you crazy.

GOJŌ SATORU

An already very insolent creature turns into an absolute asshole whose meanness is elevated to an absolute. Oh, do you really want to trade him in for your useless, boring job? Sweetie, you're so naive to believe he'll let you out of bed for a couple hours. You'd better take the weekends off, for the duration of his rut, because he won't be thinking about secondary things like your general busyness. When mating season starts - all you have to worry is him. Your only concern, to whom you'll have to give all your free (and not) time, one way or another.

This guy remains a teaser even when he himself is panting with desire. He has the stamina, frankly, to taunt you despite his aching cock, even in moments of complete shutdown of any self-consciousness - it's like his second nature. One of his favorite tricks is to pump you as much as he can into you, making sure your eyes roll back as hard as they can and your throat makes those sweet sounds of pleasure just for him, turning your poor, already fucked-up brain into a fucking mess.

Gojo always demands a lot of your attention, but then again, almost all of the unpleasant aspects of his personality are more pronounced when mating season begins. His favorite thing to do during this time is to make you almost cry with pleasure while you squeeze his cock so sweetly. His stamina on such days is just off the charts, if on normal days you passed out from overexcitement and fatigue, what do you think will happen then when he wants to fuck you for hours on end? Nothing good, that's for sure. It'll be a half dream and half vision for you - you might pass out during the process and then suddenly start screaming, probably from the pain in your tortured pussy when you wake up - if he's already on instinct, he'll cum in you over and over again, squeezing your thighs until he passes out, or until the obsession wears off.

Satoru even can help you take a shower, though he has a negative attitude toward it, rather than a tolerant one. In fact, you really need his help, because even standing up afterwards can be a bit difficult. I strongly recommend not to refuse it - during his animal outbursts, you better not argue with him (yes, he cares about you purely on instinct). A man will prefer you to complain less and listen to him more - even if all he can utter is inarticulate mooing and scraps of simple words, which is highly expected at the peak of his rut. Along with that, he's soothed by the sound of your voice-even if sometimes his brains are so cluttered that he has no idea what you're saying, able to recognize only intonation and subtly sensing any change in your speech.

"Mm, sweetie, I don't think…" Even after half an hour this sentence was still not finished. Well, he really doesn't think.

NAOYA ZEN'IN

This naga really annoys you. In fact, Naoya thinks you owe him a debt. To be grateful or not is up to you, but his opinion is the only constant: you were chosen by him, so you belong to him now, and you should be grateful that he treats you that way. He will make you say those words over and over again, delaying orgasms, or covering your body with love bites (careful, he's poisonous, but you might say you're lucky - there's an aphrodisiac flowing in his fangs right now, thank him for that <3). Maybe that's not enough? Don't worry, he'll go to the lengths of hurting you for real too, mere spanking and pinching will seem like child's play compared to what he'll do if you don't satisfy him and his sick fantasies.

Fortunately or miserably, this bastard is perfectly in control of himself during the breeding season. Even if he's pounding and shaking at times, if you see him curled up in some dark and warm corner, know that there's no cause for concern - it doesn't hurt him much, just his body doesn't know where to put all that energy. However, Naoya himself perfectly knows where he can use it. If you hear a soft crackling sound from somewhere behind the door, don't be in a hurry to take off your clothes - you can change later, but if the crackling sound is accompanied by a hiss, you'd better turn into a docile and submissive slut and spread out on the bed, throwing your new outfit as far away as possible.

As said above, the naga is perfectly self-controlled, so don't be surprised if you feel the tip of his tail between your legs, playfully stroking your thigh and pressing against your heat through your clothes. Yes, Naoya does it on purpose - just to watch your reaction. It gives him a kind of… Voyeuristic satisfaction - sort of the same nature as those rare occasions of watching you from behind closed doors while he tries to touch himself as quietly as possible, drilling you with the stare of narrow, golden eyes while you unsuspectingly pull off your clothes and wiggle your hips ever so brazenly. He could go further - he knows you won't stop him, but he won't, torturing himself and even you, who've been guessing a little about his fascination lately, with the agonizing wait, only to be left with nothing.

Of the good (and partly even sad): just because he wants you to carry his children doesn't mean nature agrees with him. His body is incapable of forming "proper" embryos inside the eggs - they're all somehow, in their own way, but defective; most likely this has come about as a result of long and not very skilled breeding, as well as frequent incest, but either way, the fact remains. So, after these sessions, they usually just turn into nothing. Well, really, don't say anything about it. For better or for worse, both are insulting and offensive to him in their own way (you're not going to be well, just trust me).

"What idiotic problem do you have this time? Well, let's solve it together… " A dangerous clicking sounded behind you. Don't turn around.

INUMAKI TOGE

So obedient and endlessly tender boy. While his slit is oozing with lubricant - he tries to continue helping you with the cooking, gradually losing his head more and more. Light, quiet trills come out of his mouth, getting more like a squeak from literally your any movement. You can play with him a little - so vulnerable in this state. For example, you could accidentally spill water on him or knock over a bowl of cream, and then start rubbing the wet, sticky apron, pressing and rubbing the spot as if by accident.

Inumaki wouldn't be able to tolerate this for long. Literally in a matter of hours, he would be completely and utterly transformed into a lustful, needy mess. If he has to beg for your attention, you should know, he will Sharp little teeth will nibble at your skin, leaving light marks on it, and a heavy, husky sniffle will tickle your ear for just as long as it takes. Anticipating your question: no, he won't be able to handle it on his own - his brains were already mush the moment he looked at you.

You can put your fingers in his slit and he'll squirm and moan just from the feel of your fingers in his crotch, but if you push them in a little deeper and massage what's inside… He'll go crazy - you just have to run your fingers over what you might call the underside of his cock; the guy will only whimper and beg you to continue, lifting his hips and moving them to meet your hand. If you don't want him to finish so soon, take your fingers out of his hole and wiggle your fingers around a bit, applying pressure and running them downward. Once his dick slips out, unable to stay there because of the copious amounts of natural lubrication - no matter how much Inumaki wants you to, you can do whatever you want with the guy - he won't resist He just can't.

He always makes that lustful yet totally innocent, angelic face when you touch him. He's happy to let you ride him, during a hot period, he's just not in control of himself (as he's basically always been - a guy can hardly be aware of his actions when he's aroused. You can make him perform the most idiotic action time after time - he won't suspect a thing. Here's the truth, though, that doesn't mean that after Toge cools off a bit, he won't blush and run off somewhere far away from you; don't be unkind). But, if you're starting to think he's a snot, he's not so much submissive as horny, and in that state of mind, easier to hand over the reins of control to someone who's not completely out of his head and capable of doing the right thing.

Just drag him into the bathtub - you'll be instantly pinned to the wall, because he's no longer in control of his transformation, at a time when even his thoughts are flowing sluggishly, with great difficulty - barely. Caress his thighs, the place where the human part of him touches his tail. His belly will turn pink and his slit will begin to ooze lubrication. His chirping will softly caress your ears, and his naughty fingers will find your warm spot pretty quickly. Seeing you enter a state like his makes Inumaki bite his lip. Careful with that, though - the teeth, which aren't large, are all razor sharp.

"Hn-n," the guy moans, followed immediately by a short, loud and awkward trill, cutting himself short. But why, such a sweet sound isn't something to be embarrassed about.

ITADORI YUJI

This guy is actually obsessed with your butt. The enthusiasm with which he moves his hips into you and digs his hands into your plump ass every time, kneading it like dough - real dedication, any way you look at it. He doesn't usually have this kind of eagerness, but right now, it looks almost desperate - the occasional thrusts and the subtle whimpers continuously emanating from his throat are so turned on. Despite the fog in his head, he's still trying to hold himself back for you - it's so sweet, don't you think?

Itadori will try so hard for both of you - so hard that you'll have to force him to let you go so you don't both die of dehydration and you stop getting a hellish cramp in your hips with every thrust he makes. He'll use your holes around the clock if you let him - but he's a good boy, so he'll stop if you ask him to. In other, don't expect any indulgences, he has almost low control over himself, being at the mercy of his instincts and hellish, unbridled arousal all day long - poor Yuji himself is waiting for it all to end, it exhausts him almost to the point of insanity.

He loves making you cum at the same time as him; at the same time, he's always hungry for your praise - he literally melts from it, go ahead. You can gently touch your belly as you sit on his knot, push a little on the protruding outline of his cock - this boy already whimpers every time you squeeze him, hell yeah he'll go crazy Yuji just can't help himself and will start licking your face like a real puppy, and please - please (!), touch it, touch it lower…

It might be safer for you to wait it out, but I'm afraid that if you do, Yuji won't be able to forgive himself or you. He'll be able to let you go, he won't hold you back, but his trust in you will be shattered. Okay, if it happens in the beginning, before the guy even touches you, but if you disappear a couple days later, or even near the end, Itadori will be very worried about it. Yeah, he'll be freaking out - what if he did something wrong? Did he hurt you? Or maybe you just stopped liking him? No, no. For a creature who only seeks your approval, this would equate to a simple ditching - you'd break his heart.

"P-mg-please…!" Itadori is rendered speechless by how skillfully you saddle his hips. Don't slow down.

MAHITO

Mahito is crazy on his own - the heat has almost no effect on him unless he wants it himself. If you think he doesn't normally touch you - you are sorely mistaken. He may spend nights exploring your body out of pure interest, Mahito won't hold back his curiosity even if you catch him doing it - in fact, it will only encourage him to continue, even with more fervor, roughly touching everything he can reach with his fingers.

The guy will spread your legs, playing with your hole and rubbing your wretched clit until you start gasping from overexcitement and inability to cum. Oh, this guy is cunning - he'll use every trick in his arsenal to bring you to the point of exhaustion. You may be wondering why you can't cum. It's simple really, Mahito just won't let you do it until he's played with you. You're wondering "how"? Well, speaking of his tricks, some manipulation of your soul results in this - you'll start feeling his touch everywhere, by the end of your adulteries, there won't be a place on your body that this pervert hasn't touched; indeed, inside you too.

He'll let you play with the feathers on his wings. In truth, he looks more like a particularly fluffy bat than a bird. They're actually very soft, but you don't want to touch them for too long - just look at his eyes at that moment and you'll understand. If suddenly he grabs you and presses you against him, burying his nose in your neck, don't twitch, and certainly don't try to break free. Relax and sit like that for a few minutes - settle on his hips, make yourself as comfortable as you like, fidget as much as you like - the guy's like Ken in there, so you don't have to worry about that, but you don't want to provoke his irritation.

On average, it's still not that bad. If only Mahito didn't clean out your fridge daily, things would still be exactly as they should be. But, of course, the weirdness doesn't end there - one day he might just come along and screw your ass - it's up to you to decide what to do about it. Hopefully you know how a prostate massage is done, it will probably be enough for him - at the very least just play with his hole, oh it will throb so violently every time you hit some point deep inside the guy. After all, this creature better not be denied too harshly.

"Ha-ha-ha!" The guy laughs loudly as you burrow your fingers into his feathers. Just, don't yank those overly hard.

NANAMI KENTO

Nanami is a sufficiently mature man to sit down with you before all of this and discuss some of the details of the coming period. Along with that, you have to decide what to do about it - he'll ask you a few times if you're ready for it before settling down and leaving you to mull over what's going on. The fox has enough control over his state of mind that, if anything, he'll be able to stop in time and not hurt you much - at most, it'll be bruises on the wrists he likes to hold above your head so much. Usually, he tries to finish as quickly as he can, but sometimes he'll catch on.

You might regret allowing yourself the idea that sex with him is boring when the man continues to lazily thrust into you after two hours, not wanting to stop and shoving his cock into your tortured holes no matter what. But judging by the fact that even in this state, Kento continues to care about more than just his own pleasure - you're bound to cum next. Probably more than once. A man likes it when you beg him and call him daddy. He has no idea why, but it makes him fuck you rougher, counting to sparks from your eyes and buckling legs, possibly affecting your ability to sit up properly or even stand without bending over from the pain in your stomach and ass… It's sure to be worse than your period.

Kento is a responsible man, he will definitely take care of his partner afterwards, because he knows very well what state you're in right now. He'll help you get to the bathroom if you don't mind - he'll even wash you with a nice bit of warm water, and in the morning you'll have breakfast waiting right in bed. After all, like a true gentleman, he should take care of you, no matter how tired he is; after all, you also took care of him. The only exception is when you make him jealous. In those cases, he is unable to even clean himself up, let alone do anything else. And, you're already wondering how to do it.

After this ambiguous period, Nanami will lose a lot of weight because his body can no longer consume food in the same quantities as it did during the rut. At times, he will simply forget to eat, due to his poor condition - frequent dizziness and general weakness, he will be immensely pleased if you show care towards him. It is better to ventilate the apartment more often - low temperatures man tolerates better than heat - and already tired of this condition, the man will want only normal rest. In addition, it is worth specifying the fact that he has a very sensitive sense of smell. Sharp odors irritate him, be careful with this.

"Are you alright?" A slightly hitched, loud breath comes out of the man's chest with a slight whoosh.

NORITOSHI KAMO

Noritoshi is a pretty darling dude, he's embarrassed enough to talk to you about it, but he'll definitely give you a couple words of warning so it's not a total surprise. Sweetness, he just doesn't know what to make of it. It's just as unfamiliar to him as it is to you - feeling his own body in this way is obviously new to the boy. So, he will definitely ask for your help in solving this problem.

During the rut, the guy stays calm and even seems a bit sleepy, and that's actually true - if he could, he'd be asleep all day long, but alas, it will not be possible to just lay this thing off - no matter how much he wants to. If the fox seems a little grumpy to you at first, that's normal. Aggression in the first couple of days is natural for his species, and even though he tries his best to keep it to a minimum, his fluffy tail will still rise up every time he sees you. Massage his head, especially near his ears, and play with his hair a bit - you can comb it with a coarse-toothed comb to relax him.

The guy is as calm as a boa constrictor during this process - he has only one goal, to release tension; mostly his own, but you can work with that - the guy just doesn't know what to do with you, guide him a little, help him understand exactly what you want from him and he will pick it up immediately - he learns quickly. After all, Camo is well aware that there's not much you can do alone - he's at your pleasure, especially when he's blown away. The pace stays the same, darling, you probably won't even notice it, because you'll be blacking out just a couple minutes after the guy enters this state - most likely neither you nor he will understand why it happened; he - because he doesn't remember anything that happened to him during this state, you - for obvious reasons, just can't know it. Only the marks on your body and neck will be any hint of what happened.

Noritoshi is trying to take care of you - he's not a stupid person and realizes that you need follow-up care, even if you seem quite alert. He will gently but insistently guide you to the bathroom and put you to bed, perhaps he can also stretch your stiff legs if he notices that you can't find a comfortable position. You can ask him for help at any time - his fluffy ears will instantly turn in your direction, and he'll listen to your every word.

"Lay still, you need to rest." To the question: "do you?" the guy only lets out a slight, barely elusive chuckle and sighs deeply.

OKKOTSU YUTA

It's not so clear-cut with him. You can't be fully prepared for your furbaby's heat, no matter what you do before it. No one knows what will suddenly click in his poor head and what he will do to fulfill his desires. You don't have to worry, though - he treats you like a princess, carries you around on his arm and makes you stay close to him; even if you don't like it very much, I highly recommend listening to him. Well, if it makes you feel any better - Yuta will always be more dangerous to others than to you.

Oh, his flushed face is so inviting. Press your lips against his - bite them, kiss them like it's your last time, and he'll return the favor. Yuta usually moves at a relatively slow pace, letting you relax and get used to him - to fully experience the process. The tingles rushing across your skin like electric shocks, something brackish on your lips, the cool air from the room contrasting so sharply with the heavy, hot breath that mingles with your languid moans caressing your ears.

Okkotsu likes it when you're on top. No, you still don't have complete control - Yuta is like a caring, overprotective parent, sort of letting his baby have all the fun he wants, but ready to interrupt and take over at a moment's notice. In fact, he really does treat you like a baby. Despite the external insecurity, the guy is really aware of what he is doing and what consequences can come out of all this - he has plenty of responsibility, but sometimes it's hard to take him seriously. Ah, yes, in spite of that, you still have to deal with a little bit of guardianship from his side, although it should be the other way around, but that's another story.

This cutie is hungry for affection - you can touch him everywhere, from his soft (slightly greasy) ears to the tip of his tail. His reaction will probably be the most adequate - he likes to be touched, but he is calm about it, without much passion, like a normal cat, even when he is constantly in a state of slight excitement. Unless your actions become a little more intense. A little more pressure, a slight pull, a soft and rhythmic massage, lower… This will already be perceived as a signal for action. But don't worry, you can touch him at any time without any problems - he even encourages it. In his own way, with a short lick on the cheek or a playful nibble on the neck, but he's really pleased that you're taking such initiative.

"Hey-hey-hey-hey, sparkle, that's not the point-you shouldn't be walking around like that after being so overwhelmed!" The guy turns around to see you, awakened by the delicious aroma coming from the kitchen and now frozen in the doorway, wagging your tail unhappily as the oil in the pan sizzles and shoots upwards. Oops, looks like you accidentally ruined the surprise.

RYŌMEN SUKUNA

Do you think he's possessive? Well, I'll stop you in your tracks - more like yandere on steroids. You'll have to take a day off work - better a vacation right away, because Sukuna will not tolerate other people's scent on you at any stage of his rut - none at all, except his own. Be sure that you have enough food at home, because heaven forbid you should bring even that slight residue of perfume from the elevator on you… It won't be good for you or the unfortunate person whose cologne was left hanging in the air before it settled on your clothes.

Sukuna treats you like a sex slave, a fuck toy, an inferior being, even with his four arms around your frail body and his cocks deep inside your insides and his dry lips whispering dirty words in your ear. His attitude won't change, darling, but you'd better always stay within the confines of the same room with him and obediently spread your legs whenever he demands it. In fact, you can initiate intercourse yourself - he won't stop you from pleasuring him, but know that even after that, he'll be sure to fuck you properly.

His favorite spot is the windowsill; pressing you against the glass, knowing full well that someone might notice you… There's something about it. For some reason, a man especially likes to bend you roughly over right in front of him, making you rest your hands on the frame and shiver with each of his thrusts, while all his hands move slowly all over your body - stroking every curve, your swollen tummy, the waist so perfectly suitable for him to place one pair of his hands on it, your sweet titties bouncing with the rest of your body, while down below, your womb making the loudest, most shameful sounds just for him - Ryomen loves you whole and entire, even if he will never admit it to you or to himself. Oh, if you can ever forget him (which is impossible in itself), the feeling of his cock in your pussy will not be erased from your memory. He is the master in your relationship, rather than you. And he likes to pamper his pet.

Sukuna has a very sensitive tail. If you ever want to touch it, ask permission, and then treat it as if it might fall apart at the slightest gust of wind. Under no circumstances, God forbid, do not sit on it. Never, ever. Ryomen will not look at your relationship or your affection and empty, stale feelings as his heart. He might not kill you, but he'll maim you for sure. In fact, he'll like you all he wants, but you're not likely to bounce back quickly - and the scars on your body will be an eternal reminder of your small but painful misstep and how dangerous he can be. During sexual intercourse, you can lightly massage the very base of his back - where the fur meets the human part of his back - your actions will definitely be met by his approving purr, which may well pass for a growl, only slightly muffled (only for you!). The only thing - make sure that your hands are dry, and the fur does not stick to them (and it is better to touch only human skin around. That area is also sensitive, but he'll probably like it better).

"So pretty, little slut… Come on, come on, get your hand away from your face - I want to see your adorable face!" Mockingly mutters Ryomen, continuing to move, and making you bite your lip as both of his cocks pierce your holes - too much? You beg him to stop.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

Even if Megumi is collected and calm at first, eventually even he'll start to waver. His seemingly stable state will become a trap - he'll be ready to tear you apart if you get too close, because he doesn't know what to do with his new state yet. It's hard for him; try to talk to him from a distance, offer your help - we are responsible for those we tame. If you can make a deal with him, he'll reluctantly get up and follow you into the bedroom, but if Fushiguro starts turning away from you and snorting, looking away and down, stop trying, it's not going to get you anywhere. Of course, I won't stop you from trying, but who knows what he'll do if you keep seducing him.

The guy will bite you. Back of the neck, almost behind the ear - you know. It's not his bad whim (although it's hard to be responsible for that anymore), it's more of an instinct. Is it so hard to wait for him to tag his beautiful mate? He eventually gets used to all this and starts to take a lot more initiative, sometimes grunting tiredly into your neck and wagging his tail, he still doesn't like his condition, but over time the guy becomes more tolerant of it all - taking it for granted, which isn't great, but anyhow better than a complete refusal to deal with it.

Megumi is a smart boy, he knows exactly what happens if you overdo it, so he always picks a pace that is comfortable for both of you. For some reason, Fushiguro likes sex facing a reflection. He often moves that big full-length mirror in the corner of the room to your bed and spreads your legs in front of it, playing with your wet hole for long periods of time, making you squirm in his arms and beg for his cock, occasionally praising you and mumbling what a good girl you are - so obedient in his arms. It really turns him on, his flushed cheeks and eyes twitching with pure delight - what you'll see in that very mirror, if you can do it, while his fingers are so deep inside you, caressing places you didn't even know existed - you just have to wonder, "How?" he manages to do that with just his hands?

He loves it when you cook his food - your cooking basically. You can spend half a day in the kitchen, be sure your labors will not go unnoticed, he will eat everything and thank you. If suddenly, you're wondering about the reward - don't worry, he's very generous, especially when he's fed and satisfied. Megumi is damn fascinated by the way you try to please him - no matter how he's feeling at the moment, he'll always be mesmerized by the movements of your hands as if under hypnosis. Stroke his head, and once you're free, massage his ears, and he'll be completely at your mercy, his eyes at that moment just something filled with boundless devotion and delight.

"Ha-ah, honey, you're just adorable," Megumi kisses you loudly on the top of your head, caressing your thighs with joy in his gaze and pulling you to him. Ah, yes, the sudden bursts of joy and mood swings were worth getting used to.

FUSHIGURO TOJI

Absolute Asshole 2.0. He knows how much you enjoy riding his cock and takes full advantage of it. Toji teases you on purpose - accidentally miss when he seemed ready to be inside you? Slow down at the most inopportune moment? Oh, along with that, he also enjoys watching you melt, literally fall apart on his cock like a trained slut.

Fushiguro prefers to take turns using your holes, making sure both are filled. It's exhausting - but this man is relentless. With him, you're sure to have a hard time. After two days, there won't be a surface in your house that he hasn't fucked you on. Not to mention he'll snap on the first day - ask him to tie himself up and don't expect fair play. And if he does make the knots tight enough, you'll have to voluntarily do to him what he does to you on your own - not without that, alas.

You'll have to force him into the shower - he'll be completely neglected the moment he decides he doesn't need it. In fact, he does - and even if he doesn't normally smell, during the rut the whole house smells of that disgusting musky odor. Relax, though: you'll eventually stop paying attention to him. Fun fact: in this state, Toji just hates the smell of cherries. If you decide to take a bath, use anything that doesn't have a cherry scent.

At times, Fushiguro will just come up to you and grab you like a teddy bear - twirling you around in his arms until you wrap your arms around him with tears in your eyes. There's something about. The way his big hands hold you up in the air and onto his cock with such ease. Hold on tight, it's really wild. After that, Toji really works up an appetite. A vicious appetite. Even if a man doesn't normally deny himself a refill, now he's just going to clean out your fridge, your cupboards, all the food in the house. You're gonna have to use a delivery guy. Use his credit card for that and don't be afraid.

"Baby, I think that smell is disgusting."

CHOSO

Choso will continue to take care of you even when you're in heat. The only problem is that this time his guardianship will increase many times over. Also, the guy is freezing all the time, and with that comes a panicky fear of water, especially cold water. That's why you'll have to sit with him in a thousand blankets and not the best odor coming from this pile, in which, he also rolled before it. He's a cat with a dog's demeanor.

He doesn't really need sexual stimulation, it's just a supplement. His mind is also consumed by instincts, but they are more about protecting his partner and something like nesting attracts him much more than a rude fuck. Of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't need sexual stimulation at all. You'll also have to spread your legs in front of him on a regular basis, but he'll be much softer, still capable of not completely losing control of yourself or the situation - you can totally relax, he'll do it all. If you're not ready for something more, he'll also accept that you just jerk him off - your hands are much nicer than his, covered with rough skin and calluses. Thighs are also an option - he can handle that part of his rut on his own (relatively), but it's up to you to figure out what to do with the rest.

For some reason, Choso really likes to bite you. Every bit of your body that he can reach, your neck will be covered in multiple painful bites and red marks. I'm afraid it's far from the most pleasant thing that's ever happened to you, but really, you're still lucky that it only takes him out in moments of obsession. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to tolerate it so successfully. If your neck is inaccessible - wrapped in bandages, or you've treated it with bitter medication - he might start doing the same thing to your wrists, or hips.

Guy loves when you talk to him - read him a bedtime story, he'll definitely enjoy it. Sometimes, Choso wakes up completely disoriented, as if he's forgotten where he is and what's going on. At such times, all he has to do is hug you and cuddle as tightly as he can, drawing in air and letting your scent fill his lungs completely. Because of this, Choso is often sticky with you, but he flat out refuses to go outside. At least a moment of peace (but don't stay out there longer than usual - otherwise he'll get anxious and might even follow you. This is especially unacceptable because Choso's spatial awareness is abysmal).

"Please don't move. Let's just lie like this… Just a little longer." The dude clearly doesn't notice the sweat dripping off you. He doesn't notice the sweat dripping off you, either, but he not only ignores it, he purrs low and low, burrowing deeper into the blanket.

mm-m, let's talk about… (ask box is open)

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imaginesheaven · 1 year

Text

Lonely Water (GN!Reader x TF141)

Lonely Water

GN!Reader x TF 141 (platonic)

Summary: You crash into the ocean with a helicopter during a mission. Waiting for your hopefully on time rescue you relive some of your favorite memories of your team. Kind of inspired by the song “Hold Back The River” by James Bay.

Callsign: Phoenix

Length: Around 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing as always, angst, mentions of injuries, drowning

“Mayday! Eagle 3 is coming down in the middle of the ocean. The pilot is dead and I have no fucking clue how to fly this thing! … Oh, fucking hell…”

There is nothing but darkness around you. The mysterious but dark night sky with thousand shining stars above you and the deadly ocean lurking beneath you. The water is just waiting for you to lose the last of your endurance so you can sink into its cold embrace.

“I’m stronger than you think”, you hiss at the tiny waves of dark ocean water, but you are actually not sure how much longer you will survive. The cold of the sea comes creeping in what feels for hours now. It made itself a home in your bones so deeply freezing that your lips have turned already blue. The feeling in your arms and legs starts to fade just like your will of survival.

The helicopter sunk within minutes after the horrific crash into the water. There was literally nothing left to cling onto. You wouldn’t be Jack clinging for dear life onto a wooden door, while your true love stays safely above the freezing water.

The thought of the Titanic brings a weak smile onto your lips. At least you still got your humor with you to keep you company.

Darkness fills your mind with the sinking dread that your team probably wouldn’t be fast enough to rescue from this death trap. Your form floats on the water like a dead man hoping to delay the bitter end for just another few minutes.

The exhaustion slowly takes over as your eyes flutter shut desperate for a moment of rest. Cold water comes rushing over your face since the ocean was waiting for its chance to drown you in its embrace. The water is merciless. Adrenaline rushes through your vein bringing back your will to fight. You swim with weak strokes back to the surface. How much longer can you keep up against the sea?

“Oi! Not so fast, Phoenix!”, a familiar voice behind you yells out. The dirt beneath your shoes crunches as you jog through a patch of trees. Wait, a minute. The water surrounding you has vanished? This can’t be real, right? It hast to be a memory.

“Too bad you are so slow, Soap. You could easily catch up with me if you would work out a bit more”, you reply to the familiar voice behind you. Soap stares at you speechless for a second before he speeds up to catch you. Laughing you send him a wink and even put more speed on to outrun him more than easily.

Soap grunts with exhaustion ready to bring you down with him. He jumps forward his arms stretched out. This man is an open book for you for years now. Still grinning you make a step to the side completely out of his reach. Soap falls to the ground without you.

Absolutely pumped you start your little victory dance knowing exactly that in the distance Price, Gaz and Ghost are watching the two of you with binoculars. “That was quite a fall Soap took there”, the Captain comments the downfall of the poor Scott, “Pay up, Gaz.” The young soldier lets out a groan but always pays his bet debts.

“Phoenix could outrun us all, Gaz, never think otherwise”, no matter how often Ghost sees you running he is always mesmerized by your endurance.

“How can you be so damn fast?”, Soap can’t believe he lost once again. You give him a half shrug with your shoulder, “I imagine Death chasing me and what do we say to Death?”

“Not today”, you whisper smiling. The thought of your teammates brings you pure joy despite the fact you are probably going to drown. The only family you ever had and ever needed. For a second you close your eyes hoping to see more memories.

“So, your callsign is Phoenix. What’s the story behind it?”, Gaz asks you with a bright smile on his lips. Sometimes he reminds you of a little boy in a candy store. You can’t believe how much happiness his happiness can bring you.

“Well…”, you start your not so exciting story, but Soap interrupts you immediately: “Phoenix survived a car crash with a big explosion and came back out of its ashes like a Phoenix. Tada! The callsign was born!”

The silence in the room is deafening before you burst out with laughter, “What the hell, Soap?! No, that’s not what happened!” Everyone except Gaz gets a good laugh from this story. He looks so terribly confused and kind of intimidated at the same time.

“Poor Gaz is probably traumatized for the rest of his life. I like to burn things and someone else already had the fucking callsign Pyro so I had to improvise”, you explain him the situation with a few words. The young soldier rolls his eyes. Still a tiny smile on his lips can be seen.

“Have you any idea how hard it was to get Phoenix and Soap as both demolition freaks on the team? Explosions. Fires. Laswell was not happy at all”, Price recalls his quite one-sided conversation with her. The only thing she said was “NO!” over and over again. Well, she also said “FUCKING HELL FOR SURE NOT!” once. But Captain Price gets what he wants in the end.

A tiny tear rolls down your face, but you can’t feel anything anymore. The cold crept into every single fiber of your body. In the end it doesn’t matter anyway. You are still surrounded by water so what matters a single tear escaping? It’s the only one. Way too tired you can’t share more than that tiny tear with the ocean.

“Are you fucking serious? You could have died!”, you hiss angrily at Ghost as you patch the bullet wound in his side up. The tough soldier keeps quiet letting you work. “It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall without a single thought behind those eyes. Except for sacrificing himself for someone else”, you keep going with your monologue. No one dares to speak like that to him. Except you. It’s always you.

Ghost can’t see how your hands are shaking. How the fear takes over your already worry-ridden mind. How you blame yourself for not being fast enough in the end. You could have prevented this from happening.

But Simon knows you better than you yourself sometimes, “Not for anyone. Only for you, Phoenix. I’m sorry, but please stop worrying. Stop blaming yourself. In the end it was my decision. That’s what we do for each other. Keeping each other safe, right?”

Not answering you put away the first med kit finally done with patching him up. Ghost isn’t the one with the soft side, but with you it is so easy to feel safe for once. You stand up hoping to run from this conversation. His hand stops you dead in your tracks as he grabs your wrist, “Right?”

A slight smile appears on your lips still not turning around to face him, “Of course… but you are still a brick wall.” Simon can’t help himself but smile too behind his mask.

What have you done? If Simon would be here with you, he would hold this whole conversation against you. It’s the same reason that has brought you into the middle of the ocean. You wanted to keep them safe. Your team. Your family.

The helicopter was loaded with explosive meant to kill. Bombs. Soap’s favorite. There was no time to defuse them. You had not a single second to think about it. Just enough time to act on impulse. What a great idea to bring the helicopter down over the ocean far away to hurt someone else. But what about you?

“No, you are not stronger than me, Gaz”, Soap puts down the money for his bet. There is never a dull moment with those clowns. A tiny smile appears on your lips as you nurse your lonely drink in your hand.

“What’s so funny?”, Price notices your rather happy facial expression. “Nothing, just happy to be alive”, you reply simply. The Captain doesn’t need an explanation what you mean exactly. He just knows. You don’t need to elaborate how they give you a feeling of being home. How they are like the family you never had before in your life. They are everything you need to be happy.

But now it is time to let go.

Tired you keep your eyes closed as the cold water pulls you down into its embrace. You are not scared anymore to give up this time. Only gratefulness and happiness are present in your heart and mind. The joy you experienced is more than enough for a whole lifetime.

For the last time you open your eyes to see the darkness around you. It was the only friend you had the last few hours. The tiny waves trying to lull you into a memories-filled sleep. The cold making it easier to let go. You have been tired for so long already. Tiny air bubbles escape and leave you behind.

The darkness lurks beneath you, but above the water surface shines a strange light. Is that the beacon of hope you were looking for the whole time? There are voices too, but you can’t understand what they are yelling. You are sinking further and further. Far away from the light.

Above the lonely water your team is looking for you desperately.

The thought sends a surge of energy through your body. As hard as you can you wave your arms and legs completely uncoordinated. Still the movement brings you closer to the surface. You can’t give up now. Not so close to them.

Your whole body is numb and hurts at the same time terribly. The ocean gives its best to keep you to itself. The cold clouds your mind. Are you paddling into the right direction? Are you going further down?

Then your arm breaks through the surface. But that’s all you had left in you.

Something grabs your hand so tight you almost screamed out loud because of the pain. Your head is still underwater. There is another tightness in your lungs screaming for just a tiny bit of fresh air.

Slowly you get dragged out of the darkness. Leaving the ocean behind. You take a gasping breath. The world outside the water is so overwhelming. The lights blind you for a moment. The loud noises roar in your ears. Pure chaos. For a moment you miss the calming darkness of the ocean.

A slight smile would appear on your lips as you see the faces of your teammates, but that’s too much for now. Gaz and Soap have their hands tightly on your arms, while Price and Ghost try to heave you into the helicopter by your tactical vest. All your gear got extremely heavy soaked with ocean water to the brim. You wish you could help them out, but you reached your limit of energy a long time ago. They lower you to the ground finally freed of the water.

“We got Phoenix. Go, Nik”, Price gives his order to Nicolai. Your favorite Russian pilot. Ghost and Soap try to get rid of your tactical vest together. Gaz stands ready with a blanket to warm you up. They keep talking to you, but you can’t quite follow their words. Your mind still frozen in place.

“Hey, hey. You broken?”, John puts his hand on your ice-cold cheek to get your attention. This time you can manage a weak smile, “Define broken, Captain.” He lets out a deep sigh full of worry but more than happy to hear your voice once again.

“Don’t ever do this again, muppet. You were out there the whole night. We- … We literally thought you were gone. Want to sit up?”, Price grabs your shoulder softly too scared to hurt you after what you went through. Ghost on the other side helps you too to sit up.

The sun starts to rise on the horizon bringing another day to this earth. Another day you are able to see. Another day to be alive.

“You damn lucky bastard. The endurance from your jogging probably saved your ass out there”, Simon can’t believe he gets another chance to see you again. It breaks his heart to see you beaten up and weak like this, but you are alive.

“What do we say to Death?”, Soap asks you grinning like always. “Not today”, you reply enjoying the little inside joke the two of you have.

Price puts his leg behind your back so you can relax yourself against him. Ghost rests his hand on your shoulder letting himself feel grateful to have you back. Soap sits next to you. Shoulder against shoulder. Just like out in the battlefield. Gaz holds one of your hands in his to get them back to normal temperature.

Your little family.

Lonely Water

Let us hold each other

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jishyucks · 5 months

Text

Candy Cane Delays — lmk

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, classmates au

‣ wc: 3k

‣ summary: Sure, it was disheartening seeing everyone receive a holiday candy gram but you, especially when you’re the one in charge of selling them at lunch. But don't worry, yours is on the way. He’s just… running a bit late.

‣ warnings: nothing i think,, reader’s kinda annoying about not getting a holiday candy gram but honestly same

‣ an: first part of my True Love Gave to Me Series YAY! Hopefully my writing’s good enough and this is somewhat cute bc I thought the idea was adorable,,, it honestly would’ve been longer and more detailed if I didn’t have 11 other mini fics to write but PLS ENJOYYY

Series Masterlist

Every year for the past 3 years, you've been in charge of selling the holiday candy grams for the winter dance.

And every year for those same 3 years, you’ve never, not even once, received a single candy gram.

Sure, your best friend Yeri always offered to get you one for fun, but you told her off, cause in your mind it didn’t count when they tell you they’ll be getting you one. You wanted to receive one the good ‘ol traditional way—you wanted to be surprised.

But whatever you wished, you never received.

And that was okay.

Because there came a point where you accepted the fact that you would probably never get one. It was a bit depressing (and maybe a tad embarrassing), but you simply chose to never get your hopes up every year just to be let down at the end. And though it was initially pretty easy ignoring this conclusion, it simply did not help that you were always put in charge of selling the damn grams.

Every lunch period, you sit behind a table, a poster board with the words ‘PURCHASE YOUR HOLIDAY CANDY GRAMS FOR WINTER DANCE HERE!’ taped at its edge. You wait for students to approach you with pocket money, then you slide them as many candy grams as they pay for. Once they’ve finished filling out the slips of paper, you take the sheets back and begin preparing them by taping candy canes the school bought from the local dollar store.

It was a routine you have gotten used to, and you don't expect to see any changes happening any time soon.

“Can I have three, please?”

You look up from your pile of candy canes to see your classmate, Jaemin, who’s blinking back at you with a wide smile. You nod and hold your hand out for him to drop his coins in. They land with a muted clunk noise before you drop them into the big metal bank you had pushed to the side.

“Here you go,” you grin back, sliding three slips of paper toward the boy. He thanks you before turning to a nearby table and you’re left to turn back to the unfinished candy grams sitting in front of you.

The time that lights up on the screen on your phone tells you that you need to start cleaning up soon so that you’re able to drop the candy grams off to the students distributing them for the day. Relief washes over you as you complete the remaining grams, just in time for Jaemin to return, gripping folded slips of paper in his fingers.

“Thank you,” Jaemin says, handing them to you, “I’ll see you in class, Y/N!”

“See you, Jaemin,” you reply. And you quickly finish the last three before you start cleaning up.

You place the empty candy grams on top of the earned money before locking the box. When you stand up, the chair makes an unpleasant noise against the floor and you cringe slightly. Rounding the table, you move the chair along with you, placing it on top and upside down for tomorrow’s use.

“Am I too late?”

Another person's sudden presence startles you, making you realize that you've been too absorbed in your tasks to notice the approaching footsteps.

You turn to friend and classmate, Mark, who’s out of breath and sweating from practically every gland of his body. He’s bent over with his hands on his knees and he’s trying to catch his breath. His glasses are slipping down the bridge of nose, but he quickly catches it with the tip of his index finger.

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “Ah, Mark… you’re late…” You pick up the bag of candy canes and sigh, “Again.”

A sense of déjà vu washes over you. This exact occurrence has been happening for a week straight now and you’re trying to figure out how Mark even manages to pull the same thing each day. It was actually kind of cute, if you had to admit just once, and you’re admittedly curious as to what’s causing him to pull up to the table 30 seconds late.

“I think my phone’s clock is three minutes too fast,” Mark frowns, eyes round as he brings his phone’s screen up to his face.

You start walking down the hall and toward Mrs. Kim’s room, where everything was kept between days, “You do know that the clocks on our phones can’t be early, right?”

Mark nods, though you don’t see. He’s still trailing right behind you, even into the classroom, “I know, but I just needed to blame something.”

You two approach a closet at the corner of the classroom and you use a key to open it up. You place the things inside, making sure it’s neat and tidy and somewhere slightly hidden in case students decide to break in. You don’t mind Mark seeing where you hide it, though. You trust him.

The boy gulps before he goes to ask you a question, “Hey, for the Winter Dance—”

“How were the sales today, Y/N?”

Mark is interrupted by Mrs. Kim, who’s returning from her own lunch break. She glances at Mark and greets him at the same time.

“I think today had the most sales so far,” you reply, “So it went well! Do you want me to leave the finished grams here? I already organized them by class.” Shutting the door, you lock the closet.

Mrs. Kim nods and makes room on her desk for the bag, “Yes please. Chenle and Jisung are coming in a bit to pick them up. Thanks for your help, Y/N.”

You bow your head and offer a smile before you turn to leave, Mark following not too far behind.

“What were you saying?” You look up at him, slowing your pace.

“Hm?” Mark’s head crooks to the side, “When?” Did he accidentally say something out loud?

“Before Mrs. Kim came in. You were saying something but I didn’t catch it.”

Mark’s heart skips a beat and his eyes widen. Lucky for him, you don’t notice, eyes dead set on your guys’ classroom, “Oh… uh–I forgot.” Mark knows damn well what he wanted to ask you. But the confidence he had built up at that moment dies along with his words and he figures that he’ll just try again another day. He tries his best to play it off, throwing in a sheepish laugh to spice it up, “But if it comes up again, I’ll make sure to say it.”

“You’re young and you’re already forgetful,” you joke, rolling your eyes playfully, “But okay, fine by me.” You turn to sit at your desk, seeing that Yeri’s already at her’s, but you stop yourself and turn back to Mark, “Are you going to be late tomorrow, again?”

Mark feels his cheeks heat up and his head lowers in embarrassment, “I’ll try not to.”

You let out a snort and nod, this time actually heading to your seat.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

When Chenle and Jisung come around to hand out the candy grams, students around you perk up in anticipation of receiving one. Yeri nudges your arm when the boys start passing them out, plopping the very same candy grams you finished at lunch.

“Brighten up, you might get one today,” she whispers. Her eyes follow Chenle, who’s approaching the both of you.

“I know I’m not getting one, Yers,” you shake your head, “I made them.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean you can’t get one,” she groans, “Maybe you’re not getting one because you’re being a Negative Nancy.”

“Please never say that again,” you narrow your eyes at her.

And when Chenle and Jisung start making their way toward the door and your desk is still empty, you turn to give Yeri a I told you so look.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Mark’s leg bounces out of anticipation as his eyes wander off to the clock hanging crookedly at the other corner of the room. He has 5 minutes to get up and leave and make it to the candy gram booth. But with the way Renjun was going on and on about an excerpt he had written for this week’s writing club meeting, Mark feels like he’s barely going to make it again.

For some reason, the hormones in his body are causing his heart to knock against his chest repeatedly. He can hear it pounding in his ears, practically drowning out Renjun’s voice.

Sure buying those candy grams didn’t seem like that big of a deal to anyone else in the group, but to Mark, it was part of a plan he’s had written down in the notes app of his phone since November—asking you out to the winter dance through a gram. Mark knows that he can’t trust himself when it comes to verbally asking you. So a candy gram should do it (yes, he’s aware that’s a little bit dumb but it’s the thought that counts).

The second that Renjun concludes his piece, Mark is up and out of the room, putting his chair in its rightful place behind a desk. He’s practically sprinting down the hall, slowing down into a walking pace when he passes by doors just so he wouldn’t be stopped and delayed for longer if a teacher had caught him running down the hall like some delinquent.

He can see the intersection of the hallway where you always set the table up and he books it, the single strap of his backpack hanging on for dear life.

“Am I late?”

Mark stands in front of you, hands on his knees and he’s panting. It was the same exact scene as yesterday. “Please tell me I’m not.”

You frown, glancing at the table you had just pushed up against the wall, “Sorry, Mark.”

He groans, “I need to start leaving earlier.” Mark begins to trail you from behind, feet heavy from missing the candy grams yet again.

“If it makes you feel any better, you have one more week,” you point out. Your arms wrap around the piggy bank and the coins jingle inside. Today was particularly more busy than the previous days. You question, “What do you even do over lunch?”

“I have clubs I go to,” Mark chews on his bottom lip, “It’s kind of stupid—”

“It’s not stupid if you enjoy it,” you shrug. He watches as you tuck the piggy bank and the extra candy canes at the back of the closet before shutting it, “And if you’re always running late you must actually enjoy them.”

“I guess so,” Mark says quietly. “I’ll come in time tomorrow.” He says this more for himself than for you.

You laugh, “We’ll see, Mark Lee.” Looking down at the bag of candy canes, you pull one out and hold it out to him, halting just outside of Mrs. Kim’s room, “I’ll give you one for free~”

Mark stops and blinks at the candy cane in your hand and he sighs. The candy canes weren’t even the reason why he desperately wanted to buy the grams. He can quite literally drop by the store on the way home and get a pack himself if he wanted.

Mark simply just wanted to get this plan done and over with. He wants to know if you’re going to reject him or if you’re going to say yes. But because this was being drawn out like some imperfect line across a ridiculously long page, he’s not going to know until he gets his hands on one of the candy grams.

But still, Mark lets himself smile at the gesture, hand grazing yours as he takes it, “Thanks, Y/N.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

For the next week, Mark (unsurprisingly) arrives late. He catches you either already cleaning the table up or already walking down to Mrs. Kim’s classroom to store the things. And everytime he does come late, Mark wants to beat himself up for it.

But on the last day, you’re caught by surprise when Mark approaches you in the middle of setting up the booth. For once he isn’t out of breath, and he’s not sweating and hunched over. It was a refreshing sight—amusing, even. The effort this boy was putting into holiday candy grams was endearing and you hope that the people he’s sending his grams to know it.

“First one here,” you giggle, “How many do you want?”

“Seven,” Mark shoots, “Please.”

“Seven’s a lot,” You nod, sliding the seven slips of paper before you retrieve the money from him, “Do you know what to do?”

“Um… just got a lot of people I care about,” Mark retorts. He grabs the slips of paper, a sigh of relief slipping out of his lips, “Thank you.”

Mark disappears for a good while, though you can see him bent over a table across the hall, scribbling into the blanks like he was supposed to. He looked rather focused, mouthing the small messages he’s leaving on the candy grams. A small part of you is nosy, wanting to know who he’s sending these candy grams to and what messages he’s writing so intently.

Once he’s finished, Mark returns to the table, placing the candy grams on the table in front of you, “Thanks, Y/N… I can’t talk right now—I do want to catch up with my club—but I’ll talk to you later?”

You smile gently, taking the filled out candy grams, “Of course. I’m just glad you were able to actually get these today.”

“Believe me, I am too,” Mark sends a warm smile before he bids you goodbye.

You huff and begin prepping the 7 candy canes for Mark’s seven candy grams. You go ahead and rip 7, inch-long, pieces of tape for each one and start your routine, taping each candy cane to each sheet of paper.

“Last one,” you mutter to yourself, taking the 7th candy cane between your fingertips.

When you go to grab the last slip of paper, you’re sent into a brief state of confusion when you don’t actually find a seventh slip. Your brows furrow and you let out an audible ‘huh?’ as you try to search your proximity for that last candy gram.

Did you miscount? Or did Mark just not use it? He could have gotten a refund if he wasn’t going to use it… Why didn’t he tell you anything?

After thinking hard on it, you let the problem go for now, making a small reminder to yourself to ask Mark about it later.

Chenle and Jisung come to your guys’ class just before the day ends and you would be lying if you said that you had just the slightest bit of hope that you’d receive one since it was the last day—cause surely, for the entire two weeks you’ve been out at lunch selling that damn things, you’d get one, right?

Sometimes, anticipation was a bitch. It was killing you watching Chenle and Jisung pull out each one from their shared bag, searching the room for the person receiving a damn gram before scurrying down the aisle of desks and plopping it down gently. With each one they would quietly say a ‘for you’ before turning back to the bag to grab the next one.

Hope was a bitch, too.

“Once again, sorry for interrupting,” Chenle apologizes to your teacher before dragging Jisung out of the room.

Just as they slip out of the classroom, the bell rings and you don’t find the energy to stand up just yet, eyes staring blankly at your empty desk.

“You should have just let me get you one, Y/N,” Yeri frowns, rubbing the middle of your back for comfort. She knows exactly how you’re feeling right now, “Want me to treat you to ice cream later? Bubble tea? Anything?”

You shake your head and try to prop a smile on your face, “No, it’s fine, Yers. I just thought that…” Mark. “Nevermind… Let’s just go.”

You finally push yourself up from your desk and grab your belongings. You leave the room in a hurry, Yeri struggling to keep up with your quick movements.

From afar, right by your locker, you spot Mark standing there patiently with his hands buried deep into his pockets. And with the boring class you had just had and not receiving a candy gram yet again, you almost forgot that you had to ask Mark about the 7th gram—better yet—he was probably at your locker to tell you about it.

“Mark,” you greet. Your fingers start fiddling with your lock as you absentmindedly put in your combination, “I wanted to talk to you about the candy grams.”

“I was actually here for the same reason.” There’s a tone in Mark’s voice that catches you off guard. There’s a slight hint of uneasiness, “Um… and…”

“And?” Now he’s caught your attention. You don’t realize that Yeri’s standing by her own locker, trying to subtly listen in on the conversation.

