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runnning-outof-time · 10 months

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Beach Day | Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - but encouraged by @holacia3 with this ask

Pairing: Modern!Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N) manages to pull Tommy out of the office so that they can go on a trip. Once at their destination, they waste no time and have a much needed beach day. Or: Tommy forgets everything the second he sees (Y/N) wearing his shirt.

Warnings: language, some suggestive sentences

Word Count: 3332

A/N: this one’s probably going to flop, but I’m happy that I managed to finish it amidst the bout of writer’s block I’ve been experiencing. It was the other option on the poll I ran a few weeks ago. I haven’t got to take a trip to the beach this summer, so I decided to write about it instead. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: this will be the last story posted in July … I’m going on a trip with my family next week and most likely won’t have any major time to write the other requests. I’m hoping that maybe I’ll be able to write and share some of the blurbs that I’ve got in my asks, but big stories have been halted until August.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories like this one!

"...and you can't argue with me because I've already packed your bags," (Y/N) ended her pitch in an assured tone, setting her confident gaze on her fiancé, who was sitting across from her...at his desk, of course.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but the door to the office opening stopped him. Both he and (Y/N) looked over to it to find Polly entering the room. "I'm going to need you to hand over your diary," she said, walking right over to the desk, extending her hand towards her nephew when she stopped in front of it.

"I'm guessing you got her in on this?" Tommy asked (Y/N), his eyebrows raised as he looked between both women.

"I did," (Y/N) nodded in an assured manner, a tight-lipped grin present on her face, "and you're not getting out of it."

"Everything's been handled. Go take a break, Thomas," Polly added, moving her fingers then to remind him that she was going to need his diary.

"So it's been settled then, eh?" he looked at (Y/N) again.

"It has been," she answered him, a victorious smile present on her face, "give her the diary, Tommy."

"If I must," he sighed dramatically as he picked it up from his desk and handed it over to his aunt, making a big deal over it. Inside he was glad that (Y/N) had planned this out...he'd been working tirelessly on the business' latest expansion and hardly had a moment to breathe, but yet he wasn't going to stop and take one for himself. (Y/N) realized that and took it upon herself to plan the forced holiday.

"You must," (Y/N) stayed stern on her point, although the smile she was wearing was full on her face now. Tommy took one more look at his fiancée and couldn't stop the smile from forming on his face. There was not a doubt in his mind that he was ready to relax with her.

——

By that time the next day, Tommy and (Y/N) found themselves checked into a private resort that sat right off of a beautiful beach.

After unpacking their luggage, Tommy made his way out to the living area of the suite they were staying in with the intention of checking in on how things were back at home. He was thankful that this resort had high-speed internet, because he couldn't stand to be disconnected for too long. The flight to the resort was already pushing the limits...nothing would connect in that damned airport.

It seemed as though (Y/N) had other ideas of what they should be doing next. She exited the bedroom the second he'd gotten comfortable on one of the couches. Taking one look at Tommy made her audibly sigh and drop her hand to hit against her thigh, the sound of it making him look up from the screen.

He immediately noted that she had changed. Her comfortable airport attire had been switched for a swimsuit and a loose, practically see through dress that she was using as a cover-up. A pair of sunglasses rested atop her head and flip-flops covered her feet. How she managed to get changed so fast completely perplexed him.

"You're back to thinking of work already?" she commented, a bit of an exasperated look filling her features.

"You know how I like to check on things," he stated, defending himself as he shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"I do know, but we're on holiday, Tommy," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but we just got here."

"Yeah...and I'm already ready to go down to the beach."

"I noticed that."

"Tommy..." (Y/N) sighed, a frown forming on her lips. She held her gaze on him for a moment, watching and waiting for him to say something, before continuing to speak when silence persisted. "I'm going to throw your bloody phone in the ocean if this is how this week's going to play out," she threatened him, her voice holding a more serious tone than it had before.

"Just let me do it now," he bargained with her, "I didn't know we were going to get into things so soon."

(Y/N) pursed her lips as she thought about his suggestion. She finally responded after letting silence hang in the air for a few moments, "fine. You can do it now, but please don't let it become a habit, ok? This was meant to take you away from work," she laid out her stipulations.

"Fair enough. I'll curb it for the rest of the week," he agreed to her counter-offer, nodding his head to seal the deal.

"Good," she nodded in response to his statement. A few beats of silence passed before she spoke again, "I'm going to go down to the pool and wait for you, ok?" she told him her plan.

"Ok," he agreed, watching her as she walked over to where he was sitting. "Look beautiful, baby," he couldn't resist giving her a compliment, his eyes running over her body.

"Thanks, Tommy," she smiled at him, her stomach filling with butterflies as she leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. "Don't be up here too long, hmm?" she mumbled against his lips after pulling away.

"I won't," he promised her, feeling her smile against his lips before they shared one more kiss. (Y/N) stood upright again, smiling and nodding at him once more before she moved back over the island that broke up the kitchen and living space.

"You know where to find me," she told him while making sure that her tote bag was filled with the essentials: beach towel, sun tan lotion, hotel room key, and, of course, her latest book. She looked over to him, watching as he nodded one last time, before she made her way to the door of the suite.

There weren't many people sitting by the pool, so (Y/N) was able to find an open lounge pretty quickly. She set her bag down next to the chair and then relaxed back against it. The ocean's waves could be heard from where she was, and the calming sound of them made her shut her eyes and take a deep breath. It was good to finally be able to take some time and actually relax.

As a senior member of the Shelby Company Ltd.'s marketing team, she was working just as much as Tommy was. Always coming up with new ways of advertising; always keeping up with the different avenues Tommy was taking the company down. It was tedious and time consuming, sure, but she wouldn't have it any other way...the job was how she met her fiancé, three years ago.

With both of their busy schedules, neither really had the time to take a moment and relax...until (Y/N) made a point to now. She was thankful for this trip, and she was sure that Tommy was, too.

Some time passed as she sat, relaxing on the pool lounge. She wasn't sure how long she'd been out there; she wasn't really keeping time as she switched between laying with her eyes closed and watching the other people meander about the pool area.

Luckily she was doing some people watching when Tommy came walking down the stairs and into the pool area of the resort. She spotted him as he was descending the steps, and immediately noticed that he'd changed into his beachwear. The white t-shirt and jeans he'd worn while traveling was now swapped for a pair of gray board shorts and a baby blue linen button down shirt. She couldn't help but stare at him as he walked across the area to get to where she was lounging.

"Ready to go down to the water?" he asked as he stopped in front of her lounge.

"I see you're finally finished with your work," (Y/N) commented, pulling her sunglasses down slightly to peer up at him.

He chuckled at her statement, shaking his head slightly as he looked out to the ocean, "yeah, and it's finished for the rest of the trip."

"If you say so," she brushed off the topic as she sat up on the lounge, collecting her bag and making sure that she had everything she'd come down with. "Let's go down to the beach," she said with a smile as she stood next to him. Tommy nodded his head before allowing her to lead the way to the gate that separated the pool area from the private beach that the resort offered.

The beach was beautiful. The sand was soft, and the breeze coming off of the waves made the hot rays of the sun not burn so bad. One of the perks of the resort having a private beach was the fact that there weren't many people inhabiting it.

(Y/N) and Tommy quickly found a spot to set their things down. (Y/N) made sure that the beach blanket Tommy had brought with him (because she'd forgotten it in the room) was laid out underneath one of the umbrellas the resort had set up. She set the bag down on it before kicking off her flip-flops and lifting the cover-up from her body.

"Let's go down to the water," she excitedly said, flashing a look in Tommy's direction before she took off towards the waves.

"You're not even gonna wait for me," he responded, moreso to himself than anyone, a smile forming on his face as he shook his head. He could easily tell how much she was already enjoying this holiday, and he was so thankful that she'd planned it for them. It took him a few moments to undo his button down and set it into the bag before he too kicked off his flip-flops and began walking down to the water.

He approached (Y/N), who was standing facing the waves, and wasted no time wrapping his arms around her midsection. His actions made her shriek at first, but she sunk into his embrace in seconds. "Isn't it beautiful?" she asked him, swaying slightly along with him.

"It is," he mused, resting the side of his head against hers as they looked out at the waves. "The water's not too cold either."

"It's not," she agreed, her hands coming up to sit on his forearms, "let's go in," she said then, tapping his arms to let him know she wanted to be released. He obliged, and she took his hand to lead him out deeper in the water.

They made their way out to where the water reached their waists, stopping there even though Tommy thought that they could go out a little bit further. (Y/N) protested his suggestion, telling him that 'things might eat us if we go any further'. Tommy listened to his fianceé's statement and stayed where they were. They spent a good amount of time in the water, switching from swimming around, to floating with the waves, to (Y/N)'s personal favorite: hanging onto Tommy like he was a tree and she was a koala.

At least an hour of them spending time in the water had to have passed before Tommy finally decided to start heading towards the shore. His movement, of course, didn't go unnoticed. "You're leaving me?" (Y/N) questioned after she saw him take a few steps backwards. She was enjoying herself in the water and had had no plans of leaving it any time soon.

"I think I'm ready to get out of the water," he answered with the obvious.

"We've not been in here long though," she pouted.

"I need to go sit for a minute, love. I'll be just up there," he told her, motioning to where their things were. (Y/N)'s pout didn't subside, but she nodded and allowed him to leave the waves.

She watched him walk up the beach and sit down on the blanket they'd laid out. Her eyes lingered for a few moments before she went back to floating on the waves.

It wasn't long before (Y/N) was exiting the water and walking up to where Tommy had made himself comfortable. It just wasn't the same wading in the waves alone. She wanted to spend as much time with Tommy as she possibly could. A sight - that she honestly wished she'd be surprised to see - was waiting for her at the blanket though.

"I thought you said you'd ditch the work while we're here?" she commented as she stopped in front of Tommy, who had his face buried in his smartphone as he tapped away at the screen.

Her voice made him quickly look up, a surprised expression forming on his face as he noticed she was right in front of him. "I was just checking a few things," he told her, holding his hands up in surrender, his now locked phone present in one of them.

"Mm-hmm," (Y/N) shook her head as she moved over to where the bag was sitting so that she could grab a towel and dry off, "you do know the ocean's right there, right? I could honestly take that phone and give it a good chuck," she stated, making sure her body was dry.

"You wouldn't," Tommy responded, a slight tone present in his voice, showing that he was testing the waters.

"I just might," she quipped back, a grin on her face as she dropped the towel back into the bag.

Before she could move to sit next to him, light blue fabric caught her eye. She instantly recognized it as the linen button down Tommy was previously wearing. She picked it up without a second thought, draping it over her shoulders and slipping her arms through the holes. It covered her swimsuit clad body immediately and she was grateful for the soft, cool fabric on her otherwise warm skin. She'd just finished rolling the sleeves up to her elbows when she finally felt Tommy's eyes on her.

Tommy had been watching her from the second she came back to the blanket. His phone was quickly forgotten as he watched her dry off and then grab the shirt from the bag. Sure, she had her own cover-up, but he was so damn happy that she'd chosen to slip his shirt on over her body. Something about her wearing his clothes just got him going. Just when he thought she couldn't get any more beautiful, she went ahead and did something like this. He couldn't help but let his eyes travel up and down her frame.

(Y/N)'s eyes finally found his when he found her face once more, and she couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in her stomach as she noticed the look he was giving her. She wanted to make a comment, but it died in her throat as she just about melted under his stare.

"C'mere," Tommy finally spoke, nodding his head to the side as a non-verbal addition to his statement. She grinned at him and happily followed his direction, moving over to where he was sitting.

He brought his knees up and opened his legs slightly, offering her the perfect spot to sit down in; one that she quickly fell into. She easily got comfortable sitting between his legs; her back rested against his chest. Tommy wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her, pulling her even closer to his body as he leant over and began pressing kisses to the side of her neck.

"Tommy, stop!" she exclaimed through her giggles, finally trying to squirm away from his lips as his actions quickly became ticklish. He listened to her and stopped his kisses, but he didn't dare loosen up the grip that he had on her.

It was easy for his hands to find their way onto her body, being that she'd left the shirt open, and he couldn't help but let them roam her figure. He took his time, feeling every curve as he nestled his face into her neck; breathing in the sweet smell of her skin mixed with the sunshine that had been kissing it since they exited the hotel room. (Y/N) had practically melted into his body, absolutely loving the feeling of his hands as they traced her skin.

She waited until his hands found their resting spot on the sides of her waist, his arms crossed over her stomach, to finally speak again: "I see that I've got your mind off of work now," she said with a grin, turning her head so that she could see his face out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh you most certainly have," he answered, a grin laced into his words, "look so fuckin' beautiful in my things...always, baby," he mumbled against the skin of her cheek before he kissed it.

The butterflies returned as she heard what he had to say, and she couldn't stop herself from turning in his arms even more so that she could press her lips to his in a much needed kiss. "Love you, Tommy," she mumbled against them, smiling as he kissed her again, this kiss holding more emotion than the last. "I can't wait for the rest of this week with you," she said once they'd finally pulled away from each other. She was now sitting with her body turned more towards him, so she was able to look at him head on. She couldn't stop her cheeks from heating up as she caught the look of total adoration in his eyes.

"If this is a preview of what's to come..." he trailed off, a grin forming on his face as his eyes danced over her figure once more, "I already know that this trip is going to be one that's hard to top."

His cheeky comment that was accompanied by a rather suggestive glance, made (Y/N) gasp, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes and shake her head as she tried to distract herself from how his words actually made her feel. Why did there have to be other people present on this beach?! She had to look towards the ocean for a few moments to re-center herself from the look that was making her wonder what they could get away with out here.

A few moments had passed before she felt the sharp snap of her swimsuit's strap against her skin. "Tommy!" she shrieked at the sensation, her eyes snapping back onto him to see that a smug grin was now present on his face. He tried, and failed, to feign innocence before his expression dissolved into a grin and chuckles. "I can't believe you," she shook her head, gently pressing on his shoulders for him to get the hint to lay back on the blanket.

She wasted no time in pressing her lips to his when he did lay down, and he made a mental note to do things such as that more often if this was going to be how she responded to it.

After sharing a flurry of kisses, (Y/N) rested her head against his chest, not caring about the shine of sweat that was present due to the heat of the sun that was engulfing them. She was thankful for the shade that their umbrella was providing.

Tommy wrapped his arms around the small of her back underneath the shirt of his that she was still wearing, effectively holding her close to him...like she was going to be moving any time soon. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the serenity that was surrounding them; not thinking about anything but the beautiful woman laying with him.

Like he'd said before: if this was a preview of how the week was going to go, this was most definitely going to be a tough trip to top.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

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digitaldiarystuff · 3 months

Text

Disappointed

hi guyss (shy emoji) hope you missed me because i missed you! it looks like ruben is going for the win so enjoy 💖

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pairing: Ruben Dias x Y/N

summary: Ruben recently ended things with you claiming he’s not ready for a relationship and as much as it hurt, you accepted but everything changed after a photo of him was leaked at the airport

genre: angst

————

‘Love Island star Arabella Chi and Man. City’s Dias appear to confirm romance’ you read The Sun’s story with a blank expression. But unfortunately your emotionless wasn’t because you didn’t care about the news, it was because of the shock you were feeling.

“Oh fuck no. He’s got to be joking!” you heard Julie, your work bestie say after she saw the title. She rolled her chair next to yours and examined your face to see a reaction but you were still glued to the screen with no visible emotion.

“Y/N, babe, are you okay?” she asked concerned.

Your head was pounding to the point you had to place your hands on the sides of your head to try to make it go away but nothing worked.

“I- I need a cigarette.” you mumbled, more to yourself reaching for your bag. You were trying your hardest to quit but in a situation like this, you couldn’t care less.

Julie warily watched your state wondering if she should come with or let you be and decided to stay at the desk giving you space. You stepped on the balcony of your workplace to calm yourself.

The news about Ruben and a reality star going on a romantic getaway was too much for you. You reached into your bag to find your pack with slightly shaky hands and lit the cigarette between your lips. Ruben hated that you smoked, he always tried to convince you to replace your bad habit with a good one but no amount of smoking would hurt you as much as seeing him go public with someone else a week later you broke off contact.

As wrecked as you were, you had to go back into the office eventually. You couldn’t just leave or stay on the balcony for hours without your supervisor noticing and you certainly didn’t feel like getting scolded at today. You begrudgingly went back in and quickly ran to the bathroom, the only upside of all of this mess was that you weren’t crying. Your body froze to the point that your tears wouldn’t fall.

When you returned to the desk, you saw Julie already closed the tab which you were thankful for. Everyone around you gave you worried looks but you couldn’t even notice. Surprisingly, you buried yourself into work for the rest of the day and didn’t leave your desk once, it was now time to clock out.

“Let’s get something to eat, you haven’t eaten all day.” Julie suggested.

“I appreciate your concern but I think I’m just going to go home now Jules.” you said but she was giving you the sad puppy eyes. “I’m okay, you don’t have to worry.”

“But”

“But nothing, have a great night.” you smiled and went to your way. As soon as you stepped foot into your home you were greeted by your puppy, Yoda. You kneeled down to pet her and just then the waterworks began running. You started sobbing and barely made it to the couch to gain some balance, feeling at home made you miss him so much more. Just weeks ago you were sitting on the same couch with Ruben just enjoying a date night and now here you were not even being able to get time off work to drown in your sorrow while he was at Paris with another woman. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach and ran to the bathroom.

After some time, you grabbed a cup of water and sat with Yoda with dried tear stains on your face. Everything in you told you not to, but you couldn’t help yourself and started reading the news and tiktoks made about the leaked pictures. The gossip pages claimed Ruben reached out to her through instagram and they started dating, no one knew for how long they’ve been together but you knew it had to start before you broke up, if you can call it that.

You were adamant from the start, you didn’t do friends with benefits or fuckbuddies. If you were going to be with someone, you would want stability. It didn’t have to be labeled but it had to be exclusive, so naturally, when you met Ruben you were hesitant. You heard about the footballer’s lifestyle but it had been him who tried pursuing you, sent you flowers everyday, shown up at the places you were at and tried to make you give him a shot and you did. You stupidly fell for it.

Everything was going great, you were falling more and more everyday and he appeared the same so you tried talking about your feelings, the first time he shut down completely. You figured this must be hard for him and backed off. The second time, you started arguing because he wasn’t giving you the answers you needed and dodged them but the last time both of you snapped. It was vicious, you were shouting at each other. He claimed you were smothering him and being controlling and you accused him of using you and being dismissive. The night ended with you slamming the door and exiting his house, leaving the key he gave you for emergencies on the console.

And a week after that, he was seen with someone and didn’t feel like he was hiding at all while he’d keep you behind closed doors throughout the months you’ve spent together.

A week had passed since that day and you were doing better. You still felt the emptiness and sudden rushes of emotion but you composed yourself and still went to work. You also stopped checking socials for any news because you couldn’t read one more thing about their romance but today was a hard day to escape Ruben. It was Man City match day so everyone was wearing their blue shirts and scarfs while you tried to get past people to run errands. You also saw his face on a giant ad on the side of a building but quickly moved past.

While out, you also got 2 bottles of red wine because you wanted to drink a little to feel better but a little quickly turned more and more. Currently you were sitting on your fluffly beige rug leaning your back against your couch. You shook the first bottle in your hand trying to see if there’s any wine in it, there wasn’t. Groaning, you picked up the remote and opened the tv and the first thing you saw was that City had won. You cursed Ruben for getting everything right, but not you.

Before your mind can comprehend what you’re doing, you opened your texting app and sent him a message. Your eyes were watery and vision blurry but you didn’t care, you were beyond angry. Soon you were dozing off slowly with your head on the sofa cushions but were woken with the voice of keys coming from your front door. You froze for a second looking for a sharp object to protect yourself from a possible break in and picked up the empty wine bottle and stood up. Your heart was beating so fast as you approached the door, fully expecting a burglar in front of you but instead, it was Ruben standing there with your keys in his hands.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa” he said flinching.

“Ruben?” you said incredibly confused and slightly relieved. “What are you doing here?”

“I- um, you sent me a text and it was really weird I just wanted to check up on you.” he said.

“And you had to do it with my keys, couldn’t you just knock?” you angrily asked. You were convinced someone was here to hurt you.

“I’m sorry, I just, didn’t know if you’d open the door if you knew it was me.” you sighed loudly thinking it’s probably right.

“I’m sorry are you still planning to hit me?” he asked.

“Why?” you asked confused.

“You still have the bottle ready to be smashed on my head.” he pointed at it and you only now realized you never lowered your hand, still holding it up.

“Oh” you just said and placed the bottle on the counter.

You both stood there for a while not saying anything.

“So, how are you?”

You looked up at him, trying to decide whether to fight or not. Maybe it was the wine in you but you just didn’t have the energy to argue, you were hurt beyond repair but fighting meant getting into it and you couldn’t.

“I’m alright.” you said after a while. “How about you?”

“I’m also alright, thank you.”

“Look Ruben-

“Y/N I think we-

You both spoke at the same time.

“You go.” he politely said.

“Ruben thank you for checking on me but I was very drunk I mean I don’t even know what I wrote. Don’t worry I’m okay.” you said calmly. You couldn’t understand how you’re this calm but maybe this was your acceptance phase.

“I mean, to be honest, I also don’t know what you wrote.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

He pulled out his phone and started reading the text out loud.

“Rubem I habe everythong I wish I was necer yor wagfln. I think it’s Ruben I hate everything I wish I was never your waffle but don’t ask me what waffle means because no idea.”

You started laughing without realizing this is the first time you genuinely laughed this whole week. He joined and you sat on your bar stools trying to decipher your text.”

“No I think it’s ‘you’re wagging’

“Why would you tell me I’m wagging? Was I wagging on the field today?” he asked faking being offended.

“Maybe you were, that’s what the drunk lady thought.”

You sat there laughing uncontrollably at your stupidity for a while when suddenly you felt thirsty.

“You want some wine?” you asked him.

“You know I shouldn’t.” he said but it was obvious he’d love some wine.

“That never stopped you.” you didn’t mean it like a jab but it still sounded like it.

