#I would not be able to string 2 words together after a day like that lmao

[princelancey]

Lance Stroll | post session(s) interview Las Vegas GP 2023

#f1 #lance stroll #formula 1 #aston martin f1 #How he still has so much energy idk #It has to be sgar supplied #I would not be able to string 2 words together after a day like that lmao

[lestappenforever]

With the Lestappen-overtaking-Maxiel situation going on: Could you maybe make a little recommendation list of your favourite Lestappen fics (can be yours and/or other people's)?

Hi anon!

I absolutely can, what a fitting celebration!

As I'm still working on a proper fic rec list as I keep reading more and more fics, below you will find a small selection of my all-time favorite fics - both to read and to write!

Full list of my all-time favorite fics that I have read and written below the cut!

My all-time favorite fics that I have read:

Monaco Malaise (part 1 of Temptation's Trajectory) by @cupidskissx Rated E | 8,037 words | Complete

Using the reflection in the mirror above the vanity, he steals occasional glances into the bedroom as he wets the cloth and cleans himself off. Charles is still on his forearms and knees, face buried in his pillow, he doesn’t look like he’s going to be moving any time soon.

Max and Charles have been hooking up for a few months, casually, no string attached — definitely no feelings involved… The disaster that was Monaco 2021 sees them in Charles’ apartment, with Max having to deal with the fact that Charles can’t get out of his head.

Azerbaijan Abnegation (part 2 of Temptation's Trajectory) by @cupidskissx Rated E | 16,972 words | Complete

Charles stares at him intently, “Last time was an anomaly.” Not for the first time, Max recalls the awkward swell of humiliation after Charles had told him to stop. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the memory of everything that followed, “Yeah, that better not happen again.”

After Monaco, Max thought he’d made up his mind about Charles, and their little arrangement. They’re in Azerbaijan and Charles is everywhere: in his head, in his messages, in his hotel room… Will Max be able to hold onto his resolve, or will his attempts at self-denial only prolong the inevitable?

Mona's comment: I have read these two fics more times than I can count, and I'm going to keep reading them again and again and again until the day I die. Loz is such an amazingly talented author, and her writing has honestly altered my brain chemistry numerous times.

you and me, just us (and your teammate sergio) by @oscar-fastri Rated T | 3,377 words | Complete

Checo was fully aware of what he’s walking into. Still, he seriously doubts that anyone could have been prepared for the full force of Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc being heads over heels in love with each other and not even trying to hide it.

Or: 5 times Checo thirdwheels Max and Charles + 1 time it's everyone else's turn

Mona's comment: This is the "You, me and your friend Steve" song in perfect fic format, and let me tell you the sound I made when Avery published it was not human.

The Nights Are Long (But It's Easier Together) by @f1writingbyme Rated E | 43,759 | Complete

“Oh, God, what is it?” Max groans. “It’s Mr. Corvetto, right? I knew it. I’m telling you, never move into an apartment next to elderly people. It’s just– Why does she call me? What the hell can I do? Doesn’t she need to call an ambulance or something? Or, I don’t know, her family, or–” “Max.” Charles interrupts Max’s ranting. He ends the phone call, cutting off Mrs. Corvetto’s panicked yelling with a simple press of his thumb. He stares at the blue-eyed man in front of him. “Your apartment is on fire.”

Or: The fire in his apartment is only the beginning of a long list of misfortunes that await Max. Fortunately, he has Charles by his side to help him through it. That is until Charles is the one that gets targeted.

Mona's comment: I don't even have words for this, it just needs to be read. WARNING: Prepare for heavy angst.

And That's How I Foksmashed Dad's Championship Trophy by @il-predestinato Rated T | 6,500 | Complete

All of that would have been forgivable if not for the Green-Eyed Monster’s complete disregard for the pre-contracted occupation rights of Max’s lap. Such rights had long been pre-determined and belonged to Sassy (and occasionally to Jimmy, she admitted begrudgingly). However, no amount of quiet hisses and vicious glares seemed to penetrate the creature’s thick skull, and he would greedily occupy Max’s thigh for more than 95% of any given afternoon. Sometimes with his head, sometimes with his feet, and a few times he even straddled his entire body over Max; the latter could not have been comfortable for Max, as the Green-Eyed Monster was enormously overweight compared to Sassy. (Jimmy had insisted that it was not nice to shame another living creature about their weight, but she was not wrong. With her compact size and considerably more reasonable mass, Sassy was confident that she was much more comfortable for Max to have on his lap than that horrendously oversized creature.)

Mona's comment: I have never read anything as great as this, and I don't think I'll ever read anything as great as this ever again. I want to move into Elle's brain and live there forever.

set my midnight sorrow free (part 1 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated T | 13,439 words | Complete

He doesn’t blame Max, not really. If he could have Charles for one night, he would never let him go either. Maybe he isn’t the one who is losing; Max is also playing a losing game. You can’t open yourself to Charles and try to exist in his charmed life without becoming irrevocably enamoured. When Max let Charles walk into his motorhome, when he let Charles slip into his existence, Max didn’t know it then but the battle was already lost.

we don't know how to rhyme, but damn, we try (part 2 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated M | 4,862 | Complete

He pulls back reluctantly and misses the warm mouth almost immediately. Stars, he was doomed. “I want this too,” he tells Charles. “I don’t believe you.” He can be so infuriating sometimes, so contrarian. Some day, he might actually make Max lose his mind.

even the sun sets in paradise (part 3 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated T | 27,774 words | Complete

If he had to name the place where the story of Max and Charles began, if there was a moment that divided them into Before and After, there would be a few candidates. But there was only one correct answer. He would never forget the name. The place is called Val d’Argenton. Stories are still being written there. Charles likes to tell the story of the incident - turn by turn, infused with poetic drama, detailing every single emotion: frustration, anger, pure spite. Every time he tells it, his smile grows along with the laughter in his eyes, even as his words recount a tale of opposing emotions. “I never want to go back to Val d’Argenton,” Charles once confessed. “We’ll never go back there,” he promised, and Charles knew what he meant.

Mona's comment: This series is such a rollercoaster of emotion, and I don't think I'm still fully recovered from reading it the first time. Elle is a true genius in every way.

p19 by @sennaverstappen Rated E | 5,619 words | Complete

“Charles,” it comes out soft, worried, upset. Charles will light himself on fire. He hears Max take a few steps towards him, feels two warm, winning, arms wrap around his fast-breathing chest. He’s still wearing those golden shoes. Max snuggle into his neck. “I’m here for you.” And Max had won, and he’s winning the season, and he’s P19, and losing this season. And Max is winning, and he’s not even talking about it – choosing to comfort his Charles instead. Every little thought converges into a single, red-hot one. He’s going to fuck the pole sitter so hard he’ll be sore tomorrow. “Max,” he whimpers, trying to find his voice, find his grip, find his footing in this world. Max tightens his grip around his waist. “Yes, angel?” And he can feel Max frown against his nape, soft breath against his earlobe. It turns his body white-hot. “Get on the fucking bed.”