“Wait–uh–let me start with the candy gram first because then it can play out, I guess?” Mark shakes his head at how awkward he’s being before pulling out that 7th slip of paper from his pocket, “I…” He goes to read it, taking in a deep breath, eyes scanning it before he hurriedly sticks it out to you, “I was supposed to hand this in earlier at lunch but I figured that since you, you know, were the one doing the candy grams, I didn’t want you seeing it at such an awkward time?”

You’re frozen in place, gently taking the candy gram. With your heart skipping beats and the butterflies suddenly erupting in your stomach, your eyes bulge out of your eyes as you read your name on the sheet in Mark’s handwriting. This was a candy gram for you. To you, From Mark. Your first ever candy gram and it was from Mark.

Your attention flies straight to the note in the given space beneath the To and the From.

Your heart skips another beat.

Winter Dance with me?

“I-I’m sorry there’s no candy cane with it or anything and I don’t have any chocolates or some present to give you and this is such a lame way to ask you to the dance I meant it to be a bit more romantic than this but—”

You cut off Mark’s rambling, “Yes.”

“W-what?”

“Yes, I’ll go to the dance with you.”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @dinonuguaegi @niinjo (couldn't tag :(()

an: first part of my series YAY ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ meant to post it earlier but school and duties call rip,, i hope you enjoyed this! pls leave a like or rb if you enjoyed it and i wanna hear your thoughts on this;; it was the first one I wrote for this so I'm not sure if it's cute :( anyways THANKS FOR READING!

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sugarnspice630 · 18 days

Note

PLEASE im begging you can you please write mean dom!Seonghwa x sub fem!reader but the reader has daddy kink

Hi anon! Thank you so much for you request love! I am happy to write this for you. I hope you enjoy, and have fun!

•pairing: mean!dom!Seonghwa x fem!sub!reader

•word count: 2k

•tags: soft to mean dom Hwa, daddy kink (obviously), teasing, reader is very horny, hair pulling, leash tugging, collars, oral (m receiving), ass smacking, vibrator use (f receiving) ...did I miss anything? probably

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

“Seonghwa, I can’t help it! You have this control over me that no one else has, and my body craves you constantly!” You begged. You had been begging Seonghwa to help you out for hours now. You were horny all day, and you just had an itch that only Seonghwa’s dick inside you could satisfy. No toy you used on yourself today was cutting it.

“Oh really? You like me that much, huh?” He cooed as he placed his hand on top of your head. You couldn’t help but whimper at his touch. You wanted him badly. Your eyes began to haze over as your body turned itself on autopilot and went into a sexual daze. The look on your face was one of eternal bliss. Having Seonghwa just lightly touch you was driving you mad, but of course you wanted more. No matter how much you whimpered and moaned softly at his touches, he was not giving in to your plea. As a matter of fact, he enjoyed watching you struggle like this. It sent chills through his body to see you so down bad for him.

“I-I can’t help it.”

“I know you can’t~.” He taunts as he runs his hand down the side of your face and rests his fingers under your chin, lifting his finger up so you are forced to look up at his face. He stares into your eyes for a few seconds, and you can’t help but feel a pool of wetness begin to form in your panties. The forceful gaze in his eyes was enough to make you want to rip your clothes off right there and have him take his way with you.

“D-daddy~?” He hums in response to the nickname, still looking deep into your eyes. “I....I can't take this feeling anymore!”

“Well, I don't know~. I’m not sure how to help out my little whore~.” You had enough of his taunting and quickly grabbed onto the sleeves of his shirt.

“Please daddy! Do something!” You cried out and pouted. Desperation was flowing out of your voice.

“But it's so much fun seeing you like this~. So desperate for me.”

“I-I'll do anything~!” You whimper and grip tighter on his sleeves.

“Anything?”

“Y-Yes! A-anything! Whatever daddy wants!” He pauses on your words for a few seconds, delaying your so-sought-after release even longer while he thinks about what he should do.

"Well, what I want-.” He stops mid-sentence, grips the back of your head, and pushes you down to the ground. You fall to your knees with a whimper at his force. Lifting your head up by your hair, you see him lick his lips and teeth before pulling his face into a smirk. “-is for you to suck.” He uses his free hand to guide his belt off and pull his pants down just past his hips. You eagerly reach out to help him pull his underwear off so you can start pleasing him. You knew you were not going to get any special treatment if you didn’t please him first. He chuckles at your eagerness, excited to see you under his command, but he pulls you away from his crotch with the hand wrapped in your hair. You let your mouth hang open slightly and looked up at him, confused.

“Since you're gonna act like an obedient pet, I might as well do this.” He grabs your collar, which was adorned around your neck, to signify that you were his, and attaches a leather leash to the ring in the front. “Much better~.” He purrs out. He wraps the leash firmly in his hand and pulls you back towards him; now your face is just inches from his rock-hard cock. You whimper when he tugs on the leash as you fall forward a little bit, but your balance is good since you’ve had lots of practice being on your knees in front of him. You open your mouth and gently kitten lick his tip; he shudders in response to your action.

"Fuck, you’re so good for me.” You start to take more of him into your mouth, making sure to lick and please him just how he likes it. Seonghwa is letting out groans and huffs from above you, motivating you to make him feel good so you can get rewarded as well. Occasionally, he rocks his hips into your mouth, forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. Your eyes fill with tears as you gag slightly, but you don’t let it stop you. Suddenly, Seonghwa pulls you off of his cock. Confused, you let out a whimper at the lack of oral fixation in your mouth.

“After I lay down, get on the bed. Ass facing me and up in the air.”

“H-Hwa-.” You stutter out, your brain foggy from being thrown off course.

“I’m not asking you again.” He snarls as he tugs up on the leash, lifting your body up, and then drops the leash from his hand to make his way over to the bed. You nod softly with a small pout on your face. His demeanor changed so quickly, and you wonder what happened. You watched as he laid on the bed and patted his leg for you to come over to him. You got up onto the bed and crawled over to him, lining your body up right above where his cock was, then turning around so your ass was facing him and your mouth was aligned right near his member. Seonghwa grabbed onto your knees and pulled them closer to his body, causing you to fall forward closer to his dick, letting out a soft chuckle.

“You are going to finish me off while I play with you. Got it?”

“Y-yes daddy.” You feel a harsh smack on your bare cheek and whimper out.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Yes daddy!”

“Now back to sucking slut~.”

Seonghwa firmly smacked your ass again, making you let out a moan. You wasted no time getting back to business. As if you had no interruption in between, you slide all of him back in your mouth, not caring about your gag reflex or anything. He was still slick with the pre-cum you had spread around before moving locations. While you were sucking, you felt Seonghwa’s weight shift on the bed. That must mean he was leaning over to grab something. You continued to suck him off when a faint buzzing sound in your ear preceded a small “oops” from Seonghwa, and then the buzzing stopped. He had grabbed the vibrator that was next to the bed. It was your all-time favorite one to use. Your face flushed red, but you continued to do your job by bobbing your head back and forth. Seonghwa placed the toy against you and rubbed it along your slit, making sure you were indeed ready to take it inside you. Seonghwa turns on the vibrator, and immediately, you feel more motivated to suck him to completion. You moaned around his dick.

“You’re such a fucking whore.” Seonghwa says lowly as he feels your passion coming through. Grinding your hips up and down to get more pleasure from the vibrator. Seonghwa pushes it deeper into you, and you place your hands on the sides of his legs, allowing you to take him further down your throat. Your hands grip onto the bedsheet, and you moan around him again. Eyes filled with tears, but not a single sad thought running through your head. To change up the pace of things, you slide yourself off of Seonghwa and stick your tongue out to lick him from base to tip. Panting out as you do so due to the pressure in your stomach building up from your favorite toy.

“F-fuck~.” Seonghwa mutters out. You can’t see him, but you know he is tilting his head back in ecstasy cause you are making him feel so good. Seonghwa changes the speed on the vibrator to increase the vibrations, rubbing it up and down your pussy and, every once in a while, sliding the tip of the toy into your hole. Enough to tease you and drive you crazy.

“D-daddy~? I need you n-now~.” The desperation for his cock had been building up, and you figured if you begged nicely, you could get what you wanted.

“You’re gonna get what I give you, and that’s it. Don’t you dare ask me for things like that.” He says through gritted teeth. Fuck, guess you’re not getting anything. “But since you want to whore yourself out to me-.” He pauses his sentence as he takes the vibrator off of you and slides himself out from underneath you, forcing you back down on your hands and knees on the bed. He rips your panties off of you, and you feel the cool air blow across your soaked area. “I’m gonna be as rough with you as I want.” Seonghwa grabs the sides of your hips harshly and forces himself inside of you. “Fuck!” You moan loudly at the sudden intrusion.

"Mmm, that toy got you nice and ready for Daddy~.” He grips tighter onto your hips, his nails digging into your skin, definitely leaving marks.

“T-This was way before the toy d-daddy~.”

“Shut up.” He barks as he leans his body down and reaches out to grab the leash still wrapped around you. He wraps it around his hand again for a good grip and pulls it back toward him. The tightness of the collar pushing into your airway and choking you out just the slightest bit. You can feel him picking up speed as he continues to lean down against your back. The angle his dick is hitting you makes you feel so good.

“Mm fuck~ my little fucktoy feels great tonight~.” His free hand smacks the side of your ass, and he continues to pound into you. You can’t help but moan and whimper at the sensation. The tugging on the leash making you see faint stars in your vision. His hand leaves your hip and grabs the back of your head.

“Such a fucking slut~! Does this little bitch crave more~?” You nod your head softly and let out a closed-mouth moan. Seonghwa, with no hesitation, pushes your head into the bed, shoving your face down into the mattress. “You dirty fucking whore~. Taking pleasure from being a toy~.” He halts his thrusts. With the hand still on the back of your hair, he grips your hair, pulls your head up, and leans down to your ear as close as he can, whispering softly. “How pathetic~.” You wince at the lack of pleasure inside and from him pulling your hair.

“I-I am pathetic~.”

“Damn right you are~.” He continues his thrusts, pounding into you harder than before. You are nothing but a moaning mess. Such beautiful noises for Seonghwa, and only Seonghwa. “Mmm I fucking love those moans~.” He lets go of your head and brings that hand back to your side. Forcefully smacking your ass yet again.

“Mm~ y-yes~!” You moan out and then bite your lip.

"Fuck, you’re clenching around me slut.” Seonghwa tilts his head back and lets his mouth hang open. Letting out a couple groans. Your voice is practically gone from all the moaning you have been doing tonight. Seonghwa also fucked your throat raw not that long ago, so you were extremely sensitive.

“D-Daddy~!” Your voice comes in and out from a moan cutting in between.

“W-whore~!” He mocks your plea from earlier. You felt the knot inside you tighten, but you dared not to cum before Seonghwa.

“I-I can feel myself getting close b-but~ ah~ I-I'm not stopping~! J-just keep going till you c-cum.”

“Good fucking girl, letting me use you for my pleasure.” Those were the last words you heard before your brain shut off and you just let Seonghwa continue to use you for the rest of the night.

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @xuchiya @yeosangsbbg @sanipan @10nantscompanion @sanspuppet@myloveforyunho@sugawara-levi

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slashersgostabbystabstab · 8 months

Text

Impulses

[MALE] Xenomorph x Reader

There are many benefits to being a science officer

Update: If you like this fic, make sure you read the other one I wrote! It's a NSFW fic with this same Xenomorph character~

This is my first fic ever for the Xenomorph, and it's a rather lengthy one that I hope to write at least another part for. Just some info: I understand that there's a gray area in which the Xenomorph lands so the one I have written here is one that is a man-made hybrid creation. It still very much looks like a Xenomorph but it's changed up a bit. I think the fic describes a bit more in detail.

Sorry if it sucks, I got very much into detail after doing so much Alien lore research and this doesn't even seem like an x reader, I also apologize if it's shit, I am so desperate to post this that I just didn't even bother to revise it. I'll do it tomorrow 'cause it's late right now lol ;7; Feels like I'm writing the next Alien movie lmao

Warnings: Mention of death/corpses. Some violence (ya know, the movies are action packed with the marine corps and such). Not sure what else to mark but please do message me if you feel I should add something

Words: 7,145

Being the Demeter’s science officer had its perks, but it unfortunately also came with its share of detriments such as any other job did. But then again, your particular career choice had its own kind of drawbacks that would make the average person not take the position. Sure most science officer positions didn’t come with so many risks, but being the science officer for THIS ship’s crew was a whole other experience.

Coming onto the crew it was made clear what you were to expect. It was made clear what conditions you would be made to work under, and you somehow still decided this was the path for you. It was made clear that your crew’s purpose was a mission only a specific bunch of associates was picked.

On planet 212, also known as Gethov, there was tale of an overly faithful group of persons. Or without the polite sugar coating provided: your crew was meant to investigate what it could of the possible cult that inhabited the planet. And after spending more than enough time camping out on the planet, it was quite obviously not a possibility but the fact that there indeed was a cult deep within the planet.

But this was in no way no ordinary cult, whatever the hell that meant, this group of pious persons devoted themselves to the very thing that threatened the human race as well as others.

These crazy bastards worshiped Xenomorphs.

They worshiped every kind of Xeno, every shape and form of theirs; even the man-made ones. They venerated the creatures so much that, based on your gained knowledge, they made it their goal to bring life to as many Xenomorphs as they could.

Xenomorphs were believed to have been completely eradicated, even after the mess created by the Weyland-Yutani corporation’s greed. Thankfully they went under great scrutiny in the 90’s before being completely outlawed in 2349 along with numerous other corps. But even things like that weren’t going to stop at least one bastard from starting the whole process again.

Mother’s Order of Propagation. That was the name of the cult created by Charles Lincoln, former executive officer who was so dedicated to helping Xenomorphs reproduce that he, not only groomed his science officer into joining, but he went as far as making recruits “a part of the hive”. One could not easily integrate themselves into the hive, not unless they were covered in Xenomorph pheromones or…implanted themselves with chestbursters.

And that was exactly what the order did. It wasn’t the first time such a phenomenon was heard of, other cults having done what was a delayed gestation in which they could hold the parasite for a longer period. Not only were they able to blend in easier with the Xenomorphs, but they were able to live long enough to take victims of their own to aid in Xenomorph breeding.

Which led to the current position you found yourself in.

You had decided to step out of the base for just a moment, merely wanting to gather a sample of Xenomorph resin one of your crewmates mentioned to you earlier that day. It would be quick, even if it was from a distance from the base. But when you spotted what could have been some other person not a part of your crew and actually one of the cult members, your black out was no doubt quick.

It was uncertain just what the devotees did to knock you out, everything had happened too fast for you to process just how many of these people had even come to find you. There was an intense throbbing in your head the moment you finally awoke, that possibly a hint as to what they did. Your eyes initially shut tightly before they opened to a blurred sight in front of you, the darkness shrouding you not providing the slightest bit of help. However, there appeared to be a sufficient amount of illumination coming from the work lights you spotted strategically scattered around the area you found yourself in.

“Finally awake.” a man spoke to you, his voice somewhat familiar as you realized just how you were currently positioned him. “Didn’t think you’d wake up again. Not like that entirely matters.”

“This is one Kingston wants alive.” a different man stated while you lifted your head as best as you could, feeling as each man had an arm under yours to drag you behind them. Your boots dragged along the murky ground, leaving lines dunked into it before a noise caught your attention. But soon your boots were accompanied by those belonging to others, all in similar positions as you. The difference being that all of these people were already deceased.

“Where the hell am I?” you bared your teeth at the men who didn’t even bother to give you a response. However, your much needed answer seemed to come soon as you took in your surroundings.

Your eyes soon widened at the countless amount of corpses before you turned your head to the side: no matter where you looked, there were cadavers everywhere, and they were unfortunately accompanied by other bodies. These bodies, unlike them, were well and alive. Healthy and strong. Bloodthirsty.

“Don’t mind them, they’re just making sure something good was brought in.” The first man mocked reassurance, looking behind himself to smile in your direction before he returned his gaze to the front as more of these bodies appeared.

The bodies of Xenomorph, full fleshed out creatures who observed you from a distance. You could barely make up the shapes of their bodies, but you knew they were there: patiently waiting for some order. All around you you were able to hear hisses with slight shrieks mixed in every now and then, almost as if what resided in the darkness watched you and communicated. In all the time you investigated what went on with this cult, you would have never imagined such a number of Xenomorphs.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” the other member questioned as he gazed around the hive, practically grinning in awe at the fruits of the cult’s labor. “These beauties never cease to amaze me.

You made a face at his words before attempting to rip your arm away from him, but his grip on your suddenly grew tight and even somewhat painful.

“Nice try.”

A low groan rumbled in your throat at your poor attempt, allowing the men to continue dragging you. You didn’t want to give up just yet, but your only choice at the moment was to unfortunately go along with whatever these demented assholes had in store for you. Based on the bodies that the drones explored all over, it was already clear what they were planning to do with you.

Soon enough however, the men came to an abrupt stop that prompted you to look up at them. They stood still, frozen almost, merely staring up ahead of them before the reason came to mind. From in front of them you could already hear a specific kind of hiss that accompanied a trail of light yet still audible footsteps. A hiss was then heard, right before the footsteps came to your front where you were now being interrogated.

Before you stood a typical drone, a tad bit nosier than the rest of the hive who continued on with their business despite having caught sight of their new victim. The drone was nothing short from menacing as you watched it cock its head to the side to properly examine you. The situation became all the more appalling when the alien hunched its figure down to your face. Its silver teeth clenched in your face with a threatening hiss as it hovered mere inches from your nose, right before it dashed away from your location in an instant as if satisfied with what was brought in. A wave of relief overcame as you were spared for just a few moments longer, but as if one cue, a new kind of danger was presented soon after the Xenomorph’s departure.

“Took the two of you long enough.” you now heard a third voice before the men harshly dropped you to the ground, and you landed on your back before you looked up to see a new pair of legs. Their owner surveyed you with his aged and tired eyes, right before you were given a soft smile from the man. “Welcome to our humble abode.”

You realized who this man was, Joseph Kingston: the science officer who followed right behind Lincoln. He knew of you just as you knew about him, but this was the first time either of you had actually come face to face after numerous battles concerning your shared field. You were each a threat to each other, a fact both of you acknowledged.

Immediately, you made another attempt at escaping. You jumped to your feet as quickly as you could, shoving the lackeys away from you while racing through the resin covered hive. But in spite of that, your adrenaline-filled efforts soon came to an end when you skid to a stop the moment something jumped in front of you. You once again found yourself on your back, flinching at the sight of a new Xenomorph that pounced right in front of you.

You brought your hands up to your face to defend yourself from the creature that snarled rather loudly as it leaned down towards you. The alien opened its mouth to reveal its inner jaw, ready to strike you right through the head, but it retrieved its second mouth the moment a thunderous cry throughout the hive.

The Xenomorph momentarily turned its attention away from you, eventually returning it to give you one last hiss before scampering away along with some of the other drones who paid no mind to you. Many of these creatures ran by you and the trio of men who considered following them after hearing what you knew was the call from a higher-ranking Xenomorph, but they decided to stay in place when they were reminded of your presence.

“To the royal chamber.”

“The royal chamber?” one of the minions blinked at the scientist who broke the silence between you all, right after he and the other man made sure to restrain you yet again. “A-Are you sure?”

“You bastards! What the hell do you want from me!?” you yelled while attempting to kick your way out of their grasp. “Let me go!”

“I think our little scientist here is eager to learn more about our creations.” Kingston spoke before turning on his heel, having the men follow behind him as you continued to struggle again. Though, one of the men made sure to give you a good kick to the leg to ease you down. “I know how much you’ve researched my Xenomorphs, and I just think it’d be fun to give you some hands-on experience. Like a real science officer.

You winced at your newfound pain as you were dragged through the seemingly empty hive, giving a quiet moan before you finally came across another human. Not like that exactly mattered considering how it was just another one of these cultists who beamed at your presence.

“Tell Lincoln we’re taking this one to the royal chamber.”

“I think he’ll be very pleased to hear you’ve finally acquired the Demeter’s science officer.” the other member crooked her head at you, making sure to look your form up and down. So they had been wanting to get you for a while now…that Xenomorph resin your crewmate came across may have just been some kind of bait. “It’s invigorating to see that our mission is coming to full fruition.”

Before you could get any words out, the pair of men shoved and forced you as Kingston resumed his walking through the hive as if it were any ship. Although the scientist eventually did turn his attention back to you, grinning at you with complete pride.

“What are you planning Kingston?” you directed a glare his way, and you realized the enthusiasm he attempted to contain at your question. “What do you need me for?”

“Well you see, we don’t necessarily need you. Any body will do perfectly fine, but we thought it best that the body belong to the one person who’s been pointing out all of our weaknesses. It’s easier to produce more Xenomorphs when there isn’t some other scientist disrupting every one of me and Lincoln’s plans.” Kingston replied before returning his attention to the front.

“So you brought me all the way to your hive just to have one of your creatures kill me?” you spat out before receiving another shove from the men holding you. “That seems almost useless. My crew isn’t stupid enough to come crashing into a place like this just to get their science officer.”

“Your crew is a matter for a different time.” he stated, now standing before an entrance that he opened by dialing a code into the number pad. “We just need a fellow scientist to support our cause.”

“And what exactly is that?” you questioned, but you were soon interrupted by the familiar sounds of Xenomorphs hissing. This time around though, one of the Xenomorphs’ noises stood out from the rest who decided to remain hidden.

You felt the sudden need to hold your breath the moment a stomping was heard just outside the corridor you were currently in. Even the men with you couldn’t help but take a moment to themselves, their hands gripping you tighter as if to conceal the slight apprehension overcoming them. Although these guys were committed to their so-called cause, they were quite conspicuous with their terror: but weren’t most religious zealots the type to fear their own gods?

The stomping, although slow-moving proved to arrive fast, and the figure cast by their creator came soon, approaching from the deeper end of the hallway. It was clear that this silhouette was immense, belonging to something sizeable that eventually stepped into the light with one of its feet before the second followed. And after its legs came the torso and the rest of its body, displayed and almost glistening under the work lights that illuminated it.

“Holy shit,” you finally remembered to breathe, backing up in the only way you could before the men holding you gave in and followed your actions.

“Specimen number 7.” Kingston’s voice proudly declared before he stepped in front of you and the men. “I’m delighted that he’s decided to make an appearance.”

“He?”

“Yes, he.” he reiterated, standing tall in front of the Xenomorph who stopped in its tracks to look down at the scientist, no doubt immediately recognizing him as one of its own. “Number 7 is my finest creation, a male Praetorian who has taken charge of the hive after our queen’s unfortunate demise. Until we create her replacement, he has self-proclaimed himself the temporary leader. Nobody seemed to have any dispute against it.”

Kingston turned away from the Xenomorph along with the alien who made sure to flash its teeth to you; this was yet another one of its features that you quickly realized did not belong to the typical Praetorian. Putting aside the topic of its sex, this one lacked the metallic-colored teeth all Xenomorphs had. Its head crest, although not so different from the female royal guards', seemed to have its own quicks, perhaps even larger. And its color wasn’t the typical jet-black, but it instead had a midnight blue kind of black to it. While female Praetorians stood at at least 10 feet, this one was slightly shorter than that height; as if it even made a difference.

“What’s the point in making a male specimen when Xenomorphs have always been a female-based species?” you spat out before the alien took a step towards you, a successful attempt to intimidate you as Kingston chuckled at the sight. “How…how did you even tame it?”

“I didn’t tame Seven,” Kingston made sure to make the statement as the alien peered down at him, well aware of what the man spoke. “Considering how Xenomorphs went into extinction, save for the embryos we were able to salvage, we had to fill in certain gaps at times. This guard is somewhat of a hybrid, containing human DNA in his genetics to better bond with…me. All of us members of the order. And since the Xenomorph’s genetics have been altered and controlled by me, I was able to design a male. I’m sure you know how biology works.”

Kingston made sure to lean towards you after stepping away from the Xenomorph, giving you another one of his sinister smiles.

“Although hermaphroditic, we must ensure our Xenomorphs can reproduce with each other if another corporation or the government attempts to eradicate what we’ve worked so hard to make.” he disclosed before facing the alien one more time. “Now imagine the wonders Seven could perform if we were to give him a queen that won’t die out as easily as our last one. That poor girl…like most women, she just wasn’t the type to listen. Too resistant. Too many casualties thanks to her resistance.”

“You killed your own queen?”

“She belonged dead. This hive has no place for a queen that will turn the others against us.”Kingston posited in a much darker tone. “Which is where you come in.”

“W-What?”

“Killing you off is too simple, as is implanting a typical chestburster.” you watched the man step away from you and into the chamber meant for your end. The two men holding you intended on taking you inside with Kingston, but the Praetorian stepped once again to stop them in their tracks.

The Xenomorph hunched its towering form to take a better look at your face, giving some kind of a trill before it backed away from you.

“It seems, Seven approves of our choice.” you heard Kingston speak from the room. “Come inside.”

“No!” you exclaimed as you began to kick around again. “Let me go, you sick fucks! Let me go!”

The Praetorian watched as you were led to your doom, eventually making its way back into the corridor as you continued to shout for your release.

“I thought you’d be more ecstatic to indulge in this, seeing how much you enjoy studying our Xenos.” Kingston gave a small laugh as you saw him wearing thich gloves, these with the intention to hold a monstrosity smaller than the drones. In his hands he tightly held a facehugger, but not an ordinary one. “Seven and Lincoln are more than happy to have you as the royal host.”

“Get that thing away from me!”

“Shhh, you wouldn’t want to wake the baby.” he teased while drawing the alien closer to your face. “Here, no one can hear you scream.”

Horror filled your body at the sight of the royal facehugger that spread its webbed digits as it readied itself for your face. You struggled against the grip of the men who were careful enough to keep their heads away from yours, and this ultimately gave you your last chance.

Despite the men’s restraints having become somewhat loose, they restrained you tight enough to give you the right stability that allowed you to kick your leg forwards. In the adrenaline-filled moment, you were able to kick high enough to rip the chestburster out of Kingston’s hands, sending it flying across the room much to the men’s shock.

While the lackeys gasped dumbfounded at the flying facehugger, you ripped your arm out from one of them to give him a good elbow to the face. The man immediately dropped down as you proceeded to repeat your actions on the second man, sending him to his back while Kingston boiled with a newfound anger.

“You, good-for-nothing scoundrel!” he seethed from his spot before turning his attention to his men. “Get the facehugger! Ensure she’s alright!”

You looked around the area, considering escaping through the doorway like a sensible person would, but for a moment you considered that running through a hive full of xenomorph drones was not the wisest of choices. On the slick and damp ground, the royal facehugger seemed to notice you after the lackeys backed away so as to not get infested, and you reacted fast.

From your suit’s pocket you pulled out a screwdriver you always kept on your person, managing to strike the facehugger as it jumped in your direction.The screwdriver stabbed smack-down in the middle of its slit where its longer organ would have unveiled itself, and this singular stab was more than enough to have it fall limp much to Kingston’s dismay.

“No! No, no, no!” he cried out, the calm demeanor from before having completely disappeared as he was filled with an intense fury.

Not wanting to deal with him any longer, you scurried out of the doorway despite not knowing what your next plan of action was. All you could do was run, run as fast and quietly as your body allowed you to.

All around you you once again heard the Xenomorphs communicate amongst you while Kingston yelled from behind, even going as far as calling out to his pet. Realizing the danger this posed, you ran into a nearby chamber you hoped they would not suspect.

You weren’t sure just how you managed to hide yourself as well as you did, but it seemed to be effective with the way in which the Xenomorph drones avoided the room you were in. Perhaps in the process of creating these creatures, they unintentionally made them less functional than their natural counterparts. No matter, you took the opportunity to make yourself at home deeper in the chamber as you realized it wasn’t a den but…more of a storage room. It really was shocking to see how much these Xenomorphs allowed the cult to integrate themselves within the hive.

Turning away from the open entrance, you took notice of the resin-covered furniture inside the room that seemed to keep items of importance inside. This room in particular seemed to be a bit more secluded, perhaps another reason for the drones not bothering to come.

You immediately began to look through the drawers and cabinets, unfortunately not finding very much other than some work tools, desk supplies and containers. Honestly, the best you could work with were the tools which even then were useless against Xenomorphs, the most you could defend yourself from were face huggers. Supplies like pens and clipboards weren’t going to do much either, and these containers…

Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the jars, actually piquing your interest to see what was behind the cylinder glass. You rotated the canister in every possible angle to figure out its contents, and you were finally able to find a label with what you knew was Kingston’s handwriting.

“Royal jelly,” you mumbled, a sudden realization hitting you. “Holy shit.”

Somehow, someway…this was going to be your leverage against the cult members, at least them. At least against Kingston, for you knew the value this substance held. And it didn’t surprise you that most of the room was filled with these cylinders, which were immediately pulled out by you and dropped to the ground before you took a maintenance jack from the drawers to smash the glass.

Royal jelly was the key ingredient used when producing Xeno-Zip, a powerful drug that could enhance one’s body while tearing apart their mind. And if the order was in possession of such quantities, no doubt having collected it from their latest queen, you knew they weren’t going to use it to make drugs. Their intentions were clearly to enhance their creations’ performance, or even ingest it raw themselves. Hell, they might have already done that considering how long some of these members survived with a chestburster residing in their bodies.

You then proceeded to smash another one of the containers, and you continued to do so until there were less than ten left. One would consider the destruction a waste of time, but you knew it was needed to prevent more of this cult’s progression as well as be ready when somebody eventually found you.

And that they did soon enough, for while you attempted to destroy another one of the containers, you heard a familiar thundering of footsteps as a hand grasped onto your wrist.

“Don’t you dare!” came Kingston’s voice before he threw you to the side, enraged at your actions from the moment you kicked his facehugger. “You bastard! Hellion! Do you realize what you’re doing!?”

“Of course I do!” you recovered quickly before reaching out to a nearby cylinder, but the man dared to step on your open hand as harshly as he could which caused you to cry out in pain. Before he had any time to react, you took a pen from your suit’s pocket to stab him right in the leg.

Now it was his turn to wail, falling onto his bottom before his creation from before appeared in the doorway with a full-blown roar. Perhaps the Praetorian didn’t care much for the jelly like Kingston and his members did, but you still took the opportunity to take what you could of the containers despite your aching hand.

“Let me get out! Or I’ll break what’s left of these!” you threatened while holding one of the jars above your head.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Let. Me. Out.”

Kingston could only glare at you from the ground as his alien awaited an order from behind him, snarling while drool dripped from its teeth.

“Seven,” he began before groaning at the pain your pen in his leg caused, soon pulling the item from him to spew out a mixture of blood and ink. “I believe it’s about time we terminate the science officer.”

Your eyes widened at his words, somehow appalled by his command. So before the Xenomorph could properly process the doctor, you launched the jar in your hand at its head. And soon enough, you watched as it stood in place, practically seething like the doctor was earlier.

That…that honestly may not have been the smartest choice.

“You-!” Kingston began once again, but he was interrupted by the sound of his alien roaring yet again.

Instinctively, you threw another jar at the Xenomoprh before it exploded just like the last one, coating its head crest in the fluids while some dripped down its face. You hurled another one, astonished when the Xenomorph skillfully moved its head to avoid this attack which caused you to drop the other containers from your arms, ignoring the anguished scream from Kingston.

With nothing else able to save you from the Xenomorph’s clutches, you backed up as far as you could, until your boot came into contact with some of the jelly from a jar you had previously broken. In an instant, you slipped and found yourself on the ground near the man who attempted to crawl at you while your heard screeches from outside the chamber. The room was soon filled with drones who stood by the Praetorian, awaiting any form of instruction as they watched you and the man struggle.

“You…you ruined EVERYTHING!” Kingston yelled before throwing himself at you, and you immediately attempted to wrestle him off while all the Xenomorphs watched.”Seven! Kill! Terminate! End it!”

Kingston had gone mad to the point of trying to clench at your throat with his bloody hands, waiting for the aliens to help him out in finishing you off. But he and you soon came to realize none of them bothered to move an inch, not until the Praetorian gave the order. An order that never came.

Instead, while still fighting off Kingston, you noticed as the alien grit its teeth with a growl before turning to the drones. A command was soon given. And it was not the command Kingston desired.

“What are you doing!?” he shouted at the Xenomorph who roared and trilled before the drones began to step backwards. They were quite hesitant about it, but they listened to the Praetorian before turning and jumping on all fours, soon scurrying away to leave the three of you alone. “Seven! What the hell are you doing!?”

The Praetorian now made its way to you and Kingston who paused his actions, turning to look at the alien who leaned down with a shriek.

You covered your ears at the volume before the Xenomorph finally grit its fangs again, no doubt having given Kingston a warning.

“Seven! Why-?”

Once again, the Praetorian gave a roar as well as stomp of its foot. It wanted you alone. Oh shit. You were pretty sure at this point the alien found every single one of your actions personal and was not going to allow Kingston to finish you off.

The alien warned Kingston with one last threatening stomp, and the message finally seemed to get through to the man’s thick skull.

You felt Kingston release you before crawling off of your body, his eyes never tearing away from the Xenomorph who made sure to give a hiss.

The man shot you one last glare before he too raced out of the room. The bastard was smart enough to make sure to shut the door with a code, as if you had any form of escape against a monster such as this one.

Once again, you backed away as fast as your hands allowed you while you slid across the scattered royal jelly. The alien observed you as you managed to get up onto your feet, trembling while reaching out to the countertops where you tried to find some kind of a tool you knew would do nothing to the Xenomorph. It turned away for a moment to examine the chamber, its attention on the jelly staining the ground.

Your hands found a wrench that you instantly brought up and held in front of you, ignoring the intense shaking from your hands. The Praetorian immediately snapped its head in your direction, at least as fast as its large head crest would allow. Its maw practically pointed at your form, tightly clenching the teeth inside as an audible hiss sounded from behind the row of fangs. Although the alien lacked any discernible eyes and brow bones to distinguish any sort of expression, it was apparent the way in which it peered at you.

It used one of its claws to swing at the wrench you held, and your weapon soon went flying to the side where you dashed to. But the alien followed with a roar, forcing you to face it once again.

Your much smaller form shook at the sight of it, clearly now its center of attention while you cautiously attempted to step away from the alien. However, you soon enough found it making its way towards you, every step it took having a detectable stomp come with it. Every step it took sounded with obvious suspicion as it titled its head to the side, never ceasing its scanning of your shape.

You continued your backing up, your hands eventually finding their palms against the mucky surface of the hive’s walls. Ignoring the slimy sensation, you soon pressed your back against the wall before your head followed suit. But you then turned your head to the right, eyeing the Xenomorph with a side eye. A slight whimper tried escaping your lips, managing to cause a rumble in your throat as your eye found the alien muh closer than before.

The Praetorian’s mouth released a breathy growl as you immediately looked away from it, shutting your eyes the moment you felt the cold from its body practically radiate on your skin. At this point you learned the bigger a Xeno was, the colder their clammy body would be.

Tightly shutting your lips prompted your nose to breathe intensely, this almost alluring the alien further as it brought its face close to your cheek.

Its breaths were felt against your skin, these somehow warmer than the rest of the creature who took notice of your own heat. Its maw finally pressed against your skin, olfactory senses sniffing you out before you felt a thick substance fall on your head until it slid down to your face.

Finally you opened your eyes, watching the Xenomorph continue to examine your face. While you realized what was on you was the jelly from before. The alien’s jaw smeared it all over your cheek with every sniff it gave you, more of the jelly dripping from its head every now and then.

Praetorians like any other Xenomorph possessed inner jaws, but this one…it was even cleared that it was not a naturally born specimen based on what came from inside its mouth. From in between its teeth slithered out a tongue, warm and slick as it licked the juices off of your cheek ever so delicately. It took a moment as it retrieved its tongue, tasting the jelly on its organ before its throat rumbled with some kind of snarl.

You took the chance to turn your head towards the Praetorian, surveying the alien’s features before it also stared down at you head on. You caught sight of a drooling that fell from its teeth, pooling beside your boots as you found a way to press yourself further into the wall behind you while the Xenomorph pressed its mouth against your face once again. Its minacious claws were brought up to your sides, and you winced at the touch before the alien snapped its teeth at you. Yet again you stood still while the creature appeared to have relaxed, resuming its actions as it snaked its enormous claws behind your body. You felt yourself being pulled away from the wall in an almost tender way, your body nearly pressed against the Xenomorph’s hunched one as your arms disconnected from the wall as well.

It craned its head at you once again, giving a coo-like trill while you held your arms close to your chest so as to not touch the alien in any way. However, this prompted the Xeno to finally hold you close against it, almost as if it wanted to feel the rapid beating of your poor heart against its mesoskeleton. Once again it let its tongue slither out, licking the features of your skin as you gave a wince and shut your eyes for just a moment.

The moment it stopped with its actions, you gave it one more look. It gave you another trill, awaiting any kind of reaction from you with anticipation. For some strange, enticing reason…you felt compelled to bring one of your hands away from your body, hesitantly lifting it before deciding to cautiously place it on top of the Xeno’s head.

You ran your fingers over the smooth surface of the alien’s head before finally reaching the more ribbed parts of its crest, hearing a purr-like sound coming from its throat. And somehow, you felt a smile creep up onto your lips as you admired the Xenomorph’s newfound amiability while a euphoric sensation overcame you.

Your fingers found some of the jelly that still stained the alien’s head, and you retrieved your hand to properly study it as it coated most of your palm. Before you could look any further though, the Xenomorph’s tongue instantly licked it clean off of your hand. The second it finished doing that, you felt the alien begin to nuzzle against your face as more pleased trills escaped it.

Royal jelly was a crucial substance to Xenomorphs, but it made you wonder just what kind of effects it had on man-made ones who were also depicted with a more male design. The jelly was a substance used to make Praetorians from drones, and Queens from Praetorians, lest the Queen chose to simply strengthen her royal guards. From what you had heard, the Xenomorphs were usually affected in seconds, and this Praetorian did not seem to have changed in one bit. Perhaps that was because of its male sex.

Meanwhile, the effect it had on humans…

Whilst you were deep in thought, the Praetorian stood erect to its full height the second it detected some kind of sound outside of the chamber you were in. You snapped out of the wonder and daze you momentarily felt, remembering just how tall the alien was compared to you.

From outside the area your ears caught the sounds of gunshots, yells, and even a sudden explosion. It was so instant that it made you snap back to your senses, but not enough to have you back away from the Praetorian who actually released you that very moment.

The alien whipped around as fast it could while being careful to avoid you with its tail, instead bringing it to its front as it snarled at the locked door that concealed the both of you. It sensed intruders in the hive, able to tell that its drones and the cult members were no doubt under attack. But by what?

Almost as if on cue, that question was answered when a boom practically pounded on the door, shaking it enough for it to create a clear dent in the thick metal.

“Again!”

Another boom sounded before a large hole bursted through the door. This prompted the Praetorian to roar at the presence of the intruders who blasted at the door one last time, finally bringing it down before a group of men stepped in.

Marine corps! You honestly couldn’t believe it.

“Doctor! We’re here for you!” the leader of the group announced before a second man stepped in front of him. “Cover your ears!”

You immediately did as instructed, cowering down the instant you noticed the Praetorian rush at the marines. At that moment, a horrendously loud boom was heard in the chamber. However, considering the weapon’s design, the sound was specifically transmitted as a directional beam shot specifically at the Xenomorph who gave a shriek the second the sound hit it.

“Doctor, this way!” the first man motioned towards him, ignoring the completely disabled Xenomorph who seemed to writhe in pain. You couldn’t help but give it one last glance before the man called to your attention again. “Doctor!”

Turning away from the Praetorian, you hurried towards the man whose hand you accepted in that moment. However, you decided to spare the alien one last glance, watching as it slightly recovered enough to lock gaze with you. You paused, watching as the Xenomorph reached a claw out to you, right before it was hit with another ultrasound beam that prevented it from standing up.

“Doctor, let’s go!” the leader of the troop yelled before turning to his marines. “Make sure that thing stays down, don’t waste ammo on it! We’ll come back to kill it some other time!”

“Did my crew send for you!?”

“That they did! Sergeant Newton at your service doc.” the man spoke as he led you through the hive’s corridors you had found yourself in earlier. “We found you with that tracker of yours, made navigating this shithole easier.”

“I’m glad.” you responded as the man held you close when your running was momentarily stopped to avoid incoming drones. It was at this moment that you took notice of the new corpses that adorned the hive, corpses belonging to the cult members that had not appeared to you before. “You killed them!?”

“Unfortunately had to, they fired first and were commanding the Xenos to attack us. I don’t understand these crazy bastards.” Newton claimed before he resumed his running and gingerly pulled you along. “That seemed to confuse the Xenos for some moments, they can’t work without someone telling them what to do. Which brings me to ask, what was that Praetorian doing with you?”

“I-I don’t-” you began to stutter, but your words were interrupted by a sudden roar that was followed by shrieks that were clearly replies. “The Praetorian! It’s telling them what to do!”

The corridor you and the sergeant were in soon ended as the two of you found yourselves in the openness of the main hive room, the walls filled with crawling drones who had a sole purpose. Thankfully though, the sergeant’s troop soon accompanied him with the necessary weaponry that kept many of the aliens away.

“You won’t be able to take them all! We need to get out!”

“On it.” Newton replied before giving the order to the marines who began to let loose on the Xenomorphs, nobody exactly noticing that their sole purpose…involved you. Nobody except the sergeant who realized that the aliens only attacked those guarding you when they protectively surrounded you. “Keep them at bay, I’ll take the doctor to safety!”

You heard the man’s words in between the sounds of gunfire and turrets shooting continuous flames at the aliens, and you didn’t spare a moment in following Newton when he began to escort you to where he knew the exit was nearby.

“Doctor, go!” he shouted once the Xenomorphs turned their attention to your form, ignoring the troop who immediately grew confused. It was then that you realized why he directed you to leave without him: the Praetorian was already making its way through the hive’s remains, fully intending on getting you.

“Go, go, go!”

Without looking back, you ran through the wet floor of the hive as you felt Xenomorphs quickly approaching you. Praetorians never left the hive, they were the queen’s guards, so all you had to do was reach that damn exit. And that your eyes found soon enough, a light at the end of a tunnel where you heard voices shout at you.

The beating of your heart pounded against your chest and even rang in your ears as you felt yourself running out of breath, having to catch yourself from falling every now and then. At the same time, you could hear the trills and screeches and roars from the Xenomorphs not too far behind, the pounding of the Praetorian’s feet so close.

One last time did you look behind you, watching as the alien reached out to you before you felt yourself be tugged out of the cave. The screeching of aliens sounded right after flames shot out at the hive, forcing them all to retreat behind the Praetorian who you could tell was considering escaping running through the fire.

But the troops that now guarded you did not allow it, firing their weapons while one of the marines stole you away from the hive. You heard the alien screech at your absence while its drones returned to the hive, no doubt to rid of the troop still inside, and as you were taken away…the world suddenly grew quiet as you no longer paid any mind to the hive.

#xenomorph x reader #xenomorph #alien #aliens #alien vs predator #this xeno is specifically movie based but i'll still mark it as this for future stuff:#dbd xenomorph #specimen seven

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mountttmase · 1 year

Text

I’ll Fix This

Note - I’m back baby 😉 dad Mase won the poll so I hope you enjoy. Feedback would be appreciated as usual 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 3.7k

Warnings - sort of angst? And fluff

‘Daddddyyyyy’ Ollie screamed, running towards the front door from the kitchen and you let him go, finally taking a breath as you were left alone with the chaos of the kitchen.

You usually liked you have everything tidy and dinner almost ready for when Mason got home, not by his request in fact you didn’t think he cared all that much but you just liked knowing it was done, however over the last few weeks it was becoming difficult to juggle. With Tilly being so small still a lot of your attention was on her when she was awake and whilst you tried to give Ollie as much of your time as you could, lately all he wanted was Mason and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting a little bit.

Ollie had been a daddies boy from the get go but ever since you’d been spending a lot of time with him at home when Mason was training you’d foraged a pretty strong bond. The pair of you had bought him up to be a kind and considerate little boy, having thanked your lucky stars that he’d seemingly skipped the terrible twos but now you were just wondering if his were slightly delayed and you were now experiencing the ferocious fours.

You felt relived Mason was home though, trying to hold yourself together as you did most nights now so he wouldn’t suspect anything. You didn’t want him thinking you didn’t have everything under control so made out you were fine however you weren’t sure how much longer you could carry on like this for and you knew Mason was starting to catch on.

‘Hello sweetheart’ you suddenly heard behind you and you almost lost it when you felt Masons lips on your temple. That tiny bit of intimacy and affection letting your walls slip ever so slightly but you managed to pull yourself together.

‘Hey Mase, sorry about the mess’ you said quietly, not being able to look at him but you knew he would of had a confused expression on his face. ‘Dinner won’t be too much longer. Why don’t you take Tilly in the other room with Ollie so I can get sorted’

‘Baby?’ He questioned, and you swallowed down a lump before looking up into his curious eyes. ‘Are you alright?’

‘I’m fine, just been a long day’ you reassured him before reaching down to grab Tilly out of her crib so you could pass her to Mason, knowing he’d never say no to spending time with her. ‘I’ll call you when it’s ready’ you told him and with a kiss to your forehead he was off.

Now you were alone you quickly cleared up all the toys before checking on dinner and even though you had a spare ten minutes, you spent that time on your own sat in the pantry so you could collect yourself for the rest of the evening as to not arise any suspicion from Mason and also just to decompress a little bit.

Ollie of course was an angel now that Mason was home, telling him all about his day and being as charming as ever and when you were all sat on the sofa later that night you tried not to let it show how upset you were when he refused to sit in the middle of the pair of you and wanted to just sit next to Mason. You could see Mason giving you a confused look, threading his fingers through yours as shuffled up to you to make room for Ollie on his other side and you made sure to rest your head on his shoulder so he couldn’t see your glassy eyes and wobbly lip.

‘You go put Ollie to bed and I’ll lock up and sort everything out down here’ you told Mason and with a kiss on your forehead he moved Ollie to take him upstairs. He ran off without saying goodnight first but you were a little bit relieved as most nights he caused a scene about it now, no longer wanting a kiss from you and wriggling away as quickly as he could. You weren’t sure you could keep on a brave face tonight and you pretended you didn’t see Masons disappointed look before he went upstairs to put Ollie to bed.

You had been laying in bed with Tilly for about ten minutes and there was still no sign of Mason appearing. You were both on top of the covers as she was snoozing peacefully next to you and you took the time to look over her features carefully. It was scary how much she looked like Mason, the same lips and chin and from the brief glances you’d seen they both had the same beautiful brown eyes, the exact same as Ollie’s.

‘You’d never be mean to mummy would you Till’s?’ you whispered as you stroked her cheek gently. ‘Gonna make sure you’re a mummy’s girl and we’ll do everything together. When you’re old enough we can go out shopping and give daddy a show of everything we got when we’re back, and we can go out for girly lunches and coffee and tell each other everything’ you whispered, planning out how you hoped your relationship with Tilly would pan out whilst wondering where you went so wrong with Ollie.

‘Has he got ants in his pants or something today? Took me forever to get him down’ Mason told you as he made his way into your room, his face softening as he caught sight of the pair of you. ‘There’s my girls’ he whispered, kissing both your heads gently before walking over to his wardrobe so he could get changed.

‘How’s she been today?’ He asked, sliding ontop of the sheets opposite you so he could lay next to Tilly and face you.

‘Yeah really good. After her lunchtime feed she stayed awake for like ten minutes just looking at me. It even look liked she smiled when I spoke to her’

‘That’s cause she knows her mummy’s voice’ he told you as he went to hold one of her hands with his finger.

‘I’m pretty sure it was just wind but I’m counting it as a smile’ you joked and he looked up at you lovingly.

‘What about you? How are are you?’ He asked and the sincerity in his voice broke you. You done everything you could all day to keep your emotions in but one simple question from the man you loved broke all your walls down and you had to hide your face in the pillow as you began to sob. ‘Baby? Baby what’s happening?’ He asked slightly panicked but you couldn’t reply right now, your chest caving in on itself as you finally let out everything you’d been holding in for weeks. In the end you felt him scoop Tilly up and place her in her crib before crawling back next to you and pulling you into his arms.

He didn’t attempt to ask anymore questions, he just let you cry it out into his neck whilst he held you to him, stroking your hair and trying to soothe you in anyway that he could until he felt your breathing get back to normal.

‘You know I can read you like a book right? I’ve know something was wrong as soon as I looked at you today. You’ve been like it for a while but today it was worse. Talk to me sweetheart, I hate seeing you like this’ he told you gently and you knew there was no point trying to brush anything off anymore.

‘It’s just finding it all a bit hard’ you told him, shuffling back at little bit so you could speak a bit easier and you felt yourself relax even more when he cupped your jaw and brushed a few tears away. ‘Im just tired I think, and there’s always something to do. The house is a mess no matter how much I clean it, I’m still trying to get into a routine with Tilly but it’s tough and then Ollie…’

‘What baby?’