You felt the air shift but didn’t want that, even if this was wrong it felt so in place and right that you didn’t want to end up in a fight. You were feeling like yourself again and as pathetic as it sounds, hoped he wouldn’t leave.

You poured two glasses of wine and started talking about anything and everything, you told him about your supervisor getting on your nerves and he filled you in about Kyle Walker’s situation but the topic never came to you and you hoped it wouldn’t. After some more glasses you were back to being drunker than drunk and Ruben was full on tipsy. He never admitted to it but you knew he was lightweight.

“Omg it’s 3 am I have to be at work in exactly 6 hours.” you winced thinking about the hangover you’ll feel tomorrow.

When Ruben didn’t respond, you looked up at him and found him already looking at you with an intense gaze.

“What?” you asked. “Is there something on my face?”

He just smiled and leaned in. You should back off, you should back off, you should back off your logical side tried to reming you but your body had other thoughts. You leaned in so much that your noses were touching now.

“Ruben” you whispered as a last attempt to stop yourself and him because you knew the moment his lips were on yours it was game over. It always was, your sexual tension was always there but he didn’t stop, instead crashed his lips into yours for a hungry kiss. It was a messy kiss full of unspoken feelings. Everything you couldn’t tell each other was a part of it but you couldn’t stop. You mentally tried but it was a lost battle, your body acted before you could think and you placed your hands in his hair meanwhile he held you by your waist and walked you to your bedroom without breaking the kiss.

You stopped kissing him when the backs of your legs hit the bed.

“Ruben we shouldn’t.” you pleaded once more but weren’t strong enough to protest for long. His eyes turned darker with every passing second and were boring into your soul. Every part of you wanted him, needed him and you knew he felt the same.

“I’ve missed you so much querida.” he mumbled and took his shirt off while sitting you down. You couldn’t help but stare, he was so beautiful and you were getting wetter by the second but he hadn’t even touched you.

This time you took the leap and pulled him onto the bed, once he was on you straddled him and started running your lips on his collarbone and the back of his ear. Your logic was already out of the window and you were left with your undeniable desire for Ruben. He was letting out some quiet moans and you couldn’t believe a man could sound so angelic.

The next morning you woke up to the sound of your alarm with a horrible headache, every part of your body was sore and you felt even more restless than the night before. You swung the duvet off your body but stopped when you felt someone next to you. You froze when you realized what happened last night and saw Ruben peacefully sleeping in the bed with you. Your memory started coming back in bits and pieces and you mentally face palmed yourself for letting this happen. He was in a relationship and you shouldn’t have done this, you were feeling horrible and your stomach dropped. You quickly gathered your clothes and hopped in and out of the shower.

After you got ready in the bathroom you slowly walked in your bedroom, a part of you was expecting him to be gone but the other part wanted him there forever. You were conflicted and still had to go to work quickly. You thought about waking him up but were afraid to confront Ruben so you slowly took your bag and exited your home leaving him in there.

You didn’t think you could feel worse than yesterday but turns out, everything is possible.

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thisss turned out so different than what i had in mind but i love ittt! as always any feedback is appreciated take care loves💕💕

#football #football imagine #football x reader #football x y/n #football oneshot #football x you #football blurb #football one shot #ruben dias x you #ruben dias angst #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias oneshot #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city

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milaisreading · 1 year

Note

Hi, can i request something about the players fighting for who get the managers birthday number like for example if the manager was born on 11th of July then the birthday number is 11

Author: I hope u find this to ur liking and thank u for the request🩷 the date I took is honestly random, just pretend it's your birthday on February 4th

Warnings ⚠️: none in particular. Reader uses she/her. Requests are open!

⚽️Blue lock belongs to: Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Hmmm I wonder who will get which jersey number." Bachira hummed to himself as the team was resting the their room. Nagi looked away from his phone and thought it over for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders.

"Whichever we get will be fine. The most important part is that we can play soon." The white haired boy said back. Chigiri was fast asleep on his futon and Isagi used the opportunity to cover him up with one of the blankets. Hiori nodded his head as Niko and Gagamaru were chatting with each other next to him.

"Besides, I am really excited to be able to play against a team like the U-20. It will just show how much we improved as players."

"Yeah, I can't wait for to see their defeated looks. That old man from the JFU will eat up his words in a few weeks."

"What do you mean, Baro?" Yukimiya asked, looking at the tall boy.

"Yeah? What did he even say?"

"How this is all a waste of money and that Ego-san will be out of job the moment Japan's star players defeat us. He said that we will be out of opportunities to play at the World Cup."

"Where did you hear that?" Rin blinked, getting a little heated by those words.

"I heard (Y/n) and Teieri-san talk about it a few days ago. (Y/n) sounded pretty upset at some points."

"Was she? Well imagine how upset that old geezer will be is 'accidentally' a ball was to hits him in the face." Reo said in a cold tone, looking between Isagi and Nagi, who seemed to get the message.

"Yeah, by accident... imagine how badly he will be hurt."

"So hurt that he might think twice on opening his mouth." Isagi and Nagi said, already agreeing on a plan with the purple-haired boy.

"Where are Karasu and Otoya anyways? It's close to our bedtime." Gagamaru suddenly spoke up, noticing the duo missing.

"They are still eating since they had to do some extra laps for joking and messing around." Kurona answered.

"And Aryu?"

"You know je stays behind for (Y/n) to braid his hair... Lucky bastard, I wish I had long hair." Isagi said, prompting the others to nod their heads.

"No way, it would look much better on me."

"Shut up Karasu, you don't have the grace to carry that number. I on the other hand..."

"You are both wrong, the number would look way better on me."

The rest of the group, minus Chigiri, looked at Karasu, Aryu and Otoya as they walked inside, wondering what they could be arguing about now.

"What happened?" Rin asked calmly.

"We were talking about our jersey numbers we will be receiving in a few days." Otoya answered, annoyed with his two friends.

"What a coincidence! I am not the only one who is curious." Bachira exclaimed.

"Well, I have been telling my wonderful friends..." Karasu said sarcastically as he pointed at Aryu and Otoya.

"That I should be the one to carry the number 4."

"And gave no justification on why."

"Neither did you, Aryu!"

"My looks are enough of a justification!"

"Wait! Why the number 4?" Niko wondered.

"Well, (Y/n)'s birthday is on February 4th, it would be so cute for me to wear her number." Otoya said calmly as the other two kept on arguing.

"You all are being stupid." Reo said.

"He is right... I should be the one with the number 4." Nagi added, earning a glare from his friend.

"Nagi you backstabber! That number is mine!"

"Hold up! I want the number 4!" Gagamaru suddenly added.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but goalkeepers usually get the number 1... I as a captain should get that privilege." Rin said, pointing at himself.

"No! Me, I am the ace of Blue Lock, and (Y/n) gets along way better with me!" Isagi protested as Baro sent them both a glare.

"I think I have more rights to that number than any of you, I am a way stronger player."

"Well, I am smarter. The number should be mine."

The room soon turned into a arguing mess and out of curiosity what it was about, Ego turned on one of his cameras. And boy did he regret that decision.

'I hate kids.' He rubbed his face.

During the whole ordeal Chigiri was asleep, too tired from the training.

A few days passed and the team excitedly too the jerseys (Y/n) and Anri had brought them. The two looked on in confusion as their excited expressions turned into sour ones.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, you guys look like someone kicked a puppy. Are the uniforms bad?" Anri and (Y/n) wondered as the boys shook their heads, saying how it was nothing.

"It fits perfectly. The blue shade is nice too." The team looked at Chigiri, who had put his shirt already on, and it felt like a ton of ice fell on the room as they saw the number on his jersey.

'Why did he get the number 4?!'

'Not the princess beating me to it!'

'Blatant favoritism on Ego's part!'

The team thought, forcefully smiling at Chigiri, who was unaware of the fight from a few nights ago.

"They are weird today... well, weirder than usually." Anri whispered to (Y/n), who nodded her head in agreement.

"Maybe pre-game fever?"

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vickyvicarious · 9 months

Note

The death alarms must be blaring loud in Mina's ears by now. "God bless and keep him" is as if she wants to manifest him being alive. While getting radio silence from him, coupled with her new friend telling her that he'll soon die (which made her tear up), and then Indeed Dying, her reading about the ship of death, the funerals...

Absolutely, they're blaring nonstop.

She hasn't heard from Jonathan in a long time. Actually, let's take a look at this timeline of Jonathan's letters...

12 May - Sent two letters (one each to Mina and Mr. Hawkins) on Dracula's behest saying he's leaving in a month.

19 May - Made to write three dictated letters.

28 May - Real letters confiscated, shorthand one to Mina burned. One supposedly sent to Mr. Hawkins telling him to talk to Mina (may have just been a taunt from Dracula/may not have actually been sent).

12 June - Expected departure based on 12 May letter. Dictated letter that he'll be leaving in a few more days mailed.

19 June - Dictated letter that he's leaving the next day mailed.

29 June - Dictated letter that he is in Bistritz mailed.

1 July - Mina presumably receives letter from 12 May (see 1 August). Expects him home soon based on the contents.

25 July - Letter to Mr. Hawkins arrives (forwarded to Mina next day). Seems to be the one sent on 19 June based on the contents.

1 August - Mina says she hasn't heard from him in a whole month (probably referencing a letter to her specifically, must be the one from 12 May). "I hope there cannot be anything the matter with Jonathan."

3 August - "Oh, I do hope he is not ill."

8 August - "Somehow I felt glad that Jonathan was not on the sea last night, but on land. But, oh, is he on land or sea? Where is he, and how?"

10 August - "I should be quite happy if I only knew if Jonathan.... God bless and keep him."

So yeah, it seems like she hasn't gotten a letter directly from Jonathan in over a month - and I'm willing to bet that letter wasn't super effusive. It still was nowhere near as alarming as the one she was forwarded from Mr. Hawkins later, though. That one is even more directly dictated by Dracula and she's very clear that it doesn't seem like Jonathan's usual writing style. She even suspects a forgery, but his handwriting convinces her otherwise in the end.

If I'm reading this correctly, it took about 8 weeks for Mina to get the letter Jonathan wrote on 12 May, and about 5 weeks for Mr. Hawkins to get the one sent on 19 June. Assuming the latter timeline is more typical (since who knows how long Dracula took to get around to mailing that first letter; the later three are specifically dated), the letter saying he's in Bistritz is actually already running a week late. (If we split the difference, then it could be expected very soon, though.) Meanwhile, for all Mina knows Jonathan left the castle just about two months ago and hasn't communicated at all since. Setting aside that it should not take him that long to come home (I don't have the time right now to look up how long the journey is supposed to take, but definitely less than this), it's still wildly out of character for him not to let her know if he has been delayed further for some reason.

So yeah, that's all deeply alarming. And then we get on to her pleasantly distracting summer vacation, which so far is anything but. Lucy is sleepwalking, Mrs. Westenra is freaked about it, Mina has to watch over her and thus is getting little sleep herself. This doubtless increases her stress levels on its own, but I suspect also is what leads her to hint at him possibly being ill. She does the same thing later on; after there is a bad storm and a ship crashes ashore with no one alive aboard, she doubts whether he is on sea and wonders where he is. And then today, after attending the funeral/after her friend's death, she comes close to wondering if he is even alive, before trailing off and just praying for him instead.

All the bad stuff happening around her keeps making her think of what might be happening to Jonathan too, and the possibilities are just steadily getting worse... but all could end in death. Maybe he caught some illness and died with no one looking after him (Lucy). Maybe he was traveling on a ship and drowned in a storm (Demeter). Maybe he was attacked and murdered (Mr. Swales - though Mina doesn't say he has been, the nature of his death could easily remind her of such a possibility).

Maybe this all happened weeks ago.

She has no way of knowing, and thus nothing she can do about it. Last she heard he'd left the castle, so even if she wanted to go search for him (and somehow found the money for a sustained search), she wouldn't have any clear destination. It's just "somewhere between Transylvania and England" and that's a big space. So all she can do is worry over him. Try to deny the possibility.

Pray.

#dracula daily #mina murray #jonathan harker #jonmina #anonymous #replies

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najaemism · 5 months

Text

heart can't lose [71]

PAIRING. lee haechan x fem!oc

WARNINGS. very light angst, hurt/comfort

WORD COUNT. 0.8k words

SUMMARY. fourth year pre-med student and neo university student council president, haechan lee does not have the time for relationships. instead, he focuses his attention on his studies and extracurriculars, so as not to disappoint his parents. that is until hera seo came along—and everyone starts to wonder if the university’s golden boy would finally let his heart lose.

IT HAD BEEN about fifteen minutes since Donghyuck had arrived at Hera’s apartment, and since then, the girl had not spoken one full sentence to her boyfriend. They were both in her room, since she deemed their conversation to be something only the two of them should hear, and Nari was in the living room finishing up some work that she had to take home.

Donghyuck was sitting on her swivel chair near her study desk, while Hera was sitting on her bed, brows furrowed as she looked down at her hands, still not sure how to tell her boyfriend about her plans after graduation.

“Juno, you’re making me nervous here,” Donghyuck broke the silence, letting out a nervous chuckle as he looked at her. “What is it that you want to talk to me about?”

“I’ve talked to my family about what my plans are after graduation,” she finally spoke, her voice low as she still looked at her hands, fiddling with the hem of her sweater.

“Are you still going through with grad school? You told me about that a few months ago.”

“No,” she replied, “not yet, at least.” She finally looked up to meet his eyes. “Remember when I said I’d prefer working first before taking my masters?” she asked, and he nodded, urging for her to continue. “I’m taking the board exams in July,” she said, and she took note of how his eyebrows were raised in surprise.

“Oh—that’s amazing, Juno. You would have better working opportunities when you have your license,” he commented, smiling at her, “You’ve been reviewing for it, then? While doing your teaching internship?”

She nodded, then swallowed the lump in her throat. “After taking the boards, I’m set to work at this private school while I wait for the results. Dad says it usually takes a few months, and we… we have this family friend who owns a private school, so I’ll be there,” she then explained.

Donghyuck looked genuinely happy for her after-graduation plans that it made her heart ache. “That sounds really good, Juno, I don’t see why you’re—”

“It’s in San Francisco.”

He blinked—once, twice, then let out a soundless “Oh.”

“That’s…” he cleared his throat, “That’s what you want to do?” he asked, eyes still trained on her.

“Yes.”

His lips gently upturned into a smile, the look in his eyes wistful as he said: “Then I fully support you with that, Juno.”

She looked at him in confusion. “You’re… you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad about that?”

“For starters, I’d be miles away from you,” she pointed out, “I chased after you for weeks only to leave in a few months, and... and I had these after-grad plans decided already without even telling you about it, and—”

“Juno.”

She looked at him, her shoulders dropping as she felt her tears start to form. “I’m sorry, Donghyuck.”

“Hey,” he called, before standing up from his seat and making his way towards her, kneeling on the floor in front of her while she still sat on the bed. He cupped her cheek before he continued, “You don’t have to apologize about that, I know that that’s what you want to do. I know how much you love teaching, you’re doing what you want to do, and that’s fine,” he told her. “I may not be part of your plans, but I will always support you, baby, you know that.”

She closed her eyes as her tears fell, while Donghyuck pulled her in and leaned her forehead against his, his eyes closing as well. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I know,” she muttered, “I love you, too.”

He smiled again as he leaned back to look at her, caressing her cheek as her eyes fluttered open. “We still have three months before you leave. It’s fine—we’ll be fine,” he assured her as he wiped her tears with his thumb.

“You’re not—you’re not breaking up with me?”

He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at her question. “Unless you want to break up with me? No, I’m not, breaking up with you,” he replied, “You waited weeks for me to come around and get my shit together just so we could be together—I’m sure I can wait for you, too.”

“This is different—what if I decide not to come back?”

“Then, I’ll go to you,” he answered quickly, as if he’d thought it through before—as if there was no other place he’d rather be than with her. “Of course, I’d have to finish med school first, then I’d be with you—does that sound alright with you?”

She blinked down at him, surprised with how well he was taking it all. “Yeah—yes, that sounds… that sounds alright with me?” she replied a bit hesitantly.

He smiled at her before leaning up to kiss her.

“I love you, Juno. My feelings for you won’t change just because of a little distance. Take your time, and I’ll take mine, and when the time’s right, I know we’ll be together,” he said, “But that doesn’t mean we’ll break up—we’ll just be apart from each other for a while, okay?”

She nodded, smiling through her tears. “Okay. I love you.”

“Okay,” he breathed out before he finally wrapped his arms around her, hugging her while she buried her face on his chest.

There’s no turning back for me, I’ll be I’ll wait ‘til the mountains cross the seas ‘Til all the secrets are set free Meeting you there on bended knee.

SEVENTY ONE. | prev / masterlist / next

NOTE. this was supposed to be a fluffy chapter actually........ yeah...... we're near the end though :p

TAGLIST. @radiorenjun @bluejaem @pink-but-rosie @renjun-pretty @holdinbacksecrets @rynshyuckies @jelllyjae @jenyongcas @whyisquill @beemarkie @morkxlee @hibuki-chan @moonwalkun @lyyhyuck @baekhyunstruly @lilacdreams-00 @ridinhyuck @archivedmkl @najaeminluvbot @jiye0n0 @rensiu @morkleetrash @neo444 @hrjchive @keemburley @soobin-chois @yiz-yo @juune04 @nctasdfghj @hyckio @studywoo @jun5ui @smolpeyy @mahae66 @kkotjia @yoonhanzjaem @goldryush @stopeatread @hibernatinghamster @shwizhies @zgzgzh @bbymatz @eyantice @w0nderr @dinonuguaegi @neozon3nha @mnlylonely

HCL TAGLIST. @aedreamzy @rrnhyuck @reinde3r @daegalfangirl @yixingtion @dandelionxgal @thesunsfullmoon @yangsbff @y3jiishot @purpleheejin @prdshobi

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ataleofcrowns · 1 year

Text

Chapter 11 Progress [14/MAY]

Hey everyone, it's been a minute since my last update on the blog!! Happy mother's day to all the moms out there 💖

By the time of writing this, I have 40k words written for CH11, and I am both happy and mildly horrified to report that CH11 is looking up to be the biggest chapter yet by a mile. It's very likely the total word count will break through 90k words, primarily due to the LI routes.

First, I've finished the first draft for X's route for CH11 and am mildly exasperated by my inability to properly estimate how long these sections will be.

I thought it would amount to 10k at most, but X's route ended up with 18k words. This is mostly due to all the Imperial Court variations in their opening scene, because I'm a masochist. A single playthrough of X's route is more like 14k words, though, depending on the variations you get.

I'm also close to finishing R's route and have 8k words written for it so far. Their and A's routes will be a little less in word count, since they got more content in CH10, but they'll both likely still be 10-12k words. D's will likely be closer to X's route in word count, around 14-15k.

Altogether, this chapter's LI routes alone will likely be close to 60k for all four. So that leaves the rest of the 30k for the main plot, which I haven't started yet. I literally only have words written for R and X, as well as bits and snippets for A and D so far lol.

Please pray for me so that I can release this chapter in July and give you all a summer miracle 🙏🏼

Anyway, enough about the word count!! I've got some preview posting to catch up to, so beneath the cut you'll find various snippets for X and R's routes in CH11 that were posted on the Patreon.

Hopefully I'll be able to post some for A and D soon as well, once I dig into their routes in the coming weeks.

Here's a small preview of a bit you might see occur across all LI routes, though it still depends on who is appointed to your Imperial Court (and the Lord Samal referenced here is specific to X's route as well):

“Chief Minister, is this allowed? There must be procedure for the appointment of officials—” “It is all at the Crown’s discretion,” Chief Minister Karwan states simply, turning away from the representative again to face forward instead. “But this is highly unusual!” The Minister breathes an exasperated sigh. “Oh, quiet down! Were you not using the same technicalities to get your way a moment ago, you insolent dog?” “Do not speak to me that way!” Lord Samal erupts. “I serve Mîr Behram!” “And I was already serving the Crowns of this Empire when your master was still suckling at the teat!” the Chief Minister snaps. “Now be a good boy and come to heel, we have many more matters to discuss.”

Here's a preview for X's route:

“Why do you have that dagger?” You turn to look at $aname, taken aback by how stunned $athey appears. “$xname gave it to me.” “$cxthey gave it to you?” $aname repeats incredulously, glancing back down at the dagger in your hands. “Did $xthey tell you who it originally belonged to?” “It belonged to someone else?” You assumed $xname was the only one who owned it, but looking at it again, you can notice subtle wear and tear despite its well-cared-for state. Little scratches along its sheath, the edges of pearl looking a little worn along the handle. “Whose was it?” “$cxtheir mother’s.” Your fingers tighten around its sheath in shock, then twitch with the urge to put it away. “$cxtheir mother’s? Why would…” You look down at the dagger in complete disbelief. “Why would $xthey give it to me?”

And finally, here's a preview for R's route:

Your hands reach for $rthem, but then halt and hover in mid-air, uncertain of whether you should even touch $rthem while $rthey’s in this state. “It’s alright,” Perjin speaks quietly from beside you. “You can hold $rtheir hand, if you wish. Your magic won’t cause any problems.” You take a slow, deep breath, calming yourself as you sit down on the edge of the bed and gently take $rname’s hand in yours. “$crtheir fingers are cold.” Alarmed, you rub $rtheir hand, feeling how clammy and cool $rtheir skin is. You turn to Perjin. “Why does $rthey feel cold? What’s happening to $rthem?”

That was it for this update ✨

I’m posting further updates and CH11 previews on the Patreon for all tiers, as well as all sorts of fun extra LI/Crown snippets, so if you’d like more AToC content while you wait for CH11, consider pledging!!

As always, thanks so much for your patience and support 💖

#a tale of crowns #interactive fiction #progress report #preview

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ten-cent-sleuth · 6 months

Text

A Galling Yoke, Part 12

<- Prev | Next ->

for the “Where did this come from?” square on my July Break Bingo card

See this post for main info, including a masterlist and synopsis. See this post for warnings.