Mona's comment: This one is just *chef's kiss*. Mindblowing. Incredible. Just like its author.

My all-time favorite fics that I've written:

Devil's Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) (part 1 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 55,362 words | Complete

It all started with a crash. Well, technically, it started with a blue-eyed boy with blonde hair getting screamed at in a language he couldn’t understand when he was only 12 years old. He remembered looking at the boy, who couldn’t be much older than himself - (two weeks older, to be exact, he’d learn later) - and watching the spark disappear right out of those icy blue eyes. That was the first memory Charles Leclerc had of Max Verstappen: Watching Jos Verstappen, Max’s own father, scream at this 12 year old child with an intensity that turned his face red and made every blood vessel in his neck look dangerously close to bursting. But if anyone ever were to ask Charles when he started to realize that his feelings towards that same Max Verstappen he had known since childhood had begun to change into something else, something bigger, something terrifying he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - quite put his finger on, he would say that it all started with a crash. Because of fucking course it did.

OR: The slow-burn story of Lestappen that has brought me back from the dead, which starts with Max's crash at Silverstone in 2021.

Like Snow At The Beach (Weird But Fucking Beautiful) (part 2 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 17,064 words | Completed

The wedding of Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen was always going to be a grand affair. Not necessarily because it had been either man’s dream to make a big deal out of getting married, but simply because they knew so many fucking people. And because Charles had mentioned once — in passing, ages ago, long before Max went down on one knee and proposed — that he had driven past a property in Italy he’d found so beautiful that he’d had to stop the car in order to have a proper look, and that upon walking through the grounds of the property, he’d found himself thinking it would have been the perfect venue for a wedding. Max had been hellbent on finding out which property that was ever since.

OR: The lavish wedding sequel to "Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes)" that you've all been (hopefully) waiting for.

Stop (You're Losing Me) (part 3 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 6,399 words | Completed

And now, here they are, with Charles feeling like he’s the only one making any sort of effort to keep their marriage healthy and happy outside of race weekends. He never would have imagined being married to Max could end up feeling so lonely. Another two hours pass before Max comes out into the living room, where Charles is sitting on the couch with a bowl of Andrea-and-Brad approved pad thai from their favorite takeout place just down the street, rewatching Money Heist for what has to be the tenth time. Max stops at the end of the couch, frowning down at the Monégasque. “I thought we were going out for dinner?” Charles looks up at him, face expressionless. “We were.” Max points at the bowl. “But you ordered takeout?” “I did.” “Why?” “Because our reservation was two hours ago, babe, and I was hungry.”

OR: Max and Charles have been married for 3 years, and it turns out marriage isn't always beautiful. Sometimes, it's ugly and tiring and painful.

Mona's comment: This series is what got me back into writing after a 7-year long hiatus from fic writing, and I treasure this series so much because it's what got me to make a Tumblr blog again and fully embrace the F1 fandom after being into F1 for 20 years.

19 Times The Grid Saved Lestappen (And One Time They Didn't Need To) (part 1 of Lestappen + The Grid) co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated M | 16,107 words | Complete

In that exact moment, all Charles wants to do is grab a hold of the front of Max’s stupid Red Bull polo and pull him into a kiss. He’s just about to do it, too, when a pen comes flying out of fucking nowhere, hitting Max smack dab in the face. It brings them both out of their little bubble, and Charles turns to see Lando standing a good distance away from them, already in the process of yeeting another pen in their direction. Charles reaches out to catch it before it can hit Max again, putting his reflexes to good use. Next to Lando, Carlos nods his approval at the catch. “Lando, what the hell?”

OR: Keeping Charles and Max from accidentally outing themselves to the whole world is becoming a full-time job. and Lando decides to enlist the entire grid to help him out.

18 Times Lestappen Tried To Hide Their Relationship (And One Time They Failed) (part 2 of Lestappen + The Grid) co-written with @f1writingbyme

Charles is pretty sure he is going to die of a heart attack at the age of only twenty-six because of all the sneaking around and almost getting caught every time. The only positive thing they have going for them is that they haven't been caught yet. How that's possible, Charles isn't sure, but he thinks it might have something to do with the fact that their friends either aren't paying much attention or are just plain stupid. Charles secretly hopes it's the last one. But of course, luck is not on Charles’ side, as one Mr. Lando Norris, tucked away in the safety of his driver's room on the other side of the paddock, is typing away on his phone.

How (Not) To Third Wheel Lestappen co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated T | 10,344 words | Complete (for now)

Lance doesn’t know which of his emotions is more overpowering; the secondhand embarrassment he feels at how blatantly obvious they’re being, or the fact that watching Max and Charles in their own little world is actually kind of cute. He realizes it’s the secondhand embarrassment as he watches Max shamelessly grin at James and proudly explain that he was just talking to Charles. Lance has to resist the urge to roll his eyes, especially when he notices how Charles is quite literally the embodiment of the heart eyes emoji where he’s standing next to Max for his entire interview. And the beeline Charles makes for Max as soon as he hands the microphone to Lance after his P2 interview is even worse than the heart eyes. He definitely should have been paying attention to that group chat, Jesus fucking Christ.

OR: There is a WhatsApp support group chat on how to deal with being top 3 with Max and Charles. Lance hasn't been paying attention to it at all, and lives to regret it. And then others suffer at the hands of Lestappen as well.

Mona's comment: Writing fics with Ilse is one of my favorite things in the world to do, and I can't even begin to describe how much fun it is to write all our Lestappen + the grid fics.

The Wonders of Valentine's Day (Or Whatever) Rated E | 9,933 words | Complete

Max, having completely lost the ability to speak, just stares at the sight before him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. What the actual fuck? “Hi?” Max phrases it like a question. Charles grins at him. “Hello,” he greets, and Max watches as the grin fades away as Charles’ gaze moves down Max’s body, one eyebrow lifting. It’s only then Max realizes that he never put on pants after his shower, and is standing there in his bright orange Netherlands jersey and black boxers. It takes every ounce of his willpower not to let the internal panic he’s currently experiencing show on his face.

OR: Max isn't a fan of Valentine's Day. Charles is a menace on a mission to change that. Naturally.

Mona's comment: This was just a self-indulgant fic I wrote due to my own dislike towards Valentine's Day, but let me tell you, I had a blast from start to finish while writing this.