‘I don’t think he likes me anymore’ you laughed but you were sobbing again straight after

‘Oh, I don’t think that’s true. He loves you baby I promise. What’s made you think that?’

‘He’s just been a bit mean to me lately. Doesn’t do anything I say and just wants you. I know things are different with Tilly being around now but I just feel a bit rubbish. Like when I spend all day with him and he tells me he doesn’t want me it hurts a bit’

‘I’ll speak to him tomorrow’

‘No it’s fine’ you sighed, rubbing your eyes so you could finally look up at him. I think I’m just a bit tired and feeling sorry for myself. I feel a bit silly and like I’m making more out of it than I should’ you reassured him. ‘I’m just really tired and it’s making me feel like I can’t do things and that I’m a rubbish mum. I don’t want you to think I can’t cope, cause I can’

The look of sympathy he gave you made your heart flip and you smiled when he placed his lips on yours, finally feeling a bit more settled as he showed you some affection. ‘I know you can. You’re doing such a good job mumma, I promise’ he whispered against your lips and you felt your tears flow again. ‘I probably haven’t told you that enough at all but I promise you, you are. And I don’t care if I come home to a messy house or if dinners not ready by a certain time. We can do that stuff together yeah? That’s what families do’

‘But I don’t want to burden you when you’ve been at work all day’ you sniffed but he was shaking his head lightly.

‘Just cause I’ve been out to work doesn’t mean you haven’t been working all day too.

‘I just want it nice for when you get in’

‘I know baby and I really do appreciate it but everything doesn’t have to be perfect. We’re still a work in progress and we’ll get there’

‘I love you’ you sobbed and he bought you back into his arms as he rocked you ever so gently.

‘I love you too’ he whispered before letting you calm down and stop crying. ‘When’s Tilly’s next feed?’

‘In about 15 minutes’

‘Are there bottles made up in the fridge?’

‘Yeah should be’

‘How about you get yourself tucked in and I’ll give Tilly her bottle. I’ll give her the night feed too so you can get some proper sleep’

‘Mase, it’s fine-‘

‘No, I’m being serious. Daddy’s home and he’s in charge now’ he laughed whilst tickling your sides and you fake gagged as he kissed all over your face. ‘Come on, get in and we can have a little cuddle and then it’s off to the land of nod for you. Tilly wants some daddy daughter time, she told me’ he winked.

You eventually listened to him, tucking the pair of you in so he could hold you while you went to sleep, eventually feeling him slip out of bed before picking Tilly up and taking her downstairs for her bottle. You didn’t wake up again until you felt him sneak out of bed again to give her the next feed but with a light kiss to your cheek you were off again.

You felt a lot fresher the next morning, but half an hour after Mason had gone you were on the verge of crying again. Ollie refused to eat his breakfast because Mason hadn’t made it and was screaming the house down whenever you tried to put Tilly to sleep. You tried sending him to his room but he refused and around 2pm you were ready to tear your hair out. You needed to pop to the shop but the thought of getting Ollie ready to go outside filled you with dread but you were standing strong and trying hard to get him to do what you needed him to.

‘Ollie, I won’t tell you again. Put the pencils away and come here so I can put your coat on’

‘No, I want daddy not you’

‘Daddy’s not here. Please just do it’

‘No!’ He shouted, throwing the pencils up in the air so they clattered to the floor with a loud bang, causing Tilly to cry almost immediately.

‘Oh Ollie’ you shouted, letting your frustrations get the better of you before he ran out the room. His little feet pounding up the steps until you heard his door slam but you weren’t fussed about him right now, reaching down to pick up an upset Tilly as you held her to your chest and tried not to cry yourself.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you felt a hand on your waist, your teary eyes looking up into Masons sympathetic ones and you froze on the spot. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet and you wanted to have everything sorted before he was but he’d seemingly caught you in the middle of a meltdown. You went to speak but he shook his head, kissing your forehead gently before peeling a still grizzly Tilly from your arms.

‘Go sit down baby, I got this’ he told you gently and you were too distressed to argue so you let him take her as you went into the living room. He wasn’t long and before you knew it he was next to you, bundling you into his arms as you clung to him for dear life. ‘I’m going to have a word with him, I don’t care what you say. I’m not having him speak to you like that it’s not on’

You didn’t argue with him, knowing you couldn’t keep this up for much longer so you just nodded before leaning back a bit.

‘He’s been like it all day, he just won’t do anything for me and I don’t know what to do anymore’ you told him, your bottom lip wobbling as he took your face in his hands before kissing your forehead.

‘I know, don’t worry I’ll fix this’

‘I wanted to fix it myself’ you laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension a little bit but you could tell how disappointed he was. ‘How much did you hear?’

‘All of it’ he sighed. ‘I didn’t wanna come bursting in and start shouting. I think it’s best I calm down and give him some time before I speak to him but I’m fucking furious. Is he like this everyday?’

‘Most days’ you whispered and the look of disappointment that clouded his face made your tummy drop.

‘You should of told me’

‘I wanted to handle it on my own-‘

‘But you’re not on your own. We’re a team remember? We made that little shit together and I’ll always be in your corner to fight back with you’ he laughed, trying to make you smile and even though you were upset you couldn’t help but laugh with him a little bit. ‘Now you just stay here, I’ll go grab Tilly for you and then I’ll go speak to him’ he told you gently, kissing your forehead before jumping up so he could get Tilly and settle her in your arms.

Mason took the stairs two at a time, nervous about having such a serious conversation with Ollie but he couldn’t let things carry on like this. Coming home to you so defeated everyday after you always tried so hard to make sure everyone lived in a happy house angered him more than he could say but he knew he couldn’t shout at him. He was still only little but he should know better than you treat you that way.

‘Ollie, open the door mate’ he called and the door flew open a few seconds later, Ollie smiling like butter wouldn’t melt as he hugged Masons legs but he didn’t offer him any affection back which made Ollie pull back with a pout. ‘Go sit on your bed for me I need to talk to you’

Ollie plopped on his bed with a thud, seemingly unaware of what Mason was about to talk to him about but he knew it was all an act by the way he sat playing with his fingers, a nervous trait he’d picked up from you and Mason had to stop himself from smiling.

‘Daddy’s really not very happy Ollie, why do you think that is?’ Mason asked and Ollie just shrugged his shoulders. ‘Nuh uh, we’re not doing this. You know exactly what I’m on about and I’m really disappointed. You know that behaviour isn’t acceptable’ he told him in a stern voice, trying to be firm and get his point across but also not frighten him. ‘You promised me you’d look after mummy when I’m not here so why have I come home to you shouting at her and not doing what’s she asked you to do?’

Ollie didn’t speak, just carried on playing with his fingers as he looked down and as soon as Mason saw his lip start to wobble his heart broke a little bit, eventually pulling him over and into his lap.

‘I don’t want you to get upset Mate, but how you’re feeling now, that’s how you’ve been making mummy feel for a little while and that’s not nice is it? We don’t want mummy to be upset do we?’

‘No’ he told Mason, shaking his head a little as Mason rubbed his back a little bit.

‘Cause we love mummy don’t we? She does so much for us and it’s important we’re kind to her. She works so hard everyday to make sure we’ve all got what we need and makes sure we’re happy so we need to make sure we look after her like she looks after us’

‘Im sorry daddy’ he finally sobbed, tucking his head into Masons neck as he started to cry.

‘I know mate, but It’s not me you need to say sorry to is it?’ Masons asked and Ollie shook his head into Masons neck. ‘Let’s go see mummy so you can apologise’

‘Okay’ Ollie sniffed before crawling out of Masons lap so he could stand up, rubbing his eyes before Mason held him by his arms.

‘I know you’re sorry but I really don’t want to have to speak to you about this again okay? If I do I won’t be as calm about it. Mummy does absolutely everything for you and I don’t like seeing her upset. Promise me you won’t do it again?’ Mason told him before holding out his pinkie finger which Ollie wrapped his own around.

‘I promise’ he told Mason and he looked like he meant it so Mason held his hand for Ollie to take so he could walk him downstairs to see you and apologise.

‘I’m gonna wait here for a little bit yeah?’ He told Ollie and with a final ruffle of his hair, he watched him run over to you, and throw himself into your arms. Thankfully you’d place Tilly back into her crib nearby so your arms were free and as soon as you worked out what was going on, you pulled him up into your lap so he could throw his arms around your shoulders. You felt your eyes prick instantly as you felt his little body shake.

‘I’m sorry mummy’ he sobbed and you quickly scratched over his head lightly to try and calm him down in a similar way you always did with Mason when he was upset. It seemed to work and soon enough he was pulling back to place a kiss on your cheek causing you to smile.

‘It’s okay baby, thank you for apologising’

‘Hey Ollie’ you suddenly heard from the doorway and you looked over to see Mason making his way in. ‘How about we go in the kitchen and clear your mess up?’ He asked and Ollie nodded before you helped him down so he could make his way into the kitchen. Mason quickly made his way over to you so he could drop a kiss on your lips and with a quiet I love you he was following Ollie into the kitchen.

Around ten minutes later Ollie was walking back in with a bottle for Tilly in his hands and you hadn’t even realised the time and that she was due a feed.

‘Oh thank you baby’ you smiled as he passed it to you and you gently grabbed Tilly so you could feed her. ‘Would you like to come and help me?’ You asked tentatively and to your surprise he nodded shyly at you so you carefully helped him up to sit in the corner of the sofa before laying Tilly in his arms and helping him hold the bottle, feeling more complete that you had in weeks.

Mason soon joined you, a small pout on his lips due to the fact he probably felt a little left out but he was quick to sit down as soon as you patted the space next to you.

‘I’ve made a start on dinner, how does daddy’s special pasta sound?’ He asked, wiggling his eyebrows but Ollie was looking back in disgust as he stuck his tongue out.

‘Want mummy’s pasta’ he laughed and Mason rolled his eyes playfully.

‘Of course you do’ he teased before his eyes landed on yours.

‘Thank you’ you whispered, leaning over to give him a quick kiss and you smiled as he pulled you back to deepen it a bit. ‘I mean it, thank you for all of this’

‘You’re welcome, gorgeous. You know I’d do anything for you’ he whispered, kissing your temple before resting his head on top of yours so you could watch your eldest baby feed your youngest, finally feeling like you’d done something right.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed :) I’d love to know what you thought so please feel free to comment or drop me an ask, I’d really appreciate it 🩷

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #mason mount fan fiction #mason mount concept #mason mount blurb #mason mount story #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

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imagine-that-100 · 6 months

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Chicken Shop Date | Part 9 |

By @imagine-that-100 and @alovesreading

Description: Matty Healy x Reader (Female) | You and your best friend Amelia came up with a very simple idea of taking celebrities on awkward chicken shop dates, and somehow, it’s managed to become both of your jobs. In the past, you’ve found sitting across from some of the biggest stars on the planet and eating chicken nuggets easy. But then Amelia manages to score you a date with the man who you’ve been obsessed with since you were nineteen; Matty Healy.

Word Count: 38.8k

A/N: SURPRISEEEE!!!! We are so very sorry it's been so long but this is a long chapter so we hope you forgive us! You would have gotten this yesterday but turns out there is a limit on tumblr and we went over it and I wasn't going to post it elsewhere and leave us tumblr lot behind. So sorry for the delay but we're here! This is going to be so so so much fun, we really hope you enjoy it. We adore this chapter and we hope you like it as much as we do. Please let us know what you think, we won't keep you any longer, go enjoy! Thanks so much for reading x

| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |

After the Belfast show, you felt like you were on cloud nine. Matty and you could finally let yourselves be seen together without any worries, and despite not being huge on PDA, it felt so good knowing that you can just be hand in hand with your boyfriend without worrying about being seen by people outside your inner circle.

The only downside to it all was the fact that the tour was over and you had to go home, only to leave it an hour later. You were not going home with your boyfriend this time, Matty was going back to Manchester with the lads for their Gorilla gig which you were unfortunately missing since your Copenhagen trip was stealing you away for the first three days of the month.

Knowing that you were an hour ahead of him, you made sure to be back from dinner early so that you were in bed and ready to indulge in the madness and properly let yourself react. There was no way you weren’t crying watching the videos people would post. And if you managed to find a livestream like you had for a handful of shows in the US, you knew you’d be an utter mess.

Seeing the mess of tweets on your timeline had you getting nervous, and instead of letting it all out in the form of multiple distressed tweets, you decided to let it out in the form of a desperate message to your boyfriend: I think you should cancel Gorilla since I won’t be able to attend x

Unfortunately, he didn’t give you the answer you wanted because your phone vibrates less than half a minute later and you can almost hear him giggling as you read his message saying, I’m five minutes away from going on stage baby little bit late for that xx

You can’t stop yourself from scoffing and you know he definitely can picture your reaction when all you reply with is, Don’t care xxx

Matty knows how to get you though, because you bite your tongue when his text comes through and it says, Oh but you do and it’s very cute of you to pretend xxx

The only way you can think of getting him to pity you for missing this is by being entirely honest, so you quickly send, I would have cancelled this trip if I knew when you posted that insta story that it was gonna be a self titled show 😭 xxx

Reading him saying, Don’t worry I’ll play them again for you xxx makes you pout because you want to be in that crowd experiencing it for the first time like everyone else.

It’s not the same but thank you x is your first answer, in instinct, but then you give it a quick thought and your fingers quickly type, But since you so kindly offered I expect to be serenaded, I want candles, I want eye contact, I want my own acoustic set of self titled x

You laugh at yourself like a fool at just the image of that actually happening and so you finish your string of texts by adding, No pressure or anything though xxx

His answer is just, I’ll make a note x and you know exactly the way his face is contorted at his phone, with that smirk that’s almost mocking and his wide eyes framed by lifted brows.

Thank you xxx you reply, biting your bottom lip, you miss him pathetically so and you wish even harder you were there, not only to experience what’s about to happen but to have him next to you again. After being joined at the hip for a month, it came as a heavy weight on your chest to be away from each other.

That weight gets heavier when you read he’s sent, About to go out baby, hope you’re having a great time with Dimz. Miss you lots, you’re here in spirit xx

Before he goes, you quickly reply, Miss you too!! I suppose I hope it goes amazing 🥺 Don’t fuck the lyrics up you grandad xx

Of course, his response to that is a, I make no promises xx that has you rolling your eyes and chuckling. He follows that with a sweet, I’ll text you after xxx

Melting further into the bed, you send back a wholehearted, Stop texting me and play the album that made me love your music xx before you go back to Twitter to become part of the collective meltdown.

That last text made it almost impossible for Matty to stop smiling for the whole of the gig. It was an hour and a half of pure joy for him to be playing his first album again in Manchester of all places and he knew that he could come straight back off stage and you would be there for him to talk to about just how much he loved it.

But the lovely surprise that he got was that his phone had been bombarded with texts already and seeing that they were all from you made him grin like a fool. Even when he opened your messages and he saw the first you send after you bid him goodbye made him laugh out loud.

I’ve just found a link to a livestream and I can wholeheartedly say: I hate you.

You didn’t tell me you were putting a fucking box out from the self titled era. I hate you.

No. No. No.

Something inside him aches when he reads another of your first spamming of messages.

It’s like I’ve travelled back in time to your 2014 show but I’m not there to see it in person like I was back then, what the fuck Matty?!?!?!!!?

It makes him wish that he found you back then. That you could have been together for so much longer than you currently have been. All he wants is more time with you and he already can’t wait to see you again. Even though you might be a little upset with him after how you’ve described his show.

This is a cruel form of torture.

Matty finds himself snorting when he reads one that came in just moments after the last, Why wouldn’t you professionally stream this you twat.

It’s a good idea from you to be fair. It makes him think that he should have actually done it to raise more money for War Child, especially since the whole show was being professionally recorded for the band's sake anyway.

Before he can scold himself too much he reads your next text which again has the curly haired singer laughing out loud when he sees: I’m crying to fucking MONEY. The hold you have over me is insane.

He can picture you crying to that song, probably as you try to sing along as well, and the scene he’s got in his head just makes it harder for him to stop laughing. In between giggles and half lidded eyes, he continues reading the following texts.

Did you really just get the lyrics wrong to talk you fucking muppet. It’s the easiest song you have. WHY DO YOU TALK SO LOUD!!!

He knows for a fact he will hear shit from you on that front because he knows that tonight he was bad with the lyrics. But he will argue that he can’t be expected to remember them all when he’s getting older and he has more banging tunes in his repertoire to remember these days. And he hasn’t listened to self titled properly in full since the album listening party on twitter back in 2020 weeks before Notes came out.

There must have been a small gap where you actually watched the stream you found, as you don’t send anything about Sex or Chocolate despite them being absolute bangers (if he does say so himself). He has no doubt you were either grinning like a fool as you sang along or probably crying and singing along if your earlier messages were anything to go by.

Heart Out is still a fuckin bop, it’s awful it’s not on the setlist permanently.

That one has him smiling, but he’s grinning like a fucking moron in response to the next song on the setlist. He can practically hear you saying the following messages he received like you are in the room with him.

Settle fucking Down. Holy shit Matthew!

Still remember being so confused when the video to this first came out, I had no fucking clue what was going on but christ it’s such a good song I don’t care.

Matty can’t help but find that one funny because there was definitely a vision for it that not everyone got but it made sense to him so he just ran with it. But it’s your next few messages that have him shaking his head trying not to grin at his phone like a fool.

You better do that high note!!

Do that fucking high note you slut!!!!

YASSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m crying again. Over a fucking high note. I need mental help.

If you don’t wanna be with me after this I understand but you needed to know at some point how deep this obsession for your music ran.

No I can’t handle Robbers right now you dick why would you do this to me?!!!???!

As endearing as he finds the warning of your obsession and his get out of jail free card, it wasn’t as if he didn’t already know what he was in for. You have a tattoo already showcasing that love for his music and he’d seen the way you lit up even during his soundchecks when it was practically just you in the audience and even then you looked like you were having the time of your life listening to his music.

And it wasn't as if you don’t tell each other you’re obsessed with each other anyway. Matty knows what he’s in for and he’s certain nothing could scare him off at this point.

Not when all his chest can do is ache with longing to speak to you when he reads your next chunk of messages.

I’m at she way out and I’m still crying

Play this song more often!

Menswear goddddd!!!

Did you know I’ve had an amaretto at every wedding I’ve attended in the last ten years because of this song?

You’ve cost me so much money. And that’s not including your tickets and your merch.

Matty chuckles at those but even more so when he realises the album must have finished and in response to that you decided to inform him.

I’m depressed now. What are you going to do about it???

But clearly you’re cured by the time he starts playing the next song because you’re even virtually singing along and he can practically feel the way you screamed it at your phone as you pressed send.

SELLING PETROLLLLLLLLL

But then you clearly have a giggle with yourself as immediately after you were scolding him.

Your fave essential oil lmfao

You’re an idiot for not knowing what an essential oil is.

The singer vaguely remembers the interview you're referencing. The miscommunication with an American somehow got him in the shit with fans at the time and clearly now with you which is almost unfair when the woman interviewing him didn’t even know what petrol was… So much for being a fan of his band when petrol is a literal lyric.

Your next few messages make him smile and his heart skip a beat. He really should have asked you to film yourself reacting to the whole gig because imagining your face when reading each message wasn’t enough.

Happiness slaps every damn time, you put something in that song I swear.

And he can’t help but smirk at the compliment, and his smirk only gets bigger when he reads the next text.

Definitely like you better when you take off your clothes 😜

The heat that rushes through him is exchanged for amusement when his gaze falls on your next text and the laugh that escapes his lips is uncontrollable.

BE MY MISTAKE AFTER ALL OF THIS ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING!!!!!!!!!

Prepare for a slap the next time I see you. I’m crying again.

He imagines the slap will be even harder when he reads what you’ve spammed him with barely 15 minutes ago.

NOT ABOUT YOU

MATTHEW TIMOTHY HEALY

WHAT THE FUCKKKKK

Well the tears are streaming now well done. Hope you're happy.

You can’t leave it there.

Are you kidding??????

Ending on about you?!??!?!?!!! After self-titled in full??!?!?! You’ve murdered a nation.

Hate you x

Matty snorts at that one. He knows you don’t mean it though because your next message is too kind and he can’t stop smiling at his phone.

Christ I hope you left your phone backstage lollll sorryyyyy xxxx

Message me when you can xx Really proud of you xxx

Reading that makes his heart swell an embarrassing amount. It’s certain he goes all gooey inside, the buzz from getting off stage sweetened by the rush of joy that hearing from you causes him.

Of course he thanks you and he apologises for upsetting you, and when you tell him not to he just apologises again to get a rise out of you, loving that you’re so easy to wind up. You tell him how much you loved it but you’re more keen to know if he enjoyed it.

He tells you that he did, but it doesn’t put a patch on the banquet records gig where he spotted you in the crowd and he told you that he missed having you there.

Matty texts you on and off for the next hour, starting off with you telling him that you’d enjoyed the set but obviously he wanted to leave you to your fun with Amelia, so he tried not to bother you too much. And knowing that you were an hour ahead of him in Copenhagen meant that he knew you needed to get some sleep soon.

That being said he couldn’t deny himself a bit longer talking to you whilst you were still coherent. He wishes he could ring you and hear your voice but people weren’t even leaving him alone to text you. He asked you how your night had been knowing you had your first brand event to be at this evening.

You tell him how fun it was, and admit that you felt imposter syndrome takeover again but somehow managed to not let that become too unmanageable so it didn’t ruin your night. He could practically picture everything as you explained about how they had everyone congregate for a sit down meal, all of you wearing some of the brands new line of clothes so you could help them promote it, and how it was a lot of fun having free cocktails and food with your best friend and your stylist before coming back a bit early so you could catch the livestream.

As Matty was chatting to you, he got another text from a number that was yet to be saved to his phone. It was curiosity alone by the image he could see that was attached to it that led him to click on it. And thank Christ he did.

It turns out Amelia had acquired his phone number, probably from you at some point. But this was the first he was hearing from her and he’s glad he did because she was giving him such glorious content. Opening the text, Matty chuckles when he reads,

I think I deserve compensation for you and your silly box band for having my best friend like this for the 7474526273743rd time!!!!!!!!!!

And yes she’s drunk

The picture of you that she’s sent makes him giggle. You’re sitting cross-legged on the bed with your laptop just in front of you, in one hand you’re holding an almost empty glass of red wine and the other is wiping away your evident tears from your cheeks.

Matty giggles seeing that, but his heart goes out to you simultaneously because he of course doesn’t ever want to make you upset. However, Amelia is clearly the one that needs the next text.

I can arrange compensation for you

Her reply doesn’t even take 10 seconds to come through.

Does that compensation have a first and last name??? Thinking beginning with R and M?????

The singer genuinely has to pause for a second there. That’s again another time someone has started pining for Ross and the maths isn’t quite mathsing in his head. People really like Ross this much?

Regardless, Matty quickly types back, Okay stop thirsting, your best friend is drunk

Her reply is again fast, but this time instead of confusing him it makes him grin like a lunatic, 🙄 Yeah I’m well aware, she can’t stop yapping about you

He feels all fuzzy inside at the mere thought of making you happy when you talk to each other. And the fact you tell your best friend about him just makes him think that he’s doing everything right. He feels like he definitely is, because he’s certain he would have heard from Amelia before now if he hadn’t.

Matty ends up responding cockily, Thought you’d be used to that by now?, before he adds your best friend as a contact and names her Dimz.

It somehow has gotten worse, Matty reads her reply come through as he’s searching for the chicken emoji to put next to her name.

He can’t help but snort, Who would’ve thought????

After going back to chat to you for a little longer, Matty realises the car that's dropping him off is close to home now, not even two minutes away and when he tells you this, you decide that it’s time to bid each other goodnight. You tell him to send his family your love and you both promise to phone each other when you get up the following morning to properly catch up.

It’s difficult not to carry on texting you when he makes it inside his childhood home. He’s so used to chatting to you before you go to sleep after the last month of being on tour together that it's a little strange for him.

He stays awake chatting to his Mum and Lincoln for a little while before he heads upstairs knackered now after a long day of socialising and entertaining. He briefly sends some memes off to the group chat as he gets himself ready for bed before he sees in his notifications centre that he’s missed another text.

It’s from Amelia again and she only sent it 15 minutes ago, so the singer quickly taps on it as he gets himself into bed.

Had to take her out to console her with her favourite coffee…

Seeing the photo that she’s sent, Matty genuinely thinks his heart may burst out of his chest. He sends off a gooey response of love heart emojis back but after that he’s transfixed at the sight of you.

In the picture you're laughing holding your coffee but you’ve managed to somehow get the whipped cream on your nose. The sight is adorable, you’re so cute and you easily have Matty’s heart longing for you, his pulse racing at the thought of being close to you again and making you laugh like that in person.

It’s probably not good for his heart, getting into a relationship again when he’s due out on such a big world tour. Missing you is going to hurt him more than he could probably cope, but the moments with you are so worth the brief pain of not being with you for a bit.

Looking at this picture of you, he can’t help but let his imagination run wild. Making you laugh and giggle like this in person on all the dates he’ll take you on in the future. He can picture you holding your drink with a diamond adorning your left ring finger too as you hold up your cup, and he’d take pride in knowing one day soon he’d get to marry the girl he loves.

He loves you.

God, he loves you so damn much.

And it only dawns on him just how much as he stares at this picture of you giggling with whipped cream smeared on your nose. Obsessed truly isn’t the word anymore, he’s well and truly head over heels for you.

Matty saves the picture in a heartbeat and quickly makes the picture his lockscreen so he can be reminded just how in love he is everytime he looks at his phone. And Matty falls asleep grinning like an absolute fool at the picture of his girlfriend knowing he’s deeply and madly in love with her.

~*~*~*~

Your phone rings alive and startles you out of the conversation you were having with Amelia as you waited right by your gate. When you check the screen to see who’s calling, you smile and feel your insides be coated with the familiar warmth that your boyfriend brings to you whenever he’s mentioned, or when something reminds you of him, or he calls or texts you.

“Hey Matty.” You answer quickly, a big grin on your face that he can picture just from the pitch of your voice.

He matches it, and his smile reaches his eyes as he greets you softly, “Heya baby, how are you doing? Hope you’ve had a nice last morning.” Amelia rolls her eyes and fakes a muted gag before going to her phone when she hears it’s your boyfriend calling you, it makes you snort.

“I’m okay, thank you. And yesss, it’s been good.” Remembering the lovely time you’ve had in Copenhagen makes your smile the tiniest bit bigger but then you remember the time difference and you’re frowning, “But why are you awake so early?”

It’s merely an hour behind that he’s at but you know he appreciates sleeping in in the morning, just as you do, so you thought he’d still be asleep hence why you’d sent him a quick text that read, At our gate waiting to board! See you soon baby xx which he had yet to reply.

Your frown dissipates and you’re left smiling like a fool again when his words, laced with sweetness, come to the admission of, “I get to see you in a few hours. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Stop it.” You let out automatically, your cheeks starting to heat up and hurt from how big you’re smiling.

Matty doesn’t help your case trying to seem cool when he chats back with a smooth, “It’s the truth.” He’d seen your message come through and suddenly the day was perfect already.

You can see him shrugging and offering you one of his nonchalant smiles, and your heart squeezes in your chest picturing him with his face puffy from sleep and his curls messy, tired eyes trying to stay open and that loopy smile he gives you whenever you wake up beside him.

“I hope you went to sleep early then.” You bargain for that, trying to feel less bad about him being up this early to check on you, or worse woken up by your text.

He hums softly in confirmation, “Accidentally did actually, weed knocked me out.”

“Well I’m glad you got some sleep at least, but don’t wake up on my account.” He’s your boyfriend and all but you were still going to text him when you were boarding and when you landed so that he wouldn’t worry, he really didn’t need to cut his sleep short for you.

“Hush now,” He waves you off lightheartedly, “What’s your flight number and what time are you due back?”

“Due in at Heathrow at 11:25am,” You reply easily but a thought sparks in your mind and you giggle to yourself before you correct your actions, “One sec, let me actually send you a pic of the board because I know you’ll forget.”

“Okay, thank you baby.” He finds himself stupidly swooning over how easy it has been for you to pick up on his habits, the good and the bad. “I’ll pick you and Dimz up - and if it’s okay with you after we’ve dropped Dimz off we can head back to yours?”

His suggestion warms your heart but you really don’t want to be a burden so you easily reply, “You don’t have to get us, Matty, it’s okay. We can get a taxi.”

“No, I want to and I want to see you.” It’s not like he was asking if he should pick you up, he already was going to do that. He was just trying to suggest you two go back to your flat considering how much comfort that would bring compared to going back to his house after a month away from home. “Dimz too, obviously, but I wanna see you and I bet you are dying to sleep in your own bed again after a month away.”

“God, I really am.” Just picturing falling back into your own bed sounds so heavenly, your words come out in a softened moan that amuses him, and it’s when you add, “Might be more excited for that than to see you.” that he actually giggles.

“Oh, I see how it is.”

“I’m joking, I’m joking.” You quickly say to take it back but Matty knows you actually meant it and he finds it so endearing.

“You’re not and that’s fine.” He corrects you and the giggle that accompanies it soothes you that he can read you so easily.

With a sigh, you let out, “You know me scarily well.”

And it has him proudly adding, “Well you are my girlfriend. I intend to find every last detail about you, and you loving your sleep seems like a big part of your day.”

“Yep, now you know why your date was at two o’clock.” It’s probably the time of the day that has you admitting that, even though you know it might’ve been embarrassing to admit that before, it feels right to just share your train of thought back then.

He hums softly, taking a few seconds to do a bit of maths in his head about how your day must’ve been leading up to the date, “Still must have got up pretty early if you got up and did your make up and trekked it all the way from Brixton to over my way and to set up and everything by two.” His brows raised when he reached his conclusion, knowing the effort it must’ve taken for you to wake up that early for it all, “You must’ve got up at like ten, maybe nine and that’s early for you.”

“I actually couldn’t sleep properly the night before our date so I think I got up around six.” It's almost like in a whisper that you admit that, and you giggle at the soft gasp he lets out.

“Six o’clock?! Wow baby you really must’ve been tired that day.”

He hears you hesitate when you think back to that day, only being able to remember how it all started and your heart grows in size in your chest, “Nothing you didn’t wake me up from when you asked for that fucking kiss.”

“Hey, if I hadn't asked for that kiss then we wouldn’t be talking right now.” He quips back in a heartbeat, and he takes a moment to think back to that day with pride and so much appreciation for everything you’ve shared of yourself with him since then.

“Never said I didn’t appreciate the kiss.” It’s the first thing you say, just to clear up because there’s not one kiss of his that you’d never appreciate. And then you continue, “I just preferred the one outside where there weren’t any cameras or anyone else watching me kiss the guy who was my lockscreen for almost five years.”

Matty smirks when he hears that, but he plays on the past tense of your statement to tease you, “I best be your lockscreen again.”

“My lockscreen is actually a picture of Ross from the gorilla gig.” You quickly reply, lying with ease to taunt him back.

And you have to bite your bottom lip to swallow a laugh when his voice drops to an unimpressed tone when he says, “You better be joking.”

You don’t relent in your effort to give him a taste of his own medicine and, nonchalantly, continue adding to your bluff, “Nope, he looked so good.”

The only answer your boyfriend can give you is an ultimatum that makes you laugh, “You have until you get home to change it.”

But you play into his petition by asking him, “What would you prefer it to be?”

“I don’t know, a picture of us maybe or just one of me.” You shake your head and roll your eyes to yourself when he says that, knowing that if he was beside you and he’d seen Ross as your lockscreen, he would’ve taken multiple selfies in that very moment and chosen his favourite to replace his best friend.

You hum as if you’re deliberating whether or not that being a good call, eventually you come back to him with, “Ames will call me a simp.”

To which he wastes no time to answer, firm conviction when he says, “And you are one. You’re obsessed with me, remember?”

“Mmm yeah, I guess I am.” You give into him, this game that you always get in with him giving you an endless rumble of butterflies in your belly that makes you wanna giggle. “Guess I’ll change it.” You end up giving in, a tone in your voice that tells him you’re being kind making that decision.

He overlooks the sassiness in your voice to comment, “Good because you’ve been my home and lockscreen for a while.” knowing that it would bring you out of your jokey state.

Though, you still are in it because you chuckle and reply to that with a mocking, “Lucky you getting to see my ugly mug every time you’re on your phone.”

“Shut up.” He calls you out almost hissing under his breath, “You’re gorgeous. You’re everything.” There’s something laced around the last word he lets out and Amelia finally lifts her head up when she sees you dramatically letting your head fall back on the seat and you clearly flustered at whatever your boyfriend has just said. She squints when she sees the glimmering of your eyes being a product of the tears starting to pool in your eyes.

Matty hears you sigh heavily and he’s the one to melt completely when you say, “Don’t make me cry this early in the morning, Matty.” A call for him to have mercy on your heart. You can’t believe he has you acting like this in the morning in the middle of the airport.

Amelia takes the chance to chip into the conversation, even though she can’t hear Matty, and she leans into your side so she can loudly say into the speakers of your phone, “Please don’t. You know what she’s like when she’s overtired.”

You roll your eyes at your best friend but she flips you off as she sits back straight, not managing to listen to Matty replying with a, “I do, indeed.” followed by him talking to you directly afterwards, “You best sleep on the plane, baby.”

“I’ll try.” You halfheartedly promise. It’s only a 2 hour flight back so you don’t know if you’ll be able to catch sleep that quickly after boarding, and if you do, you’re afraid you’ll wake up all grumpy from only getting a fleeting rest.

“Okay, I’ll let you go now then.” Matty offers you softly, and knowing then that you’re so soon due back beside him makes his heart squeeze in his chest, “Can’t wait to see you soon baby, I’ve missed you.”

This time, you just can’t hold in your stupid little giggles and they slip through as you reciprocate, “Me too. See you soon, baby.”

Every minute that passed after the call ended felt infinite to Matty. It was like the seconds elongated cruelly and he couldn’t stop fidgeting around his house whilst he waited for the clock to strike a time that was logical for him to set off to get you and Amelia.

It got even worse when he got there and he waited outside with a cigarette between his lips, hoping that every drag would soothe him while he eagerly waited for you to walk out. Hoodie up to hide his curls and sunglasses on the bridge of his nose to not garner any attention. Thank god it worked because everyone seemed to pass by completely ignoring him and he could peacefully settle where he was standing for a bit. The relief Matty felt when he watched your plane land on the tracker though was like nothing else, it would only be a short while before he got to be with you again.

The feeling that washes over you when you walk out of the arrivals doors and Matty sees you is indescribable. The smirk he offers you makes the feeling increase tenfold inside you and fills you with warmth when he walks closer to you and Amelia and you hear him greet you with a cheeky, “Hello you.” over the noise of your cases rolling on the pavement beside you.

“Hiya baby.” You greet back with a loopy smile on your face, you feel your face heat up and the tips of your fingers tingle with the need to trap him in a tight hug.

“Dimz.” Matty says to your best friend who’s smiling beside you, a tilt of his chin in acknowledgement.

“Hello Matthew.” Amelia replies and she comically and dramatically runs to hug your boyfriend before you can.

You watch her case roll away slightly as she lets go of it and you hear the soft ‘oof’ Matty lets out when Amelia crashes on his chest but he still wraps his arms around her shoulders and sweetly clutches her to him. He keeps his eyes open and his smirk is still stuck on his face as he embraces your best friend so you slowly finish walking up to them and say, “Alright then, I see how it is.”

A giggle escapes you when he reaches one of his arms out and grabs your wrist to pull you in and includes you in the hug with a breathy “Get in here.” that he says in between a chuckle. You find yourself letting go of your case too and wrapping your arms around the two people in front of you.

Being so close to him, you can smell his scent again and you’ve never been more relieved to be drowning in the smell of cigarettes mixed with a hint of weed and his aftershave. It lights up your face, your grin only getting bigger when you’re met with his face merely inches away from yours, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Matty says back and he leans over Amelia’s shoulder to close the distance and trap your lips in a quick kiss.

You only get to relish in the feeling of his lips on yours again for a split second because when you lean back and your lips separate with a soft smack, Amelia is pushing herself away from you both and dramatically gagging.

She scowls jokingly at you two, and acts like she’s fed up with the PDA, “You’re sickly cute, it’s annoying.” You know she’s joking and it makes you snort in laughter, Matty only smirks harder beside you as he snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you in close to his side.

Welcoming the feeling of his body melting against yours, you let your head fall on his shoulder and pucker your lips to drop a chaste kiss on his jaw just before he says, “Lucky I’m dropping you off at home Dimz, because it’s only gonna get worse.”

Amelia sighs but she sees on your face how hard you’re trying not to actually throw yourself on your boyfriend, so she calls Matty out to taunt you, “Hug your girlfriend properly, she’s missed you.”

Matty coos and, pressing his lips to your forehead, his lips brush against your skin when he asks, “You missed me baby?”

You feel your face heat up thanks to Amelia so easily exposing you but you know you can’t play it cool and try to hide it from your boyfriend so you pathetically mumble, “Always.” in response.

Just hearing the subtle despair seeping through your voice makes him quickly turn on his heels to properly crush you in a hug that you two so desperately had been needing. Your arms wrap around his neck and his go around your waist, fingers digging into your flesh as if he was preventing anyone coming and snatching you away from him.

It’s clear what it is and you feel it just the same, your fingers coming up the back of his neck and you feel the goosebumps rising on his skin before your fingers get lost in his curls and you hum in bliss when having that feeling back. Barely a few days had gone by since you last saw him but god did you miss him. Your nose brushes the stubble growing on his face, and you feel his lips brushing the skin of your neck almost teasingly before he leaves a trail of pecks up your neck until he reaches your ear. You inhale deeply at the tingles that rush down your spine, thinking about how you don’t want to be anywhere else but here. In his arms. For as long as you can.

“Did you sleep on the plane?” He whispers in your ear and you have no idea if you want to laugh or cry at the fact that he knows just what to ask.

Sheepishly, you shake your head and mumble, “Nope…”

And with that answer, Matty slowly pulls back to look at you and, as if it is the only important thing in the world, he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and says, “God, let’s get you home to bed.”

~*~*~*~

Dropping your best friend off was quick and easy, and it left you and Matty to enjoy the rest of the trip back to yours. He left your heart warm even in the quiet moments when he did nothing but hum along to the tunes the radio was playing and rest his warm hand on your thigh. It’s silly how such small details could make you so happy but by god you really are.

The second your flat's door is unlocked, you come in followed by Matty and you all but run to your room. Dropping your stuff by the threshold of your room, you go straight to the bathroom and take a much needed shower. It feels so nice being back home and feeling the warm water rain down on you in the comfort of your own space is so soothing.

When you come out, you find your boyfriend already waiting for you to get in bed so you quickly change into an oversized top (which is definitely Matty’s) and a pair of joggers (which you also stole from him), and blow dry your hair in a hurry to finally throw yourself in bed with him five minutes later.

The moan of pleasure you let out at the comfort of your own mattress and being wrapped in your boyfriend's arms makes Matty chuckle.

“This is heavenly.” You mumble against his chest, which is bare since he shed himself of it as well as his hoodie, and he clutches you even tighter to him.

“I know.” Matty agrees, letting his head rest atop of yours and he leaves a kiss there before whispering, “Finally.”

The breath of relief he lets out matches yours, and you let your eyes flutter close as a smile breaks out on your face. It just feels so right and you feel the way you just melt into the bed and his hold. The heat he exudes so familiar and just what you’d been craving all along.

You’ve got no grasp on time or reality when you peel your eyes open again. The only thing you know is that you had squirmed in your place and subconsciously wanted to nuzzle into your boyfriend’s neck only to find your cheek squished against your pillow and the other half of the bed empty.

Blinking your eyes repeatedly, it takes you about half a minute to come to your senses and sit up to look around your room. It’s when you’re squinting to see if his hoodie is still on the floor where he dropped it earlier that you hear a sound coming from your kitchen and you spring up quickly to head over there. Of course, not before snatching his hoodie from the floor and putting it on you, letting the fabric swallow you comfortably.

Your bare feet softly and quietly pad through the hallway until you get to the kitchen and there you find him, with his shirt back on (unfortunately) and his back to you as he stirs something in a pot. The smell of cooked chicken fills the room and when you walk up to him and snake your arms around his waist from behind, you can see he’s made chicken alfredo.

He tenses up for a second before he relaxes again and it makes you giggle before you compliment, “Oooo… Looks delicious, baby.” It also smells delicious and you’re bathed in this warm feeling that makes you wanna kiss him all over, so you leave a trail of kisses from his shoulder going up his neck until you go on your tiptoes to smack the last one on his cheek. “Thank you.”

Matty hums in response, that smile of his tugging at the corners of his mouth and it makes you smile just as big. He lets his head tilt to the side so it knocks into yours and he can’t help but feel all gooey inside when you hug him that bit tighter.

He turns off the hob and allows himself to glance at you as you walk over to the fridge. When you open it, you let out a soft gasp seeing it far different from how you left it back at the start of the year when he convinced you to join him on tour. It’s full, you giggle like an idiot when you see the cans of Tango lined up on one of the shelves and in the freezer you can see he’s gotten you a few tubs of your favourite ice cream.

“Thought I’d go to the shops for you whilst you rested.” Matty comments sweetly and a bit shyly.

In an instant, you’re almost leaping towards him and crushing him in a hug. A hug that lasts a mere few seconds because you pull back and cup his face with your hands to trap him in a dizzying kiss that he welcomes gracefully. His hands coming to cup your arse and squeezing it makes you laugh so you break the kiss, and he takes advantage of the way you throw your head back in laughter to drop a bunch of kisses up your exposed throat.

One last peck is left on your lips before your boyfriend pats your arse and instructs, “Take a seat for me, baby. Food is ready.”

The grin on your face grows even more and the apples of your cheeks start to hurt when you occupy one of the chairs in your kitchen. You watch attentively as he walks around the place so smoothly. He gets a pair of plates and then walks over to the fridge to get you a can of Tango, cracking it open before setting it in front of you and he doesn’t pass the opportunity of getting another kiss from you after you thank him for the drink.

His tongue sticks out slightly as he plates his creation and you bite your bottom lip as to not giggle when you see him puff his chest out at the sight of what he’s made for you. Matty gets cutlery for the both of you and brings the two plates over to the table.

“Thank you baby.” You say sweetly when he places the plate in front of you, carefully getting the fork and knife from him and you wait until he settles on his own seat before digging in.

Your eyes roll back and you let out a moan at the taste of the first forkful of pasta you get, and the pride in his face makes him look absolutely stunning. With a hand over your mouth, you swallow and let him know just how delicious it is, “This is so fucking good.”

Matty hums proudly and he digs in himself. He feels your gaze on him, waiting for him to agree on how good he’s done and when he swallows the bite he’s taken, he matches your smile, “I did pretty fucking good, didn’t I?”

The laugh that elicits from you is music to your boyfriend’s ears and he’s beaming at you as you say, “You really did.”

After that, you fall into conversation and, despite being at yours and the setting being so mundane, you find yourself thinking about how much this feels like a date and you fucking love it.

You love being like this with him and finding the different aspects of him, and getting a taste of the sweet things he does for you makes your heart swell in your chest. Especially when he tells you just what he got you from the shops and you want to throw yourself at him and kiss every inch of his face when he tells you that you’d yet to see he’d gotten your favourite snacks.

Time continues to pass as you talk about everything and nothing, gossiping and laughing and just enjoying each other’s company. The more the clock ticks, the more you find yourself thinking about how you could get used to having this forever. And it’s not as terrifying as it might’ve been before, now it’s exciting and it’s almost like you’re impatient for the rest that’s to come.

It's warm and tender talking to him, and the both of you seem to not be able to stray too far from physical contact either because your legs are hooked around each other underneath the table and you're holding each other's hand across the table. At one point you can’t not take a picture of his hand beside his drink that he was clearly finished with because he put his fag dimp in it. You can’t really believe that the man with dad tattooed on his wrist is actually your boyfriend now, it still shocks you when you think about how long you’ve admired this man from afar and now he’s all yours.

When you’re done eating, Matty suggests going out for a walk, thinking you might want some fresh air and maybe let out some of the energy you might now have after the rest you got. But it’s cold outside and, despite him mentioning that he has a spliff to share, you don’t wanna leave this bubble that you’re in with him. So you shrug it off and instead mention how you don’t mind smoking weed inside and it becomes a plan then, going back to your room and getting high together in bed.

Considering he’s cooked for you and done your shopping, you offer to take care of the dishes and he reluctantly lets you while he cleans the table and gets you two the snacks you want to take with you. Once you do your bit and put everything in the dishwasher, you and Matty head back into your room. You’re both just feeling overly affectionate and cuddly with each other so it’s no surprise when you end up in each other's arms again. This time though, you don’t end up falling asleep, no instead you end up chatting each other's ears off.

At some point, you’re not really sure how long passed before you got up and took the both of you a drink. But when you come back, instead of lying down beside him again, you lie across your bed and rest your head at the bottom of his stomach.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you yet?” His words are just as delicate as his touch, his right hand, with which he’d just lit the spliff alive a minute ago, threaded through your hair and softly brushed it back and over his stomach.

You let the drag you’d taken relax you even further by letting your eyes flutter close but you still enthusiastically try to get more of what he’s saying, “Oooo… like what?”

His sharp inhale reaches your ears and you smell the smoke lingering in the air as he throws a bunch of questions out, “Anything? What was your first pet called? Your first job? What crazy stuff did you and Amelia get up to in high school?”

Pinning each question inside your mind, you open your eyes and reach up your hand for the joint, bringing it to your lips leisurely and taking a slow drag. You let it swirl inside your mouth and down the back of your throat for a few seconds before exhaling the smoke upwards, a blanket of bliss brought by the weed enveloping you nicely and it makes you smile as you answer, “First pets were goldfish I proudly won at a fair when I was little and I called them both Tom and Jerry.”

A short, but amused, “Nice.” is what you get from Matty and it makes you giggle, you pass him the spliff back and let your hands clasp together over your stomach.

You still show your pride at the chosen names for your (now very dead) goldfish, being smug when adding, “I know right. I loved that programme as a kid.”

Matty hums in agreement, “It was a gooden.”

And then you remember the rest of the questions so you continue answering with ease, “My first job was in a cafe. Worked way too young.” He feels you shake your head on his stomach, your hair tickling his skin that’s showing as his shirt ridden up. “I worked cash in hand at fifteen so not even allowed to legally work. I stayed there for a while until I was eighteen then I went and worked in a bar but I hated it and I quit after three weeks by handing my boss a post it note that read ‘I quit’ with a little smiley face on it.”

A soft gasp comes from your boyfriend and it makes your smirk bigger, “No you didn’t…”

“I did.” You assure, proudly. You’d never been prouder of yourself than back then, and it had been so relieving to gain the courage and finally make that decision because that job made you absolutely miserable.

Matty chortles at the joy on your face when recounting the story but he’s still curious, “You’re so funny, what did your boss say? What did they do?”

You shrug nonchalantly, much different to how you felt back then, and answered his questions, “They knew I hated it but they were very kind to me and took it and let me leave without giving notice.”

“That’s nice of them.” He points out, elated for your past self having had an easy time with that situation.

With a nod, you agree, “Yeah they were really nice.” You watch as he takes another drag of the joint, and after flicking the ashes on the ashtray he had placed on your bedside table, he hands it to you just as you’re trying to think of the answer to his last question.

“As far as crazy shit me and Ames got up to, it wasn’t interesting.” There’s no insanely crazy and out of hand story that comes to your mind, and you have to remain in silence and think about it really hard to remember something slightly crazy in your boyfriend’s standards. Inhaling a bit of smoke clears your memories up and you smile thinking about a memory that was now incredibly funny to you, “There was a house party once that ended up with flashing blue lights and everyone had to run home before we got caught underaged drinking.”

Curiosity shines on his face, he perks up atop of your pillows and rushes you to continue with an eager, “Do tell.”

You chuckle at his impatience and get right into your story, “We were at our friends house, I’d say we were fifteen, maybe sixteen, and it was a really good party, I think it was just for the girl’s birthday or whatever but that doesn’t really matter. It ended in disaster though when one of the girls who clearly couldn’t handle her alcohol tripped and went head first through the glass sliding doors.”

His loud gasp and the quick, “No.” that he let out in response makes you laugh even harder, squirming on his stomach and making him smile at the way your hair tickles his sides.

With a nod and taunting wide eyes, you continue after taking another drag before handing the spliff back to him, “Yes, and it was all Amelia's fault. Because this lightweight had spotted Ames having her first kiss outside and she ran to tell us and as she was running back to the back door she tripped and went straight through it. Turns out Amelia and this lad obviously closed the door so they could have some privacy but that turned into a scene from Casualty and I had to deal with a fuming best friend because she had her first kiss ruined and we all had to run home.”

“How selfish of the girl to purposely ruinthat for her.” Matty chuckles sarcastically, your head rising and falling a little as he laughs picturing your best friend being selfishly fuming.