Word Count: 4.1k

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x f!Reader

Rating: Teen

Baker Street, despite the sun lowering towards the horizon, was awake and moving when you stepped foot on it. A chill breeze blew through you, pricking at your already numbed face. Almost there, you tried to reassure yourself, with as much success as you tried warming up by chafing your frozen hands against your frozen shoulders.

Even when you got to Sherlock’s building, however, reassurance was not at hand. You knocked, and his landlady graciously let you enter and stay by his door—apparently, he had given her a note weeks ago that anyone bearing your name was to be let into the building—but he was not at home. Still. Sitting on the landing outside his flat and folding into yourself was the most rest and comfort you’d experienced in… Well, you didn’t know how long. And it was warm. So very warm…

You were aware of how rudely you’d been awoken before you were aware that you’d dozed off.

“Your ladyship!” shouted a voice as the attached hand jostled you. “You must wake, now!”

You glared up at the blurry face before you. “Must I, ma’am?” You blinked a few times. “That is—sir… Sherlock?”

The crease in his brow collapsed, like dead weight plunging to the floor. “My lady,” he breathed. “You terrorised me. You were shivering, and your skin was ice cold—do you not know that you cannot sleep when you are too cold, lest you never—?” He broke off, but you nodded in understanding.

“I have been walking outside for hours.”

You had meant to comfort him by offering up an explanation for why you were so cold, but he only looked more alarmed. “Hours?” he said. “It has been snowing all—how—why—?”

Your eyes widened as you remembered exactly why. “Oh, Sherlock,” you exclaimed, lurching to your feet. “I have uncovered— That is, I have— Oh dear, I feel rather strange of a sudden…”

Blood rushing to your head, you stumbled a little and would have fallen down the staircase if Sherlock did not catch you and heft you back up.

“Forgive me,” you mumbled. Held close to his body heat, you felt drowsier than ever. “For this, and for the thing…the thing a few days ago…the things I said. Forgive me, Sherlock—Mr Holmes.”

“My lady…”

With a hum, you nuzzled into his chest. This already felt like forgiveness.

But then the soft support you were leaning against stiffened. “Your ladyship. Where did this come from?”

“Hmm? Ow!”

However gently, he had touched your scalp, and you realised suddenly that the area was stinging. Your hands flew up to prod at the tender skin as your memory rewound a bit and recalled your abductor striking you in the head hard enough to knock you out cold.

“Well, sir—”

“And these?” interrupted Sherlock, grabbing your wrists with one hand and turning them over to his sight. “Where did these burns come from? What has happened to you?”

Begrudgingly, you leaned away from him to get a better look at what had him so vexed. “Oh,” you mumbled: your palms were bright red and blistering. When had that happened? “Oh, right.”

“Who did this to you?” he growled.

“Ah, you see, the burns I actually gave myself—”

“What?”

“—but they were necessary! In all likelihood, I turned out much better than he.” You paused as your own words sunk in. You had left that man to die. What if he actually had?

But Sherlock interrupted such thoughts with a waspish, “He?” Shrewd eyes scanned you up and down, darkening with every statement that followed. “Your hair is an utter mess. Your dress is askew—your skirt is torn— Who is ‘he’?”

“I… I know not,” you admitted. “But I believe he is the hitman who was hired by—that is, who killed my husband. He was at Cable Street, summoned, I believe, by Mrs Kinley. And I was at Cable Street because…” Wait, should you explain the familial connection between the nurse and the hitman first? You pressed the back of your hand to your brow; your temples were starting to throb. “Forgive me, Mr Holmes. I am finding it rather difficult to think.”

Sherlock scowled at that but did not hesitate to move both of you to his door and to unlock it. “I shall get a fire going.” His fingers tightened around your arm where they had been heretofore guiding you gently forward, and you understood with a regretful cringe that he was thinking of—as you were—the last time you had been around the hearth in his flat. Still, a fire sounded divine.

He carefully lowered you into the seat nearest to the iron panel, and as you watched him start the fire, you felt your heart melt first. You had missed him. You had missed him terribly, and you couldn’t believe he would still speak to you—welcome you into his home, even. Unfortunately, little beyond your heart did much melting.

The cold had seeped through your clothes, leaving them damp and rigid, and into your skin, sinking down every layer to the bone marrow. You shivered as you watched the flames begin their dance.

And then a fluffy weight fell around your shoulders. You looked up and met Sherlock’s stormy gaze.

“I suspect you have caught a chill, my lady,” he said. “If the fire warms you not within the next few minutes, you shall require a hot bath.”

Your cheeks alone warmed a little at that.

“In any case,” he continued, “you ought to change out of those wet clothes, though it should not hurt to give you those few minutes to regain some strength.” He looked away, ostensibly to grab another blanket for your lap. “You may use that time to tell me what has occurred.”

Eyes lowered, you recounted your sudden realisation about Mrs Kinley, your visit to Miss Algar’s flat, your abduction, and your escape. You skipped over the details of your ordeal, partly because you were depleted of any energy to explain, partly because you didn’t want to voice them at all. Your audience seemed to know much was missing from your narration, but after a long look, he only gave you a nod instead of a barrage of questions.

“It was good of you to check in on them,” he murmured, brushing aside some hair stuck to your clammy forehead—absentmindedly, his gaze far away. “Even if Mrs Kinley is indeed family to the hitman, she may still be exploited—and endangered, along with Miss Algar—should she have been unaware all this time of his intentions. He may have merely told her to keep him apprised, without explaining his involvement, which would explain her chariness.”

You were halfway through a nod when a sneeze ripped through you.

Sherlock frowned. “We best get you out of those wet clothes and into bed. I ought to have some old articles of clothing somewhere for you to use.”

“Oh, that is not necessary, sir,” you stammered. “Simply hail a cab for me—I can pay, of course—and I shall return to Voss House—”

“No.”

“Mr Holmes, I cannot impose—”

“It shall not happen!”

You straightened in your seat, shoulders tensing. Sherlock groaned and dragged a hand down his face.

“I meant not to be…domineering,” he said. “But I would not want you in a hackney right now: it is dark and cold, you are ill and injured. Besides, am I not to assume that you came here…for a reason?”

He and you looked at each other for a long, open moment.

You let your shoulders drop. “You are correct, of course,” you said. “Only, I want not to be a burden while you visit with Mrs Kinley and…”

The shake of his head was so unyielding that you immediately fell silent.

“I shall not see her until Monday—or whenever you are well again.”

Your eyes widened. “But— But the case—”

“I care not for the case,” he said, quietly, intensely. “I have not worked on it for days, my lady, not since—” He pursed his lips for a beat. “Not exactly, at any rate. After my last few deductions, I made up my mind. I think there are certain crimes which the law cannot touch, and which therefore, to some extent, justify private revenge. No, it’s no use arguing. My sympathies are with he who was moved to kill rather than with he who was killed, and I would not handle this case. I shall return to Cable Street to see to Miss Algar’s security, and that is all.”

You stared up at him, caught completely off guard.

He looked down to consider the floorboards. “Of course, we shall have to deal with the hitman somehow. I have very limited sympathy for him.” He looked up, regarding your burns for a second before meeting your eyes. “However, we may worry about that on the morrow. Are you able to stand, my lady?”

“I believe so.”

He helped you to his bedroom, which made your head numb and your extremities cold all over again—you had never been in a gentleman’s chambers before, not even Edmund’s—and as he turned to exit and search for dry clothing to lend, you grabbed his wrist.

He stopped in his tracks.

“I… I apologise.” You let go of him, and while his muscles relaxed, his eyes crinkled in reaction. Not knowing what that meant, you brushed it aside. “Would you please send Voss House a note? My staff should not be made to worry about me.”

“Of course.” He paused. “Of course, that would be necessary. I ought to have thought of that.”

You blinked, and he was gone before you could ask him about his abnormal behaviour.

He came back with the clothes and, permitting you to change in privacy, left to send off the note. Alone, you allowed yourself to bask in the feeling of wearing Sherlock’s sleepwear old, worn, and warm. Long after you had returned these to him, you would carry that feeling, you knew.

After blowing out the candle, you got into bed and pulled the covers close, but when Sherlock came in, he did not hesitate to tuck you in even more snugly.

“I…thank you,” you whispered into the dark. “You do much, sir, and I really do regret the burden I…”

“Shh,” he replied, and you wished you could see where he was. He sounded close, but the dark could distort perception into either nightmare or fantasy.

As he bustled about the room, ensuring the windows were shut firmly and starting another fire in this fireplace, you started to drift off. The last thing you were aware enough to be sure of was his whispering, “You are never a burden, little petal.”

Your slumber was deep and restorative for the first few hours but soon transitioned into fitfulness. Chills wracked your physical frame while fever dreams wreaked havoc on your mental one, and your only relief was the caring touch of Sherlock’s apt fingers. Whether it was wiping your sweat and hair out of uncomfortable nooks or coaxing you to sip some water with prods to your chin, his touch was your anchor. Sometimes, the back of his hand on your forehead was the only snatch of the tangible world that you could get past the blurred outlines of your ailing state.

At a certain point, the mental fog thickened: during the night—at least, you assumed, though that assumption was merely based on the fact you had been sleeping—you had jerked awake with a whimper, grasping at your leg. You had heard Sherlock’s voice, but your brain tuned it out in favour of blaring at you make it stop make it stop make it stop.

“Hurts,” you’d gasped between jabs of pain around, under, and out of your right knee. You were speaking to yourself, and to anyone who’d listen, and to anyone who wouldn’t. “Hurts s’much. Please, please…”

He had said something. You couldn’t make out the words, but the soothing undertones had lulled you into trusting silence long enough for him to creak across the floorboards and vanish out the door. You’d stumbled, dizzy, into half-consciousness by the time he returned.

“Petal. My dear, open those darling eyes for me, I know you can.”

Though you’d swatted at his prodding hands with irked mutters, you’d opened your eyes.

He had tipped his head at you, grinning. “Very good. I thank you, my lady. Now, I have retrieved something for your pain. Open up.”

“What is it? I do not like laudanum—it is vile,” you had tried to say, but your tongue had felt too heavy, your throat too sticky. Instead, you had shaken your head as vehemently as your vertigo would allow.

He had sat on the bed and rubbed your arm up and down. “Please, do not distress yourself, petal. You are in pain, and it may get worse.”

Shuddering, you had recalled the last time you’d had a bad flare-up. It had left you bedridden for over a day, and it hadn’t been as provoked as this one surely had.

“Do you trust me?” he had whispered.

You had trembled with fatigue, depleted by the simple tasks of keeping your eyelids up and keeping your head above the waves of agony crashing over you. You hadn’t had energy to spare for talking, but you had wanted the words out. “Unreservedly,” you’d croaked. “No matter what.”

His smile had been tender then, and you had opened your mouth to accept whatever medicine he had procured, pungently bitter laudanum or not. Arm around your shoulders, he had helped you sit up and swallow it down. But he hadn’t let go even after that. Usually, when your knee acted up and started affecting your whole body, anybody else’s touch—even presence in the room—felt too much, but right then, with the illness and anguish caused by your recent ordeal, you had felt entirely cosy and right curled up against Sherlock’s chest. Just this once.

“It shall take a few minutes to take effect,” he’d said softly, his warm breath skimming over your skin.

“Mhmm.”

“Until it does, I wished to… I needed to…to clarify a fact…”

You’d hummed, prompting.

“Your leg. This injury, this pain of yours… It is Sulyard’s doing? If not for him, you would not be suffering right now?”

You’d hesitated, then opted to at least give him, if not an expounding answer, a small nod. Surely Sherlock could piece—had pieced—together the details: an argument, a raging husband, a smack, a stumble, a trip, a fall down the stairs.

The full force of those details had resounded in Sherlock’s timbre as he’d growled, “It is almost a shame that he is already dead, for I would gladly skin him now—but only almost, as I cannot repine the betterment of the world in his absence.”

You had buried your smile in his chest. As the medicine—or whatever it was—had started to take effect, you had found the strength to tell him, “’M so glad you’ve returned t’me, Sherlock…” You didn’t catch his reply.

That was the only moment you could recall with any clarity. Though there were more instances of almost-consciousness—you might have even heard the murmur of conversation at some point—the next time you were lucid, you could tell from the stiffness in your back and the grime caked on your skin that at least a couple of days had passed. With a groan, you shifted around on the bed to take stock of your poor vessel for this mortal coil.

Craning your neck this way and that on your pillow, you noted your head was still stuffed heavy and throbbing dully, though no longer fuzzy. Tensing and testing the muscles in your feet, your calves, and your thighs, you could tell your legs were sore and likely would be for some time, but they weren’t so irate with you anymore. Lifting your arms to stretch them, you found them unwieldy but that was no surprise—

What was, however, were the cloths wrapped securely around your hands. You held one close to your face, wheezing, “What on Earth…?”

Your mouth snapped shut as a groan—this one not yours—and the creaking of wood sounded throughout the room. Achingly sitting up, you spotted Sherlock sleeping—and fast awakening—in a chair too small for his wide frame.

Gracious. Has he been here the whole time?

He blinked his eyes open, and you blurted out, “Forgive me, sir; I did not mean to disturb you.”

“I do wish you would stop the constant apologies.”

“Forgi—” You bit your lip. “Ah, that is… Good morning?”

Disgruntlement cleared the lingering sleepiness on his face. “I would argue that it is more of a miraculous one.”

It was your turn to blink slowly. You opened your mouth to apologise for whatever you had apparently done to cause his poor mood, but remembered his rebuke in time. He did not wait for you to come up with something else to say.

“Your condition deteriorated abruptly yesterday,” he informed you grimly. “Your fever broke just as abruptly in the night, so I suppose it was a simple matter of getting worse before getting better, but I cannot… I could not…” Heaving a deep exhale, he veered to his feet. “I demand to know, your ladyship, why you went to Cable Street without me.”

Again, you blinked. That’s what his heartfelt speech led to? “I… I had been caught up in the urgency, I suppose, but I also… At the time, that is, I also thought of it as my burden to bear.”

Your voice had shrunk as you went on, and Sherlock’s next words were just as quiet.

“This could have all been avoided if I had been with you.”

You swallowed. “Yes. It had been reckless to go alone. And you, specifically, I should not have kept out of the investigation, even if it would have been difficult to approach you about it after, well…after. It is no excuse.”

He neither agreed nor countered, stalking over to the fire to stoke it halfheartedly.

“Indeed, sir…,” you ventured, fiddling with the blanket, “I am surprised by the lengths to which you would go to care for me after all I have put you through, emotionally and professionally.”

“I am not,” he said, though he spoke more to the fireplace than to you. “I ought to be, surely. Surprise or confusion or censure—any of those would be natural in response to such illogical choices on my part. But no, what is natural to me in this instant—as natural as breathing, as blinking—is to want you to be safe and healthy, and more than that, to ensure that I see to it that you are safe and healthy.”

He still didn’t face you, but you couldn’t begrudge him his having his back to you, as that was the only way you could muster the courage to say—

“You are not angry, then, sir?”

His shoulders went rigid, then dropped. “After we last…parted ways, I realised you had known all along a potential motive for Sulyard’s death and never shared it. Of course, I was angry—furious, really.”

Your bottom lip wobbled. “Oh.”

“But then—” Slowly, he turned around and walked towards the bed. “Then, I realised you had not been actively undermining the case, not until that day. Which meant you had not known all along a potential motive, which meant it had not even occurred to you that the victim’s abusiveness would be a motive, which meant…”

Close enough to touch, now, Sherlock’s clouded gaze was as clear to you as his deductions were to him.

He sat down gingerly beside you. Which meant you hadn’t even thought your pain was that important.

You let out a shaky breath. Which meant you hadn’t even thought anyone would’ve cared enough to do something about it.

He cupped your cheek and caressed it with the pad of his thumb. Which meant you hadn’t even thought—

“I am sorry,” you choked out.

“My lady…”

“I am sorry I did not tell you about Edmund. Even if it were not the motive, it was pertinent to the case and I— I—”

“Do not be,” he said, his voice firm and grave even as he brushed aside your tears with utmost tenderness. “Do not be. You were right, darling. This is your life. Nobody—not even the closest companion, or the cleverest—is entitled to that.”

You leaned forward, dipping your head down. “You were right, too. Behind society’s and others’ expectations, I have hidden what is difficult to show—to share.” Mrs Rogers’s face flashed in your mind, and then Eudoria’s. “But I…I know not how to stop. I know not how to be the girl you knew, who could be free with her heart and let you in. Not anymore, I fear.”

Sherlock shook his head. “You need not. Indeed, in the past few days, I have realised that despite how I have changed and how you have changed—or due to it—you have not shut me out. I may have been wrong for forcing my way into your private information, but I stand by my belief that I know you. I do know things about you that matter; I was only mistaken in what, precisely, that means.”

Your own voice echoed in your head: You know naught what matters! Shame suffused your cheeks to recall the impetuous harshness with which you’d treated your oldest friend, but still… You could no longer blame him for not knowing you beyond his deductions—it was you who struggled with pushing him away, after all—but the fact remained that he didn’t know you beyond his deductions…right?

Using his thumb now to trace your jaw, he said, “To know you completely does not mean seeing what no one else can see. What you have endured is not who you are. To know you completely means seeing what no one else cares to see.

“I see your sweeping compassion in how you care for Pashbroke, Mrs Rogers, Enola, even Miss Algar. I see your quiet intelligence in how you manipulated your kidnapper so that you could escape, just as you controlled the conversation with Lady Brindon and Dr Crawford.

“I know your character, your values, your scent.”

You stopped breathing, his other hand clasping over yours as they trembled in your lap.

“I can envision how your hips and arms move when you walk, as clearly as I can envision how you would react in any given situation, as clearly as—”

“Sherlock.”

“As clearly as I can envision how at home the taste of you makes me feel.” His lips brushed against yours, tantalising your every sense, your very blood.

The contact was feather-light, a whisper of a kiss, yet it knocked your world completely off its axis. You were left spinning, dizzy, as he eased away.

“You are still the girl I knew,” he breathed into your space. “To know you completely is not a matter of deduction, but of devotion.”

Both of his hands moved to frame your face, leaving yours to tremble all the more freely now. As he drew you closer, your thoughts scrambled for justification. Surely now, surely if, surely with—?

But no. Now that you had gotten the hitman involved, there was only one way to end this without any more bloodshed: to close the case.

Clenching one hand into a fist in your lap, you lifted the other to hold Sherlock back. “We should not… I cannot…”

The hurt in his eyes nearly did you in.

“There are aspects of this case that you do not—cannot—understand,” you whispered. “Sherlock…I still plan to turn myself in.”

For some reason, that seemed to assuage some of his pain. “I see.” He paused before clapping his hands together. “Well then, I am in the mood for a walk.”

You gaped. “A w— What?”

“A walk,” he said, rather cheerily for a gentleman whose advances had just been rebuffed yet again, as he climbed to his feet. “Not far, of course, but you mentioned some weeks ago that light exercise is better for your knee than sedentariness.”

He held out his arm, and through your bemusement, you managed to grab onto it and be pulled up. “I did mention that,” you said, dazed. What was going on?

Slowly but steadily, Sherlock led you to the armoire for a robe, out of the bedroom, across the hallway, into the living room—

You froze. “Is that…?” You strained your ears to confirm that the banging and puttering-about noises were coming from this flat’s kitchen. “Is somebody else here, Sherlock?”

Before the detective could answer, an exclamation came from whoever had evidently heard you speak. Then, there were rushing footsteps, and in ran Viscount of Pashbroke, The Right Honourable William Voss.

Sorry for the extended wait with this one, but hey, it’s the longest part so far! Which I did not expect at all from my outline lol. THIS chapter beat the tearoom and the art gallery and the kidnapping scenes? Okay. xD Thank you for reading. Sickfic stuff is not my forté, so feedback is always welcome!

Taglist [comment below if you’d like to be added!]: @theyaremorethanjustfictional @wonderlandfandomkingdom

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #henry cavill sherlock x reader #protective sherlock holmes #x reader sickfic #henry cavill fanfiction #enola holmes #a galling yoke #the dimensions of fandom

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sataniquepanique · 2 years

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New York, I Love You.

Summary: Eddie plans a trip to NYC for your anniversary, but becomes distant once you land in the city that never sleeps. You know he's hiding something, but you're not sure what.

Genre: fluff, angst, older!Eddie

Warnings: mention of depression/intrusive thoughts

A/N: I'm getting married in 2 weeks (fucking yikes), so I wrote something based on my fiancé's actual proposal to take my mind off of planning shit for two fucking seconds.

“Have you heard about the theory that Van Gogh didn’t actually kill himself?” You chime, looking over the museum map, eagerly tracing an invisible tour path through the winding galleries.

“You’ve only told me about it a million times over the past seven years,” Eddie chuckles as he stares down the entranceway of the Museum of Modern Art. The two of you look incredibly out of place; stark white walls, juxtaposed with tattoos and leather. The soft squeak of your Docs reverberate through the winding hallway, adding to the anxiety that’s been building since stepping foot in New York City two days ago. Something was off with Eddie, but you couldn’t put a finger on it. It started at the airport, he had stopped talking after getting to the gate; chalking it up to nerves about flying, you ignored it. The first day in the city was the same, barely any conversation unless you initiated it, and even less physical affection on his part. Maybe he was still tired from the trip, or maybe he just hated the city? A third reason rears its ugly head and starts to burrow deep inside your conscious; maybe he was getting tired of you. After seven years of being together, of cohabitating in a small apartment outside of Hawkins, of two cats and a dog later, maybe the love of your life was pushing away.

A hand on the small of your back snaps your attention back to the map. The 1880-1940’s collection is on the 5th floor, allowing you to traverse through the rest of the museum before seeing the one piece this entire trip was centered around.

———

New York City was actually Eddie’s idea, though it doesn’t seem so from his current disconnected behavior. A few months prior he had bounded into the living room, smiling like he had just won the lottery.

“Baby,” he sang in his best, most innocent voice, “how would you feel about going to New York City in July?”

Your head slowly rose from the book you were buried in. His particular tone was usually only reserved for when he was already in trouble, or plotting something mischievous.

“What’s your angle, Munson?” Shifting forward on the couch, your eyes narrow in suspicion.