The Seasons of Heartbreak co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated T | 14,075 words | Complete

As the ‘I can’t do this anymore’ slipped from his lips, Charles missed his exit and continued straight ahead, unable to fully see the exit sign through his tears. The tears fill his eyes as quickly now as they had done in his car that day, and Charles finds himself realizing that he hasn’t felt happiness since. Not even once.

OR: When two men are hurting from a break-up, they can only use each other to make it right again. But they have to realize that first.

OR: The seasons of heartbreak, seen through the eyes of both Max and Charles.

Mona's comment: The sheer amount of tears shed while writing this, my God.

#Asks #Anon asks #Lestappen fic recs anons #Lestappen fics #Lestappen fic recs

[roses-for-rosalyn]

i desperately need dealer!ellie and her sweet girlfriend (who is also totally a stoner (;). maybe if reader went out of town for a while and ran out of weed, so she got some off of a dealer/from a dispensary in that town. then reader gets home and ellie would be (mostly jokingly) horrified by the weed that wasn't hers, and so on :3

(sorry if this does not make sense, english is not my first language and i've never done an ask before so im a bit nervous :])

Rahhh what an amazing idea!! I'm so honored I was your first ask, also don't be nervous to approach my account this is a safe space for anyone darling 💕 Sorry it took so long to respond!!

the people who like my Ellie content come 'ere, this is a treat for you.

word count: 3.7 k

minors dni (please bro)

cw: sprinkle of fluff (haven't had a productive therapy session in a loong time), mutual masterbation sort of, neck kissing, drug use 🍃, established relationship, dealer! Ellie, strap on use (r! receiving), teasing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, no use of y/n (lmk if I missed anything)

You stand before a familiar rust colored door, contemplating for a moment before you rap your knuckles against the hardwood. You were visiting your girlfriend for the first time in a few weeks–which felt more like a few months. You had gone back home to visit family for a while, and to meet up with some old friends. Naturally being with family was incredibly stressful and you were relieved to be able to return to your girlfriend for multiple reasons: 1) she has weed 2) you were extremely sexually frustrated after being without her for a few weeks 3) you simply missed her company (which you would never explicitly admit to her considering she was a pain in the ass half the time). You had been texting Ellie every day and she never failed to turn the conversation from something wholesome into something incredibly dirty. You would go from talking about your day to shaking, nervous hands trying to type a response without dropping your phone. She could have you aching for her in mere moments simply by stringing together a strategic set of words. It was truly a gift, an oddly specific gift that you were incredibly grateful for when you were separated from her. 

You had told her almost everything about your visit. You failed to mention that being with family got so stressful you met up with your old plug from highschool. You only bought like three prerolls, but for some odd reason you felt like you were being unfaithful to your drug dealer girlfriend. It was something so incredibly silly, but the action just felt…weird. She enjoyed being possessive a lot of the time, mostly because it was fun for her (particularly in bed). Someone might flirt with you at a bar and she would take you home and not let you come until you had said you were hers over and over and over. A combination of nerves and excitement invaded your body every time you thought about telling her. You would imagine her reaction and an ache would immediately grow between your legs. But then another side of you wondered if it might actually bother her, and maybe she wouldn’t react that way. It was a gamble and you were unsure if you felt like risking it. 

The sound of the door opening disrupts your train of thought. As soon as you see Ellie’s face your worries dissolve, you leap towards her, wrap your arms around her tightly and kiss her. You were both smiling so hard your teeth gently knocked together. You lean back, taking her in, you had missed her perfectly placed freckles and familiar green eyes. You kiss her again and again and again, pecking your lips against hers. She moves away from your lips, cups your face and plants gentle kisses on your forehead, cheeks and nose. You giggle and scrunch up your face at the feeling, your cheeks starting to warm. 

She breaks away and rests her forehead against yours, “Hi.” she says breathlessly.

“Hi.” you reply, giggling. “I missed you.” 

“I know, I’m an incredibly amazing person to spend time with, anyone with a brain would miss me.” She smirks, almost challenging you to retaliate. 

Your eyes narrow,  “you know what?’ You scoff, ‘I know you missed me,” a grin forms on your face before you continue, “In fact I have proof of exactly how much you missed me right in my phone.” You lean in, whispering in her ear, “And if you don’t admit it we won’t do anything we talked about while I was away.” 

Ellie smiles, “Ok, Ok I missed you,” she looks down, “you and your perfect tits.” You pull away from her and playfully slap her on the shoulder, poorly pretending to be offended–your giggling gave you away. you could tell she meant it when she said she missed you because she was looking at you with such adoration in her eyes you think you might explode. 

Ellie finally walks away from you to close and lock the door before gently grabbing you by the hand to lead you to the couch. Her hand is so warm and familiar, you squeeze it softly, savoring the feeling. 

She looks back at you, mischief in her eyes “Wanna smoke?” she asks. 

“God, I thought you’d never ask.” You smile, giddy as ever. You eagerly sit down on the couch next to her, close enough so the sides of your thighs touch. You were more needy than usual and Ellie took notice. 

Your eyes move to the coffee table which has various weed related objects strewn about. Ellie had clearly been smoking a bit before you had gotten here. You watch her hands as she leans over the coffee table and begins to expertly roll and pack a joint with her slender fingers. You get lost in her movements, studying the way her hands move so carefully and purposefully. 

She finishes rolling the joint and offers it to you with both her hands, head bowed as if she was bestowing a wondrous gift to you. You giggle at her amusing antics and gently take the blunt from her hands, pinching it between your thumb and pointer finger. Ellie is quick to grab the lighter off the coffee table as you bring it to your lips. You wait for her to burn the tapered end off before wrapping your lips around it and deeply inhaling. Thick smoke fills your mouth, flows into your throat and lungs. The feeling is warm and familiar, ever since you started dating Ellie, smoking stopped burning and started feeling more tingly. It was a sort of comforting feeling- knowing your body would eventually relax and your thoughts would become muted. Your eyes instinctively close as you breathe out, a smile forming on your lips. 

“Wow, you really missed smoking huh?” Ellie laughs at your dramatic display. 

“Well I didn’t exactly go completely without it, but I missed your shit, this is actually good.” You look down, sigh and take another small hit. You offer the joint back to Ellie and look up at her, trying to read her expression. Her appearance doesn’t give anything away as she takes it from you and takes a long hit. Her eyes stay on yours as she exhales, all you can do is stare back, your eyes frantically searching hers for any hint of anger or jealousy. 

“Where’d you get the other shit from?” Her tone is completely flat. “Wasn’t from me was it?” she pinches her eyebrows together, trying to recall if she sent you off with anything. 