You play along, holding your giggle but Matty can see and hear just how big your smile is, “I know right.”

“What were you doing as she was kissing her man?” Your boyfriend asks curiously, spliff held right by his parted lips but not closing around the filter just yet because his inquiries were more important to let out than taking a puff, “Who were you kissing?”

“Oh no I was inside talking to our friend’s Mum eating pizza.” You snort out in laughter faintly remembering that happening, but despite the weed making everything feel light and feathery, your amusement is still brief and the corners of your lips fall to turn your smile into a flat line, “I didn’t have my first kiss until I was nineteen.”

“Nineteen?” Matty’s eyes go a little wide in surprise, “Really?” He’s just a little confused because you’re so beautiful, and Amelia has shown him pictures of you when you were younger and you were just as pretty back then. How no one would have snapped you up he really doesn’t understand. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.

“Yep,” You sigh, thinking back to it, “Perks of spending most of my teens struggling to figure out if I really liked boys and girls, and worrying that if I was ever caught kissing a girl someone would tell on me and I’d have to come out before I even truly figured it out myself.”

He has to take a few seconds to process what you’ve just said and his heart squeezes in his chest when thinking about you feeling trapped in such a dilemma when being your true self should’ve been always the obvious choice. He gets it though, it’s all easier said than done so he nods with a soft smile on his face as he looks down at you, “Completely fair enough baby.”

It wasn’t your intention to make things serious all of the sudden, though you know it is a piece of information that your boyfriend should know to know you even better, but you find yourself coming back around to what had come up before your bisexual trauma piece and you smirk as you carefully pick your words to get his curiosity rising once more, “Funny story, my first kiss was your fault.”

He frowns a little, “My fault?”

“Yep, it happened at your show.” You explain and chuckle seeing Matty looks absolutely dumbfounded. He makes you chuckle as you continue, “Yeah so there was a cute guy as I was in the pit for your show and we were chatting and flirting a little as we were waiting for you to come on.”

You make sure to turn your head to the side to look him straight in the eye when you get to the interesting part, wanting to perfectly see his reaction to the story, “Then you came out and everything was fine, I was loving it. And I think it was before you performed Sex you said ‘if you wanna get off with someone whilst you're here, this is your moment’ and once you’d started we sorta looked at each other all coyly before he kissed me. Was amazing, so yeah thank you for that.”

There’s a long few beats of silence that go by and you're left holding your breath and pressing your lips together not to burst out laughing. The only noise you hear is the burning of the spliff as he takes a long drag, his cheeks hollowing and a frown on his face when he holds the smoke in the back of his throat for a few seconds before exhaling. He then breaks the silence by letting out a mumbled, “I have no words.” that let his disbelief shine through pretty obviously.

“Shut up.” You say in between giggles, you shake from the laughter over him and your cheek is left pressed over his We Are Kings tattoo, which is peeking from the bottom of his shirt, the hair that adorns his lower stomach tickling your skin.

It’s almost like your boyfriend can’t stop himself when he quickly follows up with an important question, “Did you get with him?”

To his relief, you shake your head and shrug nonchalantly, clearly showing how little you actually cared about it other than the experience having been fun and very on brand for you. “Nope, never saw him again after that night. Never even caught his name.”

Almost like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, Matty sighs, but he still frowns as he admits the burning feeling scorching his insides and leaving a slight bitter taste in his mouth, “I feel like I shouldn’t be jealous, but I am?”

You can’t take him seriously though, so you cackle loudly, letting your head turn back so you lie there facing up to the ceiling. Only once you managed to control your laughter, you poke him on his side and call out a mocking, “Oh shut up.” before plucking the joint from his fingers and bringing it to your lips.

The next few minutes are spent leisurely smoking after having fallen in a comfortable silence. The smoke lingering in the air over you like a warm fog that only had you two sinking further into the mattress, the warmth that your skin touching exudes is heightened under the influence of the weed, and the feeling of his fingers carefully brushing through your hair makes you hum in utter bliss.

Like a film reel, you watch the day back and when you come back around to the stories you’ve just shared with him, your eyes go wide as your curiosity shocks you back to life like a bolt of electricity.

“What about you? What was your craziest house party? Did Denise ever tell you off for any?” The words come from your mouth in a hurry, stumbling behind the other and he flinches at the way you quickly shift in your place, startling him as he had his eyes closed and was relishing in the quiet that had drowned the room.

Matty blinks a few times before managing to realise what you’ve just asked, and he clears his throat before he can mindlessly say, “She was okay when it came to parties to be honest-” He cut himself off when a memory came rushing to the forefront of his mind and his eyes go wide when remembering what had happened, “Oh my god…” He mutters first and then he’s carefully recounting, “There was a time I got caught when she went on holiday.”

You’re definitely intrigued by his reaction, but you expect a wild story if it comes from Matty. You knew how much of a little shit he had been in his teenage years from interviews and stories you’d heard so far but getting to hear a new story excited you almost childishly, “Oh yeah?”

What you weren’t expecting was for him to follow up with, “Yeah, but I got caught two years after it happened.”

Matty sees your mouth open agape at the detail, your brain a mush trying to sort out the chances of that happening but you can’t so you quickly ask, “What? How?”

“It’s the stupidest story. Doesn’t even sound real but I swear it is.” He says as a preface and you become more intrigued by the second.

A loopy smile shows on his face, his eyes crinkling at the edges and his voice sounds amused like he’s holding back a laugh as he narrates, “I threw a party when I was seventeen when my Mum and Dad had gone away on holiday and they had this jeep they would never let me drive because I didn’t have a licence. So this party I decided, you know what imma drive this fucker while they can’t stop me.”

You can’t help but cackle at the way he talks about his defiance, it’s contagious as he chuckles along with you before he continues, “There were a few of us at this party right, they were all cheering me on except for Hann.”

You almost want to coo at the mention of Adam being the only one to properly use his brain, “Of course, because he’s sensible.”

But your boyfriend scoffs loudly and refutes your point, “He was a fucking bore and a cock block.”

Another loud cackle slips past your lips, a smile appearing on his face despite his efforts to appear serious about the matter. He has to press his lips together not to giggle at the mischievous smirk that shows on your face before you say, “Matty, you shagged his cousin. He can't be that good at cockblocking.”

Matty snorts at that, knowing Adam’s blessing meant nothing to him at one point in time when he was horrendously head over heels for his cousin. Matty just laughs, “Flo just couldn’t resist in the end, okay?”

“Yeah,” You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what happened between him and Flo and that was certainly not the case. Sarcasm and disbelief is thick in your voice when you add, “I’m sure.”

“Hey!” Matty frowns down at you, offended that you don’t think he’s irresistible.

“I’m kidding,” You chuckle, taking the blunt off him and taking a puff before you prompt him to, “Carry on.”

“Right so, Adam was the only one to be like ‘no, don’t do it’ but of course I went and did it anyway.” Matty explains twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers, “Me, George, Ross and our mate Pete in the Jeep. Hann stayed at the house because he was a boring prick.”

You scoff at that, shaking your head as you declare under your breath, “So nasty.”

Electing to ignore that comment, your boyfriend continues, “And we drove to the field just across from mine, opened the gate and started leathering it around this field doing skids and stuff. Then we got to the gate for the next field across and George got out and opened it for us and we went about in there too. But then we realised our mistake.”

For some reason you find yourself smiling in anticipation at that comment since you know it means that’s when the trouble started, and you look at him as you take another drag as he carries on to tell you the full story.

“There were horses in that field, so after we realised we headed back to the first field but George didn’t get back out and shut the gate and we spooked them too, so after we’d done more skids and turned back to close the gate, the horses had come into that field.”

As you laugh, the smoke comes out of your mouth too, making Matty watch you as you declare, “You idiots.”

“No, what made us idiots was thinking we could on our feet herd up the horses getting them back into the other field.” The beginning of an embarrassed smile makes its way onto his lips now. He almost doesn't want to tell you, but he knows it’ll be worth it when he hears you laugh again if he does.

Matty takes your offer of having the blunt back and he explains before he has another puff, “We did that for about half an hour and it was raining at that point and we were getting muddy. We went back to the car defeated but then because of the skids and the rain the Jeep got stuck in the mud and we were stuck.”

You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, “Nooo, what did you do?”

“We had to walk back over to the house and had to get Hann to help us.” Matty sighs remembering just how much shit Adam gave him that day, how he told him multiple times it would be a bad idea and he wouldn’t let him forget he was right.

“Long story short, Hann made me call the farmer the next day and he towed it out. Then Hann, being the only one old enough to drive, had to take it to the car wash for us and we had it deep cleaned and he drove it back to its spot on the drive. And thankfully when Mum and Dad came back they never noticed.”

You laugh practically being able to hear in your head the way Adam had told him off for his silly activities. After being on tour with them and getting such a better insight to their whole dynamic you just know Adam wouldn’t have let Matty get away with random shit he pulled as a teenager, and that’s hilarious to you, the thought of Matty being scared of cute little Adam Hann.

Matty can’t help but smile at the way you're giggling. God he actually loves you so much he thinks his heart just beats for you, his heart racing getting faster at the sight of you all happy and hearing your loud laugh.

Your giggles die down but you can’t keep the smile from your face. You’re too happy right now, everything about this evening has been the best and you’ve loved this story so much. Hearing even the tiniest thing about his past makes you so happy, like you’ve got to know him even better and on a deeper level. It warms your heart massively.

“Wait,” You pause for a second, remembering how the conversation started out, “You said she caught you two years after it happened? How? Did the farmer tell your Mum and Dad?”

“No, it's worse.” Matty signs, not believing he’s about to admit, “A fucking areal photographer knocked on our door two years later and showed Mum the pictures he took years ago and the fucking Jeep was in the middle of the field with horses around it. I got bollocked. Me and Flo were upstairs in my room and we just heard a booming ‘Matthew!’ from downstairs.”

You let out a little giggle, unable to help yourself, and it warms Matty’s heart as he plays with your hair. You have to ask him, “Did you shit yourself?”

“Big time.” Matty smiles, “No clue what it was about until I saw the pictures and then I just had to accept my fate.”

“I bet Flo was pissing herself.” You look at him as you say that and you already know the answer from the look on his face.

“She was. She bullied me relentlessly after it happened, especially since we never told her about that one.” He tells you as he stubs out the last of the blunt and waits for the drug to take full effect.

You hum, “She wasn’t at the party?”

“No, she only came over from Sheffield in the summer and it was maybe like March when we did that.” Matty tells you, “She wouldn’t have condoned it anyway she’d have stopped us like her cousin tried to do.”

You accidentally cackle once more, entirely amused at the fact that he got caught the way he did. It’s so fucking funny to you, your uncontrollable laughter starts again, “I can’t believe you got caught two years later.”

Matty can’t help but join your giggles, “Me neither.”

A sigh comes from you when you manage to calm back down, and then you’re calling him out further, “And you all thinking you were cowboys and could get the horses back.”

He scoffs, offended, before he’s correcting you, “Hey, I look good in cowboy gear.”

You make a hesitant noise, letting the seconds drag and making a show of acting like you’re really weighing his words. His mouth hangs open as he watches you and you have to bite your tongue not to laugh again before you conclude, “Now, maybe.”

Both of you end up quietly giggling, but then Matty tries to tickle you and you plead for him to stop, absolutely hating being tickled. Before you’ve let it slide but this time you fight back, managing to get enough distance between you so you can try and pin him down but as you know you’re going to fail you end up just leaning down to gently bite his bicep.

With that, Matty stops in a little bit of shock. You look up at him, trying not to smile but failing miserably. Your boyfriend is struggling to keep his smile away as he asks, “Did you just bite me?”

You completely fail not to grin, it being too funny to not, and you just shrug, “Maybe.” before letting him go and falling to the mattress just beside him.

You turn on your side so you’re facing him and your boyfriend mirrors you, both of your heads sharing a pillow and you’re hopelessly grinning at each other.

“Hey.” You start by saying, stupidly really, just as much as the grin on your face while you take in every little detail on his pretty face.

“Hi.” Matty says back, flashing you that crooked smile you adore so much.

Your heart swells in your chest as you grow nervous at what you’re about to ask, “I have a question for you.”

He nods and then prompts you to, “Go on.”

It’s stupid how you have to take a deep breath before you can ask him, “Will you be my date to our Valentine’s party?”

Matty is your boyfriend and you don't need to be worried about him turning you down but you still grow even more nervous when he frowns in confusion and says, “Valentine's party?”

“Yeah we’ve done one for the last few years but this year it’s all about Amelia because I’m not single anymore.” You explain easily, wanting to hide your face behind your hands by the end though, because his smile turned into a smirk that made your cheeks heat up.

His hand reaches out for yours, intertwining your fingers and bringing your joint hands up to his mouth. He drops a peck on the back of your hand and his lips brush against your skin when he replies, “I would love to come, when is it?”

“The evening of the ninth?” Your answer sounds more like a question since you know he’s due to go to New York tomorrow, unsure of when exactly he’s coming back.

But to your relief, he clears it up for you, “I get home early on the ninth so yes, I’d love to come. I could come straight here so I could get ready with you?”

“Sounds perfect.” You state with a loopy smile coming back to your face now that you’ve got that sorted out.

Matty can see you getting lost in your thoughts and he would let you so he can admire every bit of you as you do, but he has an inquiry of his own so he drops a few kisses on the back of your hand to catch your attention and when he sees your eyes widening slightly and focus back on him, he starts, “I have a question for you now.”

“Go on.” You say with a cheeky smile, copying his same words.

“Will you come to the Brits with me?” Your boyfriend asks, breathy words like he’s doing it just as a joke.

He was so sure you’d say yes so it’s a complete and utter shock when you mutter a quick, “No.”

His brows shoot up and his eyes widen, he actually retracts and there’s a distance between you to accentuate his shock at your reply. His words come out filled with despair and confusion, “No? Why not?”

You want to laugh but manage to hold it back as you explain, “Because I’m already attending and interviewing.”

Once you clear that up, relief washes over him and you feel him go from tense to letting his shoulders relax and melt back down on the mattress. It’s like a flip has been switched, his eyes grow a little dark and mischief is written all over his face, “Are you now?”

“Don’t get excited, you will be getting ignored.” Is your warning to him since you can almost see inside his mind and know that he’s planning to pull a number on you on that red carpet.

His answer is a simple, “No.” that you have to fight against yourself not to giggle about.

You clear your throat, willing your amusement away before getting serious again and chatting back, “Yes. You’ll be treated like any other regular attendee.”

His exaggerated offended face is back on, jaw dropped and a frown to accentuate the way he says, “You could never. I’m your boyfriend.”

It’s your time to play with him, so you smirk and challenge with a cheeky, “Watch me.”

At this point, Matty knows you don’t play about when it comes to your job so he sighs, dropping his facade to actually find a way to work out how to have you with him that award night. “Well can you at the very least sit with me? Be my date at the table?”

You want to agree to at least that, but you have to ask, “What about Ames?” because you’re not leaving your best friend to fend for herself.

“Dimz is more than welcome to join.” Matty smiles, not thinking for a second that Amelia wouldn’t be joining you, “There'll be plenty of room.”

Your smile is huge knowing you’re going to accept his offer, but you hum for a few seconds as if you’re weighing your options. But of course you end up accepting, “Okay then.”

Matty chuckles at your fake deliberation, and he leans in to quickly kiss you sweetly. After he does, he stays close and mumbles against your lips, his grin still huge, “Can’t wait for you to interview me again and for your facade to fail.”

“I will not break.” You pull back just enough so he can tell you’re serious when you demand, “You’re not allowed to flirt with me. I’m only allowed to awkwardly flirt with you.”

It’s Matty’s turn now to hum as if he’s thinking about it, but then leaving you with a rather threatening, “We shall see.”

“Matthew.” You raise your eyebrows, warning him.

But he just comes back with a playful, “Y/N.” that matches your demanding tone.

Leaving you no time to argue, Matty leans the short distance forward and attaches his lips to your own again.

It’s slow and delicate, soft inhales coming from the both of you as your lips move in sync like you’ve got all the time in the world. The weed has lulled your senses and you find yourselves giggling in between kisses, lips smacking and smiling against each other’s mouth before going back in.

His hand, which had been resting on your waist, easily trails a steady path up your body as his mouth continues moving against yours. The warm touch leaves goosebumps in its wake until he cups your jaw, wanting to keep you in place whilst he props himself up on his elbow and starts lifting himself up to hover over you.

Once he’s on top of you, the curls you adore so much brush against your forehead once and your hands quickly move to the back of his neck and up into the locks so you can dig your fingers in and pull them however you please.

Your fingers buzz with this energy like just brushing his skin erupts a sizzling electricity in between you two that has you feeling elated. He moans when you pull harder on his hair and your mouth parts wider to let out a whimper that he swallows. He tastes like the smoke you just shared, and it’s so inherently him it just makes you even dizzier.

You love it so much, you start mumbling your sweet thoughts against his mouth. It’s a struggle to understand but it’s an even bigger struggle to stop kissing, the desperate urge to say what you’re thinking makes you pull harder so you can break the kiss. He groans at the sting of it but his heart soars in his chest when you let out a breathy, “Obsessed with you.”

Matty barely manages to reciprocate with a rushed, “Me too.” before he dives back onto your mouth. It’s desperate when your lips crash together again but he melts into the same deliberate pace he’d set before when your tongues meet.

At this very moment, you’re entirely his. Every single one of your senses are completely captivated by Matty, your sight, smell, hearing and taste bleeds into one and it’s all him. The man you adore so much, who makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the world and feel like you’re being worshipped.

Everything about him consumes you, and you’re almost too busy realising how lucky you are to notice that his knee has come to rest between your legs until you roll your hips and the sudden friction against your clit makes you gasp. Pleasure overtakes you and your hips start grinding against him without you really thinking about it, the feeling so good that you’re whimpering and moaning into the kiss. Matty groans, feeling himself getting hard just from the sweet sounds you’re making and the way your pace picks up as you try to get off on his thigh.

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, looking down and catching the erratic movements of your hips. His mouth dips down to your neck, starting to kiss and suck on your sensitive skin, only making your mouth hang open even wider and your throat drying as you continuously gasp.

Your hands fall down his neck and onto his shoulders, wanting to pull him closer to you, but when you dig your nails onto them and you feel the fabric of his shirt covering it, you’re whining out your instructions, “Take your clothes off.”

He chuckles, playfully digging his teeth on the side of your neck before lifting his head up to chat back, “You’ve got too many clothes on.” You’re the one wearing a hoodie over your shirt after all, so you win him over by a piece of clothing.

“Take them off me then.” You challenge him and the look on your face is enough to have him smirking.

Your pupils are blown out in lust, chest heaving as you try to regain composure but he still takes the chance to taunt you by simply calling you, “Lazy.”

“I’m sleepy.” Is what you counter with, partially true since the spliff has made you sleepy but it’s mostly his presence and touch which has you dizzy and loopy out of your mind. Matty has you dazed and you’ve got no problem giving yourself up to his mercy at the moment, you just want him in any way he’d allow.

But of course, when Matty hears this he has to stop, his expression softening when your words reach his ears, his lips falling in a sweet pout of understanding, “Are you? Should we just go to sleep then, baby?”

A stern, “No.” quickly leaves your lips, and you add a shake of your head just in case.

He’s still wary, his hand coming up to softly brush the skin of your cheek, “You sure?”

There is no doubt in your mind and you nod gently, a dopey smile on your lips as you tell him, “I want you.”

The smirk that pulls at the corners of his mouth makes you wanna roll your eyes and groan in pleasure, he looks so fucking good above you with unruly curls falling around his face like a halo, his eyes darkened by need and his lips pink, swollen and wet from all the kisses you’ve shared.

Mischievously, he dips down until your noses brush and his lips move tauntingly against yours in a ghostly but deadly touch when he asks, “Do you now?”

It’s easy to say, “I always do.” in admission when you’re wet and throbbing for him already.

“Simp.” He quips, pushing himself up the bed so he can kneel on the mattress as he takes his top off. He comes back down with a smirk growing on his face, and when he’s merely an inch away from your face, he lets out a chuckle that hits your parted mouth.

Raising a brow, you take the chance to tease him back, playfully correcting his word choice, “Horny, more like.” Emphasising it by letting your eyes shamelessly go down his naked chest and taking in every inch of his skin, the sight just makes your mouth water and your brain fill with the most sinful thoughts so you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to muffle a moan.

With a shake of his head, your boyfriend resumes his attack on your lips, both of you giggling as he does. Soon the giggles die though when his fingers become more intent with their hold on your jaw, making you moan in response but when you go to continue relishing on that delicious friction you’ve created by rolling your hips on his thigh, you find he’s purposely moved his leg away.

You whimper at the loss, almost like the start of a tantrum and he knows exactly why that is. The smirk that breaks on his face makes it impossible to continue kissing, yet you’re still desperately leaving wet kisses on his lips, before guiding them down his jaw and neck.

Your focus has been entirely taken by wanting to mark him up, to hear those addictive moans of his, to feel him shudder when you get to that sweet spot at the bottom of his throat; but you’re completely distracted from your task when his hand snakes down your body, into your joggers and he feels how wet he’s already made you.

Mewling against his lips as he starts drawing circles on your clit through your soaked underwear, your small begs are thankfully heard. Your boyfriend moves the material that's separating him from you to the side and teases your clit again.

You choke on your breath, the pleasure feeling more intense with your muscles relaxed and mind numbed from the weed combined with you not having been with him in a week. It’s all a little much, yet you need more.

And you’re glad you’ve reached the point where you don’t even have to ask for what you want, he already knows. It’s sweet relief when after a minute Matty drops his hand and sinks two fingers inside you, euphoria taking over, the stretch so sweet you roll your hips trying to get more.

A loud moan gets stuck in your throat, your head thrown back and your mouth agape, your eyes rolling back into your head and your back arching when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot perfectly, “F-fuckkk, Matty.”

“Right there baby?” He asks breathlessly, his own mouth opening agape just watching as you begin to crumble beneath him.

You hum, your eyes shutting tight and biting your lip as he starts picking up the pace. Your voice all pleasure stricken and raspy, “Oh fuck- Yes. Feels so good, baby.”

Your arm wraps around his neck, nails digging in the flesh of his shoulder to keep him right there, not that he was going to move when he had you becoming a mess for him like that.

Matty leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, wishing he had taken off your hoodie to bite and suck and lick your tits, he could see your chest heaving and sweat coating your forehead, hair sticking to it as you gasp in pleasure.

“So fucking pretty, sound so sweet for me baby.” He mumbles in your ear, his hot breath making you shiver and clench around his skilled fingers. His voice still low as he praises, “You like that? My sweet, gorgeous girl.”

There’s no shame in you that could have you denying that, you nod and it’s almost missable if it wasn’t for your soft hum of confirmation. Matty smiles, kissing you sweetly again as he presses the heel of his palm against your clit, sparking the pleasure that runs up your spine.

You’re drenching his hand already, the coil in your lower stomach tightening with each stroke of his calloused fingers. It’s not long that you've been together, but he already knows you so well, easily having you falling apart for him in just a few minutes.

Stretching you out further, he adds a third finger and this time, your loud cries of pleasure come out of you with ease. It makes kissing him impossible, when so overcome with the euphoria running through your body, making you buzz with ecstasy, all you can do is whine for him.

Matty’s hot breath mixes with yours, your parted mouths right next to each other, your half lidded eyes trying to stay open so you can hold his gaze as you grow closer to your orgasm. A buildup that only gets more intense when he starts rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb as he continues pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt.

“Baby you’re so wet for me. Makes me wanna taste you.” He whines, sharing his lustful thoughts with you, his lips pressing kisses at the edge of your parted mouth. You whimper in response, almost drooling in pleasure at the thought of that tongue of his dipping into your cunt and flicking your clit until you cum all over his face. “Gonna make you cum on my fingers first though. You’re so fucking good to me, you deserve to cum on them, no?”

“Yes.” You pant out desperately, licking your lips and nodding your head to agree with him. Tugging on his curls harder, you quietly plead, “Please baby. Feels so good.”

He hums and smiles to himself, his hips grinding softly against your thigh in an attempt to relieve himself as you’ve made him so hard. He finds his search for relief through you though, needing to make you feel every ounce of pleasure before he gets any. He kisses down your jaw, and hums into your ear, “I know, baby. You’re gonna cum, yeah? Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

Your walls clench around him as he continues with his filthy words, nodding to say that you will, silently promising to do nothing but be good for him. He can feel you so close to the edge and he will not stop until he has you convulsing beneath him, he whispers, “Drench my hand baby.”

You mewl as you start rocking your hips more intently, meeting him in the middle, fucking yourself on his fingers and your legs begin shaking as you near your climax. The filthy whispers coming from your boyfriend only pushing you closer and closer to your inevitable release.

It’s not long before you’re letting yourself fall over the edge and fall apart beneath him entirely. Your brows furrow and your lips part to let out the prettiest moans he swears he’s ever heard, your back arching and making your chest press flush with his so he can feel your pebbled nipples through the fabric of your hoodie. Your legs shake and close to trap his hand there, but he uses his legs to keep you spread apart so he can ride your orgasm out.

Blood rushes down to Matty’s cock, as if getting harder was even possible, but he moans back at the feeling and the sight and the way you entirely come to take over his senses. A warmth coats his insides and he can so easily pinpoint the feeling as it contrasts yet compliments the hunger and the need for you that burns within him.

When you fall limp on the mattress after properly coming down from your high, your boyfriend brings his slick coated fingers up to his mouth and lets out a low, pornographic moan when he tastes you. He does his best to clean his fingers up with his tongue, not wanting to waste a drop of your arousal and all he can think about is how he wants more. He needs more.

But first, he takes on the task of ridding you of your clothes. You’re sweating and there’s a hint of discomfort in your face that he attributes to feeling too hot so he takes your hoodie off first, throwing it somewhere behind him and then he moves back to peel your joggers from you.

The sight of your ruined underwear makes his mouth water, wanting nothing more than to taste you properly again. He dips down and starts kissing up your thighs, drinking in the way your legs continue to shake with his ghostly touch. Every exhale that hits your skin makes you shiver and the tingles that run up your spine from his proximity now that you’re so sensitive makes him want to push yourself over the edge again.

So much so that when Matty gets closer to your cunt, he asks, “Can I have a taste, baby?”

He’s almost hurt when you shake your head no and pull his hair to bring him back up to your face. Moving back up, you see he’s frowning like he’s despaired over the denied opportunity to eat you out and have more of your taste on his tongue.

It makes you giggle, in return breaking his pout, and you cup his face carefully and you pull him in for a kiss that just screams thank you before you demand, “I need you to fuck me.”

The tone in which you say it makes it sound like a plea and Matty groans longingly hearing your wishes. There’s nothing he’d ever deny you, ever. And if you’re to ask for anything, he’d give you only the best.

And so he’s intent with the way he kisses you. His tongue meets yours instantly and makes you loudly mewl when you taste yourself on it. His fingers digging in the flesh of your waist whilst his other hand comes to wrap around your neck, keeping you in place and eliciting more moans out of your when he presses on the sides so he’s deliciously choking you.

You’re so sensitive though, you don’t think you can take any more without him being buried deep inside you so the moment he breaks the kiss and pulls back for oxygen, you beg, “Baby please, I need you.” Your hands cup his face with desperation that seeps through your pores, you whine, “Need you please, baby please.”

The guttural groan that rumbles from his chest and up his throat makes you clench around nothing. His lips come back on yours with force, it just screams passion and need, desperation to translate every feeling rushing through him in a way that you can understand without having to say those words he so badly wants to utter.

“My baby’s so fucking good, she says please.” He praises, his hand falling from your neck to join the other one on your waist and lifting your top up and off you so he can have you on show for him. “My baby’s so fucking beautiful and she’s all mine.”

His hot mouth instantly catches one of your nipples, your back arches in pleasure. One of your hands cradles the back of his head to keep him there as he sucks and flicks on your nipple, biting it before moving onto the next one, leaving you a moaning mess beneath him. Your other hand has a white knuckle grip on the sheets beside you, as you writhe under him becoming wetter than you already were after your orgasm and sending you into a frenzy as you feel your oversensitive self start going in the direction of another orgasm.

It isn’t only his mouth and his touch that’s ruining you, it’s those words of his leaving you dizzy. You had no idea it could get better than before but right now it’s proving that wrong and you don’t know how to gather your bearings when it comes to it. So you let yourself go, of your fears and any inhibitions.

“Baby, I need you.” You beg in between pants, “Please. You.” You don’t think you’d ever need anybody else. It’s him, and it’ll always be. You’re sure of it.

In a haste to prove that your wish is his command, Matty lets go of the skin he was attacking with a pop, licking it as if to soothe the abuse that is probably going to end up in a bruise. He starts a wake of kisses up your chest and neck until he finds your lips again and he kisses you with a sense of devotion that could make you shed tears. It’s reciprocated and he knows, in the way you hold him and how your body responds to him, the way you take your time and indulge in the feeling, the way your eyes flutter close and you sigh in utter bliss when he holds you.

When Matty breaks the kiss so he can shed himself of his last piece of clothing, he watches as your eyes shine with adoration and he swears his heart explodes in his chest. His heartbeat is erratic and a mess, entirely out of control under your spell, just like he is as you’ve bewitched him, body and soul. All he can see, hear, breathe or feel is you and he finds that being entirely drunk on you is nothing but a dream. A dream he wishes to never wake up from. He loves you so so much.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby.” He promises as he hovers over you again, his joggers now discarded somewhere in the room. He’s propped himself up with his forearm pressed on the mattress and his other hand comes to wrap around his length, bringing it to meet your core and rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “My baby deserves it, yeah? Always so good to me.”

He watches as the precum on the tip of his cock mixes with your arousal and the sight is so lewd he could bust right then and there. But you snap him out of his trance, feeling like he’s doing this to taunt you, “Matty- Baby, please.”

There’s no actual worded answer, since he just captures you in another kiss but it is brief for when he lines himself up and starts sinking into you, your mouths go slack and you can’t do much more than moan into each other’s mouths. Matty goes slowly until he bottoms out and when you’re filled to the brim of him, you let out a shaky breath.

Brushing the curls that are sticking to his sweaty forehead with a loopy smile, “Move baby, please. Need you.”

You’re still so sensitive and he can see it from the way your legs tremble around his hips, and he can feel it from the way you’re clenching around him. He doesn’t know if he’s gonna last if you keep talking like that, definitely not if you’re squeezing him like that and if you start drowning the room with those pretty sounds of yours. But god does he want to give it to you nice and slow, so you can feel every bit of each other, so you can savour every second and engrave it in your minds to never leave your memories.

“Perfect for me.” Matty mumbles as he draws his hips back slowly, until it’s only the tip that’s inside you, just to fill you to the hilt steadily again. “Like you were fucking made for me baby.” He sets the pace, slow but delicious and your moans mix in the most gorgeously pornographic harmony.

You can feel every vein and ridge, how he stretches you out and drags in and out is heavenly. He groans and moans with every thrust and when you start meeting him in the middle with the roll of your own hips, you both melt into absolute messes.

“Fuck, Matty.” A mewl leaves you, eyes rolling back in pleasure when he picks up the pace just slightly and hits that spot over and over, “Don’t stop baby. Just like that.”

“Right there?” He asks thrusting deliberately again and when you loudly moan in response, he sighs in bliss, “My girl. All mine. My perfect girl.”

The room is charged with this sense of worship that speaks for the both of you, bringing you closer without a need to use words. In the air, a hint of smoke still lingers but it’s lost and faint in between the aroma of sex, the sounds you’re making and the creak of the springs of your bed.

Your bodies stick together thanks to the sweat that coats them, the warmth that exudes out of your pores enveloping you together in the most staggering way, almost on the brink of being entirely overwhelming but not being suffocating, more like captivating in the way you’d only dreamed of finding.

You feel complete, as if you two were meant to fit together and there’s nothing that has ever felt more right. The way his hips snap against yours, the sound of the faint slap of your skin when they meet, your fingers tangled in his curls, him hiding in the crook of your neck, being so close to each other you feel the beating of your hearts and knowing it’s just right when they sync.

“Baby, I-.” You try to warn in between moans, your ankles wrapping around his lower back to keep him right there where he is.

Your boyfriend has no intention of moving though, being so close to the edge himself, “Me too baby. Fuck.”

“Need you.” You beg. It’s all you want, all you need. You have to feel him all over you, within you in every sense, just like he already is.

He shudders at your petition, not knowing how much longer he can last with that image in his head. His brows scrunch up as he tries to hold out for longer. His slow but hard pace doesn’t falter for a second, to give you what you want, to make your wishes come true and to have you cum with him because he can’t hold out any longer.

He groans, sweet nothings being drowned by the sound of your hips meeting, “Gonna give you all you ask for. Always.”

Matty’s hand moves under your thigh, moving it higher, opening you up more to him so his pelvis hits your clit and you jolt at the friction, and it only adds to make your approaching orgasm come faster and harder. Your back arches and you loudly moan in his ear as you cum, all you see is white and you can hear his moans far away like your soul has just exited your body.

“Oh fuck, baby!” His hips stutter as he cums, but he makes himself continue as he spills inside you, needing to give you all he can so you can ride out your orgasms. He wants to give you his all, his absolute best.

It hits him again all at once when he opens his eyes and sees you blissed out below him. He loves you so much, his heart beats entirely for you. Selfishly he wishes that all your smiles belong to him like this one does when you open your eyes and see him grinning at you.

He can’t stop himself from leaning down to kiss you sweetly, hoping that you can somehow understand the I love you he’s trying to say without actually telling you. He’s half sure you somehow understand and he’s happy with that for now so after another peck he lets himself fall limp over you, hiding himself into you when you start blinking your eyes open again.

Nothing is said afterwards, everything being spoken through with actions. His lips leaving sweet kisses on your chest and his fingers drawing faint circles on the sides of your waist. Your fingers brushing his hair back and off his forehead, nails scratching softly at his scalp and making him sigh in content.

It feels like every piece has fallen into place then and you know in your heart what that means. Your brain is fuzzy and you feel the best you’ve ever have, so the smile on your face is inevitable. You wish you could just bottle up the feeling in this very moment and cherish it forever, take a sip of it whenever you’re away from Matty because you know you’ll need it in the future.

However, you push those thoughts away, focusing on how perfect it feels to be held and cherished by him right now. Enjoying every second of this feeling that you know so well which you’ve finally uncovered with him.

A few minutes of silence go by, the only thing you hear is your settling heartbeat in your ears and you know Matty can hear it too, but you don’t mind. You hope he hears what he’s made of you, a fool for him and only him and you know you’d proudly admit it if anyone were to ask.

The feeling becomes even more prominent when he picks his head up and looks up at you with a loopy smile, one that you mirror before you even get a chance to hear him ask, “How does a shower and facemasks sound?”

“Sounds perfect.” You giggle, god this man knows the way to your heart, “Deal.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

There’s a chill in the air when you wake up, one that makes you want to sink back into your bed and never re-emerge. Half asleep, you turn over and pull your blanket and duvet further up so it covers your shoulders hoping to find refuge in the warmth you’ve created, but as you move, you’re pleasantly reminded you’re not the only one occupying your bed.

Even in his sleep Matty adjusts himself to have you next to him, needing you as close as possible. And it’s when you feel his arm wrap around your waist and pull you that bit closer that you blink your eyes open just to see if he’s woken up yet, not wanting to miss a second with him remembering he was going away today.

But he’s right there, next to you in bed with no intention of leaving anytime soon. His fingers digging into your waist as he holds you closer even in his sleep; not even deep in his slumber does he risk you getting away from his hold.

Seeing him so peaceful, lying beside you with his mouth parted as he softly exhales and his curls spilled over the cotton of the pillow case, you feel your heart squeeze in your chest. In the silence of the room, you find yourself holding your breath like your shaky exhales could disrupt the notion that just became crystal clear: you love him.

You deeply do, and it’s a love so easy that it just adds to the things that complete you. The way you love an iced coffee regardless of the weather, even if you scold yourself when your fingers go numb as you walk back home or to the office but your heart feels full at the taste of the cold bitterness running down your throat. The way you love listening to rain hit your windows when you’re hiding under your blankets in the warmth of your home.

He’s become home. Possibly the most important part of it. Somebody you can be entirely yourself with, who seems to cherish you the way you dreamed of someone doing as a kid. Matty’s the one who’s made you believe that love is possible again, something you don’t have to be so scared of anymore.

It’s strange, recognising the feeling you’d previously lost all hope of experiencing again after making peace with the fact that love was never destined for you. But now it’s resurfaced, and this time it's more intense, so much more overwhelmingly strong than it ever was years ago.

It’s so relieving knowing that you can have it back and with him but it also terrifies you when the feeling is a bitter reminder of how it had escaped your grasp so long ago, entirely against your will, by someone else’s hand. It’s not like you’re expecting Matty to be reckless with your heart, but experience has led you to be wary and despite wanting so badly to freefall into it all blindly and just driven by the fact that you know you love him, you owe it to yourself to tread these waters carefully.

You promise yourself that you’ll keep it to yourself for a while, make sure that this isn’t just a honeymoon phase with someone you really like and that you’re not just getting ahead of yourself. It’s difficult since after last night you know it all meant something more, maybe you just want that confirmation from Matty first.

So you’ll let yourself feel it, protecting your heart a little by keeping silent, but you hope you can tell him in every way other than verbally. You love him so much. You haven’t been this happy in a long time.

You know it’s a little selfish of you, but after realising you don’t want to waste another second of your time with him or not. You want to see his gorgeous brown eyes again, see that goofy smile you love so much and have him hold you like he never wants to let you go.

So you don’t give it a second thought when you lean in to him and peck his lips a few times. And because that’s nowhere near enough, you start pecking his whole face in an attempt to wake him up and it takes no time at all.

Not even a minute goes by until he’s tiredly blinking his eyes open, but even then you don’t stop your small attack. Not until that adorable grin takes over his face and he starts lowly chuckling, gently stroking the skin he’s found available to him on your waist.

He looks as happy as you feel, your heart so full that seeing him like this makes you think you could melt. Something that you practically do when Matty puckers his lips and you give into the desire to have your lips against his again.

It's slow and drawn out, but you would have him no other way. Kissing the man you love in bed fairly early on a Sunday morning, it’s everything you could ever want. If you’d have told your past self last year that this would be your future you’d have called yourself crazy, but you’re so beyond glad it’s real.

You’re in love. And the man who owns your heart pulls you closer into his body where you bury yourself into his neck and wrap your arms around him. Both of you lie there quietly for a while longer pretending there’s no rush at all and you have all the time in the world to stay cosied up to the person you love more than anything.

~*~*~*~

When you eventually get up, you both decide it’s a cereal in bed sort of morning, both of you opting for coco pops and a long cuddle after you finish. It feels bittersweet for both of you knowing he’s going which is quite sad of you both considering he’s only spending three full days away.

As you’re both dressing for the day, you offer to drive him to the airport but despite wanting you with him until the last possible second, he planned on leaving his car there until his early arrival to get him back home faster on Thursday, and eventually back to you in time to get ready for your party. This gives you some time to think about something, which ends up with you pathetically overthinking about a little thing that you really shouldn’t be worried about.

Yes it was too soon to tell him that you loved him, but giving him keys to your flat you thought was a small gesture to let him know that you trusted him enough that you want him to come and go as he pleases. Of course you would want that, you just didn’t know how to bring it up, so you put it off until the last possible second.

“Matty, before you go…” You stop him before he has a chance to collect his bag.

“Yeah?” He smiles, definitely glad that you’ve stopped him from leaving. He’ll take anything to stay around you for a little while longer.

“Last night you said that you were due in early on the ninth?” You double check, your anxiety peaking making you not quite believe your memory.

“Yeah,” He nods, “I think at like 3am.”

“I- I just wanted to,” You stumble on your words, before you take a deep breath and bite the bullet, “Well I wanted you to have these.” At that you dig into your pocket and pull out your spare set of keys and hold between the both of you. You can’t quite decipher the look on Matty’s face so you drop your gaze and play with the keys as you ramble.

“So you can let yourself in and, you know, come and go as you please. If you want them anyway.” Overthinking, you panic a little thinking he may believe you’re being selfish, “And I’m not giving you them so I don’t have to wake up to come and let you in- I just-” Pausing, you close your eyes for a second and after a deep breath you relax enough to say your simple truth, “Yeah, I just wanted you to have them.”

That was just about the cutest thing Matty has ever seen. Still avoiding his eye contact you don’t see how he’s started grinning like a fool. God he loves you so damn much, he wishes he could tell you already.

Your boyfriend steps forward and gently grabs both sides of your face tilting your head up so he can see your pretty eyes again. When he does, his thumbs caress your cheeks as he grins, “You’re so damn cute, baby.”

“I’m not,” You press your palm against your forehead, close your eyes and whisper, “That was so awkward, I’m sorry.”

“You're not awkward.” He giggles, wrapping his arms around your waist, trapping you in a hug, “You're adorable being all nervous.”

“Don’t embarrass me before you leave.” You mumble as you hide yourself into his neck, your arms wrapping around his waist and holding him tightly.

“I’m not,” He grins, kissing the side of your head, “I just love it.” I love you. It’s all he wants to tell you.

That statement has you chuckling, knowing just how much he likes to make you feel all flustered. But you can’t help but whine a little, “I feel like we've done things so backwards.”

Matty’s eyebrows pinch together a little, pulling back from the hug just enough to look at you curiously, “How'd you mean?”

“We’ve lived together for almost a month and now I'm nervous to give you a key to my flat,” Not to mention I’m in love with you is on the tip of your tongue, “It's weird.”

“We’re weird.” Matty grins, pulling you against him a little more and kissing you sweetly after he says, “Doesn’t mean I don’t love what we have any less.”

Your heart thuds twice as fast hearing him say that. It makes you want to tell him that your heart is well and truly in the palm of his hands. That you’re his, that he’s it for you. That you love him.

But it's far too soon. Far too risky.

Matty graciously accepts the keys you once again offer him, and he quickly adds them to his own keyring as he teases, “Thank you for giving me them, baby. I promise I won’t sell them on the black market and leak your address.”

That has you giggling but you play along and nod sincerely, “Thank you. Appreciate that.”

Matty chuckles again, pocketing the keys again and wrapping you in another big hug. He squeezes you tight as he declares, “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more.” You mumble into his shoulder, holding him even tighter not wanting him to go.

It's pathetic of you considering these goodbyes will probably be the easiest you face. Him only being gone for a few days instead of a few months at a time which you’re aware you’ll one day have to face. Today just feels that little bit more challenging because you’ve realised just how much he means to you and you’re scared to let him go. All you want is to wrap yourself up in bed with him again.

“Doubt it.” Matty hums, knowing there’s certainly no way that’s possible.

“We’re so soppy.” You giggle a little before scorning yourself, “Who have I become?”

“A simp.” Matty declares, looking at you with a cheeky knowing grin, “But you've always been one of those for me, haven’t you?”

Gasping, you grab his hands to try and pry him off your waist as you scorn him, “You know too much, get outttt!”

“But I don’t want to.” Matty whines, tightening his grip so you can’t get away and he’s pleased when you relent and let him keep ahold of you. He buries his head into your neck as he says, “I’ll cancel on Jack and stay right here.”

As much as you would absolutely love for him to stay here and kiss your neck until he’s bruised your skin, you don’t let him cancel his plans. Your fingers wind up in his curls and you tug a little on them so he shows his face as you try and make him feel better about his trip, “You’ll be back before you know it, and I’m only ever on the other end of the phone.”

“Promise you’ll answer?” Matty puts his best puppy dog eyes on for that question.

You grin, “Always.” As if you’d ever ignore him.

“Unless you’re asleep.” Matty adds, knowing you far too well.

But even so, you’d give up sleep to talk to the man you love. But of course you need to keep his ego under control so you don’t let him know that just yet.

“Unless I’m asleep.” You grin, happily playing with the curls at the nape of his neck as you grin, “I’ve trained you so well. Such a good boy.”

Matty squeezes you tighter hearing that, a physical and verbal warning, “Don’t say that or we'll be going right back into your room.”

And as much as you would absolutely love to have him begging for you to praise him back in your bedroom, you’re all too aware he has to be on a plane in the next few hours.

“Let’s not think about that before you're racing to catch your flight.” You chuckle, trying your best now to get him excited, “Come on, you've not seen Jack in ages, you'll love it once you're out there.”

“I suppose.” Matty sighs, but he has to stop himself from carrying on to sincerely say but not as much as I love being with you.

You hum and smile knowing you’re right and you adore the way Matty doesn’t seem to be able to stop himself from stealing a kiss and then planting so many more all over your face until you’re giggling like a schoolgirl. Hearing your laugh is one of his favourite sounds on the planet, and he’s glad he’s got to experience it one more time before he goes.

Once the attack of kisses ceased, you go on your tiptoes to trap him in a proper one. A kiss to express what you can’t quite let yourself say yet but you hope he feels regardless. It’s sweet, certainly loving, and you adore the way you both melt into each other and drag it out not really wanting it to ever be over with.

Unfortunately, it does end with Matty saying a bittersweet, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Have a safe flight.” You smile, reluctantly slipping out of his grasp to get one of his bags for him, “Please text me when you’re boarding and when you get there.”

“As soon as I’m downstairs I’ll be texting you, baby.” Matty smiles, “Don’t have to worry about that.”

For a minute you say that you’ll come down to see him off but he makes you stay put, not wanting you to get cold. That and he’s sure it’ll be easier to drive away from you if you’re not actually waving him off.

After collecting his bags, and both stand at your open door, you whisper, “See you soon.” not wanting to actually say goodbye at all. Thankfully, you manage to steal one last kiss which your boyfriend is more than pleased about, despite it being that little bit harder to go.

“See you soon baby.” He just about whispers against your lips before he pulls away and he heads out of your flat towards the stairs.

Of course, you play the lovesick housewife for a second, watching as he leaves at your door. It’s simpy of you, yes, but you’re in love and you don’t even feel a little shy about it when he catches you. Matty glances back just before he’s out of your line of sight, and he blows a kiss at you which you catch and blow one right back to him with a little wave.

The I love you’s stuck in each of your throats, neither daring to utter the words as you disappear from the other’s view.

~*~*~*~ 9th February 2023 ~*~*~*~

In the short time you were away from each other, rarely did you feel out of contact considering there was an ocean and a five hour time difference between you. Truthfully, you felt closer to Matty than ever.

With nothing to do at home other than prep for the Brits, which at this point you’ve met most of the attendees at various events now, making your research light work, you’ve spent most of your time messaging or Facetiming your boyfriend.

Daily pictures were sent of you both in your various get ups, Matty demanding ones from you even if it was the same joggers as the day before just because he wanted to see you. And when he sent you the multiple options he had to wear, asking you to please help him choose, you were more helpful about taking the piss about him packing so many clothes for a three day trip to New York.

Matty would surprise you with pictures of random places around New York, ones he stumbled upon on his walks around the city, which were always accompanied by some text along the lines of Doesn’t this place look sick?! Saving it so we can come here next time we’re in New York xxxx

He was making it so hard for you not to call him just to yell I love you!!!

Before you knew it, the days had passed by and he was at the airport waiting for his plane home. Something which you pretended not to be too excited about despite knowing you were about to get the man you love back.

Sleep didn’t come easily to you that night, like it did most other nights. No, instead you were restless, tossing and turning all night, probably a little too excited that you were getting your man back. You thought sleep would help pass the time faster but instead it dragged it out, made the wait so much more antagonising.

You think it might have been around 2am when you eventually got to sleep, which is painfully close to the time he was due to land which in the morning you would scold yourself for not managing to stay up for. But it would not matter soon, when he’d open your door with that key you gave him before leaving and he’d come to be the best interruption to your sleep.

Matty didn’t hesitate for a second to drive to your flat from the airport, wanting nothing more than to curl up next to you in bed and stay there for as long as possible. The drive felt longer with how tired he was, despite sleeping on the plane, but thankfully the 50 minute drive he managed to do in 35 thanks to the lack of traffic and breaking a few speed limits.

A massive smile made its way onto his face as he pulled his keys from the ignition and saw the ones that would allow him into your home. He felt so lucky, it made him want to get you a key cut to his at the earliest opportunity. He’s a little disappointed in himself that he didn’t think of exchanging keys before you did.

Despite practically running up the stairs to your floor when he opens the building with the fob, he’s extremely quiet when he opens your front door. He’s not surprised when everything is dark and silent in your living room, he expects nothing less than you being fast asleep in bed which when he finds is true, his heart soars.

Matty finds you all cosy in bed, entirely passed out, your heated blanket that he got you for Christmas wrapped up around you and he can’t help but grin at the sight of you. He’s so happy to be back but he can’t help but quickly and gently brush the few strands of hair that are over your forehead away so he can place a kiss there.

He’s thankful when he doesn’t wake you up, knowing too well what you’re like without proper sleep. Not wasting more time, Matty strips himself down to his boxers and gently pulls the covers back and slowly eases himself down onto the bed in hopes of not waking you.