Hand over heart, he looks at you with faux offense, “How dare you think so little of me. I just think we should do something cool for our anniversary this year.”

All your wariness fades to glowing endearment.

“Oh Eds, that’d be amazing! Of course I’d love to go to New York!”

His face relaxes as he huffs out a relieved breath, “Oh thank god, ‘cause I already bought plane tickets—“

You smile at him, impressed that he had actually planned something ahead of time instead of waiting until the last minute like usual. You’ve been together almost 7 years, and as time went on celebrating your anniversary became less and less theatrical, now consisting of take-out from your favorite Chinese place and a movie of unanimous choosing. Low-key, comfortable, but still full of love, just like you and Eddie.

“—and I also reserved two tickets for the Museum of Modern Art.”

Your eyes almost pop out of your head, “That’s where—“

“—Starry Night is. I know, that’s why I’m taking you there.” He flops down onto the couch, throwing a casual arm around your shoulders as you melt into him.

For your entire life, or at least as long as you can remember, Van Gogh has been your favorite artist. Doing master-copies of his paintings in high school, trying to hard to get his technique just right, obsessing over his use of color to convey emotion. In college you majored in Art History, specializing in Post-Impressionism, spending long nights pouring over books about Vincent’s life and background. As much as you love his work, his story made him that much more intriguing. How a man struggled with such a tragic life and still managed to see the beauty in the world was nothing less than astounding.

You’ve seen a few of Van Gogh’s pieces in person at museums in the tri-state area, but you haven’t traveled much further. Money’s been tight ever since you and Eddie moved in together a few years ago, but you’ve always had the bug, itching to go far away and see the world with all it has to offer. Eddie shares the same desire, always talking about dream trips and planning fake vacations, waiting for the day you can make them a reality.

“Eddie, where did you get the money for this?” The thought of possibly spending rent money on plane tickets makes you panic, but he’s is quick to shrug it away.

“I picked up some extra shifts at the shop, we’re fine don’t worry.”

———

Eddie is usually very physically affectionate, constantly having a hold somewhere on your body; but through 4 floors of galleries he hasn’t so much as touched your hand. The lack of contact is all you can think about, barely able to take in any of the artwork you’ve traveled all this way to see. As you make your way to the 5th floor, Eddie trudges behind silently. The awkward tension is killing you, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.

Turning into the 1880s gallery, a small crowd of people gather around the far corner. A glimpse of familiar cerulean and marigold swirls, the same brushstrokes you’ve studied for years, peaks over the top of their heads. You swiftly push to the front, and all of the air is crushed from your lungs.

It’s other-worldly.

Every photo you’ve ever seen of The Starry Night doesn’t do it justice, not even remotely. The peaks of paint that dot the surface of the canvas, the brightness of each color, none of it can be properly depicted on the pages of a textbook. After so many years of studying this painting, seeing it in the flesh is almost like seeing an old friend. There’s a calmness in it, admiration mixed with giddiness.

You’re close to tears as you feel Eddie’s presence beside you.

“It’s amazing…” his voice is low, partly because of the subdued setting, but also in awe.

All you can muster is a nod as your eyes drag over every inch of the painting, committing it to memory.

You have to practically rip yourself away, buzzing from the entire experience.

Eddie waits by the entranceway with his hands in his front pockets, “Do you wanna go get dinner? I’m starving.”

“Sure,” still unnerved by his demeanor, your tone is stoic and emotionless, “Where do you wanna go?”

He scratches the back of his neck, something only done when he’s uncomfortable, “Uh, there’s this pub across 52nd if that’s cool?”

An audible stomach growl answers for you.

Eddie keeps a few feet of distance between your bodies, weaving through groups of people on the crowded sidewalk. You’ve never seen this many people in your life, even at college in Indianapolis. Growing up in Indiana, your hometown was so small that everyone knew each other, same with Eddie’s upbringing in Hawkins. City life always intrigued you, and up until this moment you had thought of Indianapolis as a “big city”; but it was nothing compared to New York. After high school you moved away to college to study art, choosing Indiana University for its busier atmosphere.

A month after graduating with your BFA, you met Eddie by accident. Moving back home to live with your parents was the last thing you wanted, but finding a good paying job was proving to be more difficult than anticipated.

Depression started to sink it’s disgusting claws into your psyche; you felt like a failure.

One night, in a valiant attempt to bring some joy back into your life, your best friend dragged you to a bar in the next town over; the promise of live music and alcohol extremely enticing. Hawkins wasn’t known for much, except for the weird rumors about mysterious disappearances over the years, so you weren’t expecting much from this hole-in-the-wall bar. The Hideout was kind of gross, but in an almost endearing way. The floors were sticky and the air almost unbreathable, but the staff was kind, despite their rough appearances. The bartender chatted the two of you up for while, making jokes and letting you sample whatever beer you wanted to try, all while some metal band played on the rickety stage in the back.

A little before midnight, the band had packed up and the crowd inside thinned out to just regulars and a few drunk stragglers. As you sat at the bar and waited for your friend to get back from the bathroom, a stranger sat next to you and ordered a beer, greeting the bartender like an old friend. After exchanging a few light-hearted jabs, the stranger smiled and looked over at you.

“Cheers—“ he holds out the neck of the bottle towards you.

Taken aback by his boldness, you return a small grin, “Cheers to what?”

He shrugs, sucking his teeth in thought for a second, “To metal? To surviving another gig? I dunno.”

The guitar pick around his neck catches your eye, “Was that your band playing earlier?”

He gives a shy nod, smile stretching wider and accentuating a dimple on his left cheek.

“You guys sounded really good,” You hold out your own bottle towards him.

“I’ll cheers to that,” he taps against yours, a small clink echoing in the almost empty bar.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Y/n. It’s nice to meet you, Eddie.” Normally, you would rather die than talk to a random person at a bar, but there was something about this boy that drew you in. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was how ethereal he looked under the neon bar signs, either way you were captivated.

You stayed at the Hideout longer than intended, long after your friend had decided to go home. Eddie made you laugh with stupid jokes and weird stories, sharing your mutual love of horror movies and fantasy books. You were so enthralled that you hadn’t even noticed it was closing time. Apologizing to the bartender, you asked to use their phone to call a cab. Eddie immediately offered to drive you home, promising he wasn’t a serial killer when you profusely questioned him.

The drive was filled with loud music and scream-singing on both of your parts, Eddie drumming on the steering wheel to the beat as you headbanged beside him. When he pulled up at your parents house, you quickly pulled a pen out of your bag, scribbling your phone number onto his forearm. He winked before driving away, having stayed a few extra minutes to make sure you got inside safely. Every thought for the rest of the night was consumed by Eddie; something was tying you to him, and you wanted to follow that invisible tether all the way to the end.

———

The 52nd Street pub was empty, something that was shocking upon entry, but you were nonetheless a little grateful for it. The quiet was a welcome change from the overwhelming sounds of New York, a small corner of solitude in the center of the city that never sleeps. Welcome almost as much, are the beers that you and Eddie down immediately.

Though he normally cannot stop talking, Eddie is being uncharacteristically mute. You have to practically drag out any bit of conversation, forcing small talk until the food arrives and you can focus on that instead.

After a silent meal, the portly older waiter drops off your check and strikes up a conversation with Eddie about your trip and why you were visiting. Eddie put on his polite voice, smiling and laughing along with man’s questions. This stranger was receiving more from him than you had in days.

The nagging voice in your head struck up again: he’s tired of you.

You stopped paying attention to Eddie’s side-conversation as annoyance consumed you. There was an emerging throb in your head, the physical pain matching the emotional hurt of Eddie’s complete disdain towards you. At this point, all you wanted was to go home.

The sun was setting as you walk out onto the corner of 52nd, and you squint down the street searching for a cab.

“Hey—“ Eddie smiled at you for what seems like the first time all day, “—wanna go to Central Park?” He points down the street, and you can make out the tops of the trees seven blocks away.

You shake your head, “I’m really tired, and my head is killing me. I’d rather just go back to the hotel honestly.”

Eddie’s face falls a little, and you feel slightly guilty, but then remember how uninterested he was all day.

Again, he glances towards the park, “Are you sure? It’s just a few blocks away—“

“No, Eddie. I just want to go back to the room.” Your voice was stern, annoyed that he only now wanted to spend time with you. A yellow cab crested over the next block, and you raise a hand to get the drivers attention.

“I would rather share one lifetime with you—“ Eddie mumbles behind you. Only half listening, you swear he’s grumbling about not being able to go to the park, and it sets off a rage flare.

“—What?” You snap your head around to face him, eyes narrow and angry, bracing yourself for an argument.

He’s standing a few feet away, one hand in his pocket, the other holding up a diamond ring. Your lungs constrict, an audible gasp escaping as you stare at him wide-eyed. He grins sheepishly as you freeze in place.

“Eddie…what?”

“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone,” He repeats, returning your stare with his soft brown eyes.

“…are you seriously quoting Lord of the Rings to me right now?” You laugh, all tension leaving your body.

“Did you expect anything less from me?” His deep eyes search yours, silencing the menacing voice in your head, “Marry me, Y/n. I love you more than anything—“

“—more than Gollum loves his precious?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and snorts, “Obviously, you fucking nerd.”

Scoffing dramatically, you smile and take the ring from his outstretched hand, sliding it onto your finger.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Eddie Munson. I thought you’d never ask.”

Finally, after days of anxiety and frustration, he kisses you, smiling the entire time. You can almost physically feel the stress leave his body as you hold onto him.

Pulling back you grab his hand, interlocking your fingers, “Is this why you’ve been acting weird?”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I was super nervous. I honestly planned on doing it in front of The Starry Night, but I freaked out when I saw how many people were around.”

Your heart soars at the sentiment, and you look down at your hand in his, the little diamond sparkling in the fading sunlight.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson edit #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfic #eddie x y/n #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson au #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem! reader #older!eddie #Eddie Munson angst

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bingbongsupremacy · 11 months

Text

How To Kiss Pt. 2

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Warnings: Drug Use

Summary: While at a party, you run into the girl who was once your best friend.

Also Joel works at an Auto Shop in this.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist

*****

I'd heard the rumors. Joel and Ellie were moving back. They bought Mr. Hoagans' old auto shop. Sarah had passed and they needed to get out of the city.

But those were rumors. Rumors aren't true.

Most of the time.

They started back in July and for the most part, died down.

" Here put this on. " Dina shoves a silky top in my direction.

" Fuck no. I'm already going to Ian's stupid party. I don't want to ruin a good shirt with booze or god knows what. " I refuse.

" You'll look hot. " Dina protests. " And I promise it won't get ruined. "

I let out a frustrated groan, flopping back onto my bed. Dina's been pressuring me into going to this party for weeks. " Fuck, fine. I'm not wearing fucking heels though. " I warn.

Dina grins. " Don't worry, I wouldn't torture you that much. "

By the time we finish getting ready, we're half an hour late to the party. Majority of the street is filled with the cars of people attention the party. Drunk college students filter in and out of the building.

Dina squeezes my shoulder in excitement. " I'm gonna go find Jesse. get me a drink, will ya? " She leaves before I have room to protest.

Great.

I squeeze my way through the hallway towards the kitchen. I grab a couple cans of beer and wait for Dina.

Twenty minutes later Dina's still no where to be found.

She fucking forgot me.

I contemplate leaving, quickly realizing Dina drove here. Fuck.

I make my way to the porch. I need some air. This is going to be a long night.

I open the sliding glass door, a cool breeze quickly brushing against me. I let out a deep breath. I shouldn't have come here tonight. What did I think was going to happen? I haven't been to one of these in years? I don't know anyone here besides Dina and Jesse.

" I thought I saw you. " A voice says from my left.

I jump, startled by the sudden noise.

The moon shines on the person just enough for me to see their face. Ellie.

" Ellie? "

" Y/N. "

A slightly uncomfortable feeling runs up my body. What the fuck am I supposed to say to her? Hi? How are you? How was fucking Boston?

" You haven't changed a bit. " Ellie's eyes wander up my figure. Her hand moves to her mouth and I notice the familiar shape of a joint.

" Wish I could say the same. " I mutter while eyeing her arm tattoo.

Ellie lets out a small chuckle. " Yeah. I guess I have changed a bit. " Ellie shifts out of shadows and further into the moonlight.

She's wearing a white tank top and her signature flannel. The cuffs of her flannel shirt are folded up, exposing her tattoo and some of her muscles.

Her face is much more defined than a few years ago.

She holds out the joint.

I carefully accept it. Tonight can't get any more fucked, right? Maybe this'll help.

We stand silently, passing the joint back and forth.

A sense of nostalgia floods my memories. The first time we discovered weed, I'd stolen a joint from my older sister. We'd snuck out of Joel's house in the middle of the night to smoke in the back yard. Neither of us had ever smoked before and immediately ended up choking on the smoke.

Eventually we got the hang of it. Somehow Ellie always managed to snag some weed from god knows where. It became part of our ritual on Fridays. At 12-1 we'd sneak out of the house to smoke. We never got caught.

Usually there was a lot more talking involved.

Should I ask Ellie about what happened between us? About why she stopped calling?

Deciding against it, I just stand back and enjoy the moment.

" I missed you. " I whisper quietly.

Ellie's quiet for a moment. I almost wonder if she didn't hear me.

" I missed you too. " She replies quietly.

I glance over at her. Her eyes are trained straight ahead on the trees as she takes another drag.

Maybe I should ask her?

Before I get the opportunity, the door opens. A group of rowdy boys squeezes their way through us.

I look up, preparing to talk to Ellie again when I notice she's gone. I glance inside the kitchen to see her making her way through the hallway, abandoning me once again.

#fanfiction #fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader

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toasttt11 · 3 months

Text

the truth

July 31, 2017

Sidney was brought into a meeting with the Penguins to talk about their upcoming season and players they need to keep an eye on in the lower levels, rookies from the training camp this summer, possible trades.

Sidney was listening and talking through out the meeting but in the back of his mind he wondered why August wasn’t brought up yet for the next season especially with how well she played last year and in her rookie season.

“Any questions?” The head manger looked around the conference room filled with the team at the end of the meeting.

“Yeah.” Sidney cleared his throat, “Where is August?” Sidney didn’t hear her name once, he saw the look traded between his coach and the GM.

“You should talk to August about this.” Mike Sullivan told his player, knowing that August did not want her brother knowing about her trade until it was finalized so he couldn’t talk her out of it and when it was finalized the Penguins were getting close to playoffs and she didn’t want to distract him.

Sidney was unsettled as he walked out for he meeting and got into car driving straight to August’s apartment, he skipped multiple steps using the staircase up to her apartment before quickly knocking on the door.

August looked up from the cake she was decorating and grabbed a hand towel wiping her hands as she headed to the front door. “Hey Sid?” August smiled slightly in surprise not supposed to be seeing her brother today.

“Where are you playing this season?” Sidney demanded at his little sister, he watched as her eyes widen and she swallowed nervously and turned around leaving the door opening and walking back to the kitchen.

“I got an offer.” August spoke out into the silence of her kitchen looking at her cake and not her brother.

“For what.” Sidney questioned stoically.

“To the Knights.” August spoke quietly, still not looking at her brother.

“You traded.” Sidney realized in disbelief and now knew why she visited Vegas a few weeks ago.

“I did.” August nodded looking up nervously at her brother.

“Why?” Sidney softly questioned having loved playing with his sister and did not want to stop playing on the same team as her, he dreamed of the days she would join the NHL and was ecstatic when she joined the Penguins.

“Everything i’ve worked for, every accomplishment i’ve made is questioned because i’m your sister and being drafted to the same team as you was great but i don’t want to be know as your sister or the player who is only good because they are on their brothers team, i want to make my own name and my own mark in this league and i can not do that if i am on the penguins.” August desperately spoke looking up at her brother with tears lined in her eyes.

For years she dealt with the comments because she is related to Sidney Crosby but she didn’t know how bad her rookie year would be. Everything she did during her rookie year was compared to Sidney, she had multiple interviews where they bluntly asked her how much Sidney payed for her to get drafted and to go to the penguins, it didn’t matter how well she played and how amazing she was in the playoffs all anyone ever saw was the little sister of Sidney Crosby.

“Oh Auggie.” Sidney felt his heart break seeing how upset his little sister was and realized how long she has been keeping this in, he didn’t hesitate a second and hurried across the kitchen and swept across the kitchen pulling his little sister in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry.” August choked out between her tears holding onto her brother tightly.

“No i’m sorry.” Sidney felt tears in his eyes, as his eighteen year old sister has been feeling like this for so long and mostly because of him.

“I just want to make my own name.” August whispered calming down slightly in the protective arms of her big brother.

“You already have, but you gonna keep making it bigger and i have no doubt you’re gonna do incredible things in this league and Vegas will be very lucky to have you little sister.” Sidney pulled back and looked at his sister as he spoke and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“Thank you.” August wiped her tears and gave her brother a smile having been worried he would be angry about the news.

“Always.” Sidney promised.

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campingwiththecharmings · 1 year

Text

Never Have I Ever

AN: I started writing this back in July when I was having issues on another fic and I never finished it because I couldn't really figure out where it was going. I'm not 100% happy with it, ngl, but I really enjoyed writing the dialogue so I decided I'm posting it anyway lol. Hope someone else enjoys this! (Also, this is based on this prompt: "Had a sex dream about a close friend." I cannot seem to locate the post for it though, my apologies.)

(Un-beta'd)

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you grab one of the shots in front of you and down it, coughing a little as the alcohol burns down your throat. As you set the glass back on the table, you slowly meet your best friend’s gaze. He stares at you with slightly narrowed eyes, his lips parted as he absently tongues the inside of his cheek. “You’re messing with me.”

Rated: T Words: 4,567 (bruh) Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Warnings: alcohol use, mild cursing, kissing, friends to lovers, possibly terrible writing. AO3

——————

You throw back a shot with a grimace and glance over at Poe who sits across the table, smirking at you over his own line of glasses.

“My turn again,” he says, his giddiness practically rolling off him in waves.

The cantina is busy tonight; Resistance personnel from a myriad of departments are taking the opportunity to unwind after a particularly grueling week. It’s loud, everyone practically screaming to be heard over the Corellian music playing from the jukebox by the bar.

You grumble and slump against the back of the booth you and Poe have chosen in the corner of the room. “This isn’t a fair game, Poe, you already know all of my secrets and now you’re using them against me.”

He chuckles and raises an eyebrow at you. “Yeah, and you know mine. So what’s the issue?”

“The issue,” you retort, glaring at him, “is you’re trying to get me drunk off my ass.”

He shrugs and laughs again, suddenly looking a little unsure. “Well, yeah, I kind of thought that was the point?”

“Then let me have a turn. I’m not getting drunk alone, that wasn’t the deal.”

Poe sighs dramatically and leans toward you a bit before whispering, “But it’s still my turn.”

You roll your eyes and sigh in resignation, motioning for him to get on with it.

He smiles and sits back against the back of his booth. He squints at you for a moment as if studying you and you send another glare his way.

“Alright, how about this one: Never have I ever had a sex dream about a friend.”

Your stomach drops as you return your gaze to his. He winks at you like he’s done you a favor and grabs one of the shots in front of him. He downs it in seconds, grimacing as he sets the glass back onto the table.

“Kriff, is that stuff terrible.”

You wait a beat, unsure whether you should take a drink. If you don’t, it’d be a lie but he’d never know…

But he’s your best friend, one of the most important people in your life and, despite everything, he’s always been there for you. So you had a sex dream about him? So what? It was a billion years ago and it was one time…

He stares at you with slightly narrowed eyes, his lips parted as he absently tongues the inside of his cheek. “You’re messing with me.”

You bite your bottom lip and avert your gaze, suddenly very interested in the graffiti on the wall beside you.

…So interested that you don’t see or hear Poe get up from his side of the booth and move to yours.

He all but falls into the booth beside you, making you jump. Your attention snaps back to him as he scoots closer to you, pushing you a little further into the booth.

“Alright,” he says, leaning in conspiratorially, “now you can give me all the details.”

You snort a laugh and tilt your head to give him an incredulous look. “Maybe you’re drunker than I thought.”

“C’mon,” he says, a little defensively, “you know I won’t tell and it’s not like anyone can hear us back here.”

He’s looking at you like he can figure out what he wants to know if he stares at you long enough (or maybe just stares at you until you cave and tell him what he wants to know), but you only smile and raise your eyebrows in challenge.

After a minute of this, he realizes you aren’t budging and tries a new tactic.

“Alright, how about this,” he begins, pulling his leg up to rest on the bench so he’s facing you, “I guess, and if I guess right, you have to tell me.”

You chew on your lip, considering his proposal. “Okay fine, BUT, you get three guesses, and three guesses only, and if you don’t guess right, we never talk about this ever again.”

He beams and sticks his pinky out toward you. “Deal.”

You chuckle and clasp his pinky with yours.

He laughs and sits back a bit, rubbing his hands together in delight as he considers his first guess.

“Okay,” he says, clearing his throat, “Snap?”

You scoff and shake your head, sipping at your glass of water. He frowns, considering his next guess more carefully.

“Wedge?” he says after a moment, eyebrow raising suggestively.

You laugh, spitting out some of the water you were in the process of swallowing.

Poe snorts and hands you a napkin. “Guess that’s a no.”

You shake your head again as you wipe the water from your chin.

“No it is Wedge or no it isn’t?”

You glare at him half-heartedly and crumple the napkin into a ball. “I will punch that pretty face of yours, Dameron.”

You throw the crumpled napkin at him and he chuckles as it bounces off his nose and lands on the bench between you.

“One guess left,” you taunt, raising a brow at him.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, biting his lip in consideration. “I’m honestly drawing a blank.”

“Come on,” you chuckle, “Just guess. You wanted to do this, Poe…”

“I know, I know…Alright fine, uh, I’ll just guess…me. There. We’re done, you win, we never have to talk about this ever again. Congrats.”

Your smile drops instantly at his words, face burning with embarrassment.

He guessed himself. Of course he guessed himself.