“No, no. I got really stressed and I was desperate for any type of relief sooo I messaged my old plug from highschool.” You let out a short laugh. Ellie hands the spliff back to you calmly.

“Was it any good?” She tilts her head and watches as you take a long hit before answering.

“Pretty good, but nothing compared to your shit babe.” You smile as you exhale and hand the joint back to her. She takes it and puts it out, her expression remaining scarily blank. She was obviously planning something in that brain of hers. 

She hums and nods looking down at the coffee table. She sits up and finally looks at you, pats your thigh and mumbles “come ‘ere.” You do as she says and adjust yourself so you're straddling her. “Cheating on your drug dealer who is also your girlfriend huh?” She shakes her head, “Bad idea.” Her expression turns into a wicked smirk. 

You laugh “No I-” 

She interrupts, “Uh, uh, I don’t want to hear any excuses.” 

“But I-”

“You’ll have to make it up to me princess.” Her voice lowers, a suggestive tone lacing it. The way she said it, dominance dripping from her words sent butterflies straight to your cunt. 

“Whatever you want, Ellie.” you say in your most submissive voice, hoping it will convince her to take mercy on you. You know she’s gonna make you ache tonight one way or another. She smirks and kisses you. She opens up your mouth with her tongue, the kiss this time was different; it was hungrier, her tongue roughly massages against yours and she groans at the feeling. You move your hands down to the hem of her sweatshirt and tug. You break away for a moment to throw her sweatshirt across the room leaving her in a white tank top. She grabs the hem of your t-shirt and does the same, leaving you bare for her. 

You hadn’t worn a bra in anticipation for tonight and it definitely paid off. Ellie wasn’t expecting it and stared for a moment, your nipples beginning to harden from being exposed to the cool air in her apartment. You can’t help but giggle at her ogling, but the giggle is quickly cut off once she latches her mouth onto your sensitive nipple. Her warm tongue swirls around your hard bud and you gasp at the feeling, threading your fingers into her hair. She brings up one of her hands to begin playing with the other breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between her thumb and index finger. The feeling was even more intense from the weed, her actions sent arousal straight to your cunt. She takes her time, licking and sucking until she’s satisfied. You're a panting mess after mere moments, mumbling breathless obscenities as she has her way with you. She moves to the other nipple and you have begun grinding against her to try and relieve the ache that had now grown painful between your legs. She removes her mouth, before moving up your body. She kisses along your clavicle taking her time, sucking and licking as she moves. She made her way to your neck and latched on to the sensitive skin causing you to moan. She is slow and methodical, purposefully trying to mark you up. You didn’t mind, you kind of liked the bruises she would leave behind. Your heightened senses deliciously exaggerate the feeling of her warm tongue on your skin, while also making the ache in your cunt almost unbearable considering everything was sensitive. 

“Ellie please.” you whimper, wanting her to do anything to satiate your sore cunt. 

“Please what, Princess?” She asks between kisses. 

“Ellie” you whine out, frustrated beyond belief. She hums and grabs your thighs, wrapping them around her waist, then your arms to wrap them around her neck before standing up and walking you both to the bedroom. She continues teasing you with her tongue, touching you everywhere, but where you need her. She lowers you down to sit on the edge of the bed and you break away from her to back into the middle and lay down. She raises her eyebrows at your eagerness, but crawls on top of you and kisses you, her tongue intertwining with yours, her leg in between yours rising higher and higher… before she pulls back. You frown and tilt your head in confusion.

Ellie smirks and raises her eyebrows, “Oh, you thought I was gonna make this easy?” She lets out a dry laugh at your desperation. She finds it cute, but not cute enough to give in and give you what you want. 

“But I just got back-” 

“And what did you do while you were gone?” She tilts her head questioning you. “You gave me a reason to make this difficult for you,” she answers her own question before leaning in so close you can feel her breath tickle the shell of your ear and whispers, “And you know how much I love an excuse to make things difficult for you.” The bass of her voice invertebrates through your body sending tingles down your spine. 

“F-fine,” You try to sound confident, but she has you in pieces underneath her. “What do you want?” At your question Ellie sits up kneeling over you.

“Get up.” You sit up slowly as she gets off the bed and you follow. You stand in front of her, chest heaving from arousal, eyes shining with desperation and Ellie almost scraps her whole plan for the night. She grabs the hem of your shorts and gently lowers them past your hips, letting them slip to the floor. She does the same with your underwear, all the while you stand still, allowing her to have her way with you. Ellie unbuttons her jeans and lowers them to the floor, her tank top following. You can’t help but stare, her sports bra doesn’t do much to conceal her hardened nipples, her toned abs and arms practically made you drool. She rests her hands on your hips and takes a moment to admire your bare body. “So beautiful, baby.” Ellie breathes out before planting a gentle kiss to your shoulder. You smile at her and she smiles back, then she walks towards the head of the bed, grabbing one of the pillows and putting it in the middle of the bed. You're confused until she gestures for you to sit on the bed. Oh. 

You crawl on to the bed and straddle the pillow, facing the head of the bed. Ellie moves to the top of the bed, gently grabs your hips and encourages you to lower down on to the pillow, you put your hands on top of hers and start to sink down. Once your sensitive clit contacts the soft fabric of the pillow you let out a small gasp. Subconsciously, you start rocking back and forth on the pillow, so needy and overstimulated you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your eyes start to close from the delicious pressure on your clit.

“That’s it princess, just like that.” You let out a little whine and continue rutting against the pillow, chasing relief. After a moment you realized the pillow wasn’t going to be enough, you needed more. You move your hand from Ellies and start to bring it down between your legs. She grabs your hand and tuts “uh, uh you’re going to move just like this,” She nods to you, “until I say. Not any faster, not any slower.” 

“But-” 

“You didn’t seem to want me enough,” She shrugs, “so I’m gonna make you need me.” You let out a quiet moan at her words. She was intoxicating when she was like this, you loved it and hated it at the same time. 

Ellie lets go of your hips and you do as she says, keeping a steady rhythm against the pillow. Once she watches you for a moment she leans back onto the pillows one leg bent, the other straightened out in front of her. And she just…watches, staring you right in the eyes, she doesn’t plan on touching you or helping you in any way. Fine if she was going to watch, you were going to give her a show. A show good enough to get her to give in–hopefully. You begin letting out little whines and gasps as you move fluidly against the pillow. You maintain eye contact as you let your moans build, your clit being teased from the fabric. She groans “Keep moving just like that Princess.” Your eyes follow Ellie’s hand as it slowly starts to move between her legs, palming at her clothed cunt. 