However, the cold air hitting your skin must have made you stir because before Matty even has the chance to pull the covers up over him or turn towards you, he hears a tired but heartfelt, “You came.”

He could cry hearing how surprised you sounded, as if he wouldn’t come when he’d already promised. Matty grins as he shuffles closer to you, raising his arm as he sees you moving to him so he can cuddle you properly, saying, “Of course I did baby, you asked me to.”

Of course you come and steal a kiss, finding his lips surprisingly easily considering your eyes are closed and you’re still half asleep, and Matty would chuckle if he didn’t find you so damn adorable. Even more so when you practically lie on top of him, hiding yourself into his neck and declaring a mumbled, “Missed you.”

“Missed you so much more.” He whispers, pulling the covers up for you more so you don’t get cold, “Go back to sleep.”

He feels you hum against his neck, entirely satisfied with that instruction, and he’s sure there’s a faint smile on your lips as you mumble, “I’m so glad you’re back.”

Matty’s sure his heart leaps from his chest hearing that. It certainly beats faster and he can’t help but hug you closer and kiss the top of your head, “Me too baby, so much.”

It’s about 20 minutes before your boyfriend’s eyes start closing, but by then you’re long gone, back into the deep sleep he disturbed you from. So Matty thinks it’s safe enough for him to whisper, “I love you.” to the girl of his dreams.

~*~*~*~

“You’re so pretty.” It falls from Matty’s lips for at least the third time in the past hour as he sits on the toilet seat lid and watches as you do your make up.

His words never fail to make you smile like a fool, so you stop doing your eyebrows to grin at him through the mirror, “You’re too cute.”

“No, I’m being serious, you're so stunning.” He insists, his curls bounce softly as he shakes his head in disbelief of your beauty.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. It’s unfair how much of an effect he has on you, your stomach flips and your chest tightens at the amount of love you feel for him. “Stop making me flustered.” Is what you mumble before going back to stare at yourself to continue your makeup.

Matty is ready to go after he had taken a shower and put on a suit that had you biting your bottom lip when he walked back into the bathroom as you did your hair. So he’s patiently waiting for you to finish getting ready, just staring at you in awe and completely in love.

At first, he had been on his phone as you loosely curled the ends of your hair but when you started doing your makeup, he quickly forgot about the device to gawk at you. After audibly voicing just how gorgeous you were and you jokingly asked for him to stop making you flush, he kept quiet and stuck to just drinking in every little thing you did. Like the way you softly and precisely apply your eyeshadow, how you hold your breath and lean in closer to the mirror as you apply eyeliner to your waterline, how you cock your head to the side to make sure you’ve done a good job with your highlighter.

But soon a soft frown appears on your face and before he can ask about it, you’re the one to say, “Can you help me please?”

“With what baby?” Matty replies softly, quickly rising from his place to walk towards you.

Your boyfriend walks up until his chest is pressed against your back and he drops a little kiss on your shoulder, attentively listening as you explain, “You used to do really good smudged smokey eyeliner and I want a bit of that but I can’t do it.”

Another peck is pressed on the skin of your shoulder and then you feel the vibration of his understanding hum. He straightens up to look at you through the mirror and asks, “Do you have any vaseline?”

You break eye contact to drop your gaze on the mess you’ve made by the sink, “I think so… here.”

Handing him the small container, he takes a short step back and wraps his hand around your waist to turn you around to face him. He’s so smooth with his actions and he knows it, a smirk plastered on his face when you come face to face with him, one that you kiss away with a short peck before hurrying him to work his magic. You’ve already put the eyeliner on but trying to smudge it out with your brush like you thought was the way to do it hadn’t worked so you’re just waiting for your boyfriend to do what he used to do for his own eyeliner back in the day.

Matty opens the lid and dips his finger slowly to gather enough for both of your eyes. Your eyes flutter close when his finger comes up to coat your eyelids with a bit of vaseline to rub on your eyeliner. He smiles feeling your hands clutching softly onto his waist, your fingers tapping his clothed skin in a rhythm that he can’t recognise.

It takes about a minute or two for him to be satisfied with his work, and you smile when hearing him mumble to himself as he rubs delicately but precisely, trying his best to make both eyes look as similar as possible.

At the loss of his touch on your eyelids and the silence that envelops you, you open your eyes slowly and meet with your boyfriend flashing you the sweetest of smiles.

“Bit too much, here,” Matty uses the excess on his finger to run it along your lips, smoothing them for you and he smiles when they have a pretty shine to them and his job is done.

It takes everything in you not to smile as he does it. But he can see the smile in your eyes as he watches you press your lips together to make sure they’re evenly coated. Your boyfriend grins, “Gorgeous.” before quickly dipping down and pecking your lips.

“Thank you, baby.” You say before turning around to see yourself again, and to say you’re amazed with how well he did was an understatement.

Your mouth falls open in awe of how good it looks, and the giddiness inside you translates into a loud gasp as you smooth a few strands of hair off your face, “It looks so good!”

Matty smiles bright and proud behind you, his hands on your waist squeeze there a little before he reiterates, “Look stunning baby.”

With the heat that rushes up to your cheeks, you’re not sure you’d need to apply any blush but you still do, and after applying mascara on, you’re ready to put on your party clothes.

Amelia and you had planned your outfits to be entirely Valentine’s day related, so while she was wearing a dress with hearts that looked like little balloons, you had decided to go for a little red number which consisted of a red corset and mini skirt. You had little white wings to go with it and knee high stockings that would be clipped to some garter belt suspenders to make your cupid look sexy.

Looking at your reflection in the full body length mirror in the corner of your room, you know you look hot but your boyfriend is staring at you like you’ve handed him the moon and the stars. Matty is shamelessly letting his gaze run up and down your figure, biting his bottom lip as if containing every sinful thought he’s having about you.

You’re fully expecting some lewd comment to come from him with the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark with lust and hunger that make your insides melt in a familiar heat that has you excited to come back home already. Yet, what he says is a generous, “Want me to clip these for you?” pointing at the suspenders still unclipped over your thighs.

“Please.” Your nod is eager, matching the desperation underlying his words.

You have to suppress a laugh at the speed in which he leans forward as he’s sitting on the edge of your bed and starts clipping the suspenders to the top of your stockings.

He does the leg closest to him first, keeping his touch slow and ghostly, making goosebumps erupt in your skin and tingles to run up your inner thighs and almost causing you to shiver. But to clip the ones on your other leg, he gets up from his seat only to kneel in front of you, making a show of looking up at you through his lashes as he blindly clips the one on the back of your thigh.

Raising your brows at him, your tongue pokes out to lick at your lips and when the first clasp is done, he moves his hands slowly towards the front of your thighs earning a smirk from you. This time he has to look down to clip it, but when he’s done, his fingers dig harshly into your skin for a quick second before he groans, “God, you’re so hot.”

Before you can even register his words, which almost sounded like a moan, he dips his head into your leg and bites the flesh of your thigh. His teeth sink into your skin with a force that makes pleasure rush up your spine and you choke out a gasp. Matty hears you and you feel him chuckle against your skin, your words have completely died on your tongue so he drops a kiss over the bite mark he left and slowly lifts himself up to stand up in front of you.

The corners of his mouth are lifted into a devilish grin that you know is only promising of trouble. The way he raises his brows expectantly is enough to snap you out of your trance and that’s when you scorn him, “What did I say about not making me flustered?”

If you had known what he’s about to say, you wouldn’t have asked. “I’ll stop as long as you’re fully aware I’m fucking you in these when we get home.”

Your jaw clenches in an attempt to stop it from dropping at his words, “You’re no help.”

Your boyfriend doesn’t say a thing, his hands go from your waist to the bottom of your skirt to adjust it merely an inch, but when he says “Turn around.” you still obediently listen.

Matty does the same when your back is to him, pulling your skirt in perfect place before dropping a trail of kisses from your shoulder up your neck until he reaches your ear and whispers, “All done.”

“Thank you.” You shiver against his chest, actually thinking about fully missing the party just to indulge in his touch and his kisses and that promise (more like a statement) he made just a few seconds ago.

“Anytime baby.” Matty grins at you, and just as you’re about to move to look into the mirror again, a hard slap to your arse stops you in your tracks. You gasp and look back at your boyfriend who’s grin has only got bigger.

Before you can even get any words out, he defends himself, “You can scold me all you want, but you enjoyed it.”

His teasing words have you speechless, and after not having a single comeback to throw his way you bite your tongue and carry on getting ready. Your stylist, Chloe, Facetime’s you at one point when you tell her that you’re ready once you have your ‘solemate’ Lamoda heels on which you adore because the base of them is a red love heart.

Thankfully Chloe approves of how both you and Matty look together and she even applauds Matty’s handy work with your smudged eyeliner. So much you know he’s going to give her a hug later to thank her, and now you’re just waiting for the chicken nuggets you put in the oven (yes, you’re self aware that that’s predictable and cheesy of you - Matty has already laughed at you for it) to be cooked before you book yourselves a taxi so you get there earlier than everyone else.

As you wait, you make some final touches to yourselves before you ask Matty to take some pictures of you. He happily does and makes you giggle as he turns it into a full photoshoot.

He makes you lie down on your bed, standing on your stool to get a good angle and he has an absolute ball directing you into positions he wants. At one point you get a little too into it trying to tease him and he tells you to stop before he ruins your makeup, which with his skills you have no doubt he would do.

After that threat you end up taking cute couple pictures, a few with your Polaroid and film camera before you get as many as you like on your phones. Your selfies are adorable, you’re being unable to stop yourself from changing your lock screen immediately to the picture of you both smiling at your phone but Matty’s chin is resting on your shoulder, his grin is all gooey, and his mop of curls is messy and unruly just the way you love it.

You adore the picture just as much as you love the man in it. Even a quick glance at it reminds you of the way he squeezed you so tightly from behind as you took the picture. He melts your heart entirely.

As you’re thinking about which picture to post on your story, your boyfriend is being vain for a moment and taking his own mirror selfies to send to the boys. But once he sends it off and gets bullied for being a simp for you he pockets his phone and focuses on himself in the mirror.

You don’t mind your view at all, you watch as your boyfriend moves his curls a few times trying to get it into the place he deems fit. He sighs, settling for what he thinks is mediocre, and he glances at you as he tells you, “I know your thoughts already but I really wanna gel my hair back right now.”

“No,” Your face falls entirely, not wanting to see that mop of curls scraped back, “Definitely not.”

“But why?” He whines, coming back up to you, pulling you into him in hopes proximity will persuade you, “Don’t you think I look good?”

“Matthew,” You sigh, fixing his tie so it’s a little more in line with his top button, “In that suit you’d look like Patrick Bateman if you gelled your hair.”

You were hoping that your statement would deter him from that cursed hair gel, but you watch as his eyes light up, and immediately you know you’ve said the wrong thing. The smile that grows on Matty’s lips is almost like he’s been told he’s won the Euro Millions, and although you adore it when he smiles, you hate that Patrick Bateman of all people has brought that to his face.

At the same time you say, “No.” Matty excitedly nods, “Yes.”

“Matty, no.” You say louder, as he practically vibrates in your arms.

He excitedly grins, “I would look so fucking good as Patrick Bateman.”

“Yeah you would,” You admit, raising your eyebrows as you say, “But not at my fucking Valentine’s party.”

Matty chuckles, pulling you firmly against him by his hand on the small of your back, and he smirks as he says in a low tone, “Halloween this year is sorted.”

You tut at that, narrowing your eyes slightly, sarcasm thick in your voice, “Oh, such a great couples costume.”

Your boyfriend grins now, cooing, “Awhhhh, you wanna do a couples costume.”

And it’s not just because you want to dress up together as a couple that makes him feel all gooey inside, it's the fact that Halloween is months from now and you still picture yourself with him. It makes him feel all tingly inside, and he’s so happy that by the time the both of you get to October 31st he will definitely be allowing himself to declare that he loves you openly and proudly.

“Yeah well,” You sigh, grinning though as you say, “Guess I’ll have to ask Ross to do a couples costume now.”

Matty’s jaw falls at that, eyes narrowing in an instant as he tells you, “No.”

“Well then,” You chuckle, “No Bateman for you.”

“We shall see.” Your boyfriend smiles, looking into your gorgeous eyes that stand out even more now he’s done your eyeliner.

He can’t help but lean in to kiss you, loving nothing more than you being in his arms and his lips against your own. He hopes he can feel how much he loves you, how content he is with you having his heart in the palm of your hands.

And seeing your goofy smile when you both pull away from the kiss hits him like he’s just realised his feelings all over again. God, he loves you so fucking much.

Matty watches as you press your lips together for a second before you inevitably ask, “Can I please put some eyeliner on you?”

“So it’s a no to Bateman but a yes to emo me at your party?” Matty can’t help but teasingly ask.

It’s somewhere between embarrassment and shame that you find yourself hating to admit, “You looked fit as fuck with it on back in the day.”

It takes everything in him not to laugh, knowing that you still can’t quite stop getting too in your head about it when he reminds you of your obsession with him. He goes easy on you, just grinning at you before he kisses you once more.

“Yeah come on then baby,” Matty chuckles, pulling you back into the bathroom so you can do his makeup in better lighting, “Lets make your dreams come true.”

You follow obediently, but not before half heartedly saying under your breath, “Arsehole.”

~*~*~*~

The moment you step foot in the venue, you’re blown away seeing your and Amelia’s vision come to life perfectly. Heart balloons take over every inch of the ceiling by the main entrance to the cafe, the strings attached to them come draping down like a curtain that you have to walk through to get to the main event. A few mirrorballs hiding in between the balloons, glistening in the lights and bathing the place with shimmer.

To your left you see the big red letterbox that you hoped your guests would actually interact with like Amelia and you had envisioned when you came up with the idea of having it at the party.

The bar is filled with spirits and mixers and you can see the coasters you’d made for the party all waiting to be used right by the endless amounts of Ciroc vodka bottles that you’d been sent after the brand had wanted to be part of your little soiree, all of them decorated with red, white and pink hearts and the name of your event on the side.

There is a big square table with a blue velvet cloth where the big ice sculpture resides: it’s a giant heart with an arrow going through it, with ‘Amelia’s Valentines Affair’ written on it. That was the name of the event as you had thought, since you were no longer single, it would be only appropriate to make this party along with the holiday all about Amelia and play onto the fact that she was still looking for the one as she did when she went on your chicken shop dates.

Naturally, your best friend had loved the idea of being the main focus of it all so even the photobooth that you had at the back of the cafe, hidden away in a corner, had been branded as ‘Amelia’s Valentines Affair’.

It had been so much fun coming up with the names of the drinks for the party, and choosing the catering menu, as well as cake tasting for the triple tier cake that was hidden away in the kitchen of the cafe but for which you were so excited to bring out and share with everyone who would attend.

When Amelia comes out of the kitchen and sees you two, she runs to envelope the both of you in a hug. Instantly, you and your best friend start screeching like schoolgirls just because of how excited you are for the evening, and thankfully you don’t have to wait long because it’s merely fifteen minutes later that the first bunch of guests walk through the doors of the cafe.

With the DJ playing good tunes that had everyone dancing as they sipped on their themed cocktails, sneaking away to the photobooth, taking shots of vodka out of the ice sculpture and taking loads of pictures and videos on your phone, the night slipped away.

Before you know it, the gorgeous cake is being brought out by your best friend and she gets a microphone that she taps three times before she speaks into it.

“Hello everyone! Thank you so much for coming and celebrating Valentine’s day with us!” Claps and cheers erupt in the room, wolf whistles that Amelia entertained by flipping her hair and fanning herself like the attention was making her flustered, “Thank you, thank you. I hope you’ve had a lovely time! I was hoping to find the one for me here, but it seems I’m still stuck third wheeling for this hot Cupid that was rudely stolen from me.” Your best friend rolls her eyes playfully while pointing at you and Matty. A chorus of laughter comes from the crowd, your own giggles getting lost in the sea of chuckles.

Your boyfriend’s hand comes to squeeze your waist and you get all flustered at the attention you’ve got on you two after your best friend’s words. So many people had come up to you and Matty tonight, completely surprised to see you kissing and dancing, admitting that they thought it was a joke for the sake of the date you’d put out with him or something like Aitch and Amelia’s situation.

It would be an understatement to say it hadn’t filled you with a sense of pride to admit that you were in fact together and not for show, your heart bursting at its seams when Matty would smirk and look at you for a second before looking back at whoever was in front of you and saying, “Got incredibly lucky, didn’t I? Can’t believe she’s mine.”

Amelia’s hand waving in the air, as if dismissing your poor job as Cupid, and continuing her speech is what brings you out of your trance. “It’s okay, this just means I can keep taking hot dates to the chicken shops and it’s good that’s my favourite thing! Erm, yeah, that’s all. Thank you all for coming and, what did Marie Antoinette say? Let them eat cake!”

The music resumes right after that, but a crowd gathers around the table as you and Amelia do the honours of cutting the cake. You two feed each other the first piece and end up laughing uncontrollably when you smudge a bit of frosting on each other’s faces. Soon after, you start handing out pieces for everyone to enjoy the delicious dessert and end the night in the best way.

When you finally get home and take your heels off, your shoulders hang in relief. Matty scoops you up in his arms the second his own shoes are off, and he all but runs into your room, dropping you on top of your bed softly only to pounce on your lips with a delicious desperation that you welcome eagerly and match with ease.

The second the kiss breaks for you to take a breath, you quickly mumble, “Wait.” making him get off you and going back out your room to get your bag.

Ever since you’d gone into the photobooth for the first time tonight, you’d wanted to go back home and put up the strips of pictures you took beside the pictures you already have littered around your room.

Matty watches from your bed as you put the photobooth pictures up, and a huge smile breaks on his face when he sees you take a step back after you’re pleased with the set up and sigh in content at the moments captured in the printed strips. He pushes himself off your bed, taking two short steps towards you until he’s pressed flush against your back, dipping his head to attack your neck with kisses that you encourage as you tilt your head to the opposite side to allow him more space to burn with those lips of his.

A day celebrating love with you couldn’t be complete without properly worshipping you, hoping the kisses he leaves all over you skin as he sinks down to his knees in front of you are enough for you to know he loves you, he adores you, he would do anything for you.

His mouth is tantalising as it roams your body, as well as his touch and the force in which his fingers dig into your waist when he guides you back on the bed where he makes you lie on your back for him.

It doesn’t take long for your legs to be thrown over his shoulders, for his lips to leave a fiery trail of kisses up your inner thighs and make you a mess of desire, throbbing and aching just for him.

Those three words itch on his tongue, begging to be left out, to let you hear them loud and proud but he swallows them the same way he swallows your moans when he traps you in yet another hungry kiss after he’s run up your body with his lips.

And you surely almost let the words slip when he brings you the most delicious pleasure and release over and over again, so intent and attentive to every one of your needs. Every sound you make only pushes him to get more out of you until tears run down your cheeks from overstimulation, ones that he kisses away so delicately your mind is spinning from the combination of it all.

There’s passion and hunger, desperation and lust; but there’s softness and intention, an attentiveness that could make you cry just by thinking about it all over again, and love, so much of it that has you drunker than any alcohol could ever have you.

The smiles on your faces don’t leave you when you fall asleep in each other’s arms, your holds so tight as if there was any way of being snatched away from each other, your legs tangled too just in case.

And you dream of each other because there’s not enough time in the day to spend together, your subconscious incapable of more, replete with each other. And you wouldn’t dare ask to have it another way ever again, not in this lifetime or the ones to come next.

~*~*~*~ 11th February 2023 ~*~*~*~

“Hi.” Charli says once she’s in front of you both with a microphone in hand.

You and Amelia wear the biggest smiles seeing the singer, she looks absolutely stunning and you know you’ll gush about it once the interview is over. The white sheer dress she wears hides nothing and you can only be in absolute awe of her confidence because you would never. A true legend and icon is Miss Charli XCX.

“How are you?” Amelia beats you to ask.

“I’m good. I’m so excited because I'm here to win an EGOT tonight.” Charli smiles brightly and you have to bite your tongue not to giggle. She continues with her EGOT talk saying, “I’ve won none…”

It takes everything in you and your best friend to not burst out laughing when she says that.

“Yet.” The three of you say at the same time and smile at each other.

You’re quick to put in your two cents about it, “But that’s- because there's a conspiracy against you!”

And you’re glad Charli agrees with ease, “I’m- There is! That’s actually true.”

But you wave her off like she has nothing to worry about, “And it's fine because I've brought my sledgehammer because I know you love… blood.”

Amelia can’t help the cackle she lets out after the second of silence passes after your words, laughter in which Charli joins with the same enthusiasm and you end up giggling like an idiot too. You love the popstar possibly too much, and after spending downtime with her on the boy’s UK tour you’ve never felt so close to her, it is truly no hardship at all to have this interview, after all it's more of a fun conversation.

Once you’ve gained back your composure, Amelia, looking lovely in her Union Jack dress, is the one to get things back on track, “Do you think an award show is a good place to fall in love?”

“Yes!” Charli doesn’t waste a second to answer and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face when she looks at your best friend and states, “And actually I think there is a real chance with you and Andrew Garfield.”

You hum and nod, completely on Charli’s side about it and so the singer adds, “It’s real, like I'm just like shipping it.”

Before you can audibly agree and tease your best friend for the camera, Amelia looks at it and clarifies with that awkward look on her face she plays off so well, “I just wanna say that Andrew Garfield is not nominated for a Brit Award.” You see members of your crew laughing at that, and it takes everything in you to maintain your little persona.

“Well, you should’ve brought him as your date.” Charli raises her brows as if scolding Amelia for that.

Amelia scrambles for an answer, mouth opening and closing as she struggles to find her words and the only excuse she can eventually find is, “I don’t have his number.”

The popstar gasps at the information but you’re quick to put your best friend on full blast, “We do have his manager’s number…”

That earns a scoff from Charli, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, “Girl, you need to lock. That. Down. Immediately.”

“I agree.” You nod with a ‘told you so’ expression on your face that your best friend sighs about.

There isn’t another chance to continue teasing your best friend for she resumes the interview, introducing one of the things you’d planned for when it was Charli’s turn to show up on the red carpet with you two, “We actually got you a present.”

“Really?” The singer asks, puzzled by what of all the things you’ve got behind you on the shelves could it be.

“Yeah.” You nod as Amelia goes to retrieve the canned cocktail you’d picked out for her, a passion fruit martini sounded very Charli to you two.

“This is very me.” Charli says as she cracks the can open, holding it out, away from her gorgeous dress, you and Amelia grin at each other before flashing your smiles at the singer.

“Oooo, it’s fizzy that, isn’t it?” Charli says at the same time Amelia deadpans, “Oh my god.”

Taking a sip, both of you watch her intently to get her reaction and as Amelia hands her the mic back so that Charli can tell you, “Well, it's very warm.”

You press your lips together not to laugh, and Amelia stays silent for a split second before just offering her a meek, “Sorry.”

Charli still takes another sip of the drink, because it tastes really good despite it very much not being the ideal temperature. But then her eyes fall behind you to the trinkets you have lined up which somehow make sense to bring to the Brits’ red carpet, and that’s when she sees them.

Pointing behind you, Charli grins, “I love this! ‘I hate Matty Healy’ but I love him, but it’s like quite-”

Amelia reaches behind you to grab one for the pop icon, and she holds it out for her to reveal the full top. “That’s something I made.” Amelia announces, awkwardly smiling between Charli and the camera.

“Did you?” The singer asks with a smirk, she stares at you as soon as Amelia nods and confirms with a quick and proud, “Yeah.”

“You seen him yet?” Charli is so amused by the way you’re avoiding eye contact by staring at the display of ‘I Hate Matty Healy’ tops.

To your left you hear your best friend reply, “No, he’s avoiding me.” and the soft, “Ahhh.” that Charli lets out, like she understands the situation.

But of course the singer wasn’t going to let the opportunity to tease you pass too easily, “I’m sure with your best mate around he’s bound to find a way to get over here.” A big smirk tugs at the corners of her lips, “Didn’t leave her alone for two seconds on tour.”

That’s enough to have you turning your head back to face her, a scoff escaping your lips before you quip back, “You act like you weren’t attached to George’s hip.”

“Oh yes, I was.” She says back as she flips her long hair behind her shoulder, “I’m a proud groupie, I will admit that.”

Fortunately, she gets distracted by taking the top from Amelia and admiring the printed hate message on the front of the white top. She chuckles, “I might have to put this on if my nipples aren’t allowed on the cameras.”

You still shouldn’t have let your guard down that easily, because when she cheekily adds, “Do you sleep in one of these Y/N/N?” you’re fully taken by surprise.

Your jaw falls and Amelia snorts in laughter, which turns into a cackle when all you manage to answer is an out of character, “Get fucked.”

You know you should’ve been more careful when choosing your words when Charli turns them against you by quipping back with, “You keep one on when you’re doing that too?”

The loud gasp that comes from you is enough to send the two girls beside you into a fit of loud laughter. They’re so amused by it all that they completely ignore you as you scold the singer, “Charlotte!”

Even your crew is laughing at you, so you have no backup from anyone. Jokes on them though, this will be getting taken out of the final edit.

“Oh you’re going to fucking die when he comes over, he’s not going to play along.” The singer warns you when she stops laughing, patting under her eyes softly to make sure the tears that lined her eyes from laughter haven’t messed anything up.

You roll your eyes, “He’s getting no interaction.” And you really have to hold back from crossing your arms and stomping your feet like a child so she knows you’re serious when you say, “Can we get back to our interview please, bitch?”

She’s insufferable though, your tone only amusing her further so she plays on it by calling you out, “Oh, she's getting feisty.”

With another sigh, you put on a bright smile again, ignoring the way Amelia and Charli snigger as you go up to the display behind you and grab something. “And to leave, I’ve just got some poppers.” You show it to Charli and the camera, an awkward but oddly proud smile on your face at the pun you know the singer and her fans will get when they watch the interview.

“Oh, oh fun. Fun.” Charli says with faux excitement, seeing the party popper in your hand.

It gets even more awkward when you announce, “Which I will pop.” as you stare right into the camera, Amelia grabs the party popper you’re handing her and she does the same as you with her own awkward smile stuck on her face.

Charli nods and mirrors you and Amelia, “Okay.”

Your last frame with Charli is of the three of you smiling at camera as you and Amelia pop the party poppers, while Charli holds up her new top. It’s so underwhelming and the silence around you makes it so much funnier, you really try hard not to break character and ruin the shot.

When the tiny confetti hits the floor, you and Amelia break the scene, turning to Charli and hugging her while thanking her for coming over. The two of you shower her in compliments which she gives back to you, she even makes you and Amelia twirl in your places to show her every bit of your dresses and you blush when she says she’ll be stealing you from Matty later.

Sadly, her team tells her she needs to go, and after a promise of seeing the two of you inside when you eventually get to the table you’re all sharing, she sing-songs, “I love youuuu!”

You wave at her as she starts walking away, matching the tone she used to reciprocate the farewell, “Mmm love you too!”

A soft frown appears on her face as she points a warning finger, “Don’t flirt too hard with my boyfriend, I’ll cut you both!”

And as payback for all the teasing she put you through earlier, you sing-song back with the fakest smile, “No promises!”

Charli flips you off behind her back and the last she hears before disappearing to the next media section of the carpet is your loud laughter. And your night continues on.

This red carpet is particularly tricky, your little set being in the corner after the actual carpet where the celebs were getting photographed and where Roman Kemp and the other presenters were doing their bit for the livestream, but before the attendees made their way into the O2. So by the time people were passing you, it felt like they were mostly in a rush to get inside.

You got lucky with Charli, she knew you were going to be there because Matty had told her as she was getting ready with the boys. And you’re glad she came over because you truly felt at ease in your job for the night now.

Before the queen of pop, you had the lovely band Flo and the girls were troopers, playing up to yours and Amelia's antics with shitty karaoke microphones you brought along. Kim Petras came over and showed you both some of her dance moves that she’ll be doing in her performance later on that you and your best friend embarrassingly mimicked.

In a weird and unexpected turn, Declan Rice made an appearance which was confusing at the music awards ceremony to have a footballer there. But you made the most of it and kindly offered the West Ham player a Manchester United mug which he unsurprisingly turned down but you got the best kick out of it. You might even offer it to Matty later to get him scowling at you.

And after you interviewed the lovely Greg James, that was when Charli wondered over and you got bullied. Alas, the rest of the night must go on and now you are feeling fabulous.

Aitch came next and you really don't know how you and Amelia kept it together when she offered him his fake box of belongings back. But despite the jokes that fired between the three of you there was a genuine sincerity there when you wished him luck this evening, and you had a little giggle with him after he handed the microphone back to your crew.

Some guests tonight weren’t doing press, which was a little upsetting, but you both took it on the chin when you were denied interviews. However, a moment tonight that melted both yours and Amelia’s heart was when Ed Sheeran caught your line of sight and you waved at him. Despite his team telling you that he was strictly not doing press, he came over anyway, not for a recorded interview but for a friendly chat where he hugged you upon greeting you and chatted with you for at least five minutes.

It was really nice, it made the both of you feel like you belong here a little more, and that you’re not fish out of water. You deserve to be here just as much as the journalists on the other carpet.

Afterwards, comes people like Stormzy, Shania Twain, Jessie J, David Guetta, and you just interviewed Wet Leg when you spot a few familiar faces, but because you’d class one of them as your friend now you shout her name as she walks past. “Flo!” You shout across to her.

You smile when you see her head whip to the side in search of who shouted her name, and a second later when you move from yours and Amelia's little spot over to the edge of your area and wave does she spot you. And when she does she gasps and waves, which melts your heart entirely. The artist makes her way over to you, looking just as stunning as she always does. As soon as she’s close enough, she has a bright grin on her face as she says an excited, “Hey!”

“Oh my,” She gasps as she stops in front of you and Amelia joins you at your side, “You two look gorgeous!”

You blush because a compliment from her means the world to you, but seeing her dress you can’t help but coo, “No, oh my god! You look amazing!” And she really does. Tonight, Flo is wearing a gorgeous lavender dress that flows gorgeously down to the ground and pools at her feet.

It’s a beautifully made dress, such a stunning shade of lavender that compliments her skin tone well, made from either chiffon or organza with ruching on the bust and thick ruched straps that hold the dress on her shoulders. The detailing just below her breasts makes the rest of the fabric drape down her body in the way you’d expect a disney princess’ too, and you also note that it cleverly hides her growing baby bump.

As she smiles, thanking you for your compliment, before you asks quietly, “How’s baby Turner doing?”

“They’re doing fineee…” Flo grins, running a hand over her stomach so the flowy material will reveal her bump outline to you and you can’t help but pull her in for a hug when you see how big she's getting.

“Don’t suppose,” You start once you let her go, grinning as you cheekily push your luck, “We can pull you for an interview…?”

“No,” She laughs, shaking her head slightly, “You don’t want me, but I’ll make the Monkeys come on for you.”

“They’re actually coming?” Your eyes go a little wide, Amelia’s too because you both knew they were invited but you never for a second thought they would actually show themselves, “I thought you were coming to sit with The 1975 boys.”

“No, believe me,” She laughs, shaking her head, “I wouldn’t have come to another of these if I wasn’t married to someone up for an award. Not after the last time.”

You’re smirking, about to respond with something witty about that night you remember so fondly watching at home on TV back in 2017. However, your friend's name rings out across the room.

“Flo!” You all hear a male voice shout from not too far away.

Turning the three of you see none other than Harry Styles walking his way over. And you’re half sure your heart falls into your stomach, Amelia’s probably too, but thankfully his eyes are mostly focused on Flo.

“Hey Florence,” You and Amelia watch as Harry reaches for the artist, “How are you?”

“Harry, hey!” Flo grins up at him, with a hint of something in her eyes that you can’t quite pinpoint. But you’re too focused on the conversation to dwell on that at the moment. The artist grins and hugs him, “I’m good, thank you. How are you?”

“Great, thank you.” Harry grins, the black suit doing the man such justice, he almost looks like a god despite the huge flower adorning his chest. He pulls her into a massive hug as if they’re been friends for years, “It’s so good to see you.”

Am I missing something? You can’t help but ask yourself. You’re more than certain though that Matty has never mentioned Flo being aquaintances or better yet friends with Harry fucking Styles. You’ll be having words with him for that later.

“God, how long has it been?” Harry thinks out loud, still looking as charming as ever, his eyes never leaving hers. It really makes you feel like you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be. He wonders, “Five years?”

“Six, wasn’t it?” Flo corrects him, still asking despite her clearly knowing, “2016?”

“Right.” You spot the singer almost smirking down at the artist, “The last I saw you was Jamaica, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Jamaica.” She nods confirming and you’re almost sure you see a little embarrassed blush creep onto her cheeks. Flo continues, “Lots has happened since then. Congratulations on your albums, they’ve been amazing. I’m excited for the new one.”

As are you and Amelia. Never in your life have you screamed as hard as when you got your tickets to Love On Tour for one of the nights at Wembley. Except when you got your At Their Very Best tickets… of course.

“Thank you, but I believe you deserve the congratulations, you’re married to Alex now, right?” The singer asks and the artist happily nods, her love for her husband shining through her eyes as she confirms Harry's thoughts. When she does, his smile is huge, “That’s amazing! I'm so happy for you both.”

“Thank you, got a little more to celebrate now too.” Flo holds her hand subtly against her stomach to tell him without actually having to explain aloud. “If you know what I mean.”

And of course he does. The genuine joy for her that seeps onto his face makes you want to melt when he pulls her into another hug. You and your best friend hear him say, “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thank you Harry.” Flo grins, as she pulls away from the hug, but she then turns to you and your best friend, introducing you with ease, “Have you met Y/N and Amelia before? They’re trying to get me to a chicken shop but I think you’d be more who they’re trying to recruit.”

“Hey,” You chuckle, raising your eyebrows at her, “You promised me that date!”

“You’ll get it, my love. I’m going to send Alex and the lads over to you and I’ll see you in there.” She promises, quickly hugging the both of you before she embraces the popstar once again, “It was lovely to see you again Harry.”

“The pleasure’s been all mine, Flo.” He kisses her cheek, lucky bitch. “See you soon.” He waves her off as she wanders back over to where you now see the Monkeys' other wives are standing waiting for her before they head inside.

But who really cares about them when you have Harry fucking Styles standing in front of you, looking you dead in the eye. You’re sure you could pass out at a moment's notice. You’d already been told that he wasn’t doing press, that pretty much no one would get any interaction from him as he would be surrounded by security when he wasn’t on the carpet for pictures. And he was, until he spotted Flo as a familiar face, and now he’s here talking to you and your best friend. And your inner 16 year old self might just pass out.

“Nice to meet the both of you.” Harry smiles at Amelia and then yourself before he leans forward to kiss each of your cheeks. Immediately, the subtle hints of vanilla, ginger, and woody scent fills your senses, Christ he smells so nice. You’re also never washing your cheek again. And you’re sure your eyes go wide when he says, “I'm a huge fan of the show.”

“You’ve seen the show?” Amelia beats you to ask. And it’s funny, you glance at her and her eyes are just as wide as yours were. Pull yourself together Y/N/N. You weren’t this bad meeting the man you're in love with.

“Of course. I love what you do so much.” Harry makes both of your days when he says, “I think you’re both the best people doing interviews right now.”

Amelia’s a little lost for words so she’s happy when you manage to get out, “Thank you so much.”

“It’s so impressive and you’re both so funny.” His smile is just as charming as he is, “I love watching your dates.”

Harry Styles loves watching your dates AHHHHHHHHHH!

“Funny you should say that,” Amelia gets her barings back and charismatically chips back in, “Because we love your music and think you should come on a Chicken Shop Date with us.”

Harry smiles at that, expecting nothing less from you gorgeous, talented women, “When the time is right, I’m all yours.”

You smile, appreciating that a lot, but you promise him, “We’ll hold you to that.”

This time he grins at you, “I don’t doubt you will.”

“We’re seeing you at Wembley in June.” Amelia tells him, letting her excitement shine through a little, which you don’t entirely blame her for. His music means a lot to the both of you.

“Oh,” He smiles brightly, “It’ll be lovely to have you there.”

You tell him truthfully, “We’re really excited.” But you won’t forgive yourself if you don’t casually plead, “Please play Only Angel again.” needing to hear that song live.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Harry grins before he gets ushered on by his security.

Instead of following their orders blindly though, he turns back to the both of you with an apologetic look before grasping both yours and your best friend's hand and giving it a tight squeeze as he sincerely says, “Thank you both so much. Sorry I can’t chat for longer, but I’ll see you in there.”

And he takes your breath away when he kisses the top of both of your hands like prince charming, “It was lovely to meet you both.”

You and your best friend just about get your good lucks and goodbyes out as Harry starts being lead through into the main arena, and as soon as he’s out of sight you turn to each other, wide eyed and say, “What the fuck just happened?!” and, “Oh my fucking god!!” at the same time.

Even when you turn back to your crew, they’re shocked by the encounter too, all not quite believing their eyes. It takes you all a good 5 minutes to recover before you get back into the swing of things.

A few more celebs make their way over to you, but nothing sparked joy like catching the eyes of Alex Turner, who despite being on a red carpet, smiled at you and looked like he was (dare you say) excited for an interview.

“Hello, hello, hello.” You greet the band as they walk up to you, all of them slowly walking into your little corner. Matt and Alex are the ones who have a microphone in hand while Nick and Jamie have their arms behind their backs but kind smiles on their faces.

Amelia beams at them all and greets the drummer, who she’d interviewed when you both were at Reading Fest, “Matt, lovely to see you again.”

“And you Amelia, Y/N.” Matt acknowledges the both of you with a smile and a nod of his head.

“How’ve you been boys?” You ask first to get them all talking, making them feel comfortable with you and Amelia before actually heavily putting on your characters for the interview.

It’s no surprise that you end up bringing up their new album The Car and you’re lucky you and Amelia are good at improvising because you hadn’t planned for these men to be here at all. Thankfully it paid off quite well and you both start rounding off their interview after a few minutes of you both making them laugh.

“Careful when you go inside, Charli XCX is in there.” Amelia begins and after a brief second adds, “She’s got a thing for cars.”

There’s a dazed look from the Monkeys so you deliver another punchline, “Yeah, if she gets her hands on your car she’ll crash it.”

Alex snorts at that, clearly understanding the reference to her album, no doubt thanks to Flo’s influence. The others laugh along, you hope understanding but you remember you have one more trick up your sleeve that will make the band, and you’re sure anyone who knows the history, giggle too.

“Oh Al,” You turn to grab one of the t-shirts from the display behind you and hand it over to Alex with a subtle smirk, “Think this top is right up your street.”

He takes it and unrolls it, a chuckle making him shake when he reads, ‘I Hate Matty Healy’ printed on the front and he holds it up over his chest, looks at you two, hand on his hip as if modelling it.

Amelia nods, “Suits you actually.” as you try to keep a straight face.

“Very fitting.” The singer nods as he mumbles into the microphone, before perking up when seeing there’s more of them displayed behind you. “Can I take one for Flo too? I think she’ll like it.”

“Course.” You smile brightly, turning back around to get another.

But when you hand Alex the top, Matt brings the mic up to his lips to ask, “You got any more?”

Amelia raises her brows and asks rather amused, “You all want one?” and when the rest of the band nods, you can’t help but chuckle to yourself.

“Makes sense because they’re up for the same award as you.” You quip back, giving them a perfect idea for when to wear them, “If they win we will put the tops on for you. Rep the brand.”

Alex hums into the mic softly and nods before mumbling, “Shall hold you up to that.”

You take that as a sign to end your segment with the band there and you bid them farewell with smiles and keeping up your awkward facades, asking them for a date when they leave your sight and making it an underwhelming moment for the sake of the interview. Amelia giggles as she lets her mic fall away from her lips and you giggle with her, a rush of joy running through your veins as you know the carpet is drawing to a close and the awards ceremony is nearing meaning that you’re so close to have accomplished yet another insane goal in your careers once this is over. You quickly reset your set with new ‘I Hate Matty Healy’ tops knowing it can’t be long now until your boys are due over.

You get a few more guests before the band you’ve dedicated so many years of your life to and who hold your heart (now even more so) in their hands appears in your peripherals, and you try not to look startled as you watch the four men walking your way.

“Oh god…” You hold your breath knowing this is where things are going to get tricky for you.

Amelia smirks, “This is gonna be good.” knowing that your boyfriend will have nothing good in mind once he gets to see you.

And he already has.

“Fucking hell.” Matty curses under his breath when you come into his view.

During your FaceTime earlier as you were both getting ready in your respective hotel rooms, you didn’t show him your dress, he only saw you getting your makeup done and he told you that you looked beautiful but then you told him he could wait to see your dress. And fucking hell, he wishes that someone would have forewarned him, his dick is already twitching just looking at you.

You’re wearing a black dress that starts as a tight corset which dramatically emphasises your boobs. But the long skirt that runs down and reaches your heels only covers one of your legs, leaving the other on show, letting everyone see the stockings and suspenders you’re wearing.

Matty’s chest flares with want and need as he can’t take his eyes from you as your team hand him and George the microphones before all of them make their way in shot. And their order ends up being Ross, George, Adam, and then Matty, which you’re thankful for because your boyfriend is furthest away from you with his wandering eyes.

As the other boys take in your set, Amelia can’t get the grin off her face as she notices Matty can’t take his eyes off you. She grabs the rest of their attention as she knowingly smiles, “Well, hello.”

“Fancy seeing you here.” You chip in, looking at the stunning men in front of you.

Ross, Adam, and Matty all wear black suits with white shirts, bowties adorning their necks, while George with his freshly bleached hair looks amazing with his black silk shirt open, showing more of his chest and a stunning chain around his neck. Even yellow tinted glasses make him look like the star of the band, something that you’ll make sure you tell him in front of your boyfriend later.

In fact, what's stopping you right now?

“If I didn’t know better,” You grin, “I’d think you’re the frontman, George. You’re looking very dapper.”

“Really?” The drummer smirks as he asks, catching the look on Matty’s face when he quickly glances around to the rest of them.

“Thinking I should’ve asked you on a date back then.” You clearly flirt but your awkward persona comes into play like the guys had been expecting since they walked over to you and Amelia.

Matty scoffs, “You’re all chat, you said the same thing about Ross.”

With a roll of your eyes, you continue playing into your joke, “Well, maybe I want them both.”

“No double date?” Amelia asks, trying to hide her smirk behind a puzzled look like the possibility of her joining you on a date with Ross and George was more important than wanting to laugh over the clear taunting aimed at your boyfriend.

When Amelia sees you shrugging, she scoffs and turns to the camera to call you out in the meekest tone, “She’s so selfish.”

“Three nominations boys, how are you feeling?” You ask, completely changing the topic of conversation in hopes that if you continue flirting here and there as the interview continues, you’d get some good reactions for the video from your boyfriend. You already can’t wait to edit all of this together.

“Very grateful.” Adam says humbly after George puts the mic close to his mouth as he sees him nod and mumble beside him.

Amelia is the one to turn to them and let them know of the plan you’d played about with the band that had just been in their places a few minutes before, “Just gotta warn you that if you win, we’ve started a new movement with Arctic Monkeys.”

“With the Monkeys?” Ross asks with a half grin on his face, like he’s suspicious of what you’ve been plotting with the band.

Almost immediately after, Matty asks, “And what would that be?”

But he gets no sign of an answer when you shrug nonchalantly, keeping your face blank and making them even more curious with a tantalising, “If I tell, the surprise would be ruined, no?”

Matty goes to ask but you tut, “You’ll just have to win and see what happens.”

“Are you feeling lucky? I brought my lucky egg, you can rub it so you can find out.” Amelia says, always comically eager to have people rubbing on the lucky egg she brings to red carpets. She turns to grab it from the shelf just behind the bassist, and you really have to stop yourself from giggling at the way she proudly holds the egg up. It’s genuinely like watching someone care for a baby the way your best friend coos over this egg.

“How many people have rubbed this egg?” Ross asks, an eyebrow raised and his dimples showing faintly beneath his beard due to the smirk that breaks on his face. God, you wish Ross would look at you the way he’s looking at Amelia right now.

And you wish you could be as cool about it as she is, keeping her smirk soft and her shrug indifferent as she replies factually, “Most of Hollywood’s walk of fame.”

“So we’re the best?” Matty asks rhetorically, grinning, “I see.”

“If you do say so yourself.” You say with the hint of a smile on your lips, looking your boyfriend in the eye properly for the first time tonight.

He looks so fucking good, and the lust in his eyes is so easy for you to spot. It makes you want to clench your thighs together, so you look away from him, back to Adam to maintain your on screen persona. You can do this Y/N. You can do this.

As difficult as it is ignoring the man you love, you push on for the sake of the bit. Amelia puts her egg down as you take the lead on your next question.

“You've been coming to the Brits since 2016 and you’ve won at least one award every year you’ve been.” You state the fact, giving way to the beginning of a bit that you hope gives you the reactions you were anticipating when you wrote it down with your best friend.

“Yes.” George and Adam confirm proudly.

Ross teases with a playful, “You’ve done your homework.”

To that Matty smirks, finding the perfect opportunity to pick on you, “With how obsessed she is with us, I doubt she even had to google that.”

You have to bite your tongue to backchat, sticking to finishing your joke as originally planned, putting on a pout as you fake pity for them when you say, “Be a bit embarrassing if you don't win something tonight, wouldn't it?”

A loud scoff comes from your boyfriend, whilst Adam and Ross giggle and George clicks his tongue softly before scolding you, “We won’t win with that attitude.”

“Ah, true forgot you were up against Harry Styles, sorry.” You wince sarcastically and deem it, “No chance there now.” before you give them whiplash again by randomly asking, “So who was your favourite member of One Direction?”

They chuckle at the sudden ridiculous question, and you have to press your lips together not to cackle at the sound of George’s laughter mixing with the giggles coming from the rest of the boys. Amelia is the one who continues on the topic by warning them, “You better say Harry or I’ll tell on you when we go inside.”

Comically, they play on the joke and all of them start nodding feigning honesty when they start saying, “Oh yes, definitely Harry.” at different times, repeating their words as they look into the camera so it sounds and looks chaotic.

“That’s right.” Amelia hums in approval, looking at the camera for a split second before turning back to the band with a new question, “Do you guys have any award show rituals? That you do to bring you luck?”

“Other than rubbing your egg?” Ross asks with an incredulous look on his face, it’s almost as if he’s holding back from laughing.

You sigh like the lack of answers is annoying you and roll your eyes to say, “Yes, other than rubbing Amelia's egg.”

To your dismay they shake their heads and all you do is give the camera a look of exasperation, Amelia is the one who makes you look back at them for she looks straight into Ross’ eyes and firmly replies, “Then I think you really should rub my egg.” She grabs it again and without hesitation offers it up to Ross with hopeful eyes. Something which you all end up laughing at.

Matty sees the way Amelia is looking at Ross and he makes a mental note to keep an eye out about it inside the venue. He knows you’re flirting with the bassist for the bit, and though he’s not the biggest fan of that, it’s keeping him the slightest bit amused; but Amelia is fully gawking at him and it almost seems like she keeps scooting closer to him as you all laugh.

So instead of keeping the teasing for later, Matty starts taunting your best friend right then, “Sounding a little desperate there, Amelia.”

Your best friend surprises him when she goes from eye fucking Ross to glaring at him in a split second, spouting a stern, “Not more than you look.” towards him because she’s seen just how badly your boyfriend can’t keep his eyes away from your figure and how everything he wants to do to you is written all over his face.

Matty’s jaw drops at her words as the other three boys loudly snort at her publicly outing him, but before they can start bickering, you tut and call them out, “Okay pipe down, no cat fights on the red carpet please.”

George and Ross can’t help their chuckles, Adam’s head hangs as he shakes his head trying to hide the amused grin on his face but his shoulders shake in silent laughter. Matty’s eyes flick from the fake little stare down with Amelia to you where he loses his breath all over again and he can’t help but look you up and down again. You’re so fucking hot.

Before you can break character, you bring up another question you had prepared, “Any collabs you’re looking to secure tonight?”

A chorus of thinking hum sounds come from your left and as Amelia abandons her lucky egg again, George is the first to break the silence as he honestly replies, “Not that we’ve thought of…”

Ross turns to you and Amelia to genuinely try to answer your question by asking first, “Who’s here tonight?”

But before anyone can give a genuine answer, your boyfriend is back to taunting Amelia by saying, “Maybe Aitch, you know. Just to get the group back together.”

You have to give your best friend props for she easily avoids Matty’s comment and acts entirely unaffected. She puts on a pout and there’s fake pity in her voice when she counters with, “Oh no, I’ve literally just given him his stuff back, that’d be awkward.”

Turning to look at your best friend, you give her a look that you hope she reads because this could be fucking hilarious. You tap your chin with your finger and hum loudly for a few seconds, an exaggeration of thinking of something, before you start talking again, “You need someone that fits your vibes, you know. Someone that compliments you perfectly.”