You honestly should’ve seen this coming. Why did you agree to this? Now you’re gonna have to tell him and he’s going to tease you about it for the rest of your life—

Kriff.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you register that he’s talking to you, though about what you have no idea. It takes him a moment to realize you’re not listening to him and he gazes at you with concern.

“Hey, is there a reason you’re flushed all of a sudden? Are you sick?” he asks, putting a hand to your forehead.

You jerk suddenly at the press of his hand, the coolness bringing you back to reality.

“Whoa, you okay? Maker, please don’t throw up on me,” he jokes, his eyes tinged with both amusement and concern.

You nod rapidly and briefly meet his eyes as you scoot as far away from him as you can get, pressing your back to the wall beside the booth. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

His concern slowly morphs into suspicion as he takes note of your movement. “Why’d you move back? I smell bad or something?”

“Yeah, you smell like a herd of wild bantha,” you deadpan, wrinkling your nose at him.

(He actually smells pretty great, he always does, but you’re not about to tell him that.)

“Oh come on, I do not,” he scoffs, making a show of smelling himself. “If you really thought that, you would’ve said something ages ago.”

“Maybe I just didn’t realize how bad it was until you decided to invade my personal space.”

He shakes his head, suspicion returning. “Nah, that’s not it. It’s something else.”

You press your back against the wall behind you, doing your best to maintain eye contact with him as he stares at you again but, despite your efforts, you look away first.

“Come on, just talk to me.”

The pleading in his voice makes your heart ache just a little, but you ignore the feeling and cross your arms over your chest, looking anywhere but directly at him, hoping that he’ll just give up and move on.

But he doesn’t, because that’s just not what Poe Dameron does. And, honestly, it’s not what you do either.

Heaving a sigh, you reluctantly meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm and soft, just like always, and you think you feel something in your chest crack because of it (whether it’s your heart or the cage you put around it, you’re not sure).

“Your last guess. It…wasn’t wrong.”

It takes him a moment to figure out what you mean, but you see it in his eyes the second he does.

“You…had a sex dream about me?” he asks blankly, still processing this information.

You cringe and bite your lip, nodding.

He’s silent for a moment, still apparently thinking (kriff, maybe he really was drunker than you’d thought).

Another moment and he’s meeting your gaze again, mirth back in his eyes and a teasing smile on his lips. “You had a sex dream about me?”

Mildly relieved, you roll your eyes and scoff at him.

“Well, I can’t really say that I blame you, I mean, I am pretty irresistible.”

You snort, shaking your head at him. “You’re so modest.”

“It’s ‘cause I’m so hot, isn’t it?” he continues, his voice lowering an octave as he slides closer and cages you against the wall of the booth with his body, his leg pressing against yours.

Suddenly a little nervous, you huff a laugh and put a hand on his chest to stop him from ending up in your lap, trying to ignore the solid warmth you can feel through his shirt. “Actually, and I cannot stress this enough, I find you utterly repulsive.”

He pretends to consider your words for a moment before shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. You did just call me pretty a few minutes ago. Plus, you’re always going on about how soft my hair is and how nice my eyes are and how my jaw could cut transparisteel–”

“I have definitely never said any of those things, most especially that last one,” you counter, eyebrows raised in mock indignation.

“Well,” he says nonchalantly, shrugging as he averts his eyes to pick at a loose thread on his jacket. “There must be something you like if you’re having sexy dreams about me every night.”

You scoff, embarrassed again, and push his shoulder. “Uh, it was one time, thank you. And no, there’s absolutely nothing I like about you. I actually hate you and I’ve just never had the heart to tell you the truth.”

He hums knowingly, a small smile on his lips as he meets your eyes once more. “Guess what, Sunshine? It’s my turn again.”

You groan, slumping against the wall at your back. “Come on, when do I get to go?”

“When you don’t take a shot, that’s when.”

“And yet you take one almost every other time you make me take one. How does that work?”

He waves your argument off, shaking his head. “I’m the one asking, it doesn’t count.”

You scoff, twisting your lips in irritation before suddenly narrowing your gaze. “You took a shot on that last one, too.”

He shrugs, chuckling as he raises an eyebrow at you. “And?”

A smile starts to spread across your lips. “That means you’ve had a sex dream about one of your friends too.”

He tenses almost imperceptibly but you’re watching him so closely you notice. He shrugs again, some of the humor leaving his eyes. “So?”

“So,” you respond, dragging out the ‘o’ as you lean into his personal space, his face inches from yours. “Who is it?”

He swallows, studying you quietly with something unreadable in his eyes. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

You continue to silently stare at each other for another moment, realizing too late how close you actually are. Chewing your lip absently, your stomach flips when you see his gaze briefly drop to your mouth.

In an effort to create some much-needed distance, you slump a little in your seat and pout at him, employing your best puppy eyes. “But I told you mine.”

The strange moment passes as he bites back a smile and pats the top of your head tauntingly. “Aw, you’re adorable. Want me to scratch behind your ears, Sweetheart?”

You bat his hand away with a half-hearted glare and he chuckles.

“Hey, guys.”

The familiar voice makes the two of you turn toward the end of the table where you see Jess and Connix.

“Hey, I thought you two were on the night shift?” Poe asks, smiling warmly at them.

“Got off early. Well, I did,” Connix says before gesturing to Jess, “She’s still on-call.”

You nod, turning yourself back toward the table to face your friends as Poe does the same. He doesn’t move back over though, so when he settles on the bench, his arm and thigh are pressed against yours.

He never did have any concept of personal space.

“So, what are you two playing?” Jess asks, sliding into the booth across the table and gesturing the line of shots.

“Never Have I Ever,” Poe says, shooting you a mischievous look, “I’m getting all the deep, dark secrets out of this one.”

You roll your eyes affectionately and snort, trying to ignore how warm he is beside you. “Right, because you didn’t already know about that time I threw up on General Ematt.”

Jess chuckles, grabbing one of the shots as Connix slides into the booth beside her.

“Hey, come on, Pava, those aren’t for spectators,” Poe scolds, making a face as he tries (unsuccessfully) to grab the glass from her. “Besides, you shouldn’t be drinking anyway if you’re on-call.”

She shrugs idly, setting the empty glass back down onto the table top. “It takes a helluva lot more than one shot to compromise me, Dameron.”

“Okay fine, but no more. I’m cutting you off,” he concedes, his hand making a slashing motion through the air.

She chuckles, pouring water from the pitcher into her empty shot glass. “Yes, sir, Commander.”

“What about you, Connix? You want in on the game?” you ask, resting your elbows on the table.

“Sure, why not?” she says with a shrug, “Who’s turn is it?”

“Technically it’s his,” you complain, scowling at Poe. “But I’m sure he’d happily forfeit it if one of you wants to have a go.”

He frowns, raising an eyebrow at you, before gesturing with his hands. “By all means.”

“I’ve got one,” Jess says, shooting a knowing look at the man beside you, “Never have I ever gone commando beneath my flight suit.”

You snort, biting your lip to stifle a giggle as Poe scowls in Jess’s direction.

“Are you ever gonna stop bringing that up, Pava? It was one time,” he complains, downing a shot.

“Nope. I still have nightmares about seeing your naked ass.” Jess jokes, smirking at him from across the table.

He rolls his eyes, ignoring Connix’s laughter as he sets the glass back down on the table. “Please. If it was such a traumatic experience for you, you wouldn’t constantly bring it up.”

Jess heaves an exaggerated sigh, resting her chin in her hand. “I will know no peace until all have suffered as I did that day.”

You snort again and Poe raises an unamused eyebrow at you before turning back to Jess. “Can we move on, please?”

“Sure, Dameron. Sure.”

The game continues for several more rounds, and everyone gets the chance to ask questions, including you. The longer you play, the more buzzed you become. You’re warm and your head feels fuzzy. Suddenly tired, you let your head fall to Poe’s shoulder, snuggling into the soft leather of his jacket.

When you close your eyes (just for a second), you hear someone at the table chuckle (Jess, you think). “Uh oh, looks like we’re losing this one.”

You feel Poe shift slightly as he (presumably) moves to look at you and you whine in protest, burrowing further into his side.

“Looks like it,” you hear Poe say, his voice slightly muffled with your ear pressed against him. “Come on, Sunshine. Time to go.”

You make it back to your room without any issues (save for your repeated attempts to fall asleep on his shoulder while upright and moving). Poe gets you inside and sits you down on the side of your bed.

“Stay.”

You frown and roll your eyes petulantly. “I’m not a Massiff, Dameron.”

“I know,” he says, disappearing briefly into your fresher and reappearing with a glass of water in his hand. “Massiffs are much better listeners.”

You scoff, gesturing rudely at him and making him laugh.

“Drink this,” he says, pressing the glass of water into your hand.

“So bossy,” you grumble, taking a few sips.

“Yeah well, they don’t call me ‘Commander’ for nothing.”

You snort a laugh (because everything is funny to you when you’re like this). “Well, Commander, thanks for flying me home safely.”

He smiles at you and takes your glass, setting it on the table beside your bed. “Anytime, Sunshine. Now, time for bed.”

“Yes, Sir, Captain Tightpants. No, wait—Commander Tightpants.”

He shakes his head as he kneels to help you untie your boots. “You leave my pants out of this.”

You hold onto his shoulder as he tugs your boots off, setting them side-by-side near the foot of your bed.

“You okay to sleep in that?” he asks, gesturing to the shirt and pair of cargo pants you’d worn to the cantina.

You look down at yourself, then back at him, and shrug.

"Okay," he chuckles, ruffling your hair. "Need anything before I go? A snack? Another blanket, maybe?”

Your face falls at his words and you grab onto his jacket as he goes to stand. “What? No, you can’t leave.”

“It’s late and we both need to sleep,” he says matter-of-factly, trying to reason with you despite your current state. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You could sleep here, you know. Help make my dream a reality,” you say, waggling your eyebrows and jokingly running a hand down his arm.

“I’m not so sure I can live up to dream me,” he chuckles, patting your hand.

“How will you know for sure if you never try?” you ask softly, looking at him from beneath your lashes.

His humor fades slowly as he studies you, and Maker, he’s so close and warm and smells so good and suddenly you wonder if he tastes as good as he smells…

You sigh at the thought, swaying forward a little, your eyes falling to his lips—

Something stops your forward trajectory and you look down, confused, before you realize it’s just Poe’s hand on your shoulder.

“Uh uh,” he says softly.

“Why not?” you whine, pouting dramatically.

“You’re drunk, Sweetheart,” he responds, some of the humor returning to his eyes.

“Only a little bit.”

He chuckles. “I’m not kissing you when you’re drunk.”

“So you’d kiss me if I wasn’t?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“That’s not a ‘no.’”

He snorts, shaking his head. “You’re a pain, you know that?”

You smile sleepily, gaze half-lidded. “Yeah, but you love me.”

His smile is fond as he gazes at you, that unreadable something from earlier back in his eyes.

“Okay, enough,” he says after a moment, his voice somehow both soft and firm. “Sleep.”

“Only if you stay,” you argue, stubborn as always.

He hesitates, gazing at you with searching eyes before heaving a resigned sigh.

“Fine. Move over, Sunshine.”

You do as instructed, grumbling about him being bossy again under your breath. He chuckles, toeing off his boots and settling himself onto your small bed. You press yourself into his side immediately, your head finding a place on his shoulder. A contented sigh escapes you as his warmth seeps into you, his familiar scent lulling you into blissful unconsciousness.

—

You whine a little when you wake; your head is pounding, mouth as dry as the sands of Tatooine. At the noise, something constricts around your middle and you freeze, opening your eyes in panic and immediately flinching at the light streaming in through the small windows. You squint as your eyes adjust, briefly taking in the space around you before turning your attention to the person-shaped mass beside (and sort of beneath) you.

Poe.

You sigh in relief, sniffing a laugh at yourself as you study him from your spot on his shoulder. He looks peaceful, at ease, more so than you’ve seen in ages. The crease between his brows is gone, his mouth is a little slack, and it occurs to you suddenly that, despite the jokes and the teasing, he really is beautiful.

A face sculpted by the gods, you think wistfully, resisting the urge to trace his jaw with your fingers.

His eyelids twitch as you gaze at him, shaking you from your reverie.

You flush, a little embarrassed by your thoughts as you turn away, looking instead for a way to escape his hold without waking him. His legs are tangled up with yours and the arm around your middle has you pressed flush against his left side.

You’re not sure why you’re feeling so nervous about this, about waking up with Poe. It’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened, you can think of at least three other instances off the top of your head.

So why does this time feel so different?

Your memories of last night are a little hazy, but you’re convinced something happened. You wrack your brain, willing it to conjure any memory from the night before that could shed some light on what you’re feeling but…there’s nothing.

Deciding that there’s not really much you can do about it before he wakes, you resign yourself to your current fate (and maybe let yourself enjoy the moment a little more than you probably should).

Less than an hour later, he stirs, stretching a little as you sit up enough to meet his eyes.

“Morning,” he rasps, smiling lazily at you with half-lidded eyes.

“Hey,” you respond, a shy smile on your lips.

He narrows his gaze at your tone, raising a questioning eyebrow at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say, a little too quickly.

His gaze searches yours a moment longer, and you’re sure he knows, knows something is off, that something is different.

But instead he seems to brush it off, an amused smile forming on his lips as he lifts a hand to gesture at your face. “You’ve got—”

“What?” you ask, your own hand immediately coming up to your face.

“Drool. You’ve got drool,” he says, chuckling as his hand cups your cheek, thumb swiping gently at the corner of your mouth.

Your breath catches at the touch, your gaze briefly flicking from his eyes down to his lips. His smile falters a little at the action and your stomach plummets.

“Thanks,” you croak, forcing a smile to your lips.

He studies you with an unreadable expression, his hand still cupping your cheek.

You should be terrified, should be afraid you’ve ruined the best relationship in your life, but somehow all you can think about is how much you want to kiss him.

Him. Poe. Your best friend.

When did this happen? How could this happen?

“Hey,” he says finally, his soft voice shaking you from your spiraling thoughts, “can I try something?”

He seems strangely nervous. Normally, this would intrigue you, but right now all it’s doing is adding to your own anxiety.

You nod in response, not trusting that your voice won’t give you away.

His throat bobs a little and he shifts, moving as if he’s going to sit up. The hand on your cheek tilts your face up slightly, but you don’t really realize why until his mouth is inches from yours. You inhale sharply in surprise and he halts, eyes meeting yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, his nose bumping against yours as he hovers, waiting. Waiting for you to give him the okay, to tell him this is what you want, that he’s what you want.

You gaze at him, mouth opening and closing wordlessly as you briefly wonder how you got here. But you must wait too long to respond because suddenly there’s an uncertain look in his eyes, and he’s looking away, pulling away—

Without another thought, you reach for him, fisting your hand in his collar and pulling his mouth to yours.

His lips are warm and dry and, at first, they move hesitantly against yours. But then he sighs, pulling you on top of him using the arm still wrapped around your middle. He rolls you over so he’s above you and you gasp against his mouth. He takes advantage of your reaction by slipping his tongue between your lips, the wet slide of his tongue against yours sending a shiver through you. He hums, kissing you harder.

Eventually, the need for oxygen forces you to break apart, much to the dismay of you both. You press your forehead to his as you try to catch your breath, your fingers playing with one of the buttons on his shirt.

“You okay?” he pants, his thumb idly stroking your cheek.

You chuckle, shooting him an incredulous look. “I’d say so.”

His smile makes your stomach flip. “Glad to have another satisfied customer.”

You scoff and he chuckles, looking at you with the same fondness he always has, and you want to ask him how long he’s wanted this, wanted you.

“So, uh, what happens now?” you ask instead, suddenly nervous.

“Well,” he begins, averting his gaze almost shyly. “We should probably go on a date or something.”

You bite back a smile, nodding in agreement. “We could do that.”

He smiles again, a glint in his eyes when he meets yours again. “There’s something you should probably know first though.”

“Oh?” you ask, breath catching as he leans in to press a kiss to the side of your neck.

He hums, pressing another to your jaw, smiling when your throat bobs.

“It was you,” he says softly, kissing the corner of your mouth.

It takes you a moment to register what he said and, when you do, your brow furrows. “What was me?”

He smiles again, lightly kissing your cheek. “In my dream.”

When you realize what he means, you laugh, burying your face in his neck.

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, sure, laugh it up.”

“I’m sorry but,” you giggle, pulling back to meet his eyes again. “You had a sex dream about me.”

He nods, a little heat entering his gaze. “There’ve been a few, actually.”

You flush a little, chewing your bottom lip as your giggles subside somewhat. “Yeah?”

He hums in confirmation, nudging your nose with his as he leans in, mouth hovering over yours again. "We'll have to compare notes sometime."

After a beat, you snort, covering your mouth as you laugh again. "Is that a line, Poe? I feel like that’s a line. Has that one actually worked for you before?"

He scoffs, the tips of his ears turning pink. "You know, you're kind of killing the mood here, Sunshine."

You bite your lip, still chuckling. "Yeah well, someone has to keep you grounded, Flyboy."

He grunts, smiling as he leans in, claiming your lips again in a slow, heated kiss. You sigh in contentment, heart fluttering as you thread your fingers through his curls; this…you could get used to this.

Review (pretty please)?

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fic #poe dameron reader insert #my fic

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imagine-that-100 · 1 year

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Menswear

Description: You’re off to Manchester for your Aunt and Uncle’s wedding and nothing is ever simple when you and Matty are involved. With your history something is always bound to happen, whether that is subtle teasing touches, secret flirting, or something more. And after everything, you can’t carry on ignoring it because your heart’s not immune to his effect and just how happy he makes you.

Word Count: 16.2k

Warnings: Smut (enjoy)

A/N: Hey besties, i’m backkkk. So, if you’ve read @nriacc, you have read this before. I wanted to put this out as it’s own oneshot because I understand not everyone wants to commit to a large fic but I think this part at least deserves to be it’s own thing. I originally released this back in July 2021 and there’s been an oddly similar fic since with very similar characters and with not even a tag it feels like common crisis has been ripped off, so I want to give nriacc that little bit more exposure too because it’s the og. The only context you need going into this is Alex is one of the OC’s best mates, Matty’s nickname for this OC is Wheels (hence why I call her that), and Wheels is Adam’s cousin. Really hope you enjoy if you’ve not read it before or if you’re having a reread. Thanks a million for reading x

| My Masterlist | NRIACC Masterlist |

Whilst unpacking all of his boxes into his new flat, Alex finds a book which he was going to send to you a month ago. It’s the last one he read and annotated before his break-up and move back to the UK but he never got a chance to send it over to you before it was thrown into a box to bring back home. And Alex gets a little emotional at the thought of giving it to you.

Alex debates whether he should even give it to you or not but in the long run he knows he’d regret not gifting it to you. So that was what brought him over to your flat again a few days later despite him knowing that you were going over to Manchester today.

So around noon, Alex heads over to your flat to give you your last book he’d yet to give you. He just hopes you’re still around.

He lets himself into the building as he still had his own keys because after moving out you just told him to keep them. But Alex decided to knock on your door before he let himself in with that set of keys, just so he didn’t scare you.

Just as he knocks, Alex realised that your door is already open as you must have left it on the latch. And just as he starts to push the door open, he hears you call out that, “It’s open!”

He walks in, closing the door behind him, leaving it on the latch for you like you wanted it as he walks down the short hallway into your lounge. He looks around for you as he calls out, “Hey Angel.”

“Al?” You call out from your room confused and you poke your head out seeing the singer standing in your lounge.

“You okay Y/N/N?” Alex says walking towards you to meet you in your doorway.

You meet in the middle and you hug each other as you tell him, “I’m good, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great thanks,” Alex says as he lets you escape from the hug.

You both head into your room then as you ask your best friend, “You know I’m going away today, right?”

“I do, it's why I'm here actually,” Alex tells you as he watches you start to last minute pack stuff into your suitcase.

Alex chuckles to himself. The suitcase is the size of something he would take away with him on tour for months on end, not something you’d take for a week in Manchester.

You raise your eyebrows, curious for him to continue and Alex does, “I came to say bye, but also to give you this.”

Alex holds the novel out to you then and you abandon your case to collect it from him. As you take it, you ask, “What’s this?”

“It was your last in the book club, but I didn't have the chance to send it over and I found it again when I was unpacking,” Alex tells you as you inspect the cover and he sees your smile grow as he tells you about it.

“Thank you so much,” You tell him before you give him another big hug.

Alex smiles as he hugs you back, “You’re welcome, sorry you’re getting it months behind schedule.”

You tell him to not be silly, it’s thoughtful of him to actually give it to you instead of just keeping it to go on his new bookshelves. “I’ll give it a read when I finish the one I’m on now, although I’m reading Stephen King’s IT and it’s fucking huge so it might take me a while.”

Alex chuckles at that as he watches you find a space for it on the end of your bookshelf, “Don't worry, there’s no rush.”

You slot it neatly at the end of the very bottom shelf and just as you’re about to ask Alex another question about it, you hear the door go again. You head back out of your bedroom door and shout, “It’s open” again before leaving your bedroom.

Alex follows you out and you turn back to tell him, “It’ll be Matty.”

And you aren’t wrong because a second later the curly haired brunette wraps his arms around you and has picked you up to spin you around. Alex watches as you giggle in Matty’s arms and your own arms circled around his neck to ensure you don't fall to the ground.

The both of you exchange pleasantries in the hall before you usher him inside, telling him that you just had a few more things to pack before you’re ready to go. Matty assures you that it’s fine before he tells you, “You look good today.”

You’re dressed in blue skinny jeans, your hightops, and a long-sleeved black top that you have tucked into your jeans. You turn around and thank him before you usher Matty into the lounge.

In there you find Alex perching on the back of your loveseat, obviously wanting to be polite and say hello. You smile at Alex as you walk back into the lounge before you tell the both of them, “I’m just gunna pack up a few more things, I won't be long.”

Alex smiles at Matty when he makes eye contact with him and Matty smiles realising that he was here.

“You alright Alex?” Matty asks politely.

Alex nods, “Yeah good mate, how are you?”

“Yeah good thanks... Believe you’ve got a flat in the city now?” Matty asks curiously, filtering information back to him that you’d told him on the phone not so long ago.