The action immediately sent a wave of arousal to your needy pussy. “Ffuck, Ellie.” you whine out, letting your head fall back and eyes close. Your moans grow a little louder, pleasure slowly building in your stomach. You look back at Ellie, her chest is heaving as her hand moves a little faster against the fabric of her underwear. She is looking down, watching you fuck the pillow, both of you longing for the pillow to be Ellie. You decide to boldly move one of your hands to your breast, cupping and massaging the soft skin. She doesn’t protest, only watches you in awe. You could tell she was on the verge of giving in. You start moving your fingers around your nipple teasing the sensitive bud, before pinching  and rolling it between your fingers. You moan loudly at the sensation and begin to move faster against the pillow. Ellie gets up quickly and grabs her strap from the night stand. You let out a sigh and halt your motions, feeling relief flow through your body. 

Ellie looks back at you “Did I say you could stop?” 

“N-no but-” You stop talking once Ellie tilts her head, silently challenging you. You start moving again, whining a little bit at the feeling of your sore clit rubbing against the soft fabric. You watch as Ellie adjusts the harness. Taking her time to secure it, you would almost be pissed off if you had any room for any emotion besides complete and utter desperation. 

Finally Ellie moves behind you on the bed, she caresses your shoulders, moving her hands up and down and kisses the side of your neck. You are still desperately humping the pillow as she said, waiting desperately for her to say the word. “Ellie please.” The desperation in your voice is pathetic, but you were reduced to a puddle from her literal torture. 

“Come and then I’ll let you stop.” She whispers in your ear.

“Ellie I can’t, it’s not enough I need more please.” She moves her hands to your breasts and begins cupping and massaging the tender skin. Once she starts teasing your overstimulated nipples your head falls back on her shoulder and you moan her name. She starts sucking and kissing your neck and that was all you needed. The pleasure in your stomach finally started to build to a peak. You start rutting your hips faster, chasing your high. 

“Come for me baby.” Ellie breathes into your ear. At her words your orgasm hits you, your pleasure coming to a satisfying peak after the relentless teasing. You buck against the pillow over and over, riding out your climax. “Good girl.” Ellie says as she continues teasing your nipples. When you start to come down Ellie immediately guides you so your upper body is laying against the bed, still straddling the pillow. She grabs the pillow and puts it underneath your hips, giving her a perfect view of your swollen, dripping cunt. You suddenly feel her fingers running up your slit, gathering your arousal, before shoving two fingers inside your soaked cunt. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, tightening around her fingers. “So perfect for me baby.” Ellie says before starting to move her fingers, curling them up against that perfect spongy spot inside of you. You moan as she moves her fingers in and out of you perfectly. She removes her fingers from you and you feel her begin to guide it against your soaked pussy, nudging your clit as she moves her hips forward. You moan into the sheets as she moves her hips back and forth a few times, grazing your clit each time. The strap was coated in your juices after mere moments. You were almost dripping down your thighs, clenching around nothing as Ellie teased you. She massaged the silicone cock, coating it with your arousal, before teasing your entrance with the very tip. You groan as it stretches your tight cunt. She moves slowly, opening you up with the thick black cock. 

“Oh god.” you moan as she moves deeper into you. 

“Relax for me baby. You can take it.” Ellie assures you. You relax, allowing her to sink all the way into your tight cunt. You whimper as she bottoms out, feeling a painfully pleasurable pressure in your pussy. She grabs your wrists and holds them together with one hand and places the other on your hip. She starts to fuck you mercilessly, not giving you any time to adjust, forcing a pathetic “fuckfuckfuck.” out of your swollen lips. Ellie begins grunting at every thrust from the effort, but keeps her pace. The harness was rubbing against her clit perfectly, her ache being soothed as well as yours. 

“God I fuckin missed this pussy baby, missed using you however I wanted like this.” You moan at her words, you loved it when she used you however she wanted. “Such a good girl for me.” She begins moving faster, getting lost in her pleasure. She uses her grip on your wrists to pull her cock deeper into you, causing you to moan at every thrust. Ellie could tell you were already close.

“You can come as many times as you want, princess, but I’m not stopping until I’m done.” You started to come undone, your orgasm ripping through you as Ellie fucks you through it. Waves of pleasure wash over you and you moan so loudly, you are sure the neighbors heard, hell maybe the whole neighborhood. You start to come down, but Ellie doesn’t let up, you whine as she continues to pound into your overstimulated cunt. You whine out her name and she reaches under you to lift you upwards, your body flush against hers. She slowly moves her hand down your stomach, you can tell what she’s doing “Ellie I can’t-” 

She pauses, “You can take it, give me one more baby.” You nod and she moves her hand to your clit and starts rubbing it in small controlled circles. She uses her other hand to tease your nipples and you’re already close again, muttering obscenities and letting your head rest on her shoulder. Ellie begins panting and moaning in your ear as she thrusts into you, reaching her high as well. Her hips start moving sloppily and she breathes out “Come for me.” before coming undone herself. You let go, your moans syncing with Ellie’s as her thrusts become slower and less controlled. Your body completely submerges into your pleasure, your hips rocking back into Ellie’s mindlessly. You can barely hold yourself up any more as pleasure washes over you. Ellie holds you against her as you lose your strength. She pulls out of you slowly and lowers you down to sit on your knees as she removes the strap, throwing it to the side. You turn around to face her and smile lazily, she smiles back and kisses you softly. She lowers you onto the bed as she continues kissing you. You collapse into the soft pillows, every bone in your body giving out. 

“I missed you.” You barely manage to whisper.

“I missed you too.”

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you

[mystic-writings]

tangled up (in strings of emotion) | wilbur soot

PAIRING – wilbur soot x fem!streamer!reader, implied wilbur x shubble

REQUEST – anon - Hi! ok so, i had a very angsty idea. basically, we all know how wilbur had a crush on shubble? basically, my idea is that wilbur and streamer!reader have been dating for a while and the internet loves them (as they should) and reader and shubble are good friends like reader, shubble and niki are all like an iconic trio, but then wilbur starts to distance from reader and spend more time with shubble and you know who catches on first? james. and then jack figures it out, and tommy and niki and the band all have it figured out and niki (i love niki more than life itself) tells reader and the readers like “fuck you, it’s me or her william.” with prompt 9 from “angst prompt 2”?? i feel like that would be really really cool and your angst is absolutely *chefs kiss* :) if you don’t wanna do it that’s fine! just a thought, have a lovely day!!

PROMPT – 9. “don’t make me choose.”

SUMMARY –  you finally find out why your relationship with wilbur is falling apart, even if you didn’t see the signs. 

WARNINGS – angst, hurt/no comfort, tw cheating mentions

WORD COUNT – 2,720

NOTES – i listened to haunted by tswift the entire time i wrote this bc it matches so well tbh | first fic of 2024 & no surprise, it’s ANGST !!

masterlist | taglist form

How have you been so blissfully ignorant all this time?