“Oh, I know,” Amelia grins, offering, “Yungblud.”

It takes everything in you not to burst out laughing when you see your boyfriend’s face drop into an unimpressed look before he rubs his temple like he’s getting a headache from the mere mention of the name and curses under his breath, “Fucks sakes.”

Your blood rushes with excitement when you know exactly what to add to make this even funnier, “If my opinion counts for anything… I reckon it’d be the morally obvious thing to do.”

Knowing exactly what you’re referring to, George and Ross burst out laughing and they turn to see a smirking Matty that’s holding back his own laughter at what he admits was a good joke. You and Amelia, just like Adam, are trying not to laugh but the amused smirks on your faces give you away. It’s so hard not to laugh when George keeps giggling.

Amelia manages to compose herself before you, but she completely makes your breath hitch when she turns to your boyfriend and asks, “Planning on kissing any fans at the after party?”

“Just the one.” Matty cheekily replies, a smirk on his face when his gaze falls on you with a hungry look on his face that threatens you to lose your composure. He shrugs nonchalantly as he adds, “Might take her to a chicken shop on the way home…”

You purse your lips as you hum, taking in what he’s saying but acting a fool, pretending not to get the hint and stating, “Lucky one.” with your brows raised in challenge. But Matty notes the hint of jealousy in your voice.

Of course, he wasn’t gonna give it to you easily, not when you’ve been teasing him and flirting with his best mates when you look like that tonight. “Wish I was taking you?” He asks, a challenging look of his own on his face. It only encourages you to play dirtier.

“Wish Ross was taking me.” You quip back, biting your bottom lip when you see him clenching his jaw at the ease of your answer.

And thank god for Ross knowing exactly what you’re trying to do because he adds more fuel to the fire, asking with a raised eyebrow and a sultry tone, “In more ways than one?”

Even knowing that it’s just a joke, the bassist’s voice manages to get you flustered and Matty seethes seeing the effect Ross has on you even though it’s not that noticeable as you confidently reply, “Many more.”

For the sake of the bit (definitely not driven by the need to stop this and have Ross’ attention back on her), your best friend adds her two cents into the conversation, “But you gotta go on a chicken shop date first.”

“Is that a requirement?” Ross questions her with a brow raised.

“Yes.” Amelia says at the same time as you say, “No.”

Ross presses his lips together when the two of you frown at each other, trying not to laugh as he asks again, “So yes or no?”

“Yes.” Amelia says again and you gasp at her response, almost whining when you go against her words again, “No, she’s trying to sabotage me.”

“She’s dramatic.” Amelia sighs and rolls her eyes at the camera, another gasp coming from you when Matty mumbles a, “Yes.” into the mic.

Narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend for a few seconds, you turn to Amelia and say, “You wanna know drama? There’s drama?” You point an accusing finger Matty’s way and he of course feigns innocence.

“Me?” He asks in a gasp, “Not me.” But Adam, George and Ross easily agree with you, nodding and concurring that your boyfriend is indeed a drama queen.

“Without me your lives would be so boring.” The curly headed singer at the edge of the group says, an offended frown on his face that makes you want to laugh.

Ross rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Sure, what would we do without you?” Matty’s mouth falls open at his sarcastic words and Ross puffs his chest out like he’s not taking back what he’s just said. It’s so funny seeing them bicker like children.

But before you entirely lose grasp on the dynamics of the interviews you usually conduct with Amelia here, you’re the one to ask yet another question. One that was completely improvised but that you hope you can steer into a funny bit.

“Ross, will you be letting your hair down tonight?” You ask, silently hoping and praying the answer is yes.

“Depends if we win,” Ross smiles and shrugs, “Could be on the cards.”

“You should, it looks very lucious.” Amelia proudly flirts, “Best hair in the band award would definitely go to you.”

You don’t miss the way the bassists cheeks turn to a hint of pink, and you’re half jealous that Amelia's gotten that reaction out of him. You can’t help but watch them like a TV show as you hear Matty scoff under his breath, “I don't think.” and God you hope the microphone picked it up.

“Speaking of,” To add fuel to the fire, you continue to ask the rest of the band with a smirk on your lips, “Quickfire questions for you… Matty’s worst hairstyle, go!”

The way Matty’s face falls is comical. He looks so offended you’ve even asked that, he’s never even heard you talk about his hair in a negative way except for your clear distaste for when he gels it back, hence why he’d left his curls alone tonight, all he’s done is style them a bit.

“Easy.” George comes in straight off the bat, “When he looked like a mushroom.”

It takes everything in you not to burst out laughing at the comment and the way you see your boyfriend's head snap towards his best friend. The look of betrayal just gets more intense as your bit continues.

“Ha, yes mushroom and microphone head over here.” Amelia agrees with George in a split second and you nod too, a wicked smirk on your face when you catch the look on your boyfriend’s face as you wish for this to continue.

“No come on, it was when he looked like a pot noodle for a few months. That was dire.” Ross groans at the memory of his blond long curls, shaking his head in disapproval as he makes eye contact with a very offended Matty.

Matty frowns looking at you and Amelia like you’ve just killed his dog as he complains, “This just turned into a slag Matty off fest or…?”

Holding back your smile, you’re thankful that it doesn’t deter the rest of the band from carrying on bullying their friend. In fact, Adam, the absolute legend, goes straight for Matty’s throat.

“If we’re being real, that mohawk made him look like a brush,” The guitarist tells you, pulling no punches when he adds, “Was ready to sweep the floor with his head.”

The laugh that bubbles through you then is something you can’t hold back, and everyone but Matty joins in with loud cackles that make the scene feel so familiar, you almost forget that you’re at the Brits red carpet and not on the tour bus on the way to some city in the UK.

“Careful he’ll lock you back up in his basement Adam.” Amelia jokes and it makes the guitarist snort at the mention of a joke he’s seen around twitter so often.

Everyone’s attention is back on you when you tut loudly as you shake your head, “These are all very good answers but I'm afraid you’re all wrong. The right answer is clearly that rat tail back in 2020.” You fake a shiver that definitely would’ve ran down your spine if you were to see a picture of that hairstyle again.

Groans break out around the group, everyone nodding and siding with you but what you’re not expecting is for your boyfriend to narrow his eyes at you and threaten, “Carry on and it’ll come back.”

You don’t leave room for that to even become a possibility as you sternly state, “No it won't.”

Matty challenges you with a smirk on his face,“Wanna bet?”

One that you match when you challenge him back, folding your arms, “Wanna lose a girlfriend?”

“You wouldn’t.” He says breathily, shocked at the way you just threw that out there.

Eyes narrowing again, you nonchalantly shrug and let him know he’s on, “Thin ice tonight.” and he feels the blood rushing through his veins heating up at the way you’re looking him up and down as if sizing him up.

“Why?” He frowns, questioning your words.

You shrug and your tone makes it sound like it’s obvious, “Your hair is styled.”

He scoffs entirely amused and his cheeks heat as he’s fully aware of everyone’s gazes going from him to you like a tennis match, “You expect me to win an award with my hair looking like I’ve just rolled out of bed?”

This is the only time you struggle to find your words, and your answer is so weak that it makes everyone hold back their laughter, “The fans would appreciate it more.”

It’s so transparent, Matty is the one to tease you for everyone with the most sarcastic tone he could muster, “Yeahhhh, the fans.”

He knows damn well all that’s going through your head is how badly you want to pull on his hair, and he wants that too; for you to pull on his hair as he disappears beneath your skirt and you make a mess of his pretty face as you cum on it.

“Domesticsss.” Amelia sing-songs in the middle of it all, looking into the camera with an expression that will definitely make you burst out laughing when you’re editing this video.

As a joke of wanting to protect her from the bickering between you and your boyfriend, Ross hooks his arm with Amelia’s and pulls her away as they start shuffling towards the side of your interview area so they can escape, “Dimz, come with us.”

Your staring battle with Matty is cut short when you see them walking her past you, you wrap your fingers around her wrist and pull her back towards you, “She’s staying with me.”

Amelia giggles in the middle of the predicament she’s in, but of course Ross lets her go with an exaggerated sigh for the camera and mumbles something into the mic that you don’t catch before he lets Amelia free from his grasp and she happily scoots back closer to you.

“Okay, that’s it I guess.” Amelia says with an awkward smile on her face, “Off you go.”

She shoos them away and you wave at them with the same blank expression which makes them all laugh as they start walking in front of you towards your crew.And there’s a bit of relief that floods you when you know their interview is over.

As you say a very flat, “Byeeeeee…” all you can think of is how glad you are that you didn’t break character and that it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be to ignore your boyfriend as much as you tried to.

It’s a relief it ended up being quite funny too and you’re so happy you got all that on camera despite definitely knowing that not everything was going to be in the final cut of the video. You can’t wait to edit all this tomorrow, it’s going to be so much fun.

“What's all that then?” Ross asks as they’re walking away, finally getting to see the display of tops which slander his best mate that has been hiding behind you the whole time.

You turn slightly and showcase it by extending your hand beside it, “Our display, do you like it?”

Ross laughs and nods his head as he starts being ushered away, “Brilliant,” Is what you hear him say before he walks further behind the cameras. George hands someone beside your camera man his microphone and follows the bassist, not before giggling about the display and Adam does the same before following George’s path.

But of course, once he sees it, Matty can’t leave it looking like that.

“Here, thank you.” He hurriedly says as he hands the mic back, before turning to you and Amelia and come back in shot to correct your set. He doesn’t hesitate to go behind you to your display while stating confidently, “I’ll fix this for you.”

With a speed that makes you want to laugh, he plucks the top that’s folded to show the ‘Hate’ so that it shows ‘Healy’ instead and places it under the one that says ‘Matty’, leaving your display to just say ‘I (blank) Matty Healy’.

You and Amelia watch expectantly as he reaches for another place on the shelves, grabbing something you don’t really notice before going back behind you and it’s when he places it in the empty spot that you realise what he’s done.

Matty has put a pair of heart shaped sunglasses in between the ‘I’ and ‘Matty’, leaving your display to say ‘I heart Matty Healy’ in an improvised attempt.

He gives himself a second to look at his creation proudly, turning to the camera and giving it a thumbs up before dashing away from the place you and Amelia take on the red carpet.

“Of course.” You scoff into the microphone, both you and your best friend shaking your head as if disapproving the whole thing.

Amelia makes her joke audible by saying, “He can keep lying to himself.” right after.

But you can’t go along with the joke at your boyfriend’s expense because he comes back in a hurry.

“Now what?” You quickly ask, sighing like you’re exasperated by his return.

But you’re not expecting what he’s about to do when he snatches the microphone from your hands and breathily says, “Forgot this.” into it before handing it blindly to Amelia.

In a split second he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and cupping your face with his other hand, catching your lips in a hungry kiss and he dips forward so your arms fly around his neck, he swallows the small shriek that falls from your lips.

Everything escapes you when his lips are on yours. Suddenly, the only thing that you know is that your boyfriend has you clutched tight against him and his mouth is moving eagerly with yours, his tongue teasing your bottom lip and you part your mouth to welcome him without even thinking that this is all happening in front of the cameras which are still rolling.

You don’t even hear the surprised, “Oh!” that Amelia lets out as your kiss grows hotter in a matter of seconds, but before it can all come back to you, Matty lifts and twists you to stand back up straight and pulls back. The smack of your mouths separating pierces the silence that has fallen around you, and he drops one last peck on your lips before he runs away once again, leaving you no time to even question what’s happened.

Amelia pushes the mic into your hands, seeing that you’re too busy being dumbstruck after that steamy kiss to continue your job for the night. The feel of the mic between your fingers brings you back halfway, your gaze moving slowly from your smirking best friend to the camera where your cameraman behind it can’t help but laugh when you’re just blinking at the lenses like a fool for a good minute.

“Ermm… I think we can say tonight has left us speechless.” Amelia quips to the camera before elbowing you to snap out of your trance.

Jesus Christ, your boyfriend is gonna be the death of you.

~*~*~*~

“Hey baby.” Matty greets you with a smirk, he can’t help but gawk at you all over again and his teeth sink on his bottom lip when he sees those stockings and garters you have under your stunning dress. He can’t wait to go home, after party be damned.

“How’d it go?” He asks wholeheartedly when you take a seat beside him, his hand instantly coming over your exposed thigh to rub circles on your skin.

You scoff when he acts as if he hadn’t ruined your facade when he pulled that little stunt on you earlier, “Went great other than you embarrassing me.”

“You loved it.” Your boyfriend rolls his eyes and refutes you with ease, smirking as he states, “The romantic in you wanted to be swept off your feet tonight.” He leans in closer to you and starts kissing from your cheek down your jaw until he reaches your neck and there he nuzzles his face into it, his curls tickling you and making you inevitably erupt in giggles.

Proud of his effect on you, he leans back slightly and steals a kiss that you just can’t deny because you’ve been thinking of that mouth since he shocked you with that kiss as he was leaving the red carpet.

He’s got you dizzy even before you take a sip of alcohol, and your skin lights up in flames from his fingers tightly clutching your neck. You can’t help but be the one to deepen the kiss, to let him know you feel just the same need as him and even considering skipping the after party entirely just to have him the way you want all night and at the earliest convenience.

But when you pull back and he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, you know that he’s got no issues trying to have you even earlier. Right now. His hand slowly falls from your neck, down your shoulder and arm until he can intertwine your fingers together.

You clench your thighs taking in the lust that has blown his pupils, the way his tongue licks at his lips like he’s indulging in the taste of your mouth even after your lips have separated. He’s eating you up with his eyes and you know him so well, you can almost hear him saying all that he wants to do with you, especially in this dress.

“Don’t even think about it Healy, I gotta give this dress back when the event is over.” You rest your finger over his lips and warn him with a smirk that you can’t hold back.

“But-” He fights immediately, his hand squeezing yours like it can help convince you otherwise.

You tut, “No. This is archive Vivienne Westwood and so is Amelia’s. Imagine how much I’d have to pay if I even spill a drink on it.” You tell him as you move your hand away from his lips.

“I don’t care, I can pay.” Matty says easily, rolling his eyes and smirking like he finds your concern over its cost funny or even endearing.

“Sure you can.” You sarcastically reply, a chuckle falling from your lips.

Your amusement dies when he leans back in and his lips brush yours when he starts saying, “There’s no amount of money I wouldn’t be willing to spend on you, baby.” He only leans back a few inches to look you up and down, his eyes almost rolling back in pleasure and a groan rumbling through his chest when he has an eyeful of your cleavage. “Especially not if it means I get to taste you under the skirt of this pretty dress when you look like this.”

Before your boyfriend has a chance to laugh at the way you choke on your breath when he says that, his attention is taken by a familiar face. And you must admit, you're thankful for the distraction, because you think you’d be willing to let him take you somewhere in this huge venue and have his way with you after that comment.

Alex Turner says hello to the table and eventually stops beside Matty where they hug again and just like you, Matty was surprised to see him here. He asks about where they’re seated and of course about Flo, and when he points out the table, not too far from your own at all, your previous interaction with the artist comes back to the forefront of your mind.

Matty waves over at Flo when Alex points out their table which is diagonal and just a table further in front of yours. You smile brightly back over to her, but then you remember who she introduced you to and you immediately go serious again when you turn to your curly haired brunette.

“You didn’t tell me that Flo knew Harry Styles.” You halfheartedly punch your boyfriend's arm.

“She doesn’t really…” Matty trails off, rubbing his arm and looks at Alex for confirmation of that and he nods, which confuses you even more.

You have to ask, “She met him here with you, right?”

You remember those Brits very well. It’s hard to forget the ‘that rock n’ roll ey’ speech and the shock of seeing who you thought was Matty's girlfriend kiss Alex Turner on TV.

“Yeah, 2014 Brits and I think that’s it.” Alex nods, entirely sure of himself as he has never recalled his wife mentioning that she’d met the popstar after then.

But you’re not having it.

Just as George comes up and says hello to Alex too, you think back to the encounter that you witnessed not long ago and tell them what happened. That’s not something you’d blush because of one previous interaction.

“No, she blushed when he spoke to her. They definitely know each other.” Your eyes are wide and your tone entirely confident when you tell them. Perplexed and confused is the only way you’re able to describe their faces. You continue to tell the three men, “They talked to each other like they actually knew each other. Said that they last saw each other in 2016. In Jamaica.”

At that you watch both lead singers' faces fall entirely, and for a split second you're left wondering what you said wrong as they both gormlessly look at you.

The drummer tunes into the conversation, his eyes wide and shocked, “Did you just say Jamaica?”

You nod, confirming what you heard of the earlier conversation and the three men all look between each other and a few scoffs manage to escape from their lips. What the fuck is going on? You can’t help but think. George, Matty, and Alex all look at each other with their mouths wide and Matty says a quiet, “Surely not.” before Alex’s gaze falls back on you to double check, “Are you sure she said Jamaica?”

“He said Jamaica and she agreed.” You promise them, entirely confident in your response.

Alex looks at Matty and almost scoffs,“I can’t fucking believe it.”

Your boyfriend is entirely just lost for words, while George is the one who laughs in disbelief, “I can’t believe we finally know who Jamaica was.”

“Woah, what?” Your voice raises a little now, a look in your eye that Matty knows means you need to know what's happening.

Your curly haired brunette finds his voice again, and he’s the one who tells you, “Way back when, Wheels told us all that she signed an NDA on her holiday to Jamaica because she had fun with a celebrity she couldn’t name. And she’s never once told us who it was and now you’ve spilled the beans.”

No. Fucking. Way.

“You mean that Flo and Harry Styles have…?” You trail off, keeping your voice low, not quite believing what you’re actually alluding to.

Surely not. Surely there’s not a woman alive who can be that fucking lucky. But all three men nod, still looking dazed. Your jaw falls and all you can think is, that woman is living her best fucking life.

“You’re kidding.” You say, hoping you’re misunderstanding because you’re about to lose your shit.

“We’re not.” Alex tells you and it’s only then that you fully believe and process what you’re hearing. You hand flies over your mouth, “Fuck off.”

And you don’t even hesitate to start walking over to her, and you do so like you’re on a mission. Which you guess you are, a recon mission most definitely.

“Florence. Turner.” You say in what you can only describe as a teacher's voice, and you sit beside her in Alex’s seat as you scorn her as quietly as you can, “You lucky little bitch, I want to be you. You lucky cow!”

She looks appropriately confused considering you’ve given her no context for your outburst. She chuckles, “What’s all this?”

“Alex Turner. Matty Healy. Harry fucking Styles!” You hold up a finger for each of the men she’s had sex with.“Florence, how do you get these men?!”

“Shhhhh!” Her eyes go wide, and panic is clear to see in her eyes as she whisper shouts at you, “How do you know about that?!”

“I asked the guys how you knew Harry so well and they were confused saying you didn’t. But you were blushing so hard back there so I-”

“I didn’t blush.” She interrupts, entirely adamant that she didn’t but you know better.

And you don’t blame her for blushing. If you’d fucked Harry Styles years ago and the first time you were seeing him since was at an awards show, married, and pregnant, you’d be blushing too.

“Hun,” You give her a look of disbelief, telling her honestly, “You went as red as a tomato when Jamaica was mentioned.”

“Oh god,” Her hands fly to her temples, eyes wide and then she looks at you dead in the eye. She glances over at the 1975 table where her husband also is, but she turns back to look at you before she even gets to see them. Flo has to ask, “They all know?”

You press your lips together, feeling bad you accidentally split her secret to some of her closest friends, her ex, and her husband/baby daddy. “I’m sorry,” You apologise, but she waves you off, not offended that you’ve let it slip, she’s just mortified that something else related to who she's slept with has come to light at yet another Brit Awards.

Flo can’t help but think, At least I’ll have the baby as my excuse never to come to another.

Interrupting her thought process though, you can’t help but ask, “On a serious note, is Watermelon Sugar about you?”

“Y/N/N,” Her eyes soften and she sounds as if she's trying not to laugh when she grabs a hold of your hand and starts, “I love you but-”

“No buts!” You stop her, this is serious and there’s no way you’ll be able to function for the rest of the night without getting some clarity. “It’s about you, isn’t it?”

“I’m fairly certain I’m not the only person he’s gone down on in the last six years.” She explains slowly like she was trying to make a child understand how time works.

But you’re far too gone in shock and you can’t help but chat back, “The song came out in 2019. That's enough time to have a song written about you.” A few beats of silence pass since she doesn’t answer and you’re left trying to get a grasp of what you’ve just discovered, “Can’t believe Harry fucking Styles has gone down on you.”

Flo blushes again, but instead of turning into a stuttering mess, she owns it and coyly smirks at you, “He did more than that.”

Your jaw falls again, “I’m so jealous!”

She can’t help but laugh at that, but she shakes her head and rests her hand on your thigh, “Love, you don’t have to be jealous, Matty's tongue is just as good.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Ah, no buts.” Flo interrupts, not letting you go down that route when she knows just how lucky you are. But she can understand the shock and the need to know, so she promises you, “I’ll tell you all about Jamaica when we’re not about to be on TV, okay?”

You hold out your little finger, wanting her to pinky swear, and it may be childish of you but you think your blossoming friendship can handle it. The gesture seems to light up the artist's eyes because she doesn’t hesitate to hook her pinky around yours, a silent promise confirmed between you. Your little moment ends up being interrupted by a husband with a knowing look in his eye. Alex shakes his head at his wife in fake disappointment, “I can’t believe you.” He looks down and takes his wife’s free hand, “All this time and it was that obvious.”

Clearly past the point of being embarrassed, Flo just shrugs and smirks at her husband, “Sorry Shakespeare.”

“Is that the reason why you wanted to come back this year, Angel?” You watch as Alex teases her when she stands up and wraps her arms around his neck as his wrap around her waist. His smirk is huge as he presses on, “Being that your fling is up for four awards.”

“You’re up for two.” She reminds him, her fingers deftly brushing his hair from his face.

“Two that we won't win.” Alex hums, and you can’t help but see just how enamoured he is by her.

He looks at her as if she’s the only person in the room. As if her smile lights up the entire universe and they’re the only two that matter. She’s his entire world, and it’s so clear to see.

“Love you all the same.” Flo grins, her fingers routing into her husband's hair.

His whole face lights up as if it’s the first time he’s hearing her tell him. And he doesn’t hesitate for a second to tell her, “Love you more Angel.” And he leans in to kiss his stunning wife.

They are somehow cuter than Adam and Carly, and George and Charli. They are the epitome of couple goals and it’s making you long for your boyfriend.

So before they have a chance to fully immerse themselves into their kiss, you quickly stand and ruin their moment.

“You’re both disgustingly cute,” You tell them and they don’t for a second look like they mind the halfhearted insult. All Flo does is hug her husband closer and melt into his arms when he kisses her temple as she looks to you.

You bid the couple farewell when you say, “I’ll see you at the afterparty,” but you look at the artist as you remind her of her promise, “Where we will be having a conversation.”

You turn to start heading back until you hear Flo tease you, “If Matty doesn’t take you straight home to get you out of that dress.”

“He’s already been told no.” You chuckle but you’re getting flustered all over again when remembering his words from just before this whole Jamaica thing had been brought to light.

Flo notices the way you take a deep breath and how it hitches in your throat, and she can’t help but find it funny. She can see it wouldn’t take much to persuade you, so she teases you further, “It’s never stopped him beforeeee.”

Knowing she’s talking from past experience has you losing your mind. Clearly, you’re going to be in for a night to remember when you get back home. But before you give her the chance to catch you flushing over your boyfriend and his horniness, you note that Alex is frowning at his wife after that comment which you can’t help but find funny considering the long history.

You point at her and playfully sing-song, “I think you’re on thin ice.” as you nod to her husband. You hear her laughing as you turn back and retreat back to your table, where your boyfriend is waiting for you eagerly with a huge grin and his arm over the back of your chair.

The night grows more and more entertaining as time goes on. The performances are amazing and the speeches make you giggle, as well as the interviews around the place that are fucking hilarious thanks to the Brits feeding alcohol to celebrities all night without being frugal with it. The absolute chaos the Brits bring is just so refreshing compared to American awards.

All of which Charli has been capturing on her digital camera, the one you have been handed multiple times tonight to capture pictures of everyone around the table. Charli has taken so many of you and Matty, you and Amelia and many selfies that have had the boys creasing all night. You cannot wait to post them on your Instagram when Charli sends them to you next week.

It was sad seeing both the 1975 and the Monkeys not taking the trophies home but you definitely gasped and yelled when Wet Leg won and they recited Alex’s infamous rock and roll speech from 2014. You started cackling more at it when you saw Flo cry laughing at it and cheering them on all while taking the piss out of her husband even more.

By the time Selin Hizli and Daisy May Cooper made it up on the stage and presented the nominees for Best Rock / Alternative Act, you’re messing about with everyone on the table. You, of course, cheer loudly when the nominees are shown and the two bands you’re rooting for flash on the screen but you’re not expecting either of them to win solely from how the night has gone so far.

So when the envelope is opened and the winner is announced and you hear a loud, “The 1975!” you rise from your seat like the whole table does and throw yourself into your boyfriend’s arms. It’s a quick embrace as the room erupts in cheers, but you can’t help but cup Matty’s face softly and pull him in for a short sweet kiss followed by, “Congratulations, baby.” before you hug George and Adam.

Ross is the furthest away so you manage to just blow him a kiss, but your boyfriend steals one more from you before he and the boys head to the stage to accept their award.

You can’t help but grin watching Flo stand up to hug the boys as they walk past. But you let out a loud cackle when Matty pulls back from the hug and cups her face and pretends to go in for a proper kiss, making Flo squeal and slap your boyfriend’s arm playfully.

Adding to taunting Flo’s Brit experiences makes everyone laugh and when Matty waves the joke off and kisses her cheek instead she accepts it and moves him on so she can hug Ross. Despite that though you see Matty lean down and whisper into Alex’s ear, and when the singer laughs at whatever your boyfriend says it makes their table burst out laughing when Matty kisses Alex’s cheek with as much emphasis as he did Flo’s.

As you turn to hold Charli while you watch the boys hug the actresses on stage, you glance back at Flo and Alex and cackle when Florence unfolds the top and puts it over her chest and sticks her tongue out at you. ‘I hate Matty Healy’ proudly being waved for all to see.

Charli turns to see it too and laughs with you, catching Amelia and Carly’s attention who also join in the giggles. You, Charli, and Amelia grab yours from where you put them near the centre of the table and hold yours up to your chests too so you stand in alliance with the Monkeys like you promised.

People around you laugh, and Carly takes a picture of the three of you like that, reminding you that you have to get a picture of the three of you and Florence in your tops before you leave. Looking back at the Monkeys table, you blow Flo a kiss that she reciprocates and Alex laughs as he shakes his head at his wife.

Your attention goes back to the stage when you hear your boyfriend start talking and you put the top back on the table as tears well up in your eyes at the sight. You’re so fucking proud of him and the boys, all of them incredibly talented gifting everyone their art wholeheartedly every time without fail, their passion for what they do seeping through every song they make and that’s what you’ve always adored about them.

Your chest swells with pride and your eyes are teary, you manage to grab your phone and start recording as they get off stage and come back to the table.

Matty hadn’t been able to tear his gaze off you when he was up there and he still isn’t able to stop looking at you, beaming at him with those eyes of yours gleaming under the lights.

Oxygen escapes him all over again when all of you come back into view, and he’s so glad you’re still recording because he knows you’ll have captured the way you turn him entirely stupid at the mere sight of you. That gorgeous face of yours that he wants to kiss until you push him away, that neck that he’s dying to mark up, that body that makes him lose control of any logic, those arms and hands that hold him the way he’s been craving his whole life.

He loves you so fucking much, his chest tightens at the thought of telling you right now.

But before he can even open his mouth, you’re throwing yourself on his arms again and pouncing on his lips without a second to doubt your actions.

Your arms wrap around his neck and his wrap around your waist, the kiss tastes salty from the stray tears that have finally managed to run down your cheek and sweet like all the wine you’ve drank tonight.

Despite the very large crowd you’ve got around you, you haven’t got it in you to hide away from the PDA this time. You kiss each other slowly and tenderly, like you have all the time in the world.

And well, you do because Matty can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather than with you. Holding you like this, kissing you like this, sharing his proudest moments with you just like he has shared his struggles with you.

He fucking loves you, adores you with all he has and nothing’s ever felt so right.

“I adore you.” He mumbles into your lips when he breaks the kiss, your chests rising and falling in rhythm as you take deep breaths.

“Adore you too.” You say back with a massive smile before catching his lips again. Matty’s heart feels like it’s about to burst at its seams, and it’s nothing to do with the award that he won only two minutes ago. He’s got you and he knows that having you by his side will forever be more than enough. Nothing and no one can compare and he’s certain not a single thing could make him happier. He loves you so so much, all he can do is hope that when he says it, you will make his dreams come true by saying those three words back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: We really hope you enjoyed this one! So sorry it took so long, we promise that it won't take that long for the next one. Can't believe we're coming to the end of this fic, we'll be getting emotional over it soon ahaha. Thank you so much for baring with us and for reading. Please let us know what you thought and we hope you loved it xx

P.S: NRIACC girlies, hope you enjoyed this one too xoxoxoxox

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cuffmeinblack · 3 months

Text

Between the Lines

Andrew Larson x reader

Tags: Ravenclaw reader | fluff | tension | slice of life | very mild spice

5.1k words

Summary: Something on the noticeboard catches your eye; a book club run by your fellow Ravenclaw. Joining might be the best decision you ever make.

A/n: Yes, I wrote 5k words of pure fluff, sue me. Credit to @ellivenollivander for book club nerd Andrew inspo. Credit to myself for giving him glasses because I'm a self-indulgent pos.

⤍ Andrew Larson masterlist ⤎

By the time you’d found your way back to the Ravenclaw common room, your eyes—now permanently imprinted with light from distant stars—no longer bore the tiredness the late hour invited. In fact, you were wide awake, mind buzzing with maps of constellations and mentally writing your homework assignment not due for another week. It appeared your classmates felt the same annoying spark of energy that would delay sleep until the wee hours. Amit appeared to already be working on his essay, parchment and quill pulled out of his bag and lain across one of the coffee tables. With a sigh, you stalked through the room, bathing in the soft glow of ever burning candles and starlight, coming to a stop near a bookcase filled with mostly educational textbooks. The lone book of Muggle literature seemed to have been borrowed, only a gaping hole left behind.

Another late night atop the Astronomy tower concluded with an assignment that promised yet more of the same. The howling wind almost blew you down the stairs in the rush below, students clamouring into the relative warmth of the castle. The deeper you descended, the more your muscles relaxed—despite the warming charm you'd cocooned yourself in at the beginning of your lesson, it was clearly no match for the harsh Scottish Winters. In front of you, you spotted others shivering still, rubbing their arms, teeth chattering, including the ash blond hair you recognised as Andrew Larson's. He was perhaps the only other student who enjoyed the subject as much as Amit, who's enthusiastic smile appeared frozen in place.

Instead of grumbling your annoyance, you let your eyes drift over the adjacent noticeboard, chuckling softly at the personal notes that littered the display. Love letters sat side by side with passive aggressive scrawls, replies inked haphazardly in the margins of the papers. Your gaze finally fell onto the more serious announcements, ignoring the notice from Headmaster Black that was sure to be a load of old tosh. A new piece of parchment caught your eye, pinned to the very top, the stiff paper curling upwards. With a delicate finger, you peeled it down to reveal the neat and somewhat familiar penmanship detailing a new club—a book club. Well, if that wasn't right up your street…

“Interested?”

The softly melodic voice interrupted your reading, and you turned to face Andrew, a hopeful glint in his eyes—or perhaps that was the lingering starlight still etched into your own retinas.

“Is this your book club?” you asked, surprised that the quiet boy would be interested in running such a thing.

“Yes, though I only put the notice up yesterday. Are you interested, then? I've seen you reading in the common room a lot…”

He flushed slightly, perhaps realising he'd said too much. The thought of Andrew Larson noticing you doing anything made the corners of your lips quirk upward.

“What kind of books are we talking? Not schoolwork I presume.”

“No, nothing of the sort. A little bit of everything I suppose,” he mumbled, suddenly unsure as your scrutinising gaze bore into him. Only then did you notice him clutching a book under his arm, which now appeared in front of your face—a fine green leather bound edition with gold text.

“Dickens?” you asked, tilting your head to read the cover.

He nodded. “For starters. Conan Doyle, Stevenson, Warbeck…”

You snorted a little at the last, the famous witch being an author you’d not expected him to enjoy. “Warbeck? Read a lot of romance novels, Andrew?”

“Well…maybe…,” he blushed, then took a deep breath to rally his confidence. “There's nothing wrong with branching out into other genres.”

“No, you're right,” you replied, quietly watching him. There were clearly things you didn't know about your classmate. Though you'd not admitted to it, you'd noticed him reading in the common room, too, head dipped and perfectly coiffed hair falling over his eyes as it loosened after a long day. He tended to idly bite his nails as he did so—a terrible habit, yet oddly endearing to see him so engrossed in the pages, nibbling away. At no point had you caught him with a romance novel in hand, though, and given the content of some of Warbeck’s novels you had the sneaking suspicion he kept them for bedtime.

Your mind was made up. Plunging a hand into the bag still slung over one shoulder, you pulled out a self-inking quill and returned to the parchment notice. A quick scribble and your name was the first to join the sign-up sheet.

“Welcome to the Hogwarts book club,” Andrew said, beaming. The amber flecks in his eyes glittered as he turned to face you, tucking the book back under his arm. No doubt the club would be fun, the avid reader that you were, but it might have been worth signing up just to see his smile.

Days passed with giddy anticipation, until Andrew had passed you a note during Arithmancy the following week. It had surprised you, jolting you out of a near-slumber as the neatly folded parchment fluttered onto your desk. All it contained was a date, a location, and a little doodle of a book that coaxed forth a sleepy smile, earning you a public admonishment from your professor. You'd tucked it into your robes where it stayed for the remainder of the day, fingers fumbling the edges as you walked the halls. You'd never before been so excited about an extracurricular activity that didn't involve flying spherical deathtraps, and you suspected that part of it was due to the quiet and devastatingly handsome boy running it. The first meeting of the so-far-unnamed book club would take place that evening in the Charms classroom, no doubt with Professor Ronen’s blessing yet you hoped that the man himself wouldn't be attending—it was ever so hard to relax when teachers were around.

After dinner, you took the opportunity to shower and dress more comfortably, styling your hair and paying far too much attention to your appearance. You supposed the first meeting would be a way to meet your fellow club members and vote on the first book, but you tucked a couple of your favourites in a satchel anyway, eager for any opportunity to gush about the intricately crafted worlds you'd come to love just as much as Hogwarts. You had a skip in your step as you travelled the quiet corridors towards the classroom, stopping briefly along the way to stroke a few cats, eager for attention. The landing was clear, door ajar with nothing but silence within. The eeriness had you checking the time and rereading the note that now had hundreds of creases along its length. One minute early. You pushed the door open to reveal an empty room, bathed in gold from the setting sun.

“Welcome.”

The voice made you startle, and you turned to see Andrew perched on Professor Ronen's desk, once again clutching a book under his arm.

“Hi,” you said with a smile, glancing around the room to avoid staring at him. He'd dressed in cotton breeches and a smart navy jumper, and you hadn't failed to notice the gold rimmed spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. “I'm the first to arrive?”

Andrew shuffled his boots on the floor, eyes cast downwards. “You're actually the only one who signed up.”

Now you looked at him, almost falling sideways from the weight of your bag and the way he peered over his glasses at you. “I'm surprised our fellow Ravenclaws didn't want to be involved,” you said with a quiet chuckle.

“Me too. Since it's just us, you don't have to stay.” He shrugged, though you could tell that it bothered him, the disappointment in his tight smile.

“I'd still like to carry on, if it's okay with you. Maybe more will join over the next few weeks…”

You stepped a little closer to him, debating whether to squeeze his arm in a show of solidarity and sympathy. Instead, you faltered, awkwardly swinging your arms by your sides. He didn't notice, tucking his book back into his bag as if to leave—the rejection of your company stung painfully.

“Shall we go back to the common room, then? It's more comfortable there, and…”

“Yes, good idea,” you interrupted with an audible sigh of relief.

The walk back was filled with friendly chatter, never delving too deep—questions about your classes, his plans for the weekend, the weather—and never straying to the reason you'd ventured out here in the first place. Official book talk would only commence once settled into the common room, it seemed. Andrew, taking his position as club leader, picked out two armchairs by one of the towering arched windows, the backdrop now one of inky black as night well and truly settled. Tucking your feet underneath you, you tried to get comfortable as he called the meeting to order.

“I thought we could start by discussing some books we've read recently, then agree on a title to finish before the next meeting,” he said, suddenly adopting an air of confident formality.

You tried to suppress a smile, though you weren't entirely successful. “If that's what you'd like to do. Maybe you can tell me about the last Warbeck novel you read. Please tell me it was ‘Call of the Harpy’.”

Andrew huffed, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “Actually it was ‘Dragon Fire’,” he muttered. “I'm not going to discuss that.”

Teasing out of the way, you talked about recent reads and went back and forth with suggestions. It somewhat surprised you how easy it was, falling into conversation with him until the room emptied and candles dimmed. You'd found yourself subconsciously edging closer towards him, caught up in his radiating passion. His shyness seemed to melt the longer he spoke, and you along with it. It was almost midnight by the time you agreed to delve into ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ for next time.

“Shall we meet again in a fortnight?” he asked.

You wanted to say no, demand something sooner, but instead you nodded. “Sounds good. Let's hope some more people join us,” you replied, not meaning a word of it. These few hours had been far too enjoyable in just his company, the last thing you wanted was another voice to pull his attention, as selfish as the thought was.

You finished the book in four days. The fifth was spent making notes, annotating every margin with points you thought worth discussing. The sixth had you climbing the walls, biting back the urge to storm up to the blond whenever you saw him, eager to know when your next meeting would be. You noticed him still reading almost every evening, nibbling his nails and deep in thought, and during the day you exchanged pleasantries, or passed each other like ships in the night as you mingled with your separate friendship groups. You swore you felt his eyes on you during Arithmancy. On the eighth day, you were walking back to the common room with Samantha when you noticed a fresh slip of parchment pinned to the noticeboard—how could you not, when your eyes diverted there every morning and every evening? The original notice for the Hogwarts Book Club remained in place, still bare and devoid of any signature but your own, yet on top there lay a curling piece that you knew was written by Andrew the closer you approached.

“What is it?” Samantha asked, following beside you. “I forgot you joined the book club. Maybe I should, too, but I'm so busy with chess and summoner's court…”

“You don't want to take on too much,” you replied with just the slightest pang of guilt. Your attention diverted to read the paper, happily noting that the next meeting would be only three days away. Samantha was mumbling something beside you, trying to talk herself into signing up. Part of you felt annoyance towards your classmates, and bafflement; yet another, larger part was pleased that the club was just you and Andrew. Still, the thought of his downcast eyes and obvious disappointment when he realised nobody else would be attending flared in your mind, prompting an uncomfortable twist of your stomach.

“I’m sure Andrew would be happy for another member.”

“I’ll think about it,” she hummed.

Once she'd departed for bed, you settled on a sofa facing the fire with a new book, having now exhausted everything ‘Dorian Gray’ had to offer. That night, you had company.

“Not reading your assigned text?”

You looked up to the familiar, soft voice to find big brown eyes creased from a smile. You smiled back, rolling your eyes. “I finished days ago. You're slacking."

Andrew motioned at the space next to you, a silent question you responded to with a nod. He didn't say anything else, just looked a little bashful as he turned to his book, now on the final few chapters by your estimations. Lapsing into silence, you fell back into your own story whilst the common room melted away around you, the chatter dulling to an unnoticeable hum. Only occasionally did you reach a natural pause, peering over at Andrew to check his progress, admire his profile, his slender form draped over the arm of the sofa.

“I'm finished,” he said sometime later, stretching his arms above his head to reveal a slight tuft of ash blond hair that smattered his taught abdomen. There was absolutely no way you could concentrate on your book now.

“At long last. What did you think?”

“That's a question for our next meeting.”

So instead, you talked about everything else.

A month passed and meetings came once a week or so, the time between them growing shorter and shorter. Reading together in the dimly lit common room seemed to have become routine, neither of you feeling the need to make awkward small talk to while away the hours, simply happy to sit comfortably in each other’s presence whilst immersed in other worlds. You'd not expected the friendship—grown so late in your time at Hogwarts—and somewhat missed the years that could have been. Laying in bed at night, you'd wondered if it wasn't too late for something more. His earthen eyes behind the gold frames haunted your dreams, whilst conscious hours dwelled on how soft his hair might be, or how pliant his lips against yours. He must have caught you staring, as you'd done him.

“We need a club name.”

Perched in the usual spot on your sofa, now several inches closer to the middle, you voiced the idea you'd thought of whilst Andrew had been busy updating a list of prospective books for the following week. You were so close your legs touched, bodies drawn together like magnets that seemed to ignite your skin upon contact. Neither of you flinched away, nor commented on it.

“Do we? I'm not even sure we count as a club.”

“Maybe if it was more official, people would come?”

Andrew looked at you with a curious expression, perhaps wondering why now you'd suggested recruiting more members when it had been just you two for so many weeks. His knee withdrew just an inch, and you regretted suggesting it, craving the slight pressure, the warmth. The truth was, you were nervous of where this was headed. The tension between you rippled and sparked every time you were alone, and it was just a matter of time before you cracked and did something disastrous, or potentially embarrassing.

“Hm, it can't help to try,” he chuckled. “What did you have in mind?”

“I hadn't thought that far. Erm, ‘Book Buddies’? ‘Rabid Readers’?”

He hummed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “‘Page Turners?’ ‘Once Upon a Tome?’”

Your face cracked into a smile as you grabbed the parchment and quill from Andrew's hands, fingers brushing. Your heart pounded at just the smallest touch of skin, so distracting you almost forgot what you were doing. With a quick and messy scrawl, you inked ‘Once Upon a Tome’ across the top of the paper and held it up.

“You couldn't have written that a bit neater?” Andrew said.

“I’ll let you continue to do the official notices, don't worry.”

“That's probably for the best.” He held out his hand and for one moment of insanity, you thought he was asking for yours. Of course, he was simply waiting for you to return the parchment. Embarrassingly, you couldn't help the disappointment as you rolled it up and slid it into his palm, your body reacting to the gentle brush of fingertips with a swell of warmth and affection. The exchange lasted for agonising moments, yet was over altogether too soon. Andrew tucked it into his bag on the floor but remained planted on the sofa.

“Well, that's all for this week,” he said hesitantly. “Have anything planned this evening?”

“No, nothing. Do you?”

He shook his head and bit his lip before looking at you with hope in his eyes. “Do you want to…I don't know, take a walk?” He almost flinched as if the suggestion were a terrible one.

“That sounds nice,” you replied with a warm smile. An excuse to spend even more time together wasn't to be passed up. “If we're going outside, I'll need a cloak.”

“I'll meet you here in a few minutes then?”

Donning your heaviest Winter cloak, a navy blue woolen affair, you jogged down to the common room to find him already waiting, holding a pair of black gloves. Whilst the hour was late and light was all but gone, it was still before curfew. You followed him down the tower, turning to the nearest exit that brought you into the refreshing night air. You hadn't noticed just how stuffy the common room had been with the roaring fire and mingling scents—the gentle breeze was most welcome. You talked and talked until you came to a stop on the parapet, leaning against the low wall that surrounded Hogwarts and looked out over the lake. The ripples on the surface looked too tumultuous to be caused by the wind, and you glared down at the glittering surface.

“Do you think a storm's brewing?” you asked, pointing below.

“I don't think so. Perhaps it's the mer down below.”

“You really think there's mermaids in the Black Lake?”

“I like to think so, even if it's nonsense. It can't all be grindylows and vicious fish with too many teeth down there.”

“Not a fan of the fish, Andrew?”

“I prefer my feet on dry land and fish on my dinner plate, thank you.”

You chuckled and turned your head back towards the lake, the ripples now stilling, yet you noticed something more alarming further out. The water had only stilled as the waters receeded in preparation for a wave. As if sucked into a giant plug hole, it rushed inward, bubbled, then burst outward. Andrew jolted and shouted in surprise beside you, your own mouth agape as you watched tentacles flailing and a huge, slimey head rear from the lake. You'd never seen the giant squid in all your years at Hogwarts, only heard of its size and the rumours of disappearing students who lingered too close to the water's edge. From the wall high above, you knew he couldn't reach you, but something had gotten it in a tizzy and you instinctively took a miniscule step backwards. You weren't high enough to completely avoid its spray, though, as a fine, salty mist now coated your face.

“It's amazing,” Andrew gasped.

“One word for it…monstrous is another.”

“Come on, look at it! I've never seen it before…or anything like it.” His excitement was palpable, and you almost clutched a fistful of his cloak to stop him from leaning too far over the edge.

The squid flailed again, more of a belly flop, sending a huge wave to the beach as it plunged back underwater and out of sight. Soon the only sound was the crash of water against the pebbles and your own heavy breathing. Only then did you realise you'd been clutching his arm, and his hand had found its way to the small of your back. You looked at him and he tore his eyes away from the lake, both standing in silence as the gravity of your instinctive pull to one another settled. As on the sofa, you'd found yourself growing subconsciously closer. It appeared there was no stopping it.

“You're wet,” he remarked. His eyes widened after he'd said it, his burning cheeks evaporating the water right off his skin.

“A little. So are you. It was worth it though, right?”

“Yes, it was worth it,” he said.

You weren't sure if you were talking about the squid or the fact that his hand still held firm against your back. Judging by the slightly furrowed brow, neither did he.

The new addition to the noticeboard almost blended into the myriad other notices—if it weren't for Andrew's recognisable handwriting, neat and elegant like the man himself—you’d have missed it. Of course the tiny book doodle in the corner was a giveaway for whom it was for. You read the contents, and your cheeks burned involuntarily. You had to read the note three times, inspecting every letter for forgery. It contained a date and time, and curiously, a new location. A flick of paper confirmed that no names had been added to the signup sheet for your newly titled club. Perhaps Andrew was bored of the common room, but the astronomy tower seemed an odd place for discussing literature, with not a comfortable chair in sight and no lights to speak of except the ones dotting the sky. A flicker of hope ignited, that perhaps he had other ideas for that evening.

Neither of you mentioned the curious change in venue as you chatted during classes or smiled across the laden breakfast table. You'd told Samantha everything you knew and suspected, and her dark eyes flitted between you both with a smirk on her face. By the time you were due to leave for the astronomy tower on a Tuesday evening, your friend had become insufferable in her teasing.

“Make sure you wear that perfume…”

“Sam, it's just a book club.”

“Of course it is. In the Astronomy tower. Alone.”

That final word made your stomach squirm. Still, you packed your book into your satchel and ignored the perfume sitting on the dressing table, passing Samantha with a wave met only by an eye roll. The tower was quiet, no classes scheduled and the bitter wind warding off all but the most dedicated students. Even Amit had decided to do his stargazing from the comfort of the common room that night. Andrew was already waiting, leaning against the railing and peering out at the clear night sky. Dressed in a black winter cloak, he almost blended in with the landscape were it not for his hair, almost silver in the soft moonlight.

“Strange place to meet,” you remarked, causing his head to whip around.

He shrugged, smiling shyly as you approached. “I thought it would be quiet. And…” He looked out at the sky again, as if the view was answer enough. It was.

“What would you have done if someone else had decided to join our club?” you asked.

“Apologise profusely and ask them to make themselves scarce.”

Smiling at him, you waited for him to carry on, but he seemed to be too nervous to say anymore. His gaze dropped from your eyes to your lips, throat bobbing as he swallowed deeply.

“So, why are we up here?” you prompted.

Andrew let out a deep exhale, his breath producing a cloud of mist between your faces. Mint. He'd brushed his teeth. The fact that you were now close enough to have noticed such a thing almost startled you. “I wanted to tell you something,” he said whilst shuffling his feet. He looked nervous, ready to bolt back down the stairs given the way he avoided your stare. Perhaps that's why you decided to be bold, and put him out of his misery.

“I like you, too.”

The seconds after blurting those four words out seemed to stretch into minutes, maybe even hours. Whilst you tried hard to keep your face neutral, inwardly your thoughts were in turmoil, desperately awaiting his response. Anything. Your chest hurt with the aggressive thumping of your heart, your palms felt sweaty despite the cold…

“You knew?” he asked.

“I guessed, or hoped.”

“I had a whole speech planned.”

“You can still say…” The rest of your sentence was cut off by his lips pressing against yours. The initial shock dissipated quickly, your body heating and blood rushing as it responded to his kiss. Only a tempting press of lips and it was over too soon—Andrew pulled back, the tip of his nose still brushing your skin as he took another deep, shuddering, minty breath. He seemed to be allowing you a chance to pull away, as if that were ever an option. Your hand snaked around his neck, another fisting the heavy fabric of his cloak, pulling him so eagerly he almost stumbled and fell straight into another, deeper kiss. This time he didn't hold back, gripping your waist with slender fingers, firm and sure.