“Yeah,” Alex nods, “Just thought I'd come and say bye because I'm headed back over to LA to record the next album in a week and I wouldn’t have a chance to say bye otherwise.”

Something which was true. You did know he was jetting off again and you were pleased that it was because of a new album and not a new tour straight away. At least you’d get him back for Christmas and a few months after that before a tour.

“That’s fair enough,” Matty says before curiously asking, “Got anything written yet?”

Alex nods, “Yeah I've got most of it done, just need to get it recorded with the rest of the lads.”

“That’s good,” Matty smiles and both blokes share a smile then.

At least you weren't the only thing they could bond over.

“Curly,” You pull both lads out of their chat and Matty smiles at you to continue when you come back out of your bedroom door with your suitcase, “Did they want me to bring anything?”

“Other than whatever you're actually wearing to the wedding, I don’t think they care,” Matty grins and you laugh.

Alex chuckles a bit at that too but can’t help himself but say, “Still can’t believe they’re getting married mid October.”

“Same,” You and Matty nod in agreement. You add though, “It’s given out surprisingly good weather for Friday though so we’ll be lucky.”

Matty nods, thinking to himself that he’ll believe it when he sees it.

“What are you wearing anyway?” Alex asks you curiously, “Pant suit?”

You shake your head smiling, but you correct him, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“You’re wearing a dress?” Alex asks you, completely shocked, like he just didn’t hear you properly.

You nod looking at both of the boys who are staring back at you dumbfounded.

“You?” Alex has to check again.

“Yes Alex,” You say, giving him a pointed look.

He just shakes his head at you though, “But Y/N/N, you don't wear dresses.”

You tut, a little offended but Matty defends Alex straight away.

“Don't look like that, he's right,” Matty says, “The last time I saw you in anything near a dress was the skirt you wore at your Eighteenth.” and now you’re 24. It’s been a long while.

You ask a little wide eyed, “Why do you remember that?”

“Fifteen year old me imprinted it into my mind,” Matty grins at you a little suggestively.

You shake your head, trying not to laugh, “I hate you.”

“Love you too,” Matty grins, but then he asks you, “What dress are you wearing?”

You tell him, “A red one to match the bridesmaids, but a short one because I’m not officially a bridesmaid.”

The only bridesmaids were your Mum and your Aunt’s best friend. You were the chosen flower girl which you thought was pretty cute.

“I think, and I'm sure Matty thinks too, that you should go put it on,” Alex suggests trying but failing to hide his grin at the thought of you in a dress.

You shake your head, automatically saying, “Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't want to ruin it before Friday,” You tell your best friend like he’s stupid.

“Oh come on Y/N/N, I’m not going to get to see it and I've not seen you in a dress for years,” Alex tries to guilt trip you.

You counter argue, “You'll see pictures.”

Alex looks at you completely hurt then and pleads, “Oh come on Angel,” But then he uses your friend for back up. “Matty, you wanna see it too, right?”

Without hesitation Matty agrees, nodding, “Yeah.”

“I hate you both,” You say, clearly not impressed.

“We love you too, now go and get changed,” Alex instructs, waving you back off to your room.

You sigh then looking from the shaggy haired boy to the curly haired one, “Have we even got time?”

Matty grins, “All the time in the world if I get to see you in a dress, Wheels.”

You groan in annoyance then and grab the handle of your suitcase knowing you weren’t going to win this. You try one more time though and ask, “Alex, can’t you settle for a picture?”

“No,” He shakes his head and folds his arms.

You pout and whine, “But I don't wanna get changed.”

“We don't always get what we want,” Alex tells you before nodding towards your bedroom door, “Go on.”

“Fine,” You sigh, but then you give both of them a pointed look when you turn back to say, “But I'm leaving the door open so I can still talk to yous, so don't come over here.”

Matty sake scoffs then, saying, “Don't flatter yourself, we don't wanna see you getting undressed.”

“Okay,” You dryly laugh, “I’ll believe that when we start searching for planes in the sea.” You roll your eyes before you venture into your bedroom.

“So your new album…” Matty asks Alex, “What’s this one called?”

“Suck It And See.”

“Ah right,” Matty grins at what that was alluding to, “Sounds fun.”

Alex laughs, “Yeah it’s an innuendo to us but the politically correct answer to why its called that is that its essentially a ‘fuck you, we arent giving you an album cover, you’ve got to listen to it yourself to judge it.’”

“Ah right,” Matty nods in appreciation, “So I’m assuming the album cover is just gunna say Suck It And See?”

“Yeah,” Alex nods, and he proudly tells him about your input. “She’s already made it.”

“Ah,” Matty smiles, “She’s a gooden.”

Alex nods in agreement before letting that subject drop and revert the questions to his music this time.

“Your shows are getting bigger, right? Got a manager and everything now I hear.” Alex smiles.

Matty nods, “Yeah, got quite a lot coming in the venues back home now.”

“That's good mate,” Alex smiles, “Happy for you.”

“Thanks Pal.”

Alex remembers something else that makes him chuckle a bit as he asks Matty, “I believe your name’s changed again?”

Matty sighs but nods. He then asks your best friend, “She been moaning about it?”

“Oh just a little,” Alex smirks, remembering you seething when you got off the phone with Matty a month or two ago about it before proceeding to rant to Alex about it for an hour that night and over the next few days after that.

Matty knew that was a bigger unstatement than the title of his first puppets album. You’d gone berserk on the phone to him one night when Adam had forced him to call you to tell you.

Or you had until you were told the new name.

“What you called now?” Alex asks, not quite remembering.

“The 1975.”

“Oh right,” Alex nods appreciating the randomness of it.

“It’s good, don’t you think?” You shout out to Alex as you try and awkwardly zip your dress up by yourself.

“Strange enough that it’s different, but memorable like the Monkeys,” You shout a second later.

Alex shouts back to you, “Yeah it’s certainly different,” but then he turns back to Matty and at a normal volume he asks him, “Where’d you come up with that one?”

“Oh I was going on holiday with my family after Christmas and I went to a charity shop to try and find a book to take. I saw a copy of my favourite book in there and opened it up and I saw that someone had dated the book June first the 1975. Sort of fell in love with it,” Matty explains.

You shout out to him, “Well as long as you don’t change it again, I’ll be in love with it, too.”

“Oh don’t worry it’s not changing now,” Matty shouts back but he looks at Alex when he says it.

Matty pulls his sleeve up and shows Alex his forearm that had the year 1975 tattooed onto it.

“Well I really hope you don’t change your mind now,” Alex chuckles.

Matty chuckles a little too but shakes his head, “No I won’t. Can’t. Got the tattoo so I wouldn’t be able to.”

“You got it tattooed?” You gasp quickly, slipping your last heel on and doing the small buckle.

Matty shouts back, “Yeah.”

“What, where?” You ask as you leave your bedroom.

When you walk out into your lounge though, both men feel their whole body freeze. The only thing they can do is move their eyes to try and take in all of your beauty.

You’re in your dress that was a beautiful shade of blood red. It has spaghetti straps meaning that you’re braless, but that’s okay because the material is thick enough to make sure you’re kept reserved enough for a wedding.

The red dress also had a V neck line meaning that you also got to show off a healthy amount of cleavage. The dress then pinches in at your waist before the skirt comes out a bit and flows down to your mid thigh.

You feel really pretty wearing it and you love the red heels that you have on to match. But the dress isn’t of your concern right now.

You’d walked out of your room to see Matty's tattoo. You walk towards both of the lads and take a hold of Matty’s arm to inspect the new tattoo.

It’s nice. It resides under his Mortal Kombat tattoo and it’s there for anyone and everyone to see.

You like the font that it’s in and the fact it’s a little uneven. But knowing Matty, that would have been how he wanted it.

But you’re staring at his tattoo whilst he and Alex are staring at you.

“I like it, it’s very you,” You smile at him.

But Matty’s just blankly staring at you. He looks as if he’s had a massive shock to his system.

Alex is the first one to actually come out of the silence that had fallen amongst them. He clears his throat before saying in a soft voice, his eyes still taking all your beauty in, “You look stunning, Angel.”

The compliment seems to take Matty out of his daze too and he compliments, “He’s right, you really do, Sweetheart.”

“Oh,” You smile between them, “Thank you.”

You do a little spin then feeling the need to and both boys get a look at your box tattoo on your shoulder blade as your long hair moves from it as you spin. You smile at the both of them when you settle back in your spot to stand normally again, and you say, “Couldn’t really turn up to my Aunt’s wedding looking like a slob, could I?”

“I mean I lived with you for two months and I never thought you were a slob,” Alex says which makes you laugh and you engage them both in conversation for a few minutes.

You’re all laughing and joking but both men can’t take their eyes off of you, your natural beauty just shines through as you’re wearing this stunning dress. And both men silently agree to themselves that your natural long hair pulls even more attention towards you.

Matty was certain he’d be fighting people away from you on Friday.

You just look so fucking stunning it’s unreal.

So much so that Alex can’t let you get changed without getting a picture of you as you are. As you’re about to head back to your bedroom to change, Alex moves himself across the lounge to your shelf and picks up your polaroid camera and quickly flicks it on.

And before you make it near your bedroom Alex manages to get you to turn back around as he’s able to tell you a shit joke to make you laugh. And as soon as he hears the amazing sound that is your laughter, he quickly snaps the picture.

“Alex,” You scorn him, not being ready for a picture at all.

Alex half heartedly apologises, “Sorry, but you need to remember how pretty you look.”

“I’m going to have pictures done at the wedding,” You tell him.

Alex shrugs not really caring as he starts wafting the polaroid of you before leaving it on the side to develop, “Yeah well one now won’t hurt.”

“Go on,” Matty nods at Alex towards you, “Get in one with her.”

“You not want one?” Alex offers first.

“I’ll get plenty on Friday,” Matty smiles before taking the camera off Alex.

Alex shreds off his leather jacket to reveal a black button up which goes nicely with his blue jeans. You tell him that he looks nice as he stands beside you and he smiles a thank you at you before his arm goes around your waist so the both of you can smile for the picture.

Matty takes that one and when Alex claims it as his own you make him get in another one with you. You end up doing a sillier one this time where you’re both smiling but you’ve both thrown the peace signs up too.

Matty chuckles as he takes it and as soon as it's popped out, he takes it and goes to inspect the other ones on the side that should already be developed. As he does that though you head back to your room, but in your doorway you quickly get Alex’s attention again and get him to unzip your dress.

His breath catches in his throat when he sees your bare skin come into his view, but when the zip stops at the small of your back Alex composes himself when you turn back around towards him to thank him. He gives you another smile and quietly tells you once again that you're beautiful in a way that always makes your heart beat faster.

You smile gratefully at him before you retreat to change once more. You let the two men chat amongst themselves as you elect to change into your comfy clothes this time.

Once ready, you step back into the room with your white dress bag over your shoulder and your suitcase in your other hand. You decided that you wanted to pack the clothes you wanted to wear earlier.

You’re just in your joggers and an old hoodie now.

“You baffle me,” Alex says when he looks at you and Matty is thinking the exact same thing.

You look at them both confused as you stop walking just in front of them. Matty decides to inform you what they’re both thinking.

“How can you still be just as pretty when you change into that?” Matty asks and he sees you go all shy on him which makes him grin.

And if you’re reacting like that to him, Matty knows exactly what that means.

So instantly Matty knows that seeing you dressed like you just were all day was going to be difficult.

Friday was going to be a very long day for him, probably a very hard one too.

~*~*~*~

The week you were back in Manchester you felt like you didn’t get any time with your cousin or his friends. Your Mum and your Aunt were preoccupying you all the time and by Thursday you’d had enough of it.

All you wanted to do was go out with your mates to the skatepark to try and warm yourself up in the cold weather and then come home and order a takeout whilst snuggled up under a blanket.

But no.

You were being pampered left, right, and centre and you hated it. In the week leading up to the wedding, you, your mum, your aunt and her best friend were out being dolled up the entire week.

And they made a full day of each single thing that you had to which you were certain you could have managed to squeeze it all into one day. But no.

Monday, you had your hair trimmed and practice styled. Tuesday, you had to go and get your practice makeup done. Wednesday, you all went and got your nails done, so there was definitely no skateboarding in the picture now. And Thursday, you and the bridesmaids pampered your aunt all day.

So whilst you loved being in Manchester, you did miss your usual activities as all you wanted to do was sit down with Adam, Matty, George, and Ross and watch a film. But no, after your days filled with gossiping with your family you came home to them and practically fell asleep within five minutes of resting.

You intended to stay at Matty’s one night just to catch up with him, not to pursue anything sexual, but as soon as you sat down on the settee back at Adam’s you fell asleep. You woke up the following morning in your bedroom with a text from Matty saying:

Get some more sleep Sweetheart x I’ll see you tomorrow xx

And another from about ten minutes before you woke up saying,

Let me know when you’re up and I’ll sneak you out so we can go and get a Maccies breakfast xx

Matty informed you in the car on the way to McDonald's that after sitting next to him on the settee your head had slowly fallen to his shoulder where you passed out completely and Matty wasn’t one to deprive you of anything, especially your sleep. He knew how grouchy you could be if you didn’t get enough of it.

George had apparently carried you up to bed and Matty stuck around for a few hours just in case you woke up, but you were out like a light. Waking up to those texts was really cute though and you really enjoyed your secret breakfast with him.

When Friday came around you were actually quite excited because you knew you’d actually get to spend most of the day with some of your closest friends. You loved your Mum and Aunt to death but it had been overkill the past week.

Getting your nails done for the wedding you admit was fun whilst it was being done and for about a day afterwards but after a while the red acrylics started to get on your nerves. You found it more difficult to hold a pencil or your paintbrush so when you tried to be creative you had to hold back from adding the finer details of your work. The last thing you’d want is to ruin it.

But, it's your Aunt and Uncle's wedding. They are practically your adopted Mum and Dad so you can let this one slide. You’re not meant to be focussing on anything but the wedding anyway.

When Friday finally hits, you get yourself up ridiculously early to prepare yourself for the day. After waking up at 5:30 the first thing you did was shave your legs, making sure you didn’t miss a spot the day they were going to be on show.

It’s been cold and rainy a lot this summer and you didn’t have a boyfriend so you just thought fuck it and you hadn’t shaved them in a long while. It was a miracle you’d shaved them the night before Alex and Matty made you try the dress on last week and you’d only done that because you wanted to make sure it still fit you and you wanted to feel good whilst you were in it.

By 6 you’d eaten your breakfast and prepared everyone else's. You girls had your Aunt and Uncle's house to yourselves last night, as you’d all shipped the lads somewhere else for the night.

Thankfully though, you’re getting your makeup and hair done first because you're going to be the first out of the house. You're the flower girl so you should have been going with the bridal party but your Aunt didn’t trust her soon to be husband or her son to get there on time to see guests in so she was sending you to them to make sure they left on time.

So as soon as all the girls were ready and the photographer got pictures of you with your Aunt and your Mum, you were on your way. It's a little chilly outside but it’s nothing you can’t handle and it's still fairly early so the sun hasn't fully risen yet.

You get a taxi to meet the boys and you're pleasantly surprised to find everyone there and pretty much ready to go. Your Uncle is in his suit, his best mate (and best man) seems to have taken control and got everyone ready.

Your Uncle looks amazing in his dapper suit. It’s a black suit with a white shirt and black waistcoat and there’s a red rose pinned to his blazer obviously to match the wedding flowers and colours of the bridesmaids.

The best man's suit is fairly similar and so is Adam’s as the page boy. Your Uncle tells you that you look fantastic and he quietly says that he wishes your dad could see how beautiful you are today, something which makes your heart a little heavy but you keep yourself smiling and you give him a hug.

After making sure the adults are all good and ready to go, you move along to your friends. Your Aunt and Uncle had obviously invited the other three boys to their wedding because they practically lived in the Hann Household.

The day just wouldn’t be the same without them.

You go into the back room and find them all sitting there. Adam in his black suit with a white shirt, Ross in a navy suit and white shirt, George in a black suit and a black shirt, and your Curly is dressed in a grey suit and a black shirt.

Except his hair isn’t curly today which makes you pout. He’s gelled it back so it’s smooth and completely out of his face.

“Where’s your hair gone?” You ask, looking at Matty when you walk into the room a little more.

That‘s when everyone notices you, and just like the first time Matty saw you in that dress, he finds himself lost for words again today. You look absolutely stunning.

Your hair is down and loosely curled and it falls to just under your boobs, which also look really nice today. Your long legs are once again on show today and they somehow look better than they did the other day.

Your makeup has been done professionally today though and Matty thinks it just adds to you looking gorgeous. You have a slight winged eyeliner that’s smoked out at the end, but you have a shimmer on your lids that Matty can see whenever you blink.

And holy fuck. Your lipstick.

It’s a matte blood red that matches your dress perfectly. It draws Matty’s gaze to you and it’s almost hypnotic.

He never wants to look away. It’s as if you’ve made a television with your mouth that’s playing a film that had been perfectly created to Matty’s liking. He’d watch your lips like he was watching True Romance, his favourite film to watch with you.

“Fuck me Y/N, you look fit as fuck,” George says with his jaw practically agape, causing you to let out a loud laugh, which brings Matty out of his daze.

“You look very handsome Georgie,” You say before taking the seat between him and Matty.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before,” Ross says and you nod.

You chuckle a little, “You and me both.”

“Think you should wear them more often,” Matty says, sending you a cheeky glance whilst eyeing the end of the material that lies a little higher up your thigh when you’re sat down, showing off more of your gorgeous skin.

“Ha, you would,” You giggle, shaking your head a little.

“Bro,” You say, getting Adam’s attention and he looks round at you with raised eyebrows. “Where’s your rose?”

“Shit,” Adam says, getting up, “Left it upstairs, thanks B.”

You shake your head, feeling like a mother and you double check that the lads have everything with them like their wallets and car keys so you can all get to the church and then to the outskirts of Cheshire, where the hotel is located for the reception.

After another ten minutes, you’re getting conscious of the time and you feel the need to start getting everyone moving, knowing everyone would get a flap on soon and start rushing around. But today, you just want everything to be perfect and getting there early is definitely going to be the way to ease those nerves for you.

“Right, come on everyone. Time to go to the church,” You clap your hands twice as you stand up and you usher everyone up.

After five minutes of everyone scattering, you’d get the groom and the best man in the car and they’re off to the church. The boys lag behind a little but they have cars to take themselves so it isn’t that big of a deal.

But soon enough it’s you locking up the best man’s house and Matty standing in the hall waiting for you as the others are waiting in the car. Matty obviously keeps the front door closed as it’s October and still chilly despite the weather forecast saying it was going to be getting warmer later in the day.

You double check the guys haven’t missed anything and you’re pleased to see they haven't, so you made your way to the front door.

Matty’s watching you and he can tell straight away that you’re living in your head. As if you’re talking to yourself, silently running through a checklist like the organised person you are.

But knowing you, you’d scorn yourself for not enjoying the day like you’re meant to. So Matty elects to bring you out of your head.

He calls, “Wheels.”

You look up at him then and it seems to snap you out of your thoughts. Matty is about to tell you to relax but you seem to have diverted your thoughts before he has a chance too.

“Hey, we match,” You grin, looking down at Matty’s tie.

You walk to him and run your fingers over the blood red material. You smile seeing it’s literally the exact same shade as your lipstick and your dress.

“We do,” Matty smiles at the feeling of your hand on his chest. But he can't bring himself to look at it as he’s still mesmerised by your pretty face, “Got to love a coincidence.”

“We love a happy accident,” You grin looking into his brown eyes.

Matty chuckles and pulls you into a hug saying, “Alright Bob Ross.”

You hug him back as you giggle at his joke. You’d made the guys watch Bob Ross with you many times and ‘happy accident’ was one of the phrases he liked to use and the guys liked to make fun of.

“You look stunning, Sweetheart,” Matty half whispers as if it’s a secret that he only wants you to know.

He’d happily scream it from the rooftops though.

“Thank you,” You grin, tucking your hair behind your ear as you tell him, “You look very dapper yourself, even with your hair gelled back.”

Matty laughs a little before saying, “Thanks gorgeous.”

“Come on,” You pat his chest. “We’ve gotta go.”

Matty nods then and the both of you make sure the latch is on the door, ensuring it’d lock behind the both of you. After setting the alarm, you both get outside and see that all the cars except for Matty’s Mums (that he was borrowing to get him to the church today) are all gone.

It seems that you’d both been taking too long and the other boys went in Adam’s car.

“Oh,” You say, looking at the practically empty drive. You turn to Matty and grin, “Well, I guess I'm going with you.”

~*~*~*~

Thankfully everything goes very smoothly when you get to the church. You babysit your Uncle and the best man at the door whilst they play very good hosts to the guests starting to filter in.

You also keep an eye on the boys sitting in the front of the church and make sure they aren’t messing around. You know what they’re like, but thankfully they are keeping on their best behaviour.

However, the cheekier lot of the bunch is doing everything in his power to tease you. After you walk down the aisle, dropping petals to the floor just before the beautiful bride herself walks down, you sit yourself down next to Adam, in front of the other boys who are sitting behind you.

You’re on the end of the row near the wall and you know Matty is directly behind you. Your hair must have fallen over the back of the wooden bench when you sat down because you can feel him twisting it around his fingers. It’s nice at first once you realise what’s happening and that it isn’t a spider crawling on you.

But during the boring bits of the ceremony you can feel him doing things like halfheartedly plaiting your hair, before then tugging the strands free so they aren’t in a plait anymore. The only time he stops is when you turn to stand up to sing the hymn and you turn around and give him a knowing look.

Matty just playfully grins at you and you can tell he’s biting his tongue, trying not to laugh. But when you turn, you see that the other lads next to him must have been watching him too as the boys are also on the verge of bursting out laughing.

You want to laugh at that point then too but you just need to make it though the wedding itself and the rest of the day can be spent messing about. So when you sit back down after the song, you bring your hair over your shoulder so it all falls on one side of your chest.

You think he would have stopped with his teasing but apparently not. Matty instead must have been sitting forwards because you can feel his hot breath on the back of your neck.