These past few years of your life, the ones you once looked back upon as the best of your life thus far, were tainted with a dark stain. 

You don’t know how you missed it. All the signs were there, but maybe you were just too happy to believe that something could’ve been wrong in the first place. 

Being a streamer, and a successful one at that, was a blessing you never thought you’d have. It led you to all of your best friends, and to your boyfriend of nearly three years. Wilbur Soot, more commonly known now as Will Gold, who you met through your friends Niki and Shelby. It felt like it was fate, meeting him. You were at a point in life where things just felt sour all the time, and you barely had the energy to create content at the time. Then, around the beginning of January 2020, Niki asked if you wanted to make a video with her, Philza, and Wilbur, and from there things were history. 

After starting dating over the internet for a while, and with the lockdowns coming and going frequently, you and Wilbur met for the first time in his tiny flat in London. It was amazing, spending that time together, just the two of you. Deciding to make things public and when was a tough decision, but you thought it would be safer to do so after you took the jump and moved to England. You’d never forget that conversation, sitting on your kitchen counter at 4am.

“And you’re sure you want to do that?” Wilbur asked. “I mean, moving here, moving across the country just so we can be together it’s- it’s-” 

“A big step, Will. I know. But it’s been almost a year, you know. Restrictions are lifting soon. And I want to be with you. I want to be able to see Tommy and Phil and Niki and Jack easier. I want to be happy.” You told him. “I know I have Shelby here, and I love her with everything I have, but she’s the only thing here and it’s just not enough anymore. I need you.” 

After a long, anxiety-inducing silence, Wilbur sighed. “I know. I need you too. I just want to make sure you’re making the right decision here, you know? I don’t want you to have gone through all that trouble just to get here and find you don’t like it, or something happens and you have to go back, anyway.”

You shook your head, even though your boyfriend couldn’t see you. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, Wilbur. I know what I want. And besides, there’s no place on Earth I wouldn’t live if it meant I could live with you.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“You should go to sleep. It’s almost 5 in the morning. You need rest.” Wilbur told you, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“I know, I know. I’ll talk to you later, though. I promise.” 

“Alright, darling. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Will.”

And it was after a long, unnecessarily stressful process with customs and gathering the right papers, that you finally moved in with Wilbur, who began renting an apartment in Brighton not long after the process began. 

Over a several-week-long process, you met all of your best friends in person for the first time, and it was the best few weeks of your life. Niki especially was excited to meet you, and she was one of the first to do so. 

Life for the next year or so was amazing to say the least. Yours and Wilbur’s respective careers were taking off, his in music and yours in streaming and on YouTube. Everything was coming out on top for the both of you, and for all of your friends. 

Until now, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time. 

You and Wilbur had been travelling for his tour for a while now, both of you putting off streaming to travel with the rest of Lovejoy for their very first American tour. Christmas was closing in, and you were in California, visiting Shelby, Quackity, and a ton of other friends that you hadn’t seen in a long time. 

Wilbur’s show was amazing, as per usual, and you and Shelby spent the whole night glued to one another. Will, like he normally did during the performances when you were in the crowd, kept tossing loving glances your way for most of the set. He even dragged Quackity on stage to cover a song with him. It was truly amazing. 

The trip to see your friends, and the rest of the tour overall, was amazing. After it ended and you all went back to England, you noticed a shift in Wilbur’s behaviour. At first you assumed it was just work stress and post-tour burnout of sorts, but soon it became very apparent that it wasn’t directed at anyone but you. 

You spent a lot of time around Wilbur and your friends, as group hangouts became very common since you were both gone for so long. They were normally hosted at Tommy’s flat or James’, sometimes Jack’s house or round yours. It was always fun, though, and that’s what mattered.

Streams became frequent again, both solo and with whoever was available at the time, planned or not. You even did a subathon for your birthday that lasted a week and a half. You invited everyone in the area to come over for cake, called those who were too far away and everything; it truly was a wonderful birthday. 

Content creation was always unpredictable, and everyone’s lives were hectic, so you weren’t too surprised when Shelby stopped communicating with you as frequently over the next few months. The summer of 2023 seemed to be busy for everyone, including yourself. 

You were helping Tommy with his tours and upcoming plans, and your own plans for the future had you being pulled every which way. Wilbur even bought a house for the two of you, despite the rift that was still forming between the two of you. He spent most nights in his office, playing video games or working on music. 

Still, even with the distance between you, you never would’ve guessed that the others could see it, too. 

It started with James giving you odd looks whenever you’d excuse Wilbur’s lack of presence at hangouts, even when they were at your house. Then Niki, who asked if you were okay on more than one occasion. Then Jack, who came to you about an editing problem and brought up how you hadn’t mentioned Wilbur in a little while, and whose mood seemed to sully when you shrugged and told him it was because he was very busy right now. Then one by one, it seemed everyone was catching onto it, and you nearly shouted at them to leave you alone, because it was your relationship and you didn’t see any problems.

Even if Wilbur barely slept in the same bed as you anymore. Even if he rarely ever touched or kissed you anymore.

Niki. Poor, unfortunate Niki, was the first to find out why. She never told you how, or who told her, but she was the only one who knew. She came to you with it on a beautiful Friday afternoon, a day where you both decided to not stream in favour of a nice, relaxing afternoon in your backyard, drinking coffee at a little table in your garden, full of flowers and flourishing at your hand and hard work. 

She’d seemed off to you the entire time she was there, quietly sipping on her second cup of coffee and admiring the flowers. 

“Are you okay, Niki?” You’d asked, eyeing her with concern. 

Her eyes snapped to yours from the peonies beside her. “What? I’m fine, Y/n, don’t worry.” 

“You sure?” You asked. “You seem… off. Like something’s bothering you. If you want to talk, we can, I mean, we’ve been friends for long enough that you can tell me anything you want. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot.” She stated, fiddling with her fingers. Her stature was small, eyes attempting to steer clear of your gaze and finding solace in her mug. “I just- I don’t know if you’ll like what I have to say, and I don’t want to hurt you. You’re my best friend.” 

You smiled gently at the girl. “Don’t worry, Niki. If there’s something you need to tell me, I’m sure I can handle it. You can’t hurt me that badly.” 

Your smile faltered when Niki’s weary eyes met yours. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I only found out last night, and I hate to be the one to tell you, especially because it’s not any of my business, I just felt that you needed to know, I-”

“Niki, calm down,” you reached out to place your hand atop hers, and she turned it over to grip it in return. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Wilbur.” She sighed, and your heart rate skyrocketed. “I know why he’s not acting himself around you.” 