You could have kicked yourself for how long you'd waited for this to happen. All those weeks spent agonisingly close on that sofa, you could have been doing this. And it was everything you'd dreamed of; his lips just as soft; tongue just as warm and offering such a gentle caress. His hands remained respectfully at your waist, yet the way he kneaded at your flesh suggested he wanted more. You shivered in response to a quiet moan as his tongue delved deeper, your bodies pressing tighter. When you finally broke for air, his fingers curled in your hair and he held you close, foreheads touching as you gathered your breath. Never before had you experienced a kiss quite like it, an outpouring of a deep well of tension. There'd be no going back now, not when you'd had a taste of him.

“Andrew...” Your voice was breathier than usual, and you felt an unmistakable twitch in his breeches. He almost pulled away, but you held him firm, lips barely brushing as you felt your own arousal simmering dangerously close to the surface. The temptation was overwhelming, yet you knew he was a gentleman. His expression was almost pained with desire.

“I won't do anything you don't want me to,” he finally said.

“I don't want you to think I go about doing this with every boy.”

He chuckled and brushed a finger under your chin, tilting your head enough to meet his gaze. Gods, he had beautiful eyes. “I don't think that. I really only wanted to tell you that I like you as more than a friend and to…well, to ask you if you'd like to accompany me to Hogsmeade at the weekend.”

A date, of course. Your mind had been in the gutter from the moment his lips met yours. Perhaps a faint flicker of disappointment had appeared on your face as Andrew smiled wider, his cheeks now a rosy pink.

“Give me three dates,” he mumbled.

You let out a nervous giggle before kissing him again. “Two, and I promise to keep my hands to myself until then.”

It was a while before you were defeated by the cold, lured back to the castle. You held hands on the walk back to the common room and Andrew cast warming charms on you both to dispel the chill. As beautiful as the view was on top of the Astronomy tower, you preferred the one right next to you. He was a little quieter than usual, perhaps nervous for what was about to come. It was only a promise of a date, yet the way your hands entwined so surely and perfectly, you had the impression that it was a mere formality, that your hearts were perhaps already promised to one another.

The end of the school year brought tears for the loss of classmates, promises to friends and a palpable excitement that rippled through the seventh years as they embarked upon new adventures. Andrew had travelled home a week earlier than most, leaving you feeling empty, despite the revelry taking place around you. Countless parties had been thrown to mark the occasion, yet you most of all missed the quiet hours spent curled up in his arms reading, talking, or much more physical pursuits. It had been worth the wait.

Along with much of the common room’s occupants you had a hangover, and inwardly cursed the Hufflepuffs for their home-brewed mead. Samantha recoiled from the soft morning light beside you, collapsing into an armchair with her trunk beside her and muttering about needing a pepperup potion. The train would be leaving in an hour, and all around you people were saying their goodbyes, perhaps for the final time. You'd be sad to see the castle go, and all the memories it held. The people you'd met would still be only an owl or floo away, though, and you looked down at Samantha's crumpled form with a fond smile. A final sweep of the room, and you were ready to go, rallying your friend with promise of hot cocoa on the train. She grumbled but traipsed behind you, until you were stopped in your tracks by something you'd missed that made your heart leap almost clean out of your chest.

You'd spotted a note on the noticeboard with the familiar little book doodle in the bottom right corner. Without Andrew, you'd not bothered to check for any notices, yet here it was—one final note for the book club that had started it all.

“Sam, I'll meet you outside…”

“Is that from Andrew?” she asked, peering over your shoulder. “Ooh, let me see!”

“I'd rather read it alone, if it's all the same to you.”

She tilted her head in disappointment but had no energy to argue, muttering about getting the information out of you later on the train as she slinked off to wait. Your gaze dropped to his beautiful handwriting, the care he'd taken to make this particular parchment worth keeping was evident. Removing it carefully from the pin, you began to read.

‘It started with Once Upon a Tome,

Now Princess, let's have our Happily Ever After,

I shall see you again in the Summer,

The beginning of our adventure.

Yours,

Prince Charming’

You held it close, warmth spreading through your tired body as the sounds of the common room evaporated around you. You recalled every minute spent with him, every date you'd squeezed into the remaining months of the school year. You owed it all to that one fateful day when you'd taken a chance to join a book club. A fairytale ending, indeed.

#andrew larson #andrew larson fanfiction #hogwarts legacy

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azullumi · 1 year

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fatui!scara with a son and his wife? (req)

summary — he had never thought that he would come to that part in his life wherein he has something he wishes to protect more than his heart, more than the ambitions that he hold.

pairing — wanderer or scaramouche/female!reader

tags — fluff, established relationship, domestic life ; headcanons

words — 714

note — hellooooo it seems like my schedule of uploading 1 fic each day is going to be delayed or put on pause for like a few weeks because im in a cultural performance for our school :DD anyways! here, i hope you'll like this anon!

Scaramouche had never thought once in his life that he will be looking forward to something at the end of the day, to have himself giddy and anxious throughout the whole time as he accomplishes his missions or sits behind his desk to do whatever paper he was given. He had never thought that he would come to that part in his life wherein he has something he wishes to protect more than his heart, more than the ambitions that he hold. he had never expected any of your arrival along with a child who has your looks and his personality.

Due to his demanding and busy schedule, usually having to accomplish tasks and missions given to him by the Tsaritsa, you rarely see him come home early and it is only on events that occur once in a blue moon that he will do so. If you ever try to stay up late in order to wait for him, however, he will scold you even if deep down he feels happy. It worries him seeing your tired state, eyes trying to stay open and body threatening to relax to sleep, and it makes him wonder how much you pushed yourself just so you could greet him once he comes home.

Although you frequently sleep with nobody by your side, you wake up with him beside you—either awake and watching you or also still asleep and trying to catch up on the rest that he needs. Occasionally, your son would also join in the bed and would be sleeping in between you two, cuddled and cradled, and when you and Scaramouche are already awake while he’s still unconscious, you’ll stay in bed a little bit longer and talk to each other quietly. It is in those peaceful moments shared in the morning that he forgets all his worries and problems.

He is usually exhausted from his work so he prefers spending time with you sleeping in bed or doing anything together that doesn’t require that much energy. He spends some of his time watching over his son and teaching him about all the things that he has to know, although majority of the time he comes off as intimidating due to his nature and personality—you have to tell him what to do to not scare his own child and to build a proper bond with him because after all, he’s a little bit clumsy and unfamiliar with such relationships and manners.

Even if he’s always away, he tries to always be there especially for his child. He makes an effort through sending letters, buying souvenirs and gifts he got from his trips, spending time with you all as much as possible once he comes home, and many more.

When he’s on his day off or break, he’ll take everyone out to spend time together—mostly in places that don't have that many people as he doesn’t wish for anyone to disturb the only time that he gets to have with his loved ones. Although if you insist and you plead for the three of you to go to a festival or event together, he’ll eventually give in but then of course, he’ll always be on his guard and have people on stand-by on each corner in case something happens. He just can’t afford being too careless.

In order to protect his family, he keeps the fact that he has a family—a wife and a son—as a secret and only close and trusted people know it. After all, he’s a Fatui Harbinger and it’s not uncommon for him to not have enemies so for his beloved ones to be safe, he’ll keep your existences in the dark and have people guarding you at all times when he’s away due to his work.

Oftentimes, he stays up all night while you’re asleep and his child is sleeping beside him and he wonders, thinking and contemplating, if he really deserved to have this kind of happiness after all the misery that he had. You were an escape to his problems, the peace to each of the conflicts that he has, bringing an illusion of serenity to his living of chaos and turmoil and if ever something happens to either of you two, he’ll gladly burn with his hands.

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lucimarinee · 2 months

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Pushover | dbf!Joel x f!Reader

Pairing: dbf!Joel x f!Reader

Summary: God knows you were born either with a spine made out of bubble wrap, or just spineless entirely, it's honestly kind of sad. It bothers you, of course, how everyone else seems to know that too. Quiet, pliable and unconfrontational, you were raised to occupy the least amount of space possible, and be out of the way most, if not all, of the time, and that's not really the recipe for an assertive, self-assured woman, now, is it? No, it's not, and you are painfully aware of that. And you become even more aware of that when you go back to Texas to visit your estranged dad, on your summer break from a college course you don't really want to pursue, to spend what was supposed to be a time of relaxation surrounded by people that seem to think it's funny to push your buttons, it annoys you to no end. But no one seems to get on your nerves more than that asshole your father calls his "best friend", Joel Miller, one of those old school kinds of men who have an irreverent attitude, a bite to their sense of humor, perceptive eyes, an unwavering voice to declare his will, and a penchant for provoking you.

Warnings: NO OUTBREAK, age gap (Joel is in his late-forties/early-fifties, reader is in her early twenties), praise kink, annoyance as foreplay /hj, fingering.

Word Count: 14,756

a/n: this was posted on ao3 first, you can find it here, but I thought that I should use my Tumblr too. This one-shot has a funny story, that being I woke up in the dead of night to write it because I "dreamed about it" when I was half asleep, I like to joke that I was possessed, I didn't stop writing until it was posted. Anyway, my first Tumblr post in this style, I hope you enjoy it :).

__________________________________________________________

You had a feeling the day was going to go badly, or at least less than ideal, but it's getting a bit too much, now.

It was just a combination of small things piling up on you.

It started in your plane, you had just boarded, barely even sat down, and a woman approached you with an attitude that reeked of veiled aggressiveness, asking you if "you'd be so kind to change seats" with her, so she could sit next to her husband. Unsure if it was the pressure of her gaze on you, or just the fact you're not very good at saying "no" , you obliged, moving from your nice window seat at the front of the plane — that you chose and paid for specifically —, to a middle seat further back.

No big deal, you thought, it was just a couple wanting to sit together, sure, they should have planned their trip better and booked their seats properly, like you did, but it would be, at the very least, unpolite if you said no. What reason did you have to deny her request, after all? "No, ma'am, I paid for this seat, I'd like to stay here" ? Sounds selfish, and you're not selfish.

Of course, the change to an uncomfortable seat, squished between two strangers, made the trip a lot longer, but eventually you landed, and it was all over. Until you heard there was a mishap with the luggage, so your baggage would be delayed, making you have to wait for God knows how long for the airline to get their shit together. Still, you sighed and nodded, there was no need to complain and go on a tirade about costumer's rights, gross neglect and incompetence on the part of the company, there were people doing that already, so you didn't have to join the misery party, you just had to wait.

You were tired, hungry, sore, and just wanted to rest, let this day be over. You just got back home — well, "home" — for summer break.

Coming back to Texas on any circumstance was a fucking chore, and it didn't help you felt obligated to, either. You were just fine out of state, as fine as you can be while pursuing a degree you didn't want, putting effort and energy on a thing your heart wasn't set on, but at least you were some place else , some place other than Austin, where you could let yourself be a little more. You were planning on going on a trip to somewhere nice, you had been saving a bit of money from your internship and side gigs with the intent of treating yourself — for once —, but your father had other plans.

He got in touch with you a few months ago, going on a rant about how you don't call or get in touch at all anymore, how you've been growing distant ever since you moved out to study, forgetting that you had a father that did everything for you, gave everything to you, that it was an ungrateful look, and how it didn't suit you.

It was his own special way of saying he missed you, and wanted you to visit.

Easy to say, you thought it was best to smooth out the situation and appease him by promising to come back on summer break, basically ruining your own plans because daddy sent you a strong worded text.

What a joke, you don't want to be there.

Another sigh leaves you, this one slightly more exasperated than the last. You hate that weather, you can feel that awful hot, humid air even when surrounded by the airport's heavy-duty air conditioning, the uncovered skin of your arms feels chilly, but it's like an uncomfortable, stuffy bubble of hot air hugs you without your permission, the phantom feeling of it makes you feel like a kid again, and you don't like it.

Some more minutes pass by, you sit down on a chair with a cold backrest after having filled a form at the airline's desk and leave it at that, swallowing back your annoyance and hoping for the best, and the best case scenario was just that your bag was misplaced in another flight, and would be hopefully arriving soon, worst case scenario, they lost the damn thing, and then — just then — it would be time to get openly upset.

But you hope it won't come to that.

"Hey." a gravely voice calls loud and clear beside you, "I thought I recognized ya."

You turn to look, and have to make a physical effort not to groan and keep yourself from making a face. God fucking damn it, it's Joel fucking Miller. He looks just like you remember him from, you don't know, a couple of years ago, from the last time you dropped by on vacation, the same rugged appearance, rough around the edges, with that same annoying, rustic charm, a bit different, though.

His hair was a bit longer, the few gray hairs you remember had grown into proper gray locks, sprinkling his head here and there, same with the beard, fuller, grayer, but somehow softer looking. But that was it for the differences, he still had the same direct and piercing eyes, like he had an aim that never missed its target, and, much to your chagrin, that same infuriating grin that you never quite understood what it meant, despite him always having it on his lips every time you were around.

"Hi." you say, getting up from your seat just out of politeness, you weren't on a hug or even a handshake basis, so you just stood there, awkwardly, stuffing your hands in your pockets like you had no idea what to do with them, "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too, doll." he huffed a little chuckle, and had it been any other person, you would have blushed a few shades redder than his flannel shirt and apologized for your lack of respect, but it was just Joel, he seemed to enjoy being aggravating like that with you, "It's been a while hasn't it? What? Couple o' years?"

Fair enough, you muster a small diplomatic smile and nod, he's right, it had been a hot minute, but if it were up to you, it would have been even longer. Joel wore a pair of jeans and a flannel that you swear you've seen him wear before, it rings so familiar in your head, like the world's most irritating alarm clock, he's a physical, walking reminder that you're back in Texas, because he's always around you whenever you're there, courtesy of your father.

The two of them are friends, and have been for the longest time, ever since you were a tween, not that you can understand why, exactly, and for once it wasn't Joel's fault, it was your father's. It just didn't make sense that your father had friends, let alone in someone like Joel, you couldn't understand for the life of you what they had in common, and how the fuck did they meet and bond. Maybe you just didn't think of your father as someone pleasant enough to befriend or keep company, in fact, you sure don't, that's why you've been avoiding coming back for as long as you did.

But he's older, so is your dad, and maybe that's why the two of them clicked, and started doing whatever they do when they're together, you're sure they must have gone out to a bar and done things old men do.

"Yeah, it really has, huh?" you say back, looking to the side, as if it was embarrassing to even make eye contact for longer than a few seconds, "It's good to see you, though, Mr. Miller."

"Mm, don't you start with the mister thing." he raised an eyebrow, still looking at you, it made your neck burn, you weren't sure why, maybe just out of awkwardness, you never really knew how to act around him, especially not alone, and he always had such an intense stare, "Makes me sound old."

"Okay then, Mr. Miller." you can't help a little, shy grin, the kind that doesn't last for long.

He looked a bit amused, if anything, not in the same way he had back when you were in high school, it wasn't so much as the cockiness that seemed to radiate off him, he just seemed genuinely impressed with you, like he figured your insistence on being respectful to your elders was your own little way of standing up for yourself, and he didn't seem to want to fight that.

"As for your question," he continues, ignoring your teasing, "I spoke to your old man earlier, he said you'd be arriving today, but that something came up at his work, and he wouldn't be able to come and pick you up, so I offered myself to fetch ya, seemed rude to let you get a taxi or something after coming home after so long, figured I'd come to give ya a proper Texan welcome."

Oh.

He must have noticed your change in expression, your polite smile faltered to give place to a confused, if not hurt, grimace, his face mimicked yours in an involuntary display of empathy, you see his strong brows knitting together like he's trying to read you and figure out what was wrong, and how to fix it.

"Oh, I..." you hesitate, you're thinking lots of things, all of a sudden, but you've always struggled to put your feelings and thoughts into words, "Sorry, I... I'm just a bit surprised. He didn't tell me anything about being held back."

You feel stupid, hadn't Joel come up to the airport and found you, you'd have been waiting for your father to show up until you realized he wouldn't come. You pick up your phone from your back pocket to check if maybe you missed a text or a phone call, but no, there was nothing, the last thing you heard from your dad was him reacting to your text telling him your flight was taking off, and at what time it was supposed to arrive, with a thumbs up.

Nothing more.

You just sigh, yet again, you had an inkling feeling this vacation wasn't going to go smoothly, but this was just the cherry on top. Joel is quiet, letting you have a moment of peace to process, but he's staring, again, he doesn't even try to hide it, his eyes, a nice shade of brown, not unlike caramel, are softer than the rough exterior he keeps up, he seems sympathetic.

"It must've slipped his mind," Joel says with a shrug of his shoulder, not dismissive, just trying to soften the situation, make you feel less bad about it, not that you really cared at that point, this was just another instance of him not showing up in twenty-something years, "You know how he can be sometimes, hardworking fella, just focused on his job and doesn't think of anything else."

He's not wrong, but you'd still think a simple text wouldn't have hurt to send. You want to be angry, at the very least a bit miffed, but you can't muster that, instead, it's just resignation and frustration that makes you feel heavy and tired, it's hard to be mad, for some reason. You never had much practice.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." you force yourself to say, even if it sounds halfhearted and a little defeated.

"You don't sound very thrilled." he snorts a little, it sounds playful, he's not being rude, just lightheartedly ribbing you.

"Sorry, I just, uhm..." you swallow and bite down a sigh, you know exactly what's going on, he doesn't need to know, "It's fine."

You weren't about to get emotional over being slighted by your own dad in front of Joel, even if you're pretty sure he was fully aware of the dynamic between the two of you.

"Well, I'm here." the man declared, his voice always had this very firm tone of finality, you figure it's probably impossible to argue with Joel, "And I'm gonna get you home all the same, ya can talk to him then. Ready to go? Didn't bring any bags?"

It takes you an embarrassing long second to figure out what he's doing, hands on his hips, looking at and around your figure for any luggage, when he doesn't see it, he quirks a brow.

"Oh, no, I did, it's just..." you start, and you can see very clearly how he takes a long, deep breath, letting his arms go slack on his sides, and you hate when he does that, because he always does it when you let it show that something is wrong, but this time you didn't even get to explain, he must know you quite well at this point, or you just do this a lot, "There was a problem with the luggage transport, it's all been delayed, so I'm waiting on that."

His posture shifts while you speak, Joel crosses his arms in front of his chest, making him look like a solid brick wall, a strong and unyielding presence in front of you, his muscles flex and push against the fabric of the sleeves, and you don't understand why, but your neck starts burning again.

"Shit, you gotta be kiddin' me." his jaw tightens and he closes his eyes, a hand moves up to rub his temple, the wrinkles that formed on his forehead when he grimaced almost seemed to highlight the greying of his hair, he's got a very rugged look to him, but it fits, you can't say it's a bad look, "Well, alright. Have you spoken to anyone 'bout this?"

"Yeah, I filled a form at the desk just a moment ago, they told me to wait." you explain.

"'Kay, but what did they say 'bout compensation? Did they offer you anything? They owe you that, y'know that, right?" Joel goes on, almost talking over you, the man seems to be taking this issue personally, too.

"Yeah, I know that."

His brows shoot up when you don't follow that with anything else, and suddenly, all his indignation seems to turn to you, "You didn't say a thing, did ya?"

You stand there, guilty as charged, pursing your lips in a thin line, because you have nothing to say in your defense, you did mention something about compensation to the guy working at the desk, but he brushed you off with some bullshit about company policy and technicalities, and you just took it like a loser, so you guess that doesn't count.

"Fuckin' Christ, alright." Joel groans, his hand flies from his temple to his forehead, where he rubs the wrinkles in frustration, it makes you feel awful, it's always like this, especially with him, he never really tried to hide that he thinks you don't have a backbone, "I'm gonna go take care o' this. Don't you go anywhere."

"What— no, Joel, wait! " you reach out for his arm, your palm touches hard, solid muscle under the flannel sleeve, and your skin feels like it's being singed even with the protection of the fabric, "Don't make it a big deal, please, they say it must be arriving soon, it's fine—"

"Hey." he interrupts your plea with his own gruff voice, but not unkindly, in fact, you're a little shocked to see how his face is so relaxed, not a trace of anger or annoyance in his features, only calmness, "I got this."

The hand on his sleeve goes slack, but your heart starts beating like crazy once he resumes his march to the airline desk you had pointed to earlier, you trail behind him like a desperate, lost puppy, your nerves firing as you try to figure out a way to avoid a conflict or any amount of confrontation, especially on your behalf, there was no need to make a fuss over you.

It's so easy to feel small next to Joel Miller, he's a whole head, and then some, taller than you, not only is he broad, his gait and demeanor are those of a man who can take whatever the world throws at him and still be standing at the end of the day, it's kind of surprising the attendant didn't burst out laughing when you just stood next to him like an anxious shortstack, while the man comfortably leaned over the counter and spoke in his raspy voice.

He had some things to say about the matter, the two men seem to engage in some back and forth you were barely listening to, Joel would speak in his booming voice and point vaguely at you, his tone was always so resolute and determined, his words were never minced, and he always knew what to say, in a usual day, you'd judge him for being too confrontational, even abrasive, but maybe it was the combination of having him standing up for you without a moment's hesitation and the way his biceps bulged whenever he made an angry gesture or placed his hands on the desk and leaned in, that made that hot bubble of air around you feel even hotter.

"Sir, the last flight just arrived, it's likely that your luggage is on the way, you're free to check—" the man behind the desk says, and you loudly breathe out in relief.

"See, Joel, it's here, let's just grab it and go." you blurt out like your life depends on it, touching his arm again, a physical plea, trying to convince him, you can't tell if it's just your mind playing tricks on you, but the touch actually makes him pause.

"This ain't done." Joel points a finger at the workers, but his body is already turning in your direction, even if his gaze doesn't immediately follow, "But it can wait. Come on, doll, let's see if we can get ya out of this place."

It's embarrassing, it really is, it makes your heart jump to your throat, you feel the burn from earlier crawl all the way to your ears, you want to sink through the ground and disappear. There was no need for this, it was ridiculous and overkill, and it was happening all for your sake.

You don't take another good luck at him until he seats himself behind the wheel of his truck, after finally loading your long awaited suitcase in the back. You're sulking on the passenger's seat, head resting on your palm, elbow on the door, staring out the window, just waiting for him to start the damn thing and drop you off, you're just so, so done with this whole airport saga, it was complete shit, from beginning to end.

While he drives, Joel looks over at you, once, twice, maybe thrice, each time just a beat longer than the last, from your peripheral vision, you catch his jaw tightening up a bit, he seems to be contemplating something, the man knows you're moody, and it isn't like you're hiding your displeased pout, but he also knows that, if he doesn't say anything, you won't either.

"It will get sorted out." he tells you, after a moment of consideration. The man leans back comfortably as a long breath leaves him, not unlike the stress sighs you're always letting out as well, he keeps just one hand low on the wheel, and he's tapping a finger to the rhythm of the music, you have to wonder how much of that he can actually hear.

"It's fine." you say, it's your mantra. It's a half lie, "Those things happen."

"Those things aren't supposed to happen, doll." he makes a point of stressing his words, a low and firm sound coming from deep inside his chest, you see his profile from the side, and you can see him pressing his lips together, the man is probably annoyed at the way you're trying to blow it all off, he doesn't like to see people walk all over you, and he doesn't like that you let them, "There's a reason why there are policies and laws and shit like that, for this exact reason."

The way you just raise your palms in the air in a clear sign of resignation tells him that's a discussion you really don't want to have, you almost expect him to push you further, like he's always done, to probe and poke at you, and lecture you on the importance of standing up for yourself like you are a child, but by then Joel already knows he's preaching to a deaf choir, so he gives it a rest.

"I'm just sayin'..." he trails off, clearing his throat.

Your gaze focus on the scenery passing you by, trees and buildings going by so fast it almost looks like they're flying, the man next to you was always a fast driver, you remember that much from a few other times he took it upon himself to be your chauffeur throughout your life, usually when your father couldn't find the time or patience to do so.

"Thanks, anyway, I mean, for... yeah, thanks." you decide to say, still not looking at him.

You can hear him grin, that's how infuriating it is, "Don't mention it."

You just scoff, a hint of a smile making the corner of your mouth twitch upwards, that was so characteristic of him, so Joel Miller, and so stupid, "Don't act like you did nothing. That was..." you roll your eyes, but you don't notice you're shaking your head, he does, though, and that only serves to amuse him even further, "Something else, man. Thanks for... making that guy shit his pants, I guess."

You snort at your own little joke, he doesn't follow, but doesn't seem displeased, either.

The landscape is so familiar, and his presence is so familiar too, the drive is long and quiet, the kind that gives you space to breathe, but never enough to let your thoughts take a more unpleasant turn.

You try not to think about the way Joel always takes care of you, in his own little way.

"How is dad?" the question falls from your mouth.

Joel turns his head to you with a certain look in his eyes, it's quite meaningful, actually, a whole conversation happens with just the two of you making eye contact, it's silent and intense, you almost feel compelled to avert your eyes and stare at the road in front of you.

He looks like he's holding back a comment.

"Same as usual. Busy, focused." his voice is dry, no emotion to it, it's hard to tell whether he's pleased by this or not, "But we keep in touch."

It's odd that Joel seems to know more about your father's well-being than you do, but he has the decency to not say anything else about the matter, if he didn't already know from his friendship with your dad, your question made it very clear that you two don't talk much, if at all, which made this whole thing even more stupid, because you still went out of your way, postponing and cancelling plans, to accommodate a father that only seemed to get in touch with you to make you feel bad about being a "bad daughter".

"Sarah is excited to see you again," Joel added, trying to change the topic, or let you know that at least one person was actually happy with the prospect of seeing you, "When I told her I was coming to pick you up, she got real hyped about it."

That brings a smile to your face.

Sarah, Joel's daughter, was just a few months older than you, that was something else your dad and Joel had in common, besides being divorced, grumpy men in their fifties, now that you think about it. Growing up, the Millers lived close to your house, close enough for Sarah to become your playmate, you'd drop by with your father to play with her, while the adults did their own thing, and vice versa.

The memory of their house is very vivid, even after not having thought about it for the longest time, you still remember the nice hardwood floors, the narrow staircase, and how on every wall — especially in Sarah's room — there were plenty of pictures of her and her dad, on her soccer practices, after championships, or just pictures they took together for the sake of it, always very happy photos, very lively. Your room never had pictures like that.

Sarah was confident, lively and funny, pretty much everything you weren't, and still aren't, she was always more extroverted than you, carrying your whole friendship almost entirely by herself, you just tagged along, ever the dedicated follower, never the leader, it never bothered her, but it bothered you.

You were never quite able to pinpoint what exactly you felt whenever you looked at the pictures on her walls, or witnessed her and Joel interacting in a lighthearted, playful manner, or even just watched her be, but now, as an adult, you can.

It was bitterness.

You were always a very bitter child, the way she could just smile, joke, talk back at Joel, make fun of him, the way he never failed to be warm, receptive, affectionate, a perfect example of a single father raising a lovely kid on his own, the juxtaposition with your home life, which was, well, less than that, was too much sometimes, the unfairness of it all, the stark, blinding contrast that always made you feel inadequate.

Inadequate, bitter, envious .

Eventually you just stopped showing up to hang out, and you two drifted apart quietly, not unlike you and your father.

You discreetly turn your eyes to the man beside you, watching him silently drive, so relaxed, so confident, his posture said it all. Joel rested a hand on top of the wheel, and his other hand on the seat beside him, not even realizing he's drumming his fingers along the tune, not even knowing his hand was right next to your leg, if he did, would he move it, or just let it stay?

His hands looked very large and firm, his fingers were thick and strong, the back of his hand had some prominent veins that moved with every subtle motion of his arm, and you found yourself wondering about the rest of his body. You're no longer a little girl, but still, there are certain things that are better left unthought about.

"How are things goin' for ya, by the way?" he asks, voice suddenly softer, "In college, and all."

"It's fine."

There he goes again, that same long, deep breath he took at the airport, that same long, deep breath he took every time he clocked you shrugging things off, trying to put no importance into them, the look he gives you along with is loud as words, he knows you too well for you to pull that card on him.

"Don't bullshit me." he deadpans.

You're about to fire back a comment about how it's not a bullshitty thing, college really was fine, you were doing well, passing all your classes, and the courses themselves were fine, nothing to complain about, not even your colleagues or professors, you have nothing bad to say about them, or at least, that's what you like to believe, the same way you like to believe you're doing great on your own, and you like to pretend there's nothing you need or want for.

"I'm not!" you protest, he doesn't buy it, you can tell by his doubtful smirk, "I'm really not, okay? Everything is going well, my classes are good, and so are my grades, the city is pretty nice, and... and... I guess, people are fine too?"

"So what's wrong, then?"

It takes a moment for you to reply.

"I don't really want to be a lawyer, okay?" your voice is low, even shy, you can feel your face getting warmer, it's such a relief to finally tell someone this, and, if not a relief, it feels good to not have it stuck in the back of your head all the time, "I never really did. I'm just... kind of going along with it, dad wants it, and at the end of the day, I don't really mind it."

Joel considers your words carefully.

"You do know," he starts, "That to be a lawyer you'll actually have to stand up to people, for once?"

There it was, the Joel Miller you knew and didn't really like, always prodding, always trying to provoke you, always trying to rile you up, always trying to force you out of your comfort zone, to get a reaction, or at least get you to feel something.

"Oh, fuck off."

You're the one to roll your eyes, you're the one to let out an exaggerated groan, because, sure, that's how things would go with him, every time you decided to let him in and let him have a little look into your world, the world inside your head, the real, raw feelings that lay beneath the surface, and you should know that better than anyone, it's just in his nature, it's not even mean spirited, he's just an asshole.

"Nah, I'm being completely fuckin' serious right now," he says, a hint of a chuckle on his voice, but he really wasn't laughing, and, much like a father who knows exactly what he's talking about, he explains himself, "You'd be swallowed whole in a courtroom, doll, and you know that too."

He has a point, unfortunately.

"I guess. That's the kind of person I am, I suppose."

Joel shakes his head.

"Don't be stupid."

You raise a hand to him, to tell him not to patronize you.

He seems like he wants to keep going, to keep yapping about how your spine has the consistency of wet spaghetti, about how you should grow a pair already and stop acting so fucking scared all the time, that you're always hiding, you're always keeping your mouth shut, that it's not the way, but he bites his tongue and decides against it, opting for a less aggravating follow up, "What would ya like to do, then? If not law."

"I don't know. I like to paint. But I know I'm not good enough."

"Says who? Yourself?" he sounds sarcastic, and that gets you even more flustered and frustrated.

"Yes, I do, because it's true," you explain, you've told this to many other people, so many times, and none of them understood, Joel isn't going to be an exception, "And it doesn't pay really well as a career, like, at all."

"Well, now you just sound like your father."

Your cheeks flush, you can feel your entire face burning now, he has no idea how much of a dickhead he's being. You're starting to regret having told him anything about it.

"Fuck off."

You say it again, in a quiet, unintimidating way. He laughs.

"If you talked to people like you're talkin' to me right now, you'd be an okay lawyer, you know that, right?" his smile is cocky, it's so stupid, but so characteristic of him, to get under your skin like this, he was the only one that could, "Not good, but okay."

"Whatever, Joel. Shut up."

It's hard not to look at the way his neck and shoulders tense when he laughs, you catch yourself looking more than you should, he has the nerve to let his hand move towards you and he pats the top of your knee, he pats your leg twice, slowly and softly.

You surprise yourself with how your stomach seems to shrink and turn at his touch.

His fingers are firm, and you feel the strength on them, you try to ignore the tingly feeling that runs up and down your leg, like some weird, unexplainable electrical charge, and how it seems to only spread from his hand. You pretend the contact isn't affecting you, it's an easy thing to do.

He lets his hand linger there, resting on your knee for a while, and you don't fucking move a muscle, and, for once, it's a deliberate choice, you're not letting him keep his hand there, you want him to keep it there, too afraid that if you move, say something, or even breathe weird, he might just take it away from you, and you'd never forgive yourself for that.

But he interprets your stillness, and your silence — and the fact you stopped breathing for a hot second, as discomfort, and Joel promptly moves his hand from your leg, placing it back on the steering wheel, like he should, he knew you enough to know you wouldn't speak up on your discomfort, but didn't know you well enough now to know why exactly you were letting him touch you like that in the first place, but the answer is very simple:

You liked it .

And it disappoints you that he withdrew it, even though that was probably for the best.

"If you ask me," the man cleared his throat, taking it upon himself to clear the air, you couldn't say he wasn't considerate when he wanted to, "Which I know ya didn't, but that ain't gonna stop me, ya should talk to your dad about this."

You give a halfhearted laugh, not really looking at him.

"What's so funny?" Joel asks.

"It won't do anyone no good, Joel," you declare, your resigned, dejected tone seems to upset him, or maybe it's the way you sound so comfortable with that tone that upsets him, "I'm almost in my senior year, anyway, a lot of money was invested in this, and besides, he wouldn't get it."

You have nothing more to say about the topic.

Joel seems like he has plenty to say, though, like he always did, "I don't think so. In my own experience, ain't a man in this world that loves a girl more than her own father, doll."

It was meant to sound like some profound advice, like Joel always did, but to you, it felt like a blow straight to your stomach.

His experience was nothing like yours, he was nothing like your dad, far from it.

But that was a good thing.

Joel parks in front of your childhood home not much later, it's been at most two, maybe three years since you were here the last time, the sight of that house shouldn't be making you feel so uncomfortable and anxious, but it did.

He gets off the car first, while you stay stuck in your uncomfortable stupor, you only come back to reality when Joel opens your door for you, a nice, chivalrous smile — as chivalrous Joel Miller can be — on his lips, making way for you.

"Welcome home, doll."

It's so hard not to blush when he says stuff like this.

Joel carries your bags inside, even though you tell him that you can take care of them yourself. He tells you not to worry. You follow him quietly, the only sounds filling the hallway are his heavy footsteps, the clanking of keys against the wooden door, and the loud tick-tocking of the old grandfather clock, you used to be kind of scared of that clock as a little girl, it made such an intimidating, imposing noise.

The house was empty, that's what you first assumed, at least, judging by how dark and neat everything was, smelling strongly of furniture polish, not a thing out of place, it felt like it was just you and Joel, in your childhood home, you tried not to let your mind wander to what would happen if it were really just you and him.

He carried your bags so easily, he must be so strong. You know he works in construction, that's why his hands look so rough, and probably feel rough, too, you didn't get to feel it on your leg thanks to the fabric of your jeans, but you're sure of it, you can almost imagine the coarseness on your skin, the warmth, he could pick you up so easily if he wanted to—

Heavy, hurried footsteps making their way down from the second floor startle you out of your thoughts, you know those steps far too well, you grew up trying to listen for them whenever the house went too silent, or when you were laying in your bed, staring at the plaster-white ceiling of your room, trying to gauge if it was safe to get out yet, or if he was in a bad mood and you should wait.

Those are your father's footsteps.

He comes down the steps in a frenzy, and his feet almost don't respond to his brain's command to stop when he finally spots you and Joel, he seemed distracted by something on his phone.

"Oh, shit— I didn't hear you enter." he says with a slightly awkward laugh, but still unabashed, it's not directed to you, however, his attention is on his friend, "Can you believe they're not going to pay me for the overtime I had to do at the office? That's ridiculous, isn't it?"

He wasn't paying attention to you, and, for a reason you don't understand, you can't help but feel relieved and happy, not like he'd actually have any energy to spare for his daughter.

Joel shook his head, a sort of smirk on his face, the way they're standing makes them look like the best of friends, and yet, something about how Joel stuffs his hands in his pockets and shifts his body slightly to your direction tells you he's unimpressed, "Hey, now." he points at you with his head, his command is clear, and you didn't think you— or your dad — would live long enough to see someone bossing him, "I brought your princess, didn't I?"

Your dad only now notices you, his face lights up, though not really in a heartwarming way, and not in a manner that you could find even remotely appealing or warm.

It was a look and reaction of a man who just remembered he forgot to pick up his child, which, in a way, he kind of did.

"There's my baby girl," he walks up to you and engulfs you in a bear hug, it's very sudden and awkward, he's squeezing you a little too tight, you never really fit in his hugs, but you hug him back nonetheless, "How was the trip?"

"It was fine." you say.

It rolls off your tongue so easily, sounds almost so beautifully rehearsed, automatic, like an answering machine, because it really is.

Joel gives you a weird look, you're not looking at him, but you can feel it burning on your nape, like he can't seem to figure out why the fuck you'd say that, when it would take at most thirty seconds to tell your father, with enough detail, what a mess it was. Your dad was a lawyer, if someone would know how to deal with an incompetent airline who almost lost your luggage, made you wait for a long time, inconvenienced you, and wouldn't budge about compensation, that someone was your dad, why wouldn't you tell him about it? Why would you opt for the almost political, statesmanlike "fine", when it's so clear by how you said it that it wasn't, in fact, "fine"?

Your dad chuckles, letting go of you, his arms move away from your shoulders and back, "I'm glad to hear that."

He says, you smile, Joel coughs.

Then it's complete silence for a second or two. No one really knows what to say, and you almost think it's your fault for answering noncommittally, but your father speaks up, before Joel does.

"It's so good to have you back, baby girl, this house has been so empty." your father says, a weird, forced chuckle at the end, Joel is starting to see where you got your awkwardness from, "I just got home from the law firm, but it was just to grab some papers, I should be heading back, but, uhm, let's have dinner later, yeah?" he was making a move for the front door, the one you closed behind you not even a few minutes ago, his eyes going back to his phone, "Joel, you and Sarah should join us, I'm sure she—"

"Now, hang on a minute," Joel cuts in, he's quick, that man never misses a beat, "You gotta go back right now? What, can't ya stay just a few more minutes? Catch up with your girl, and whatnot?"

It was very obvious — to you — what he's trying to do, Joel Miller is tactful enough to not cut a leg off just because it's bruised, but he's still a man who likes to brute force some things, and right now, he is trying to brute force you an opportunity, because Joel Miller seems to enjoy taking things upon himself that he had no business interfering in.

Your father stops in his tracks, hand frozen on the doorknob, mid-turn, he looks confused, if anything, speechless, like he couldn't think of a single possible thing to say right now, looking between his friend and you, uninterested, unfazed.

"How's... How's college?" he eventually asks, it sounds impersonal, but Joel sighs like he just won a jackpot.

He did it, he gave you a very clear opportunity, and Joel was right there beside you to support you, you could say — even if briefly, superficially — what you were thinking, what you were feeling, just to get a word out, and then maybe talk through it over dinner, with some good father-daughter quality time, a desperately needed heart-to-heart, that's what he hoped for, that was his intention behind doing that, it had to be.

"It's fine." you say, a short answer, nothing too detailed, and a complete lie.

A look of exasperation and confusion crosses Joel's eyes.

Your father, though, smiles, that same diplomatic, polite smile you always give people, and he nods, "I'm glad to hear, dear."

You three stand still where you are, you because it's routine, your father because he's confused and awkward, and Joel because he's too fucking astonished to move a fucking muscle.

"Well, we can talk more about it when I get back." your dad declared, the door lock clicked and he was about to leave, "Dinner tonight, guys."

Your dad is out the door not long after that, it closes with a slam behind him, leaving you and Joel in a cold, stale-smelling home.

For a long time, nothing is said between the two of you.

"Alright." you mutter, almost as if to yourself, taking your bag in your hand, the wheels clattering against the floor, and Joel moves behind you, following you upstairs to your room.

"Are you— You can't be serious right now," he says, trying to mask his complete bewilderment, and doing a shit job at it, " 'It's fine' ?!"

He tries to say it like you would say, a high, mocking, shaky voice, his arms open in a defeated, almost hopeless, manner.

"Joel, not now," you tell him, walking down the long hallway, and not looking back at him, "I'll be sleeping."

"What— no."

You try closing the door to your room, but it slams loudly on Joel's open palm with a lot of force, you're pretty sure you didn't close it that hard, that was his doing, you still can't help, though, to feel more worried about your door than about his hand. He pushed it wide open again, towering on your door frame, but didn't cross the threshold, you felt weirdly trapped, your bag and your body feel heavy, you set the luggage down.

Joel's expression is unlike any other you've ever seen, and the look in his eyes is so intense, full of indignation, your knees wobble a bit under his scrutiny, you hate yourself for that, you don't want him to notice that, he shouldn't be seeing you so affected.

"Y'know, I used to think you were just a very weird kid," he starts, Joel sounds legitimately, personally offended, his outrage is palpable, it's like he can't barely keep it in, but it's trying to so very hard, "Just— painfully shy, didn't know how to talk to no one, didn't really talk at all, went along with everything, and everything was fine, 'cause that's what you always said, all the fuckin' time, and I really thought it was, for the longest time."

"Joel—"

"No." his tone leaves no room for discussion, his expression hard, but when you immediately shut up, it almost seems to upset him more, "I really thought you'd grow out of the pushover phase, I even thought I could help it by urging you a little—"

"I'm not a pushover!" you frown, trying to sound strong and firm, but it was clear the words had no bite to them.

"Oh, bull-fucking-shit, doll, you're the biggest pushover I've ever met," he scoffs at you, still leaning against the frame of your bedroom door, "As a kid, you'd go along with whatever Sarah wanted to do, as a teen, I had to witness you going out with the most stupid looking boys I've ever had the displeasure of setting my eyes on, now you're a grown-ass pushover!"

"Why are you mad at me?" you ask, you're so fucking confused, you feel attacked, really, literally cornered by the man. On any other day, you'd be bawling your eyes out, but Jesus fucking Christ, you were so done with today, you have been bottling up so much shit you could feel your bile taint your mouth with its bitter taste, you were furious.

"I'm not mad at you, doll, I'm mad for you."

After he says that, there's a pause, he didn't mean to get into a yelling match with you, and he looked disheartened. Joel rubbed one of his big palms over his face, like he's suddenly feeling so much more tired than before.

He was such a caring man, and it makes your chest feel warm, even though his concern for you wasn't your idea of a nice conversation.

"I'm mad for you, because this sucks, girl," he says, sounding tired, he takes a deep breath, and then his voice gets more serious, lower, calmer, and you know he's getting his emotions in check, "Your dad is a good friend, though I'm starting to question how good of a father he is, if even he pushes you 'round like this, but c'mon, doll, you ain't a little girl anymore."

"Oh, shut up." you scoff, this time your tone has more venom behind it, your voice gets higher, but still doesn't come out as a scream, and your body is shaking from rage, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't I?" he scoffs back, but on his lips a smirk appears, fuck, he's doing it again, he's playing with you, just like he always did to urge you, to get on your nerves, to see how far he could push you until you blow up, but the only reason you never blew up was because no one would be there to pick up the pieces.

"Let us see if I don't, then," Joel continues, just his head trespasses the threshold of your room, like the rest of his body is being held back by some invisible force, he wants to provoke you, but at the same time seems to have no intention of violating your space, it was a weird mix of things, you never understood him, "You're a fine, grown woman, studying something ya don't wanna study, going places ya don't wanna go, talking to people ya don't wanna talk to, hell, doll, what else is being shoved down your throat, and you just take it without a peep? Do the guys you go out with also trample all over you?"

"Just shut up." you repeat yourself, and he smirks wider, because it's working, he can see it in how tensed your posture became, he could feel it, and the worst part is that it was true, every word of it.

"What is it that you want, huh? I ain't ever heard that combination of words come out o' your mouth, ‘I want’ , even as a kid, I have no fuckin' idea of what you really want, of what you'd ask of someone, and it's starting to look like you don't either."

"Oh, my God— I want you to shut the fuck up, Joel, and close the goddamn door! How 'bout that?!" you explode, yelling, it wasn't even a particularly high or loud voice, but your outburst was unexpected, you couldn't hold back, your anger had nowhere else to go but forward, you didn't mean to yell, but you did.

It came out of your chest with so much force you could feel your face going red from embarrassment.

He blinked.

Once, twice.

You'd have thought you broke him, the look of surprise in his face, and the silence that fell upon the two of you was unnerving, but at least you made him stop talking, at least the constant, buzzing noise in the back of your mind is no longer there, it's blissfully quiet.

"Very well." he nods decidedly, and closes the door.

Joel closes the door behind him, finally stepping into your room, the heavy lock clicks, the air feels thicker, like he's somehow managed to take the whole thing up a notch, and, to be fair, he fucking did.

"That's a good start." it sounds like praise, because it is praise, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates inside your stomach and shoots directly down between your legs.

It's the kind of voice that has no business existing outside of a bedroom, you think, his southern drawl dripping on each of the words like hot, sticky honey, and you could just fucking cry from how arousing it actually was.

He walks in further in slow, careful steps, like you're some kind of wild animal, Joel's body moves towards you, eyes fixed, never breaking the staring contest you two started.

Joel Miller's presence was already overwhelming on itself, his physical height, his build, the way he looked like he could easily snap you in half, but you've seen this man care for his daughter more times than you can remember, you've seen him go out of his way for people who couldn't stand him, his family, and most importantly, you, the kid he babysat whenever your dad just had to stay late somewhere.

He wasn't scary, quite the opposite, he was magnetic, upsettingly so.

"So, doll," Joel continues, "How's it going to be?"

His eyes are intense, his presence is so, so big, you're feeling smaller by the minute, and yet he still didn't even get that close, still didn't try to touch you, he was waiting for an answer.

"What?"

"'Cause I ain't goin' to ask again, I don't like to repeat myself," he said, the tone was softer than what the words sounded like, almost reassuring, it was so different to what you're used to, his face gets closer, you could see his beard better now, and his eyes were unbearably dark, "I ain't doin' a damn thing, unless you tell me what ya want."

What a low blow, but that's how Joel Miller was, the man never played fair.

"I can't." you tell him, voice soft and weak, but there was an undertone of rage to it, the fact that you knew exactly what you wanted to say and how, and he knew that, too, it was maddening.

He has the gall to roll his eyes and click his tongue at you, like he's annoyed at having to repeat himself for a third time, you can't believe it, and his hands come to rest on his hips, his body open, so you can clearly see, read him like a fucking open book.

"I ain't going nowhere, I ain't leaving this room, unless you say something," Joel starts again, a very deep frown between his brows, you'd even dare say that he's frustrated, and then it comes again, his voice, so low, it was nothing more than a rumble, and yet the hairs of your arm and neck are raised, you shudder, "Now, how is it gonna be, sweetheart? I'm all ears."

It was a clear invitation, he wasn't asking you again, the question had an ultimatum, and it wasn't hard to tell that this is Joel's idea of giving you the push you need to break free.

A breath you didn't realize you were holding came out shakily, a lot of pent-up emotions coming up to the surface, but Joel waited, you were the one in charge, you were the one setting the pace here.

And if there was something you knew about him, it was just how stubborn he could be, growing up with that fucking asshole pushing your damn buttons all the time taught you that much, but the intent behind his attitude was never really clear— until now. He was an asshole, but he was an asshole of his word, once you took control of the wheel, there would be no going back, but you do have a choice — which was his point all along —, you can either tell him to leave, or tell him what you really want, but you have to say it like you mean it.

"I don't want you to leave." you say, your voice is low, but that's just because you don't trust what kinds of sound could escape from your mouth if you tried to talk louder.

"Okay." Joel nods at you, his smirk is a full smile now, a proud grin on his lips, but that wasn't good enough for him, not the answer he wanted to hear, and he tells you so, "You're doing good, doll, but let's be more positive, aight? I wanna hear you say what you want ."

Fuck, you're trembling, he's close, so close to you, your sense of smell is so heightened, you think, because the scent of his cologne is the only thing you can smell in that small room of yours, the deep breath you take is not even voluntary, your body is reacting on its on, the tingling, fluttering feeling you felt through your body sets and pools in your lower tummy, it's an all too familiar sensation, the arousal is undeniable.

You got all wet just with some soft words and his smell, and you know he's noticing it, it was clear, not even in a million years would Joel miss how his proximity is affecting you, his gaze is unbearable.

You'd rather not say it, but there's no other choice, your words have to come out crystal clear, otherwise he's just going to stay there and make you wait for him, that was also part of his little game, so, for fuck's sake, you take the bull by the horns, and you take another step.

"I want you to stay." Your chest heaves with your breathing, but your tone is unmistakable, he wanted to hear your voice, so there you go, saying exactly what's on your mind, your real thoughts, the ones you wouldn't dare saying aloud.

Joel looks impressed.

"Atta girl." there's a new intensity in his gaze, the smugness and pride is still there, but you've seen that kind of look before on other men, that glint of thirst, it's the most dangerous one, "Then I'll stay, darlin'. See? Wasn't it easy?"

" No. " you find it in yourself to huff, your newfound braveness is a surprise even to you, but it's hard to be anxious and self-conscious when he's moving closer to you so decidedly, "Nothing is ever easy with you."

He tilts his head to the side briefly, a small gesture of agreement, his steps are slow, but not as calculated anymore, they're shorter now, his eyes are still locked on yours, but the tension that you felt so keenly in the beginning, that air of challenge was gone, his entire focus was now solely on you.