And the sensation drives you insane.

You can feel him on you yet you never actually feel him. You know he’s right there but not doing anything and that’s somehow worse.

This being because you aren’t sure he knows what he’s doing. He used to linger behind your neck before pressing a kiss to it.

So this is torture for you. And to make it worse, the other lads won’t even know he’s doing it.

After all, he’s just breathing.

But you know it’s not just breathing. He’s teasing you, and he’ll know you like it.

The teasing doesn’t end after the ceremony either as you all end up in the back of Adam’s car after Matty drops his back off at his house. The five of you are going to be entitled to the free bar tonight which is lovely of your Aunt and Uncle to offer, so Tim had offered to pick up the lads who aren’t staying at the hotel.

George has the excuse of being in the passenger seat of Adam’s car because he’s the tallest. So that means that you, Ross and Matty have to squeeze into the back of Adam’s tiny Vauxhall Corsa.

Matty being the skinny bastard he is, goes in the middle with you and Ross on either side of him. It’s still a tight squeeze for the three of you but you make it work.

That didn’t stop Matty from being a little tease though. If anything, the close proximity adds to it.

Because he doesn’t have any arm room, he elects to rest the arm that’s closest to you down on your knee. And whilst you think nothing of it, as it’s more soothing to you than anything, it still makes you feel hyper aware that he’s there.

At one point during the journey, you get really uncomfortable so you turn towards Matty a little letting your knee rest over his and you put your head down on his shoulder too. You’re essentially curled up against him and you want to rest your eyes for the rest of the drive.

This obviously causes your dress to rise up your leg an inch or two more so you truly aren’t that surprised when Matty places his hand on your thigh after about five minutes. However, there was no way you’re getting to sleep with his fingertips slowly moving up and down your leg.

And Matty continues to have you on edge when you all get to the hotel. He stands with you whilst waiting for pictures and whilst you all get drinks, but his arm is around your waist with his hand resting a little lower on your back than it should be.

The pictures that you get together and with the rest of the family are so cute, and you like that Matty keeps you close at all times. You all make full use of the photographer and get pictures of the five of you.

You and Adam get one, as instructed to by your Mum and your Aunt. But Matty requests one with just you and you end up getting a few together.

One of you standing with your arms around each other, one of the both of you being silly and posing doing the peace sign, and another of you both laughing.

He doesn’t even let up his flirting when you all sit down for the meal. You’re sitting at a round table that’s opposite the bride and groom’s long table and you’re sitting between Matty and Adam.

Ross is next to Adam while George is next to Matty and your Mum is sat opposite you.

Matty flirts with you throughout the whole meal, sending you knowing looks, feeding you some of his food, and telling loads of jokes making both you and your Mum laugh. He’s a proper sweet talker, you can tell that your Mum loves him already.

You’d all been giggling along throughout the meal with your Mum telling her stories. She’d even told some of your childhood stories that you silently scorn her for.

Especially when she tells a story about how you’d had a childhood crush when you were about seven on one of your neighbours kids. Apparently he was about 19 and he had brown curly hair which Matty seems to find particularly hilarious.

Matty even slides his chair over to yours some more so he can tease you by taking the piss that you’d gone for him, saying you’ve had a type all along. Matty even goes as far to say that he’s your dream guy.

Of course you play back and shoot him down, not wanting his ego to get too big. You like seeing if he can take what he’s giving, and you’re pleased to see his cheeks go red when you give him some back.

The meal goes smoothly and before you know it the desserts are being served. You’d ordered chocolate cake and ice cream and you’re so excited for it, you haven’t stopped going on about looking forward to your dessert for the entire meal.

And when it arrives, you definitely seem to be enjoying it, despite claiming to be full from your main not too long ago.

Matty finishes his cheesecake within a few minutes; He then sheds off his grey waistcoat before reaching around to his blazer that’s hanging off the back of his chair and he pulls out his phone.

He’s on his phone for a few minutes until George takes his attention once more. Adam’s already got up after finishing his dessert and headed to his parents who were shouting him over.

Matty puts his phone down just between the two of you as he partakes in George and Ross’ conversation whilst your Mum is scorning you for struggling to finish your dessert. Matty silently laughs though, watching you power through the dessert, not letting it defeat you.

When Matty’s conversation with his friends turns into a loud spell of laughter, Matty turns back towards you a little. But as the brunette does that, his elbow knocks his phone to the floor.

After apologising to you, making sure it didn’t hit you as it bounced under the table, Matty ducks himself under the table to retrieve the device. He spots it not too far from your feet and he reaches for it.

But when he brings his hand back, Matty brushes the smooth skin on your leg when he pulls his phone back up from the floor. Matty notes that he’s made you jump so he genuinely apologises, “Sorry Wheels.”

You remove the spoon from your mouth and swallow the ice cream before saying, “It’s alright.”

But the way you said it made Matty second guess everything. It sounded encouraging, which he didn’t get because he didn’t set out to touch you.

Matty then read between the lines then and came to the conclusion that you were ‘alright’ with it because you wanted his hands on you. So he takes his chance a minute later and touches your leg again.

And you don’t jump at all this time when Matty’s little finger brushes the side of your leg, and because of that Matty gives you one more attempt to shy away from him when he lets his hand linger beside your leg. You surprise Matty after that though because you actually nudge your leg against his hand.

So Matty then doesn’t hesitate to rest his hand on your thigh and you don't hesitate to move slightly closer to him despite you still eating your dessert. Matty sneaks a glance at you then and he notices that your lips are now back to their normal colour as the food you’d eaten must have played a part in your lipstick coming off, along with the napkin you’d been using.

But in this moment your beautiful lips show your slight amusement at the situation you’re in. You’re sitting with Matty’s hand trailing the inside of your thigh in the back of the room and you feel like you’re on fire.

Especially when after a minute, he starts moving his hand up.

Your dress goes higher up your leg with every movement of his hand. And the thoughts of your dessert that’s still in front of you, become more distant.

You didn’t want to give into his teasing though. You want to eat your chocolate cake in peace, and then he can do whatever.

But you also want him to carry on. You like his adventurous, bordering on dangerous, nature.

You’ve never done anything as risky as this especially in such a formal setting. So you let him have his fun as you're trying to eat, even giving him more access to tease you.

Upon reaching the last piece of cake, you can’t bring yourself to eat it because Matty’s hand is brushing over your underwear and it makes your stomach drop. You know no one can see you because the circular table is in the corner of the room just opposite the bride and groom's.

Adam wasn’t at risk from seeing anything because his Mum and Dad had called him over to talk to them. George and Ross are too focused on their conversation, and Matty joins in every now and again, so no one suspects anything.

“Are you okay Y/N?” Your Mum pulls you out of your haze of thoughts about Matty’s fingers ever so slightly teasing you.

You’ve gone hot and you can feel it as you glance up from your cake that you’ve apparently been staring at for god knows how long. But you can’t look at Matty or your act would go straight out of the window.

“I don’t feel very good,” You say, swallowing down the feelings Matty was instilling in your body as he teases you over the thin material.

“I told you not to eat all the cake if you couldn’t handle it,” Your Mum chuckles over the table, “You never can.”

You give her a halfhearted smile, and chuckle, “Yeah.”

“You need a drink or anything Y/N? Some water?” Matty offers you in an innocent manner.

You look and can see the mischief in his eyes as he keeps the smirk off his face though. His fingers add a little more pressure as he teases you over the lacy material. He likes seeing your eyes go wide and he’s the cause of it.

You rest your hand over his, trying to get him to stop moving his fingers which he thankfully slows them as you speak to your Mum. That didn’t stop him from moving his fingertips ever so slightly every ten seconds though.

Matty knows you didn’t want him to stop. You could have easily pushed his hand away in the position that you were in. But you didn’t.

You wanted him there. Teasing you.

He knows you want him just as much as he wants you. He can see it in your eyes.

“I’m good, thank you Matty,” You say a little shakily, but only your usually curly haired brunette picks up on that.

After another few minutes of torture, you can’t take it anymore. Your Mum keeps talking to you and you can’t deal with that whilst Matty’s hand is there.

“I’m going to be sick,” You lie to your mother across the table.

You push Matty’s hand away but cling to his shoulder when you stand, giving it a prominent squeeze as you get up silently telling him to follow you.

You rush out and your Mum looks at you with worried eyes. She goes to stand up but Matty quickly does so instead.

“I’ll make sure she’s okay, don’t worry. You see to your sister,” Matty tells your Mum as he puts his napkin down on the table, nodding towards your Aunt trying to get her sister's attention.

“Thank you Matty,” She smiles gratefully, “You’re a lifesaver.”

Unsuspecting to your Mum though, Matty aims to make sure you’re okay in an entirely different way.

Instead of holding your hair back in the toilet you brought him into, Matty is pulling on it to keep you trapped in a kiss. You feel like it has been forever since your tongue has met his.

So you’re savouring every moment with him. Matty excites you like no other person ever has done.

You can’t imagine letting any other person do to you what Matty had just done at the table. He’s cheeky and almost too confident for his own good and you love that about him.

Both of you know exactly where this is going at this point because as soon as you’re both in the posh empty bathroom, Matty locks the door behind him. He ushers you against the sink where you can sit and you don’t hesitate in doing so.

The cold surface underneath you probably would’ve made you jump if Matty wasn’t taking up all of your attention like he so easily does every time you’re in his presence. His lips are on yours, his hands roaming everywhere like he owns you.

And in this moment he practically does.

After a minute of getting off with him, Matty’s lips start trailing down your jaw and neck where he starts sucking and nipping on your skin. You give yourself a few seconds to enjoy that sensation again while your fingers are laced in Matty’s hair but you can’t let him continue.

“No,” You breath heavily pulling on the back of his hair. “No marks on my neck or my chest. No.”

Yes, you love it but you can’t deal with trying to hide them today. Especially when you’ve already been pictured without them.

If you were found with them later, you’d never live it down.

“Okay,” Matty says, kissing his way down your chest before he drops to his knees so he's at the perfect height to go down on you.

You breathe out a, “Matty,” but it sounds to him as more of a scorn than it did a pleasured moan. He’s kissing up your legs when you protest again but he has an answer for everything.

“No one but me is going to see the inside of your thighs, Sweetheart,” Matty says before his head completely disappears under the skirt of your dress.

As he kisses your thighs he also tugs on your underwear which Matty can see is lacy and red. Once you lift yourself up a little for him to pry them off easily, you watch as he pockets them as you feel his lips get closer and closer to where you want them.

“Matty,” He hears you moan quietly, obviously trying to encourage him but also control your volume.

He really wants to carry on teasing you, but again, who’s he to deny you whatever you desire?

You have to bite your tongue to stop the loud moans you want to let out as Matty starts going down on you. Your fingers are pulling tightly on his gelled hair as he does so, needing something to hold onto whilst he doesn’t let up on the pleasure he’s building inside you.

You soon realise that you aren’t after the foreplay today though. He’s works you up enough by being a tease all fucking day.

“Matty, I need you now,” You tell him and you're thankful that a few seconds later he gets up off his knees.

Your hands immediately go to his shirt, pulling it out of his pants as his lips attack yours once again. You both can’t help but moan against the others lips and Matty’s get a little louder when you make quick work of the clothes on the lower half of his body.

Before you know it, Matty’s pants are around his ankles and he’s tearing open a condom with his teeth that he quickly retrieved from his wallet. You tease him a little, your hand working him up as if he wasn’t already hard.

It seems like you both aren’t in the mood for teasing today though because as soon as the condom’s on, no more time is wasted. You want him inside you as much as he wants to be there.

An effort is made for you to both keep as quiet as you can. So it’s just the sound of your skin hitting together that fills your ears in the posh bathroom. Filthy sounds really, but it just turns the both of you on even more.

Your lips rarely part so you both feel each other's moans on your tongues as you kiss. Although, sometimes this is hard because the pace had been set pretty fast and Matty isn’t messing about.

Your dress is bunched up high around your waist with Matty holding it at the back, making sure it doesn’t go in the sink behind you. Your legs are locked around him meaning that each thrust he gives you is sharp and deep, so it hits that spot inside you over and over again.

The porcelain basin behind you is pressing into your back harder with each thrust of Matty’s and somehow that adds to it because you’re pressed against him. You truly feel like you’re just made for each other, he just feels so good and everything about him in general just makes you feel like you never have before.

Each thrust from him is feeling better than the last, meaning that you don’t give a fuck about the porcelain digging into your lower back. You confirm in your mind that it’s definitely adding to the whole thing because you couldn’t move backwards, especially with your legs wrapped around him too.

When you reach your orgasm, you’re thankful that you have Matty’s lips on your own to muffle the moan that spills from your lips. Your lips also contain his groan upon feeling you clench around him until he finds his own release.

Your legs are still shaking around Matty’s waist when he finally stops thrusting. You cling to him to try and get your mind to come back around to you. It'd been a long time since an orgasm left you like that.

He’s actually mind blowing, because all you can do is rest your forehead against his shoulder as you return back to a normal headspace.

“Sweetheart, breathe,” Matty says softly, kissing the side of your head.

You hadn’t realised you’d stopped doing so. When you lift your head back up to look at the brunette you see that he looks just as fucked as you probably do.

Only when you stop shaking does Matty pull out of you. You sit on the side for a moment longer, your skirt falling back down covering you, as you watch Matty dispose of the condom and make himself presentable again.

After a few seconds, Matty comes back over to you and takes your hand, encouraging you to get to find your feet once more. Thankfully you’re steady on them when you do, or you are when you’re not moving in these heels.

“Fuck Sweetheart, you look so fucking good right now,” Matty grins taking a step back looking at you, your gaze still a bit fucked out and Matty likes knowing he’s the cause of it.

Your gaze runs down his body and you find him so sexy in today's attire that you don’t even hesitate to say, “So do you.”

You step into his arms again and get another kiss. A little sigh falls from Matty’s lips at you being in his arms one again and he feels you hum against his lips.

When you pull away, you stay close to him and ask, “Are you going to stop teasing me now?”

Matty smirks, “You don’t want me to do that.”

He knows you far too well.

“No I don’t,” You grin, telling him what you know he wants to hear.

However, you get a little serious when you say, “But you can’t do everything again because we can’t do this again today.”

Your instructions are a little somber as your hands run through his hair, sorting out the mess you'd made. You smooth back all his hair and Matty savours the feeling of you being so close.

“I know,” Matty gives you a sad little smile but you were both painfully aware of where you are.

Escaping for a quickie in the bathroom was only possible because you made a good actress and could lie like it was second nature. You knew you’d have to act when you went back out as well, but you weren’t thinking about that right now.

You’re thinking about the once again mindblowing sex you’d just had with the boy that made your heart beat faster. The boy that looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world and the warm feeling that fills your chest is like something you’ve not experienced in a long time.

“How are you so good every time?” You ask a little breathlessly as you wrap your arms around his neck, wanting him close.

Matty chuckles a little at your confession before suggesting, “I think it’s just how we work, Sweetheart. You blow my mind.”

Matty’s lips find yours once again and he kisses you sweetly. It's soft and simple and serves the purpose as you both smile into it.

You pull away from him for a minute knowing you need to head back out to everyone else soon though. And when you tell him that, Matty takes your hand and tries to lead you towards the door.

You pull him back to you though.

“Are you okay?” Matty asks as he turns back to you, holding you a little tighter seeing you shakily take the step towards him to stop him from leaving.

“I’m trying to walk in heels about a minute after an orgasm, Matty,” You tell him. “I can barely stand up straight.”

He grins at you then, “You need me to stay and escort you out?”

“No,” You shake your head, “I need you to give me my underwear back.”

“You’re no fun, Sweetheart,” Matty shakes his head a little, trying to suppress his smile.

You scoff a little then, stating, “We just fucked in the toilets at my Aunt's wedding. If that doesn’t class as fun, I don’t know what does.”

Matty grins at you then before reaching into his pocket and retrieving the red lace.

“Thank you,” You say, taking them from him before you turn to head to the closest of the empty cubicles.

“I’ll wait outside for you,” Matty tells you and you smile showing your gratitude.

At least him waiting outside would help persuade people that you are actually ill. Or to anyone who didn’t know you were ‘sick’ anyway, it wouldn’t look suspicious.

After making yourself presentable again, you make your way out to Matty. You find him not too far from the doors and he lets you link his arm as you walk back towards the function room door.

“Are you sure you can walk?” Matty teases.

“Matty, I’m fine,” You chuckle, “Now watch me win an Oscar.”

Going back inside Matty thinks you play the role very well. If he hadn't just been with you, he’d have believed you’d just been sick as well.

You’re really good at acting. You even went as far as to ask your Mum for yours and Adam’s room key so you could brush your teeth. (Yes your annoying family had made you share a room with your cousin, that was the reason you didn’t fuck Matty upstairs).

You disappear out of the room for about ten minutes when you go to ‘brush your teeth’ and the way your Mum and Aunt fawn over you when you come back makes Matty chuckle. You have to nudge him at one point to make him stop.

But soon enough, the lies cease and the day moves on. It’s time for the speeches.

Yours and Adam’s Grandad start the speeches off as he’s of course the father of the bride. He tells a lot of funny and embarrassing stories about your mum and your aunt growing up and they make you laugh as you don’t know some of them yourself.

Even when your grandma steals the microphone for a minute to wish her daughter all the luck in the world, it makes you giggle. As if your Aunt hadn’t been with your Uncle since way before they had Adam 21 years ago.

The speeches then move along to the grooms and your Uncle is doing an excellent job of making everyone laugh, as he’s a really funny guy. Your Uncle is one of your favourite people on the planet, you hope he’d walk you down your own aisle one day as he had been the father figure for most of your life.

Your Uncle has made everyone laugh, he embarrassed your Aunt which was really funny to see. She was always the cool one and doing the same to him, so he was definitely getting his own back now.

The only thing left to do was make people cry. And he was succeeding.

“There’s unfortunately a couple of important people missing here today,” Your Uncle says and you know what’s about to come, and you aren't entirely sure you’re ready for it.

“And those people are the ones who should be here the most,” Your Uncle smiles down at his wife and she takes his hand and you see her thumb caress his skin which seems to help him carry on.

“I know me and my lovely wife would love nothing more than our brother-in-law to be here with us today... He was truly one of the best... The best friend I could have ever asked for and he was taken from all of us, especially his lovely wife and daughter, far too soon,” Your uncle continues and a ball quickly forms in your throat.

You smile at your Uncle and then glance to your Mum and see that her eyes have welled up which subsequently makes yours do the same. As you offer your Mum a smile, which she returns, you feel someone take your hand.

And when you follow the action, your hand lies in a certain curly haired brunette's, and he offers you the warmest smile which you didn’t know you needed until right now.

When you reached your early teens, you finally understood what experiences you’d missed out on because your dad had passed away when you were five. You’d learned to get your emotions out when you needed to and you learned to keep them at bay for your Mum’s sake.

So, it wasn’t often anymore that you thought about your Dad and got emotional, but when you did think of him and you’re surrounded by family, it did upset you.

You always felt like there was a missing piece, and today was one of those days. So when Matty offered you that support you took it and squeezed his hand back.

When you glance back at your Uncle he smiles at you and you blow him a kiss which he seems to appreciate. He continues to talk about your dad a little bit, saying he was in the room with everyone now and your Uncle says some really lovely things about him missing out being able to dance with you looking beautiful today, which makes you tear up but you promised your Uncle that he could dance with you.

You do have to wipe away a few stray tears after that moment, all while Matty is there to comfort you and you also feel Adam’s hand on your shoulder letting you know he’s there for you too. You really appreciated everything that your Uncle has said about your Dad and whilst he was speaking you lace your fingers with Matty for that extra comfort that you crave.

The speech moves on past the section that involved your Dad and you listen to your Uncle's anecdotes about when he met your Aunt and your Mum. The stories are really funny and the speech is amazing.

Matty’s hand never leaves yours throughout it all, unlike Adam’s eventually left your back, which you’re thankful to Matty for. He keeps his thumb moving across your skin and you’re so grateful for that.

Every so often he gives your hand a squeeze which you know is a silent ‘are you okay?’ and each time you give him a longer squeeze back confirming that you are.

By the end of the speech, your hand is in his lap and Matty’s other hand is on top of your clasped ones, again tracing soothing patterns onto your skin. When the time comes to clap you don’t let go of his hand either.

Both you and Matty elect to clap one handed on your thighs and during the clap your Uncle smiles at you and you stop clapping to blow him a kiss.

Before Matty can ask if you’re okay the Best Man’s speech starts which is actually hilarious. However, your heart feels heavy so your hand stays in Matty’s until that speech finishes too.

“You okay?” Matty asks in a quiet voice.

“Yeah,” You smile, giving his hand a squeeze, “Thank you.”

Matty just smiles at you then before his other hand comes up to your face and he tells you to look up which you do. His hand is on your cheek as his thumb runs underneath your eye.

Your suspicions of what he was doing were confirmed when he explains, “Your mascara smudged a little.”

You chuckle then just thinking he’s the cutest person in the entire world. You quickly cup his face in your other hand and pull him in for a quick kiss which Matty returns with a little smile on his lips.

“Thank you,” You say, giving his hand another squeeze before you both have to stand up and head out of the room.

The herd of people head out of the room so the staff can clear up and set the room up for the evening’s festivities.

You’re then whisked away from your new safety harness and roped into more photos with your family. After about half an hour of having pictures and waiting for them to need you, you finally escape back to your boys.

Matty makes sure you’re okay again and he gets you another amaretto like you’d been drinking all afternoon. You thank him and you stick with your boys until the room is prepared for the evening party and you are all called back in.

You all watch as the bride and groom dance along to a cheesy love song that you know your Aunt loves and you think she looked gorgeous dressed in white. She’s truly so beautiful and you can see a lot of your Mum in her.

It makes you think how beautiful your Mum and Dad would have been on their wedding day. Of course you’d seen pictures of the occasion, but this moment you were witnessing now just makes you think of how your Mum and Dad would have danced.

You wish you were there to see it but that wasn’t the case. You came along almost exactly nine months later.