“Is he okay? I mean, he’s healthy right?” You asked. “Why wouldn’t he tell me this himself?”

“Because he didn’t want you to know.” She said, tears forming in her eyes. “He’s not sick or anything, Y/n. He’s… he’s in love with someone else.” 

The world around you could’ve set fire and you wouldn’t have known. Niki’s words rang in your ears, and your heart plummeted from the place in your chest, as if Wilbur himself had dropped it from the safe place you put it; right into his hands. 

“With who? Do I know her?”

Niki only nodded, sniffling and blinking away her tears while yours threatened to fall. After a long silence and a heavy sigh, she squeezed your hand again and opened her mouth, her next words coming out shakily. “It’s… Y/n, it’s Shelby.”

You pulled your hand from hers. “What?”

“They’ve been talking for months now. She told me last night and I haven’t spoken to her since then,” Niki swore. “She said she feels bad for doing this to you, especially because she rejected Wilbur for a long time and you’re best friends. I guess she couldn’t stop herself after a while. I don’t know. All she said was that Wilbur initiated it.” 

“She still participated.” You said, words lined with tears. “Do you know how long he’s been… been pursuing her?”  You nearly gagged on the words. 

Niki nodded. “Since the LA performance in December.” 

Somehow, your heart fell further than it did before. 

Finding out was a blessing and a curse, really. Everything started to make sense once you truly thought it over. All those nights holed up in his office lately, the distance that formed after the tour ended. Those loving glances during the LA show. Somehow, you could tell now that they weren’t for you. 

After you talked and cried more about it with Niki, she left to go tend to her cats in her apartment, and offered a place to stay if you needed it. 

You spent hours on the couch, anxiously awaiting Wilbur’s return from the studio. Your stomach turned with the thought that he could be on the phone with Shelby right now, chatting and making her laugh and telling her how much he felt for her. You almost broke when you wondered if he’d ever told her he loved her. 

Finally, well after sundown, the door creaked open and shut. In walked Wilbur, guitar case gripped in one hand, shoulders sagging from the weight of the day. 

“Hello, love.” You said, barely looking at him, words cold as ice.

He tossed a quick glance at you. “Hi, darling. How was your day?”

“Good.” You said, watching him lean the guitar against the arm of the couch, lazily kissing your head as he did. 

Somehow, after all these months of being emotionally distant, Wilbur could tell something was wrong. “You okay?” He asked as he headed to the kitchen on the opposite side of the house. 

With a sigh, you stood up and clenched your fists. Might as well get it over with. “What’s going on with you lately, Will?”

His brows furrowed as he stopped in the doorway, turning to face you. “What d’you mean? I’m fine, darling.” 

“No you’re not.” You said. “You’ve been distant, and for a while now. You’ve been borderline avoiding me. It’s like you’re not even in a relationship with me! Like you don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore! Did you know our friends have noticed? Every time I show up to a gathering without you they ask what’s wrong. Where you are. And I have nothing to say because I didn’t think anything was wrong.”

Wilbur sighed, face scrunched with indignation. “That’s because nothing’s wrong. I’m just busy.”

“Really? What, busy talking to Shelby?”

Wilbur’s face fell, the colour going with it. 

“Yeah, don’t act surprised, Will. I know.” You said, the emotion finally flowing back to you. “I know you’ve been seeing my best friend behind my back. I know you’ve been pursuing her for a year. Niki told me. She said you’ve been after Shelby, wearing her down, trying to get her to go behind everyone’s back. After all this time, after everything we’ve been through, and you cheat on me with her of all people? My best friend. The woman who helped introduce us and you didn’t think I’d find out at some point?” 

“Look, it’s not what you think, I just-” 

“Just what, Wilbur?” You asked, biting back a sob. “Just wanted to use me to get to her? I don’t even know why you asked me out in the first place. I knew you had a crush on her before we started dating.” You breathed a shaky sigh, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I guess I was just naive enough to think you’d gotten over it. Maybe you did, for a little while.”

“I swear, it’s nothing like that, Y/n. I love you, I do.” He pleaded. “Just let me explain everything, please.” 

“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe you, Wilbur. You bought a house for us! I moved here for you! We were building a life together! And you tore it all down for her!” You screamed. The neighbours could probably hear you by now, but you didn’t care. You needed to let everything out. “I left my family behind, my life behind for you. That’s how much I love you. I guess you just don’t love me enough to do the same.” 

“Y/n, don’t- I love you, too. We can fix this, I swear. I promise.” 

“Fuck you.” You spat, catching Wilbur off guard. “You don’t love me. Not enough to cheat on me with one of my best friends. So fuck you, William. It’s me or her. You don’t get to have us both. I won’t put myself through that.”

Wilbur’s eyes filled with emotion, with indecision. “Don’t. Please, Y/n, don’t make me choose.”

You stepped closer to him, fury burning through you. “Fine, then I will. I don’t know what the hell you thought you could do when you got yourself into this, but you’re sure as hell not gonna keep dating me.”

Before Wilbur could speak, you were marching upstairs to your bedroom – the room you spent more time in than Wilbur did – texting Niki on your way to pack a bag. Your heart was crumbling to dust in your chest, and the emotion was finally replacing whatever temporary anger you felt, crashing through you like waves, putting out the fire within you. 

Wilbur begged and pleaded as you packed your bag, but you didn’t listen. You just packed whatever was necessary, whatever you could think to bring for the night. You’d come back for the rest later. 

15 minutes later, after a quiet Uber ride, you were sitting in Niki’s living room, crying and wondering what you were going to do next. Because you changed your life for Wilbur, and it was his reckless betrayal that tore it all down around you. 

forever taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality@mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

wilbur soot taglist: open!

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot angst #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader

[imagine-that-100]

Chicken Shop Date | Part 9 |

By @imagine-that-100​​ and @alovesreading​​

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

Word Count: 38.8k

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

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. No. No. 

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

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

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

This is a cruel form of torture. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Settle fucking Down. Holy shit Matthew! 

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

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

You better do that high note!!

Do that fucking high note you slut!!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Play this song more often!

Menswear goddddd!!! 

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

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

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

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

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

SELLING PETROLLLLLLLLL

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

Your fave essential oil lmfao 

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

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

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

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

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

Definitely like you better when you take off your clothes 😜 

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

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

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

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

NOT ABOUT YOU 

MATTHEW TIMOTHY HEALY 

WHAT THE FUCKKKKK

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

You can’t leave it there. 

Are you kidding?????? 

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

Hate you x

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

Christ I hope you left your phone backstage lollll sorryyyyy xxxx 

Message me when you can xx Really proud of you xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yes she’s drunk

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

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

I can arrange compensation for you 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He loves you.