"Guilty as charged," Joel chuckles, a hand reaching to your cheek, and the moment his thumb makes contact with your skin, you lean into the touch, it feels cold against your burning face, and it's probably the only thing keeping you from melting completely, "But doesn't it feel good, to finally let out the truth?"

His thumb moves along the softness of your cheek, he caresses the apple of it, his eyes darting down to look at your lips, his smile gets even softer, and then he says, "To finally be honest with yourself and say what you want."

His hand slides from your cheek down to the curve of your chin, and then, he cups it with a gentleness that surprised you, but then you remembered, this was no stranger, this was Joel, and the knowledge of knowing this is the same man who has watched you grow up made something hot and sticky build up in the pit of your belly, a desire so powerful that it has your brain go all mushy, your words stuck in the back of your throat, it was a pain to get them out.

" Touch me. "

Joel Miller has no right being that attractive, he shouldn't look this good, he should not have this effect on you, he had no right on having you in such an infuriating and sudden chokehold, he wasn't even trying.

You couldn't find the words to describe exactly what you’re feeling, they were all lost in a muddle of lust, it's an unbearable, mind-numbing kind of horny that had your whole body reacting so quickly to such simple actions, it was a mix of things that were starting to make you feel out of sorts.

It's not just the arousal, nor just the fact that he's here with you, so close to you that you could feel the warmth emanating from his big body, nor even just the fact that, since you're on a roll of being honest and letting loose of your inhibitions, this was your long time crush touching you, hooking his hands below your ass to lift you up as easily as he picked up your luggage from the airport.

The yelp you let out is far from the most graceful noise you ever made, your arms shoot around his neck to steady yourself, but aside from the abrupt rising, you were never at risk of falling, his arms are so solid under your thighs, more solid than the floor that was under your feet just a few seconds ago, you feel. Your core is pressed flush against his abdomen, you can feel his body warmth, and you've never been so glad to be wearing good denim pants, otherwise you would have made a mess on him just by being held.

"No need to be scared." Joel snarks, carrying you somewhere.

"A little word of warning would've been nice, though," you say back, his nose is so close to yours, and it makes your face feel warm, even the tip of his beard tickled the side of your cheek, he smelled so nice, you really are a mess.

"Oh, sorry, princess, next time, I'll do just that, just let me put you where you want first." his drawl is the last drop, his smirk is so self-assured, he knows he's dangling a treat over your head.

Joel sets you down on your room's desk, the man sets his hands firmly on top of your thighs and unceremoniously spreads them wide, making room for his body, and your eyes are just glued to the view, looking down at the show he was putting on of how your bodies seemed to be aligned to fit so perfectly together, your imagination ran wild trying to picture just how obscenely hot it would be to watch yourself get stretched out by his cock from that angle.

You set your own hand on his chest, and you don't know if it's his cologne, or if it's him, but he smells so nice, he has a musky, earthy scent of man that had you dizzy and out of focus.

"Hey, look at me." he commanded you, lifting your chin up with his fingers, "I ain't doin' anything until ya tell me, remember? How's it gonna be, darlin'?"

"Oh, you're unbelievable..." you shake your head, your words come out riding a laugh, he had you just where he wanted, the only thing stopping you was just your clothes, but he still was dead set on making you spell it all out for him.

"C'mon, doll," Joel insists, a smirk pulling the side of his mouth up, his fingers digging deeper into your thighs, you could see the shape of his dick pressing hard against the front of his pants, his other hand moving up, ghosting over your waist and chest, "It's an easy question, ya just gotta say the word, what's the holdup?"

The holdup was your pride, and maybe some remnants of shame you felt, you were never the bold kind, or the kind that openly spoke of her sexual desires and wants, that's the kind of person you never saw yourself as, even as an adult with an active sex life, so when faced with Joel, his hard-set insistence, the challenge in his dark, lust filled eyes and his soft, deep voice presented to you, the request seemed out of character.

Your words are there, but it was so difficult to bring them to light, they're at the tip of your tongue.

"We gotta practice that assertiveness, if you're really going through law school." Joel quips, and he knows exactly what he's doing, it was just the final push of well-meaning annoyance to get you talking, because how could you put up with his teasing and mocking you and not tell him to just shut the fuck up and kiss you already.

"Shut up."

He did shut up.

Joel shut the fuck up, and closed the short distance between your lips and his.

The first brush of lips was a question, barely touching yours, but it was enough to make you let out a pathetic, expectant little sigh. The second one, you met him in the middle, unwilling to let him keep toying with you like that, finding a place for your lips between his.

Joel was kissing you.

You've been waiting for that kiss for years now.

Well, maybe two, max, but that was more than enough for you.

Growing impatient with those sweet pecks, you're the first to part your lips, you brush your tongue over his bottom lip sheepishly, but with an eagerness of a person who has been denied something she wanted for such a long time, he pulls back slightly just to spite you, but Joel is far gone at this point, too. One of his hands shoots up to grab hold of your face with such despair it almost hits you, "Sorry.", he tries to murmur, but it gets lost in your mouths as soon as the apology comes out. Lord, his tongue, though.

Joel tastes like nothing else, a combination of scotch and a very distinct, personal taste that had you salivating for more. Your teeth click, a mess of lips and tongue, his beard scratching you, and it's probably the hottest fucking thing in the whole world to feel. His breath comes out harshly through his nostrils, and he lets out a guttural groan as the hand on your face goes down, exploring your neck and shoulders, keeping you still by your throat, a cheeky thumb pressing down on the hollow that your pulse ran through, just enough to feel it.

He's showing off, that much is clear to you, by the way he's so unabashed about how his tongue is in your mouth and yours is in his, the wet sounds you make echo through the room, the quiet sighs, moans and hums he's drawing out of you, it makes you feel suddenly bashful.

"Oh, don't go shy on me now, doll, c'mon." Joel pulls back, his breath fanning hot on your lips, the thumb at your neck moves down and rubs circles on your collarbones, he's got this smug smirk on his face, you've always wanted to wipe it off.

"Jesus— shut the fuck up, Joel." it comes out so much easier now that you've got a taste of him, it was all too clear to you what you really want.

He smiles, he smiles that smile you know means he's about to be a jackass, and the look on his face was pure sin.

"Keep him out o' this, princess." his low laugh rumbles through his chest, his mouth is so close to yours, he was clearly teasing you, testing your resolve, his grip on your thigh was so hard that it had a delicious sting, it had you all aflame inside and out, the tension between you so palpable, so thick you could cut it with a knife, "Ain't nothing holy 'bout what I wanna do to ya."

The next thing that came out of your mouth was just an unintelligible whimper, the way his lips and beard pressed and rubbed against the soft skin of your throat felt heavenly, it tickled just the slightest, but it wasn't enough to make you pull away. You tipped your head to the side and offered your neck to him, giving him space to do as he pleased, and Joel, like a moth to a flame, moved quickly.

His mouth was so hot, his teeth biting a mark onto the crook of your neck, making you let out a soundless, shuddery breath, a sharp, small gasp followed after a second of realization, that's gonna leave a mark, and you have no idea how to explain that to your father, hiding it just doesn't seem like a reliable option, but then you feel it, Joel's lips curling up in a smile against your flesh, that fucking bastard , he did it on purpose.

With a kiss and a long swipe of his tongue over the bite, he appeases you, the worry and surprise wear off as he licks the salt off your skin, Joel is relentless in his pursuit, he's trying to take everything off of you, your taste, your breath, your moans and sighs, he's set out on devouring you.

"God, ya look so good, darlin'. Look at you." he murmurs into your neck, his voice is strained, the drawl he puts on the pet names so obvious, and so incredibly sexy, it has a direct link to the growing dampness that has taken over the seat of your panties, his eyes move up slowly, the appreciation he's making it very obvious that he sees you as nothing less than a feast.

You could barely take it.

"Fuck." your voice comes out strangled, a newfound boldness fills your mind, the warmth in your body making you brazen. Your hands shot down to the fly of your jeans, "Stop looking at me like that, for fuck's sake—"

The sight of your hands going for your pants had a riveting effect on Joel, he went from teasing and self-satisfied to horny in an instant, and he seemed to have forgotten everything he was doing and that idiotic fucking game he was playing with you, he watched, rapt and eager as you unbuttoned and unzipped a way for him, and he's not very patient, not right now.

Joel doesn't wait for you to try and get the damn thing off your body before he pulls — better yet, yanks you — to him by your nape for another kiss, and presses his other hand on your tummy with clear intent, sliding a tantalizing trail down, until he can stuff his fingers right down your jeans and the seat of your panties.

"Wait—" you gasp, not able to fight off his iron grip on you, but it's not like you want to, "Let me get them off—"

"Ain't no need for that." Joel denies, shaking his head slightly, the hand in the back of your neck keeps you from pulling away from him, the kiss that he plants on your lips is rough, it's bruising in the best of ways, you feel it on your cheeks, but most importantly, you feel his fingertips slide easily past the waistband of your panties, just then he allows you to lean back ever so slightly, probably with the selfish motivation of being able to touch you better — as selfish as that can be.

God , you're a mess, you can feel it as his finger first touches you, sliding down your folds, just how obscenely wet it feels, the shuddering breath you let out when his digit meets your clit is just embarrassing. You have never, ever been so horny in your life.

Joel chuckles, not mockingly, he just thinks your reactions are the most adorable fucking thing, his voice is muffled when he talks into your neck, you can barely feel it as he moves to whisper in your ear, his finger tracing lazy, tight circles over your clit, "You're so fuckin' wet, sweetheart," he groans, your fingers have a vice grip on his arms, "That for me?"

Yes, yes, yes . Fucking yes, that's all because of him, and you got like that even before that motherfucker laid a finger on you, but he didn't need to know that, the last thing Joel Miller needed was that big of an ego boost, or else you were gonna find yourself a real problem to deal with.

"Fuck—" you bite back a sob, but can't hold back how your body jolts as a reaction to his touch, those fucking little circles, the slickness makes his finger glide over your sensitive little nub, he's barely even applying pressure, just taking his time getting acquainted with how you like it, he's mapping your actions and reactions like he hasn’t known you for pretty much forever, his beard and teeth and lips still kissing and biting a hot trail from one side of your neck to the other, you'll be a mess once this is over, and you hope it never ends, "C'mon— Joel— I thought we were getting to the good part?"

He lets out an indignant little snort, the sound he makes as he nips at the hinge of your jaw is something you have no way to describe, he wants a fucking piece of you, he wants it all, the thought sends your heart fluttering, you had no way to know, but this was just the appetizer of the main course.

Joel hums, he hums into the space between your jaw and ear, his finger not leaving the top of your cunt, and it's starting to get really frustrating, you could feel a spark, something that could've become something, if only he put some actual work into it.

"Ya got somewhere to go?" he teases, "So impatient..."

"C'mon, Joel, please ..." your plea clearly has an effect, you can feel the low rumble in his chest, he can't stop himself, even though you could see the glint of something devious in his dark brown eyes, a cheeky finger moving lower, searching, rubbing down your pussy, Joel is taking his sweet, sweet time with it all," Please, I want you insi—"

His thick, rough digit easily pushes past the wet, tight rim of your opening, his fingertip sinks inside, just the barest of it, but it's enough for you to lose it for a second, his touch has a jolt shooting up your whole body, your nails digging into his shoulders, the surprised moan you let out makes your cheeks burn hotter than before, it's so different to be touched by someone else, it feels like he could do whatever he wanted to you, and he'd make you take it.

There's absolutely no way anyone else could touch you like he does.

No man in this world would ever be as good as him, it was that simple, it was a truth you knew well and true.

Joel was a force of nature, you could never understand it, not even if you tried.

Your breath catches in your throat, a sharp gasp follows his finger pressing further in, it's just so fucking good to have something filling you in, filling up that insane emptiness you were feeling just a second before, it slides in so easily, making squelching sounds as your wet cunt opens up around it, taking it all, as much as he can give it to you, sliding in and out, just to test how wet and pliant your cunt is for him.

"Oh, fuck... God, yes, yes , Joel, like that." the praise, the satisfaction that's coming from your words seem to do things to Joel, too. His body moves forward, trying to press closer to yours, his face buries deep into the crook of your neck, the scent of his hair, the scent of his cologne, the sweat he's breaking, his warm breath fanning out and spreading a hot, wet wave on your skin, you hug him for dear fucking life, if the desk under you gives in, you at least know you can hang onto him, your nails latch on the fabric of his red flannel, desperate.

"You're doin' so good, baby," you hear him speak against your throat, he kisses you there, right below your ear, the vibration of his deep voice is something you'll feel in your core, forever, it'll never go away, it'll follow you, it'll stay in your memory and will come back every time you think of him, of the moment you got fingerfucked by him on top of your desk, "So fuckin' good , look at you."

God, how are you going to forget about that? It was going to drive you crazy for days, months, years to come, just thinking about Joel praising you and fingering you at the same time was almost too much. You felt his fingers wrap around a fistful of your hair, his lips on yours again, just as he slides another finger in. Fuck, if he could keep doing that— if you two could keep that up for the rest of your break, Texas would never be so fucking awful anymore, you'd come back again every time, at every opportunity, just for him.

It's just too good, the friction, the growing moans and whines that spill from your mouth are swallowed by him, and they just seem to make him go on, go harder and deeper, a curl of his fingers hits something so right that a full-bodied shudder passes through you on a round trip, a sob wrenched from your throat. He smirks, and keeps hitting the spot over and over, until he has you squirming and bucking your hips up in his direction, grinding, riding his fingers like a desperate girl, so filthy.

"Fuck— please, Joel— god, right there—!" you hiccup, your mouth hangs open as you squeeze your eyes shut, for a moment the only sounds that can be heard are his breathing, the quiet muttered praises he showers you in that you can't quite make out right now, and that wet symphony of your pussy around his thick fingers, your voice seems to clog and get stuck on your throat, your tummy tightens up, like a coil, the pleasure so overwhelming.

One of your hands slams loudly on the wood under you, just holding on to him isn't enough anymore, the firmness of the desk provides you with just enough support to brace for what it felt like imminent impact.

"C'mon, doll," he urges you, he can feel you fluttering and clenching around his fingers, holding on to his knuckles, God, it's one of his favorite feelings now, no pussy ever felt like yours, and he didn't even get to see the damn fucking thing yet, just fingering you under your beat up jeans was more fun and satisfying than most sex he'd had as of recently, "Show me— c'mon, that's it," he speaks lowly, "I want you to cum for me, alright, sweetheart, cum for me."

Your voice breaks free in a mellow shriek, a gasp for air, a loud sigh of relief as it washes over you like a tidal wave.

"fuckJoelyesyesyesYESpleaseitfeelssofuckinggood—"

What comes out of your mouth is just a string of undecipherable, desperate, whiny moans, your whole body jerks forwards, and it almost feels like falling, but he's there right in front of you, strong as ever, more than anyone you've ever met, to hold on to you, kissing soothing patches on the little skin your t-shirt offers him, but he'll take it, he'll take everything he can get, he'll kiss you forever, if he can.

Joel only lets go of you — barely — back on the desk when your whole being relaxes from the sudden tension, you had gone slack in his arms, but that's not new. His hands come back out of the confines of your pants, and the wetness he found inside makes your thighs shiver, a faint silky, translucent trail connects you for a moment, before it's gone as quickly as it came.

God, your legs feel like jelly, you don't think you have it in you to walk, but it can't stop you from trying. What can stop you from trying, however, is the man in front of you.

"Nah, ah, slow down." he reprimands, pulling you back up before the tip of your toes could even touch the floor, though his tone isn't stern, and he has a grin on his face when he simply sticks his fingers, all coated in your arousal, inside your mouth, "Don't go runnin' off on me."

There's no energy left in you, or will, to fight him, he can call you a fucking pushover if he wants to, but you do as he clearly commanded, sucking his digits clean, eating your own release straight from his fingers.

He's pleased, with you, with your blatant display of compliance, of eagerness and how willing you were to be so goddamn dirty in a heartbeat. Joel is pleased with you.

"There's a good girl," Joel mumbles, his dark eyes fixed on yours, he looks like he's not able to take them off you, like if he blinks, he'll miss something really, really good, "Just perfect, darlin’, you’re perfect."

The words sound like a lull, his thumb moves to trace the line of your bottom lip, your eyes flutter close, and the weight of your own exhaustion presses on you. A soft smile curls his lips, it's warm and sincere, you feel like melting in a puddle at the sight, it was hard not to give into it.

"Hey..." he calls out for you, pulling you a bit closer, just so he can brush your nose with his.

You blink, a little lost, you could get so lost in him.

"Fuck, did I knock you out?" he chuckles, lovingly pulling you against him, you rest your chin on his shoulder, and let him do what he wants with your hair, run his clean hand through your locks, he's kissing the shell of your ear again.

"Maybe." Joel can hear the smile on your voice as you say it, you take in a deep breath, almost as if you didn't get enough air throughout all this, "This was... insane."

"Is that a compliment?" his laugh, so clear, and his breath tickling the side of your neck has a warmth spread on your chest.

"Absolutely." you nod, your arms come to lock around his frame, almost like a hug. It's funny, that's probably the first time you ever hugged him, "Don't get too used to it, if you don't start changing up your attitude a bit."

His response is an annoyed grunt meant only halfheartedly, you almost think it's a threat of a laugh, actually, "I'll take what I can get, then."

Joel pushes you away a little, just so he can get a good look at you, his eyes roam your current less than regal state with an almost worried glint to them, trying to gauge if you're okay, or if there was something else you needed. He's always been very attentive to details, after all, his eyes linger a bit on your hair, a little longer than what you think it should.

"So," he starts, not knowing if he should bring this up, but, well, the thought had already crossed his mind, so he just let the question come out, "Was it worth it? Using your words?"

"It... was. I liked it a lot, honestly, you— you did great, I wasn't expecting... you know."

"Uh, yes, I was not expecting it either."

A soft laugh leaves your mouth, a smile plays on your lips.

"Oh, so it wasn't a plan of yours all along? Some machination of yours?" your tease earns you a very dragged out eye roll, it takes another laugh out of you.

"What do ya think I am? Some kind of mastermind?" he scoffs, shaking his head, and looking a little bit hurt, like you'd offended him, "You know, not everythin' that I say has some kinda double meanin'. Not everyone's like that."

"No, no, I get it," you assure, patting him in the shoulder, "Not everything you say is some secret agenda."

Joel's frown and slightly pinched expression dissolves with that, a tiny sigh leaving his lips, and he takes a few steps backwards, to give you space enough to put yourself, "Think ya can fix yourself up? Take a nice shower, put on some clothes that don't smell like fuckin' Boston?"

You cock your head to the side, and look down at yourself, then at him, "What about you, though?"

"Me?" Joel seems legitimately confused for a second, until he follows your gaze down, his hard on is still there, hard as ever, straining the denim of his pants. He looks back at you, a brow raised, arms crossed, you know that posture, some stupid fucking quip is about to come out of his mouth, "Think you can take it?"

The idea has a shiver running through you, you felt the dull ache on your inner walls, even as your breathing steadied.

"I don't think you can, not right now." he says before you can get a word in, and he grins at you, it's different that his other grins he'd always give you before, but it has the same fondness, "I'll be fine, I'm a grown man, I can handle it."

He could say that all he wanted, but you still see the discomfort, the little fidgety moves he does to find a good way to position his junk.

You could do it, though. If it came to that.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure you need a fucking shower." he claps back instantly, not giving into your offer, "I made a mess all over you."

"So crude, Jesus..." you scoff, but your feet dangle under you, completely carefree, the edge of the desk is digging on to your flesh, you think it'll bruise a bit, you can feel it in your ass, it was worth it, "You kiss your daughter with that mouth?"

"Sure, all the time." Joel grins, and takes the liberty of starting to tuck in his flannel back into the hem of his jeans, "And do even worse shit to you."

"Wow, real fucking classy." your voice is laced with sarcasm, though it lacks bite, your legs sway left to right as you watch him put himself back in order. It's such a mundane task, really, and you feel a little dumb for not realizing how you pulled and tugged at him, though he doesn't seem to mind.

Silence falls over you both as he finishes putting himself back in order, it's a comfortable kind of silence, for once, but Joel is still the first one to break it.

"If ya need me to, I'll stay a bit longer until after you shower, help you put your things in place..." he's interrupted by a buzz, Joel reaches a hand to his front pocket for his phone, an iPhone half a dozen generations old, checks the screen, and stuffs it back in, unbothered, "That kind of thing."

Your brows shoot up in curiosity, he didn't even pay whatever it was on his phone half his mind, his attention never faltered from you, his offer still hangs in the air, you want him to stay, but—

"Don't you have... things to do?" you ask, genuinely curious, "I mean, someone rang you up."

"It's just Sarah textin' me, askin' if I picked you up from the airport already, because I seem to be takin’ a long time to come back." Joel explains it to you, his gaze sweeps your desk and the floor, where the little chaos your activities had brought to it was. The laptop's screen has gone dark, so it probably died, but it's the only thing he could see out of order, "Should I tell her?"

He smiles at how you laughed, the affection in his gaze makes you feel warm inside.

"Don't you dare," you reply, jumping from the desk, your knees a little wobbly, and you fall right into his arms. Joel doesn't mind holding you, keeping you close to him, you feel like the luckiest woman in the whole state, maybe in the world, "But you should go back to her, y'know? She's your daughter."

"Yeah, I didn't forget that." he seems to not have forgotten how to be sarcastic, either, "But I know she's fine, you sure you don't want me to stay."

"It's fine." you say with a shake of your head.

Joel, like you were watching an old scene from an old movie, takes that characteristic deep breath of his, the trigger seems to be your tagline, it riles him up so much, apparently. You think it's funny.

"Fine— girl, didn't we have a whole conversation about this? I had to finger more words into your vocabulary, do I have to fuck this one out of you?" his exasperation, like his smile, is soft and tender, the scowl on his face, though, it's almost intimidating, if it wasn't because you already had him all figured out.

"You can try." your words have a double meaning, a playful note, but you meant every word. You'd let him have your body if he so much as asked for it, Joel already knows that, however.

"I mean it, it's alright."

"Do you?" he presses you further, he wants to make sure you're not just saying that for the sake of it, brushing his offer off just because it could apparently inconvenience him, you forgot, for a moment, how that man was stubborn as a fucking mule.

"I do." your tone is decided, "Besides, you two will come for dinner with my dad and I, right? He invited you."

"Yeah, he did." Joel muses, a bit lost on his thoughts, "Think ya can keep your trap shut around him for dinner about this?"

"Think you can look him in the eye during dinner after this?" is your rebuttal, Joel looks a little embarrassed, a little bashful smile pulls on his mouth, his gaze flutters down, looking for something that's not on the floor, on the walls, anything to keep himself from meeting your eyes.

"Guess I'll figure it out." his hand finds your cheek, caresses the curve of your face, he sighs, a sound of longing. Joel pulls away from you, the distance already making his body ache, it's not lost on you, you kinda feel the same way.

But it's fine, it really is. You'll see him and Sarah later today, still, this is not over, whatever this is.

The man opens the door to your room, opening it so he can leave, "I'll see you later, then, doll." he says, but then he shoots you a glance of mock sternness to you, over his shoulder, "I'll still fuck the 'fine' outta you, ya hear?"

You laugh, shaking your head.

"Alright, old man."

And before he closes the door, you catch one last glance of him, for now.

You hope he does.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #dbf!joel #dbf!joel x reader #f!reader #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #no outbreak!joel miller

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plottwiststudios · 3 months

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Women of Xal II Kickstarter: Delayed?

Hey, have you heard of the overly ambitious visual novel titled "Women of Xal" for Steam and Itch.io? (PC/Mac/Linux) Because that plays into why we might need to shelf the series for a few years. Full breakdown under the cut. (No spoilers)

For those who have gotten the True Ending, you should be fully aware that the story is about to vastly expand outside of Xuna's castle. It's a narrative must where everything that happens, happens well outside the scope of the original game in so many ways. And let's talk about scope! Especially if you have no idea what's so staggering about the original Women of Xal visual novel:

600+ optional choices we painstakingly programmed

Branching paths that people are still asking for guides on

A dozen romance options

Poly and gay options that interact with one another

Voice acting from now VERY popular voice actors

A 15 hour story full of mystery, lore, and tense politics

110 track soundtrack

4 Endings

Animations

Thousands of art assets (Bless Cat)

Years of hard work and long nights

No AI Art

100% positive reviews as of this post

Recouped $6000+, or roughly a fraction of the cost of development. After 2+ years of being released

Note that very last bullet point. Doing things for the art and passion is amazing and all, but I can't be investing literal thousands of hours into creating a game for a subset of a subset of a subset of people. I have bigger projects I want to finally get to work on. Ones I really hoped Women of Xal I would help a bit with funding. But it's not. And because of certain facts about the game, it may never be able to do so. To no fault of any of the players.

When I made Women of Xal I, my time was more readily available and I was quite a bit younger. The cost of running a company and creating a game like WoX as the first product hadn't quite hit me. I was also silly enough to believe "if you make it, they will come" to a degree. That part makes me grin in a not fun way.

But these days I have a job that takes me away from creating, but does pay the bills and debts. Debts I don't want to get into again in order to create the sequel that will undoubtedly come with far higher costs due to the game's scope. I have a better understanding of the costs of hiring returning and appropriate talent necessary to create a game better than the last. (I don't personally believe in being satisfied with an intentional steep downgrade.)

Yes there is the Kickstarter option for Women of Xal II, but there are plenty of costs and time investment that makes it an unviable avenue to explore during this point in time. After all, who but the people who sat down and explored everything the first game had to offer would understand how we came up with a $50,000 Kickstarter price tag for a visual novel's sequel? Especially since too many will look at the first Kickstarter and believe we made the first game with only $14,000.

I have thought about giving Women of Xal I a modernized facelift with a smaller Kickstarter, complete with a ton of new features and fun ways to streamline and highlight the narration's strong points, but there's a LOT of baggage that comes with that, including not wanting to go backwards when I still want to create my "pipe dream" projects.

So I'm thinking we'll give it a bit more thought these next few days, and if we can't think of a solution that we haven't already tried, we'll officially announce the delay (and before you suggest your own ideas, know that there's a 99% chance we've already tried it).

A long, long post just to say I do sincerely apologize for having people wait longer, but I am literally still a few thousand dollars away from paying off all my debt that came from funding the first game. It's a micro-trauma I do not feel inclined to repeating again. When the franchise is in a better place, or I am emotionally/physically, I will return back to Women of Xal to finish the story. If I cannot, I will release a summary of events that transpire after the first game's true ending.

But for now, I'm going to focus on financial and emotional healing, and creating projects that I feel will be more appreciated by both myself and people who are turned off by what "Women of Xal" offers.

Thank you all for supporting our small company these past several years. <3

-John

#Women of Xal #Visual Novel #dating sim #indie game #gaming

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spotsandsocks · 9 months

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Fuck it Friday

Another throw back for Fuck it Friday tagged by the wonderfully lovely @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela cover art for this fic from the talented @ronordmann

Tagging the creative and marvellous talents of @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @honestlydarkprincess @loserdiaz @cowboy-buddie @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @elvensorceress @thewolvesof1998 @the-likesofus @like-the-rest-of-la @rogerzsteven @bekkachaos @jobairdxx @thekristen999 @stagefoureddiediaz @heartshapedvows @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck @alyxmastershipper @spaceprincessem @canonicallyobserving911 @wildlife4life @princessfbi @housewifebuck @shortsighted-owl @buddierights @megsvstheworld if there is any art fics or edits to share

Like Lovers Do

Chim shrugs an apology as he makes a quick exit from the table and the situation he just created with a casual comment. Buck consoles himself with the fact that at least he looks a little sorry this time, not like the last time he dropped Buck in it over this particular mistake.

The atmosphere around the table had taken a sharp left turn into awkward when Chimney had jokingly referenced Buck’s brief and unfortunate liaison with the blonde currently laughing with Hen on the other side of the room.

Buck silently curses as Eddie stares him down from the opposite side of the table.

Chim’s long gone, he abandoned the situation the second he realised Eddie hadn’t known about the kiss, so now Buck’s all alone with his best friend; usually he likes being alone with Eddie but this is definitely not his idea of a good time.

Eddie’s looking at him with his lips pursed and eyebrows raised. It’s obvious he has questions about this new piece of information. Buck squirms under the scrutiny. He’d rather be anywhere else right now.

In a cool voice the questioning starts; “You kissed Lucy? You never told me that.”

That’s true he hadn’t told him. Buck had kind of been hoping Eddie would never have to find out because he’s not proud of that particular moment.

It was a mistake, such a huge mistake, one he preferred not to think about. He’d never cheated before, had always hated the concept and he knows he never would again. Buck had spent weeks trying to work out why he’d let it happen, why he’d kissed back, then kissed again. Even now he hates thinking about it although at least now he understands the why a bit more than he had then.

Being back in therapy will do that. Over the last year, longer really things had gotten pretty mixed up and dark in his head. He’d hardly noticed the spiral downwards, it had been so slow and steady, it had just become normal for him to feel that way. He hadn’t noticed but Eddie had.

He’d laugh if it was funny; as Eddie had worked through his issues and found his balance Buck had lost his, but Eddie had seen him, noticed what was happening and been there to steady him when he tripped and stumbled.

When things got really bad, the cumulative effects of so many parts of his life, Eddie had gently suggested Buck start talking to a therapist again. Eddie’s apparently a big fan of therapy these days.

So he had and now he’s spent a fair number of hours talking about all the things that pull at his heart and twist his thoughts and some of those things definitely contributed to the moment that Eddie’s only just found out about.

His best friend knows a lot about him but he doesn't know everything, god no, not everything. The kiss is only one of the things he’s been keeping to himself.

Eddie’s still waiting for details and he doesn’t look very impressed with the delay. Unable to see an escape Buck plunges in with the truth.

“It, it was just a stupid thing I did.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, Buck knows what he’s doing and falls for it anyway, he fills the gap with more words, desperate to avoid the silence.

“I was just embarrassed to tell you, you know, because of all the stupid. It wasn’t like I was deliberately not, not telling you.”

It totally was.

“it just didn’t come up.”

Eddie frowns “Why’d you do it?”

That’s a big question and the answer is more complicated than he wants to get into with the man opposite him. He goes with half an answer, half the truth, the parts that can safely be shared.

Avoiding Eddie’s eyes he explains the best he can “I was unhappy with Taylor.”

He doesn’t add the rest - because I wasn’t in love with her, I was just clinging to an illusion. Taylor had been another mistake he made. He knows more about that choice as well now.

“and I was drunk”

Eddie pulls a face, eyebrows shooting up even higher.

“Neither one is an excuse” he adds quickly “I know that.”

“When?”

He fudges that with “a while ago,” and a quieter, “when you were at dispatch”.

That’s all he’s going to say because the rest of the answer he needs to keep to himself. Eddie can’t know about all of it. They can’t talk about that.

Weeks of therapy have let Buck see what else played a part in his monumentally stupid decision that evening and he can hardly tell Eddie what he’s worked out.

No - he can’t imagine a universe where he drops that particular bombshell on his friend. As if he could just sit down next to Eddie and casually say, ‘hey, did you know I kissed Lucy once and guess what… I’ve worked out that I did it because I was miserable with Taylor and without you. I did it because you told me to move on and didn’t show up that night, because you left me behind and I didn’t know what to do with that feeling.

And the real kicker; his biggest secret, the root of the problem, the thing that they don’t (can’t?) talk about, the thing that laid the first stone in the path to his poor choices.

Well, how is he supposed to explain that, can he say ‘oh yeah and one more thing; you got shot in front of me and it changed me. I had your blood on my face, on my lips and I can still taste it.

continue on AO3

#buddie #911 fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #911 on fox #911fic #911 fic

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makriiii · 1 year

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Caught (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: You rode up in the mountains after the rest of your gang- the O'Driscolls- planning to rob a train belonging to a Mr. Cornwall. Come to find out, the O'Driscolls weren't the only ones who were preying on this train.

Author's notes: This is my first time posting a fanfic, so any constructive criticism is appreciated! It's not entirely lore accurate, and I changed a few things here or there just to work better with the story.

Warnings: 18+, fluff+angst, slightly nsfw, mentions of blood and gore. Also, spelling mistakes.

Pt 2, this isn't a oneshot ;)

Wattpad or Ao3

♡

Caught.

Wind whistling through the swaying tree tops above you and muffled hoofbeats on the path beneath you interrupted the otherwise near perfect silence.

Your chilled breath formed small clouds in front of your face with every exhale you took, quickly whisked away with the blowing that cut against your face.

You were huddled closely to yourself. The cold was getting to you, and it had been ever since you'd been sent up to this god forsaken place.

It was your gang's first step to the robbery everyone had been rumoring about, a rich man's train, so you heard.

'Cornwall.' You recalled, thinking back on the plan Colm had proposed to the lot of you. One that didn't excite you simply due to the climate.

It was getting later and later, the ride taking significantly longer than you'd initially expected. Having left a few days after your comrades, it seemed you had missed out on a storm with all the fresh snow that rested on the ground.

As much as you hated their company, you did feel safer with the whole lot around. Less for you to worry about.

However, not long was it for you to spot the camp through the thick trees. Though it didn't light much excitement in you at the dark and dreary sight as much as you hoped it would.

Something was wrong. That much was made clear when you heard no commotion, no sign of life. In fact, it was quite the opposite when you came upon large lumps in the snow.

Frozen bodies and blood were spread all about the path. They weren't fresh, at least not by much. Still, you brandished your revolver, scanning the small and torn down mining site.

There were too many to count, all dead. Some of them you recognized, others were face down or too deformed to identify.

"Christ..." You drawled in a long sigh, sliding off your seat and losing the warmth you had from your horse's sides. A quick shiver ran up your spine while you rubbed your arms for warmth.

The whole place was a ruin, and although it seemed unlikely, you searched the place cautiously. Making sure the ones who did this weren't still here awaiting any more poor suckers such as yourself.

Having found the place completely ghosted again, you, yourself, were grateful for having missed your own possible execution by a few days. But you still soured at the fact nothing was left for you.

Everything had been ransacked and stolen. An involuntary groan escaped your lips as the delayed realization finally caught up to you.

You'd be here, entirely alone, in an area you had almost no knowledge of prior to your arrival and with people no better than you somewhere out there.

The thought less than comforting in every sense of the meaning.

A low growl hums from your stomach. Consequently, making your eyes blink open slowly.

Your whole body ached from the cramped position you kept in all night to stay warm, the fire you had stoked now a small, cold heap of ash.

Early, no doubt. The sun had barely risen from behind the tree tops and boy, were you glad to see it, knowing it wouldn't be so cold, easier for you to work.

A few minutes had passed, and you tried thinking on what to do, but your mind remained blank as the aspect of removing yourself from your bedroll seemed just as bad as starving.

Still though, hunger bit at you until you relented and begrudgingly got up. Grabbing your shotgun from your side, you peered out at the forest you had rode in from.

There was to be something; deer, rabbit, anything really as long as it was just you you were feeding.

The wind from the night before had let up, and thank the lords for that. Anymore of it, and you feared you'd end up no better than the rest of the unfortunate men at your feet.

That thought sparked a whole chain of questions in your head again.

Who else was up here with you? Who knew your gang was here, and where are they now? All questions you'd likely never have the answer to and hoped you wouldn't get.

As much as you tried focusing on hunting, the thoughts ate at you, and so did your paranoia. You head whipping around to any snap or snow slipping off the needled branches around you.

You weren't alone up here, and that had to be considered if your life was something you planned to keep for longer.

You thought of the train. Were you still to attempt that? One woman against who the hell knows how many men, with enough bullets that would have you descending far below any hell that might exist.

You were ill equipped, if you put it lightly, and all your men were dead. No use of them dead.

Countless scenarios ran through your tired mind as you trudged through the resistant snow, knee deep and reflective in the morning light. Someone would've definitely thought you a zombie had you been in any town like this. Drab and completely on auto pilot.

Just then, a small flash of fur out of the corner of your eye yanked you from your thoughts, causing you to jerk to a halt and cock your head over.

That there was your meal. Possibly the only one for today, so you remained motionless.

The rabbit bounced through the fresh powder at its feet, clearly not having noticed you yet.

You dug your boots into the ground, slowly raising your gun and aiming, mumbling a small sorry to the poor varmint who was unknowingly about to become someone's meal.

A pop followed in response to your pulled trigger, the echo sounding from all sides of the surrounding canyon, which made you wince at the thought that someone other than you might've heard it.

The rabbit now laid in the snow, giving you permission to collect it, dragging your feet through the powder to grab your meal.

You turned back the way you came, and made for your little run down shed. If that was even the right word for it.

The fire crackled once more in your arrival as you finished your food. Saving the rest of it for your travels.

You couldn't stay here much longer, and with that in mind, you had to come up with what you were to do. Rob a train solo, or go back empty-handed?

The second option was safer, of course, but where was the thrill in that? Thrill was what kept you in this business after all.

There was nothing you did that didn't already risk your life, even just traversing down this mountain could have you saying your last prayers. So if you were to die, why not do something you hadn't done before? Stupid as this decision was.

With a full belly, you decided to look through camp more thoroughly; for anything that'd leave with a more detailed understanding of the train robbery you were to commit, as Colm handed you his barest of explanations.

Yet, the more you searched, the harder anything was to find. Whoever pillaged, did it well. The dynamite, the plans, everything was now in their hands, which meant train attendants were likely not the only thing you'd have to worry about today.

You cleaned up all your belongings, stomping out the fire and packing your horse.

The trail back was just to the left of you, but you pushed on away from it before you could change your mind.

The scenery became sparse with snow, much to your relief, as you made further down the mountain. The railroad sat below you just a couple hundred yards.

You had your eyes peeled for anyone who had clearly made a great effort to join you.

Once you felt you made it close enough, you stopped in a shaded forest area, hiding your horse away in the cover of trees.

There was a ledge and a small tunnel which had hefty rocks near it - a perfect hiding spot with a vantage.

You fiddled with a blade of grass, unfolding, refolding, and tearing at it while you waited for the train, though arguably more so your unnamed and unseen enemies.

It was nearly past mid-day, but before any doubt that the train had already ran by, voices barely caught your ear.

Your eyes flicked to where it sounded from - men and their horses. A frown worthy sight, but not an unexpected one.

You slid further behind the cover of your rocks, making sure you couldn't be seen by them.

The blade of grass in your hands got replaced by a small pair of binoculars to get a clearer look at the group.

There were no shortage of them that stood on the ledge overlooking the track. No doubt the ones who ravaged your entire gang's camp. If you weren't careful, you'd be added to the body count.

You counted six from afar before you spotted a seventh one willy-nillying around in the small clearing by the tracks.

Another man in a navy coat rode down the steep hill to meet the one in the clearing, helping him draw out the dynamite.

As you studied the ones on the ledge. One face seemed familiar in a way to you. It wasn't long till you recalled some gang Colm had qualms with. Some Van der Linde if you were correct.

You weren't quite sure how this would work out for you. The train attendants seemed easy to work around with enough caution.

But your cocksure thoughts from earlier started dimming. A whole other gang of pure no-good criminals who would probably know exactly what you are with a quick glance suddenly made you a lot more nervous.

What was worse, was the long standing hatred each gang held for another.

You felt at this point, your more rational side near convinced you out of it. Being alone and all, you'd have to relent.

Defeat had grasped you completely, but you didn't want to leave, not yet at least. Curiosity kept you seated. You wanted to see how this would pan out for them.

The loud motion of a train moving along on the tracks drew your attention, as well as the gangs.

All the men on the ledge now covered their faces, and the ones in the clearing scurried off out of sight.

Your thoughts cleared when the train sped around the corner, approaching the spot the dynamite had been planted. You covered your ears, the train getting closer and closer.

You furrowed your brows when nothing went off. Why were they waiting so long?

It only took a second before you realized it was faulty. You perked up with this prospect.

Three of the gang members shared your reaction when they quickly dismounted and ran to the opposite side of the tunnel.

You didn't care to pay attention much longer as you got up without hesitation, making for your horse with speed.

Spurring hard, you caught up to the train that hadn't yet passed you too far.

With a quick glance, you made sure you had no one behind you. Though it seemed their access to the tracks was not as clear cut as yours.

When you finally turned to look back at the train, your mouth flew open.

One guy dangled off the side as crossed a bridge, the other helping him up.

If you were crazy for this, they'd be psychotic. You certainly didn't think them to be ballsy enough to jump on top.

They didn't notice you, thankfully, and with that you cleared your head and focused.

If they were shooting, you could be stealing. Stealing what was yours in the first place. After all, they wouldn't notice your shooting amongst all the others.

You rode right up to the last train car before you finally heard gunshots. Instinctively ducking closer to your horse as you weren't sure if it was you getting shot at.

Reluctantly you looked up, and saw no one. With that, you couldn't waste anymore time.

An involuntary leap of nothing but faith landed you on the back ladder of the final train coach.

You watched as your horse slowed behind you and all you could do was hope she didn't get in the way of the other members who followed.

Gunshots continued the ring out in the cabins ahead of you, making their way up to the engine.

The door next to you was the only thing keeping you from this score, sending a bullet through the lock that kept it hitched shut.

The metal flung open with its release, which made the sounds of men more apparent to you.

You weren't quick to peer around, readying yourself for the rain of bullets you were likely to receive.

Forcing your arm in the way of fire, you shot indiscriminately inside the cabin, hoping your bullets would find them.

Now you gained enough confidence to peep back over, you saw only one slumped. The rest each held a great look of fear and fury.

You hissed at the time this was costing you as you reloaded. A few gunshots shot through the metal side of you, which motivated you to work faster.

Sliding out from behind the door swiftly, you popped each one with precision. Simply no room for no precision, lest it was your life you intended on losing.

The worry of being shot died with the men as you walked into the train cabin.

It was something to be marveled at for sure. Warm gas lights pulled you in, illuminating the wooden decals and Scarlett seats.

Your boots met with a cobalt rug now stained with the same color of the furniture, your doing, really.

Ruffling around in all of the cabinets and dressers that sat to the sides of the inside, you found two lock boxes, which didn't take much time to break into. That or it was another bullet breaking through it for you.

You listened for each and every gunshot, hoping they wouldn't end soon, that thought being filled with pure irony.

The inside of the lock boxes held train bonds and a great deal of cash, too much for you to count through now as you stashed it and made it to the door that flung around in the wind.

The train was going too fast for you to jump off, or at least want to jump off, but staying on wouldn't do you much good either, that much quickly prominent when you heard the final shouts of some men and the screeches of the wheels as you jerked forward with the halting train.

"Shit." You scowled.

Blowing a whistle desperately for your horse, you leaped off the now stationary train, maneuvering through the rough mounds and rocks that littered the surrounding terrain.

You crouched down with trepidation when you heard yet another round of shouting and gunshots.

As soon as you ducked behind a boulder, you checked if it was directed at you. And it seemed not yet.

You needed to get out of here before they realized that you weaseled around, or you'd be on the same horizontal plain as the train attendants.

Whistling again, you prayed your mare would find you without catching much attention. And attention was exactly what she caught.

The largest of the men, the same who had been in the clearing, pointed directly at you. Barking out loud commands at the others whilst your mare innocently trotted straight up to you.

Now you got real nervous. Your blood ran thin as you sprang onto her back, shaking so much the reins threatened to leave your grasp.

You fled deeper into the forest, the gunshots having now stopped but not the frantic hollering nor the sound of many hooves in your direction.

Losing them in the dark, snowy alps was your only plan, and by no means full proof since the beginning of your day lacked a great deal of proper planning.

#rdr #rdr2 arthur #dutch van der linde #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #rdr2 #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #enemies to lovers #red dead fanfic #lemon fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction

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askcometcare · 9 months

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im a bit lost---i dont understand why ally and howie are embarrassed/why there's an issue...?

OOC: (adding links to specific scenes for convenience!) i understand if you weren't here for the beginning of the arc/don't remember what happened you're probably pretty confused about what's happening here, so here's all the context.

at the beginning of the arc, before howie arrived, ally got a Dad Talk from barry where he tried to express support of the possibility that ally intended on being intimate with howie. ally got pretty upset with him for jumping to that assumption and denied it because it was true, they really were just going to go look for UFOs (and make out, but that's irrelevant. kind of).

the reason things are so embarrassing and awkward is because ally walked in the door assuming her dad would make a weird comment about the fact she now was saying howie would be sleeping over that night (which...well can you blame her? it's questionable considering their age!) and the fact howie and ally have never had a conversation about "being intimate" before (as she says here, they haven't ever done anything like that together).

ally is desperate and upset and panicking because she doesn't know how to confront the situation of that subject finally being brought up after knowing howie since kindergarten, especially considering it was her fault it happened. that's why she turned to bwitter in panic trying to ask for people's help.

and now she's just relieved that sly showed up in that moment and hopefully the conversation will be delayed a little while longer

it's pretty common experience for growing up! despite the other stuff going on in the AU related to the hospital (the horrors) i am kinda trying to represent different aspects of growing up like that. this is only the 2nd arc but there's going to be lots of things like this, moral wise, family relationship and bond wise, etc.

i hope this explains everything!

#ooc

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heartofspells · 6 months

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Sunday Snippet

Thank you for the tag, my darling @tracingpatternswrites!

From the Prongsfoot Epic (not an epic).

"Lily wants to have dinner!"

"Shit," swears Sirius as his foot slides across the tiles of his bathroom. He glares at James who's just barged through his door, Sirius with one leg outside his bath and one still in. "What the fuck, Potter?"

"Don't worry about your modesty. It's nothing I've not seen before."

Hazel eyes slide over Sirius' bare and dripping form, Sirius gritting his teeth together to keep from snarling at his friend. He finishes pulling himself out of his recently completed shower, reaching for the waiting towel, slinging it loosely around his hips as James continues as though nothing's happened.

"Friday night, she wants to have dinner," informs James, watching Sirius' hands move as he tucks the towel into place. "All of us. You and Moony included."

"And you couldn't have told me this later? Through a bloody owl? Or just – I don't know – fucking waited half an hour instead of breaking into my flat and nearly killing me in my shower?" snaps Sirius. "How the fuck did you get in here?"

"Nearly killed you," scoffs James, rolling his eyes behind his glasses as he leans against the wall, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. "How? By giving you a heart attack because I saw your prick? When did you turn into such a prudish old gnome? And I've known all your special locking charms for years. Easily bypassed with that much history."

"I hate you," mutters Sirius sourly, carefully wiping his wet feet over the mat before moving across the room. He drags his hand over the fogged mirror, clearing a stripe so he can see himself.

"You don't. I'm the love of your life," says James with so much assurance and so much ease that Sirius barely stops himself from biting through his tongue.

"Doesn't mean I can't still hate you," mumbles Sirius. James sticks his tongue out at him in the reflection of the mirror and Sirius kicks his leg backwards, landing a solid blow to his friend's shin. James curses loudly as Sirius runs his fingers through his wet hair, ridding it of knots.

"Will you stop primping, you great bit blouse?" grouses James, bending to rub at his abused leg. "You're gorgeous, move on. C'mon, I'm bored. Let's go do something. Hang on." James pauses suddenly, eyes dragging down Sirius' back as though he's only now really seeing him and what he's doing. "What are you showering for? You always do that in the morning. You're like…neurotic about it, always have been. Has someone been here?"

Sirius doesn't react, though there's a brief uptick in his breathing. Benjy had, in fact, only just left, the second time Sirius has seen him in as many days, trying his best to not only make up for all the drops he's given the other recently but also hoping to delay that conversation Benjy had been building to the night before a little longer. But James doesn't need to know that.

"No," he lets slip easily, expression not changing as he grabs his wand to quickly dry his dripping hair. "Why? Jealous, Prongs?"

"Wouldn't you like that?" tosses back James with a pinch to his thick eyebrows.

That's a topic Sirius doesn't wish to go down and pointedly sidesteps with grace.

"It's late. What the hell are you expecting we're going to do?"

James scoffs again. "Listen at you," he says scornfully. "When did you become an old man? It's only half ten."

"And some of us work for a living, which entails early mornings. We don't all have the luxury of lounging about all day doing fuck all."

"Whose fault is that?"

Sirius groans, bowing his head.

"Fine," he relents, turning to face his friend, who beams at him, hazel eyes lighting up like a forest fire set ablaze. "One drink at the pub. Fucking one, James, and then I'm coming back here and going to bed, at which point you will go home."

Slinging an arm around Sirius' shoulders, James having to stretch a bit to reach, he slaps his hand over bare skin, the smacking sound nearly obscene in the echo of the bathroom around them.

"We'll see about that," he says with a large amount of disbelief. "Put on your good trousers."

No pressure tagging: @beautitudes @pinklume @in-flvx

#sunday snippet #prongsfoot #prongsfoot epic #(not an epic)#i'm working on a title i swear i am #now i have to go to work #someone make some sort of sacrifice to save my soul please #sundays are the worst #snippet #my writing #holli writes

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