There is dancing for a little while that you don’t really want to take part in so you sit down and joke around with your boys for a good hour before George suggests heading outside to the grand patio area that the hotel had and getting high.

Of course, no one objected to this. In fact, you’re the first up.

Adam gets lost in the crowd on the way out but when he shows back up again, not too long later he’s pleading with Matty to save some because apparently your Aunt caught you all through the window and drunkenly wants some for herself. This revelation makes you giggle as you don’t really believe it.

You just think Adam wants some for himself.

However it turns out to be true because Adam comes back after a minute, saying that you can’t not save some because his Mum is threatening him to cry on her wedding day.

Matty still doesn’t seem to believe him though as the both of you are just sharing it.

But your cousin doesn’t stop going on about it for the next five minutes and it gets to the point were Matty snaps, “Hann fuck off... I only brought three and me and Wheels are having one. George stole one, and me and Wheels are having the other one later.”

The death stare your cousin sends him then is a little scary, even for your standards.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Matty doesn’t back down, taking another drag, “I didn’t expect your Mum to wanna get high on her wedding day.”

Adam throws back, “Well you don’t have to be selfish and have two.”

You try not to laugh as you take the spliff from Matty and bring it to your lips once more. You like the way it makes you relax and you’re slightly happy Matty is defending your other one for later.

“Hann,” Matty says, trying to bite back his annoyed tone, “We’re gunna have to ask about, considering I’m the only one who thought to bring the weed.”

You leave the squabbling boys to themselves though when you spot your Aunt wondering outside through the door a bit further down from the one you. You call her over to you and you walk towards the table not too far from the boys to sit with her.

“Hey,” You giggle, watching her take a seat, “Did you want to just have a drag or get super high?”

“Just a drag,” Your Aunt giggles up at you. “Takes me back to when your Mum used to bring some home with her and we’d sneak it away from your Grandma and get high in the car.”

You let out a loud laugh at that knowing that is what Adam and the boys do a lot of the time. You let her have a drag of the spliff as you turn to your cousin and giggle, “Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree Hann.”

The bride offers you the spliff back and once it’s trapped between your fingers you think it through, knowing there’s only about two drags left. You don't want fights about it but you also want to be generous to your Aunt.

“You can have the end of this,” You say to your Aunt, bringing the spliff closer to your lips, but your grin at Matty as you say it, despite him standing a few meters away from you.

Looking back at your Aunt you tell her, “I’ll share my last drag,” before taking it and holding your breath, before handing it over.

She grins up at you and quietly scorns, “Will you just get with the poor boy already? His eyes haven’t left you all day.”

If only she knew.

You just grin at her and shake your head warningly, silently telling her to ‘shut up’. You love your Aunt to pieces but you don’t want or feel the need to overthink things like that when you are around Matty.

You make your way over to him and grin. You point to your mouth so he knows what you're up to and when his lips move down to yours he takes his shotgun kiss.

Soon enough though it just turns into a real kiss as his hands rest on your hips, pulling you into him a little more and your hands are resting on his chest. You should be surprised when he tries to deepen it, but you aren’t.

In fact, you encourage it until you remember that you reapplied your lipstick when you went upstairs earlier.

You pull back when he gets a little too into it, warning him, “Watch my lipstick.”

“So many rules, Sweetheart,” Matty grins, shaking his head a little.

But he doesn’t seem to care that much because he just pulls you further into him and kisses your lips once more. Matty savours the feeling, as he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to get enough of you. When he pulls away, he makes you laugh.

“How do you still taste like chocolate when we’ve had a spliff?” Matty questions completely baffled by you.

It was all he could taste earlier when you were both in the bathroom.

Chocolate. Chocolate. Chocolate.

And now that taste was confusing him with the smell of the weed too. It was sort of morphing into the same thing.

You just giggle, ignore the question and attach your lips to his once more.

~*~*~*~

“Dance with me?” Matty asks you when you’re both standing in the room with the dancefloor watching the couples, including your Aunt and Uncle, slow dancing.

Your eyes go a little wide at Matty’s question, “I don’t know how to dance.”

“Neither do I, but we’ll figure it out,” Matty grins, grabbing your hand and pulling you to him.

He moves you onto the dancefloor and he holds your hip and your hand like a ballroom dancer and rests your other hand on his shoulder.

You slowly dance to the acoustic version of James Blunt’s 1973 which you find quite cute because of how close the year is to his band name. But maybe you just find that amusing because of how many drinks you’d had.

You definitely wouldn’t have agreed to dance with anyone sober. But you’re entitled to the free bar and so was Matty.

It’s past 9 p.m. now and he’d split more of your amaretto than you would ever usually allow when you were paying for your own drinks. But you’d definitely drunk a lot more than he’d spilled, meaning that you would’ve been very easily persuaded to dance, even if it wasn’t the boy who you may or may not have had a crush on who asked you.

You dance close to each other, to the point where there is no room between you. You’re just clutching each other, loving the intimate moment and you don’t even feel the need to speak as the song plays.

You just sway together and you try to remember every little second of this. You like dancing in Matty’s arms. You like him holding you close like you’re his.

Truthfully you don’t want the moment to end. You like feeling the little kisses he places on your neck and you find that your whole body tingles when he compliments you.

“You look stunning,” He whispers in your ear.

You can't contain your grin so you’re thankful that your cheek is pressed against his and he can’t see it. You compliment him back, “You look really good too.”

And he truly does. His black shirt had long been untucked from his grey pants now and the loose red tie with the buttons undone just makes him even more attractive to you. The hair starting to fall a little even does it for you too.

“But you honestly just look... Wow,” Matty says, not being able to find a better word.

You grin and whisper a, “Thank you,” as the song fades and a familiar one comes on.

You can’t help but ask your Curly a question then as it’s your favourite song.

I’m Yours by Jason Mraz.

“Did you ask for this song to be put on?” You grin, looking at him as you both start swaying a little bit faster to the new beat.

Matty grins back saying, “Maybe.”

“Did you learn it for me?” You ask curiously.

About two months ago, you asked him on the phone if he would learn it and play it for you at some point. This time you’d been in Manchester you hadn’t had any alone time so you weren’t sure if he had learnt it or not.

But of course, your Curly comes though, “I did.”

You can't hide the smile on your face at that point. You just dance and both softly sing along to the song. And every so often Matty kisses your neck before he carries on singing into your ear.

Yeah, the song is an older one, but you rediscovered it at the beginning of the year and you just love it so much. So for months, you’d been playing it on repeat in your headphones endlessly whilst you painted or created some other form of art.

As the post chorus comes along you feel Matty's lips on your neck again and you smile at the feeling as you carry on moving together to your favourite song.

The post chorus is your favourite bit because it feels like an intimate sort of moment that you were intruding on. So after the little skat that Mraz sings you can’t help but continue to sing just as loud.

“And I will nibble your ear,” You sing along with Jason Mraz, but as you do, you feel Matty do exactly that to you.

The giggle you let out then can’t be contained and Matty chuckles when he hears that beautiful sound. But at the end of the song, you’re both just swaying in a circle and singing the lyrics into the other’s ear.

It’s a beautiful moment. And what better way for it to end than with a kiss?

When Matty’s lips connect to yours, you both savour it until the next song starts. You’re about to begin swaying along to the new tune but your Uncle taps Matty on the shoulder asking if he could steal you away for a song.

Of course Matty agrees and he lets your Uncle dance with you. But every time you turn around, you catch Matty watching you dance with your Uncle, and you feel your cheeks go hot under his gaze.

God, you really were embodying the song that had just been on. All it took was for him to look at you and smile and your usual chilled out self became so hot that you thought you'd melt right through the cracks.

You really needed to get your grip back.

~*~*~*~

As the night gets later, you get drunker, which means that when the second spliff you and Matty are sharing is depleted, you start sharing your thoughts.

Your back is against the brick wall behind you and you have Matty’s blazer on keeping you warm. Matty is standing about a foot in front of you and he’s just caught you looking up at his hair.

“I prefer your hair curly,” You tell him as you watch him take the last drag, stubbing the rest out.

Matty grins, “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah... I miss my Curly.”

“I’ve not gone anywhere, Sweetheart,” Matty chuckles, stepping closer to you and pulling your body into his.

“No,” You shake your head, “I mean in general.”

You can tell he’s confused then but your drunk self elaborates and clears it up for him.

“I miss our summers,” You start. “I miss coming to Manchester... I miss you showing me how to do tricks on my skateboard.”

Everything you’re saying is making his heart swell. But even more so when you finish off with, “I miss you flirting with me and calling me Wheels... I miss you a lot Matty.”

“You’ve got no idea how much I miss you Sweetheart,” Matty tells you, pulling you firmly against him and you just stand there gazing into each other's eyes.

Matty breaks the moment's silence by suggesting, “You should come back over and see us soon.”

“I want to,” You nod, “I’ll try and come up properly again next summer.”

“We could do so much,” Matty grins, nudging your nose playfully with his.

“Wanna do it all,” You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Matty asks with raised eyebrows, “You come to all of our gigs?”

“Of course,” You giggle, “Got to see The 1975 for the first time, haven’t I?”

“You do,” Matty says before pecking your lips once.

“Did you keep any songs for this one?” You ask, knowing with every new band name they never kept any of the songs they made in that era and brought it to the next.

“We’re keeping Girls and Sex,” Matty tells you.

You feel blood rush to your cheeks then knowing the latter is about you. Matty grins seeing you look to the ground after that, as he never made it a secret that the song is about you. If anything he wanted you to know.

“Hey Y/N/N,” Your Mum calls from round the corner.

You and Matty separate from each other's embrace then, and you make your way to your Mum who is bound to introduce you to one of her new friends again. Unsurprisingly she does but at least this time her friend has a son who looks around your age that has come along to the event.

You’re pleasant with the guy and Matty watches in amusement with George, Ross, and Adam at you trying your best to make conversation. Your body language tells those who knew you best that you’re tired and you really can’t be arsed with the conversation.

And it just gets worse when both you and your Mum are encouraged to get in a picture with her friend and her son. The boys watch as you put on the worst fake smile they’ve ever seen but Matty takes note of the lad whose arm goes around you as politely moves closer to you for the picture.

The guy is smitten with you. Anyone could see it.

Especially Matty though. And he hates it.

Even more so when the guy pulls you to the bar and you get a drink with him. Matty hates you talking to him, hates seeing you genuinely smiling at the lad. Matty hates you clinking your glass with him, hates you doing a shot with him, and hates seeing you rest your hand on his arm when you genuinely laughed at whatever he’s saying.

But Matty’s just thankful that a few minutes later you come back over to him and his friends. Matty traps you against him, his arms snaking around your waist.

“How's your new friend?” George asks you teasingly.

You frown at him and ask, “Why are you saying it like that?”

“He was giving you the lips, Wheels,” Matty tells you as he kisses your neck a few times.

You pull a disgusted face then, definitely not wanting that boy to ‘give you the lips’. You lean back into Matty a little, taking a drag of the cigarette you just lit and relax into him.

“I’m good thanks,” You cringe. “His curls and his height are as good as he gets.”

Matty hadn’t missed that the guy was literally just a 6’ 3” version of himself. But a lot less good looking, if Matty did say so himself.

“I reckon you could knock him out if he came too close,” Matty whispers into your ear which causes you to let out a giggle.

The night draws on and you and Matty spend the majority of the night in each other's company. Not always at each other's sides but you both never stray too far away.

Matty had given you his blazer when it started going dark, which was around 7 p.m. as he didnt want you getting cold when you all went out for a smoke. You thought it was very cute of him and you liked his aftershave that seemed to linger on the material.

You like his smell. It reminds you of your second home, as you spent most of your time in his company the last few times you come to Manchester.

All too soon though, the evening begins to draw to a close. And that starts when you feel a buzzing in the blazer that you had on.

You find Matty’s phone to be the culprit and when you pull it out you see Dad flash up on his phone, along with the time of 02:43.

“Hi Tim,” You answer it knowing Matty won’t mind.

You love Tim and you haven’t spoken to him for ages. You really miss Matty's whole family though, especially Louis.

“Y/N, is that you?” Tim asks you and you smile hearing his jolly voice.

You tell him, “It is, Matty lent me his blazer and it had his phone in it.”

“Ah he’s a gooden, isn't he?” Tim chuckles down the line. After you agree with him, Tim asks, “How’s the tie change gone down?”

You're confused at that question, and you assume it’s just your drunken mind needing the question simplified, “What do you mean?”

“The red tie?” Tim tells you and you glance at Matty who’s in conversation with George just across the patio. “He had a grey one to match his suit originally but he’s not stopped all week about me needing to help him find a tie in a particular shade of red.”

“Oh,” You say, a little shocked by the information. A smile also makes its way to your face, remembering your conversation from this morning, when you mentioned that he matched you.

The thought that he’d done it intentionally makes your heart beat faster.

Matty turns around laughing at something George had said then and his eyes connect with yours, which in that moment makes your heart flutter and butterflies come to your stomach. You glance down at his tie that is now loose around the collar of his black shirt and you press your lips together before telling Tim, “Yeah, the tie looks really good.”

“Ah, that's good then,” Tim says in his geordie accent as your eyes connect with Matty’s once more and you smile at each other.

“Are you alright to tell him I’m going to set off now to pick them up? I’ll be about half an hour,” Tim asks you.

“Yeah, of course,” You nod, even though he couldn’t see you. “Do you want to speak to him?”

You start walking over to Matty then, a little slower than your usual pace because of the amount of alcohol you’d consumed and because your heels were beginning to hurt a little. Tim says down the phone, “Yeah alright, if he’s not too busy?”

“No, don’t worry,” You grin, “He’s right here.”

Matty tilts his head to the side a little then, seeing you approach him on the phone with a look in your eyes he can’t quite pinpoint. “I’ll see you soon Tim,” You smile and Matty understands it’s his dad then.

You say a final goodbye before you hand Matty his phone over and whilst he takes that from you, you trade it for his cigarette and listen to his end of the conversation whilst chatting a little to George.

Matty’s answers to his Dad are generic, nothing revealing about them, so there’s really no need to listen in. It sounds like he’s just thankful that his Dad is coming to pick him and the other boys up.

“Thanks Dad, see you later,” Matty says, “Bye.”

Matty hangs up the phone then and pulls you into his body, maybe craving the warmth as you’d stolen his blazer, or maybe craving you. Either way, you’re happy in the embrace you’re trapped in and you can’t really stop yourself from smiling as you finish chatting to George about his job.

You lean back into Matty’s chest whilst you’re finishing off his cigarette. After a second, his hands come around your waist and he pulls your blazer open a bit so he can put his phone back in the inside pocket.

You stay like that for a little while until your cousin is shouting you inside for some more pictures.

You roll your eyes knowing it’s getting closer to 3 a.m. now and you really don’t want to be having pictures taken at this time. However, this day is not about you, so you get up and leave Matty and George alone once again.

When the photos are finished you glance at the clock seeing that it’s 3 a.m. and you’re genuinely so tired. Both you and Adam head back outside to your friends then and see a group of all the youths of tonight around your age had formed where you left Matty and George earlier.

As the both of you walk over though, you see that the group had basically formed a small circle. You and Adam slot yourself in next to George, Matty is opposite you next to some guy he’d apparently not seen in years that he’d pointed out earlier.

Ross was only a couple of people away from him, still looking dapper like before but you can’t take your eyes away from Matty. Partly because he just looked amazing in that black shirt and his red tie with his hair now falling in his face a little bit.

But mostly because he so easily captured everyone’s attention with his mouth that never stops running. It was like he asked if anyone minded if he gave a speech, because everyone gives him their attention.

And right now he’s talking to an old friend of his about their ex.

“Nah mate, honestly I never really got on with your bird the first time I met her. She was dressed in nout when we were all out and she was telling everybody that she was shagging about,” Matty told the guy and you had to hand it to him, he had some balls saying that to someone he barely knew.

“But she turned out to be alright. Actually one of the more laidback lot of the bunch,” Matty finishes up with and the guy just laughs and you’re just glad you didn’t have to drag Matty away from a fist fight.

But a minute later something happens that you aren’t expecting. You watch a really pretty girl with red hair, that you’d noticed earlier in the day, subtly tuck herself under Matty’s arm.

You don't think anyone else noticed it because she was standing next to him anyway, but your eyes had rarely strayed away from Matty today so you noticed instantly. Even more so when his arm goes around her shoulder.

A pit forms in the bottom of your stomach then and you aren’t too sure why. But looking at the girl next to Matty stings in a way it never had before seeing him with someone else.

You didn’t even feel like this the first time you’d seen him with Lucy. It’s a strange feeling and you didn’t really like it so you just didn’t look towards them hoping the sensation would leave.

But the feeling didn’t go away, mostly because you can’t really take your eyes off them. You want to see exactly where her hands are on him, and the fact she’s clutching to his shirt makes you jealous.

You don’t want her touching him at all.

Jealousy really is a dirty feeling, you don’t like it, and the fact you’re feeling it this intensely makes you want to head up to bed so you don’t get more wound up. The girl who has the most stunning red hair keeps giggling and leaning herself into Matty and Matty chuckles along with her to the guy's jokes.

You didn’t even hear the joke because you’re just so concentrated on her. Her hair stands out against her black dress which just draws people in to look at her.

Her dress is also riskily short which obviously brings her a lot of attention but the fact that she’d drawn Matty’s hurt your heart a little. But he wasn’t yours, so you had to suck it up and deal with it.

After another minute, you look back and the girl and Matty are looking at each other and you know exactly what you’re about to witness. She wanted him, you can just tell.

You don’t know why you carry on looking when she goes for the kiss, but you do. There’s a little tug on your heart that you try to pretend that you don’t feel when her lips are about to connect to his.

But all of a sudden Matty does something you truly didn’t expect.

“Oh,” Matty says, pulling his head back from the girl about to kiss him, “Best not, I’ll probably yosh in your mouth.”

The girl pouts at him with her gorgeous face full of make up and asks him as if she's a doting girlfriend, “You not feeling well?”

Matty shakes his head and you hear him say as he detacts himself from her, putting a hand on his stomach, “Nah… It’s like five past three, I can hardly see, and I'm on the verge of passing out.”

“I’m going getting some water,” Matty tells the girl before he heads inside and you avert your gaze quickly before you’re caught looking.

You see the girl's disappointed face and you can’t help the smile that forms on your lips. You don’t think you’d been this pettily happy for a long time.

A few minutes later Matty shouts from the door, “Hann, my Dad’s here.”

Your little group parts ways from the others, knowing that it’s time to say bye. You and Adam are staying in the hotel with your parents and they had annoyingly put you and Adam in a twin room, but the rest of the lads were heading back into Wilmslow.

You all meet Matty at the door and after the boys say bye to your family, you and Adam head outside. As the lads say goodbye to Adam, you politely say hello to Tim and ask how the family is doing.

You also tell him that you can’t wait for the next season of Benidorm as you find the programme hilarious and the fact he’s in it makes it even better.

Soon enough though, Adam takes your spot with Tim and you say goodbye to your boys then. You savour their hugs, knowing you wouldn’t see them until Christmas again now.

George is the first you hug, and then Ross, leaving Matty till last. You shrug off his blazer and playfully help him get it back on before he traps you in a hug.

You bury your head into his neck, shamelessly inhaling his scent and you’re sure you get more drunk off that. After a long and tight squeeze goodbye you part from him, but Matty doesn’t let you get too far from him.

His arms stay around your waist and your brunette cheekily glances at your lips when he says, “Need one for the road Sweetheart.”

And just from the look on his face you could tell he wants another kiss. And you’re not getting out of this until he gets one.

“Thought you felt sick?” You ask him, not particularing wanting to kiss him if he’s going to throw up into your mouth.

You aren’t Alex, you can’t cope with that shit.

“No, not in the slightest,“ Matty shakes his head, smiling a little.

That confuses you.

You frown a little, “But the girl…You didn’t ki-“

“The girl wasn’t you,” Matty interrupts sincerely, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Your heart warms at him saying that and his beautiful brown eyes show he’s being completely serious. The way he’s looking at you makes your heart flutter.

The next second you're captured by his kiss. Your heart rate once again increases feeling his lips against yours and even more when his tongue finds yours.

Your hands travel up his body, one resting on his neck and the other lacing into his hair. Matty hums a little feeling your nails against his scalp before your fingers curl around his locks and pull on it.

Matty’s hand that’s resting on your hip goes completely around your back and pulls your body closer to his. His other still cupping your cheek, guiding you through the kiss.

Not that you need the guidance at this point. You’re sure you knew pretty much everything about him, especially that tongue of his.

That was one thing you definitely had in common.

You try to savour the feeling of him against you and his lips against yours because you don’t know when you’d feel it again. You’re a little worried you never would.

You don’t want to go back over to Manchester and find that he has a surprise girlfriend again. That may be selfish of you, but you really don’t.

When you both part from the kiss, you keep close to each other. Your faces are barely two inches apart.

“Please come and see us more often Sweetheart,” Matty pleads, not wanting to let go of your body.

Every time you’re standing in his arms he feels whole. Like you are made to be there.

“I will,” You nod in confirmation.

You really want to. You miss spending him in their company. In Matty’s company.

“Good,” Matty grins, with his thumb still caressing your cheek, “Because I’ll be coming over to Sheffield if you don’t.”

You grin up at him and lean into his palm a little, “I promise I'll ask the bride tomorrow if I can come and stay again next summer.”

Matty grins at you and pulls you in for a quick peck, and after he says, “I'll see you soon, Wheels.”

“See you soon, Curly.” You say before you kiss him once more.

This time you don’t care about your lipstick. You just need a kiss that’d satisfy you until you see him again.

And you really hope that would be sooner rather than later.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Really hope you enjoyed this! And if you fancy reading the full story that is a love triangle between Matty and Alex, the fic is Nothing Revealed In A Common Crisis and you can find it here and @nriacc! Thanks a million for reading, please let me know if you enjoyed it x

Taglist: @alovesreading @hazskillerqueen @multifandom-of-madness @conanbeshifting @thereisaplaceintheheart @jasmine06blog @kennedy-brooke @blancastans @luvrattyhealy @wendyspotatopeeler

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