God, he loves you so damn much. 

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

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

~*~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I see how it is.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowns a little, “My fault?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, “She wasn’t at the party?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Simp.” He quips, pushing himself up the bed so he can kneel on the mattress as he takes his top off. He comes back down with a smirk growing on his face, and when he’s merely an inch away from your face, he lets out a chuckle that hits your parted mouth.

Raising a brow, you take the chance to tease him back, playfully correcting his word choice, “Horny, more like.” Emphasising it by letting your eyes shamelessly go down his naked chest and taking in every inch of his skin, the sight just makes your mouth water and your brain fill with the most sinful thoughts so you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to muffle a moan.

With a shake of his head, your boyfriend resumes his attack on your lips, both of you giggling as he does. Soon the giggles die though when his fingers become more intent with their hold on your jaw, making you moan in response but when you go to continue relishing on that delicious friction you’ve created by rolling your hips on his thigh, you find he’s purposely moved his leg away. 

You whimper at the loss, almost like the start of a tantrum and he knows exactly why that is. The smirk that breaks on his face makes it impossible to continue kissing, yet you’re still desperately leaving wet kisses on his lips, before guiding them down his jaw and neck.

Your focus has been entirely taken by wanting to mark him up, to hear those addictive moans of his, to feel him shudder when you get to that sweet spot at the bottom of his throat; but you’re completely distracted from your task when his hand snakes down your body, into your joggers and he feels how wet he’s already made you. 

Mewling against his lips as he starts drawing circles on your clit through your soaked underwear, your small begs are thankfully heard. Your boyfriend moves the material that's separating him from you to the side and teases your clit again. 

You choke on your breath, the pleasure feeling more intense with your muscles relaxed and mind numbed from the weed combined with you not having been with him in a week. It’s all a little much, yet you need more.  

And you’re glad you’ve reached the point where you don’t even have to ask for what you want, he already knows. It’s sweet relief when after a minute Matty drops his hand and sinks two fingers inside you, euphoria taking over, the stretch so sweet you roll your hips trying to get more.

A loud moan gets stuck in your throat, your head thrown back and your mouth agape, your eyes rolling back into your head and your back arching when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot perfectly, “F-fuckkk, Matty.”

“Right there baby?” He asks breathlessly, his own mouth opening agape just watching as you begin to crumble beneath him.

You hum, your eyes shutting tight and biting your lip as he starts picking up the pace. Your voice all pleasure stricken and raspy, “Oh fuck- Yes. Feels so good, baby.” 

Your arm wraps around his neck, nails digging in the flesh of his shoulder to keep him right there, not that he was going to move when he had you becoming a mess for him like that.

Matty leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, wishing he had taken off your hoodie to bite and suck and lick your tits, he could see your chest heaving and sweat coating your forehead, hair sticking to it as you gasp in pleasure.

“So fucking pretty, sound so sweet for me baby.” He mumbles in your ear, his hot breath making you shiver and clench around his skilled fingers. His voice still low as he praises,  “You like that? My sweet, gorgeous girl.”

There’s no shame in you that could have you denying that, you nod and it’s almost missable if it wasn’t for your soft hum of confirmation. Matty smiles, kissing you sweetly again as he presses the heel of his palm against your clit, sparking the pleasure that runs up your spine.

You’re drenching his hand already, the coil in your lower stomach tightening with each stroke of his calloused fingers. It’s not long that you've been together, but he already knows you so well, easily having you falling apart for him in just a few minutes. 

Stretching you out further, he adds a third finger and this time, your loud cries of pleasure come out of you with ease. It makes kissing him impossible, when so overcome with the euphoria running through your body, making you buzz with ecstasy, all you can do is whine for him.

Matty’s hot breath mixes with yours, your parted mouths right next to each other, your half lidded eyes trying to stay open so you can hold his gaze as you grow closer to your orgasm. A buildup that only gets more intense when he starts rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb as he continues pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt. 

“Baby you’re so wet for me. Makes me wanna taste you.” He whines, sharing his lustful thoughts with you, his lips pressing kisses at the edge of your parted mouth. You whimper in response, almost drooling in pleasure at the thought of that tongue of his dipping into your cunt and flicking your clit until you cum all over his face. “Gonna make you cum on my fingers first though. You’re so fucking good to me, you deserve to cum on them, no?”

“Yes.” You pant out desperately, licking your lips and nodding your head to agree with him. Tugging on his curls harder, you quietly plead, “Please baby. Feels so good.”

He hums and smiles to himself, his hips grinding softly against your thigh in an attempt to relieve himself as you’ve made him so hard. He finds his search for relief through you though, needing to make you feel every ounce of pleasure before he gets any. He kisses down your jaw, and hums into your ear, “I know, baby. You’re gonna cum, yeah? Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

Your walls clench around him as he continues with his filthy words, nodding to say that you will, silently promising to do nothing but be good for him. He can feel you so close to the edge and he will not stop until he has you convulsing beneath him, he whispers, “Drench my hand baby.”

You mewl as you start rocking your hips more intently, meeting him in the middle, fucking yourself on his fingers and your legs begin shaking as you near your climax. The filthy whispers coming from your boyfriend only pushing you closer and closer to your inevitable release. 

It’s not long before you’re letting yourself fall over the edge and fall apart beneath him entirely. Your brows furrow and your lips part to let out the prettiest moans he swears he’s ever heard, your back arching and making your chest press flush with his so he can feel your pebbled nipples through the fabric of your hoodie. Your legs shake and close to trap his hand there, but he uses his legs to keep you spread apart so he can ride your orgasm out. 

Blood rushes down to Matty’s cock, as if getting harder was even possible, but he moans back at the feeling and the sight and the way you entirely come to take over his senses. A warmth coats his insides and he can so easily pinpoint the feeling as it contrasts yet compliments the hunger and the need for you that burns within him.

When you fall limp on the mattress after properly coming down from your high, your boyfriend brings his slick coated fingers up to his mouth and lets out a low, pornographic moan when he tastes you. He does his best to clean his fingers up with his tongue, not wanting to waste a drop of your arousal and all he can think about is how he wants more. He needs more.

But first, he takes on the task of ridding you of your clothes. You’re sweating and there’s a hint of discomfort in your face that he attributes to feeling too hot so he takes your hoodie off first, throwing it somewhere behind him and then he moves back to peel your joggers from you.

The sight of your ruined underwear makes his mouth water, wanting nothing more than to taste you properly again. He dips down and starts kissing up your thighs, drinking in the way your legs continue to shake with his ghostly touch. Every exhale that hits your skin makes you shiver and the tingles that run up your spine from his proximity now that you’re so sensitive makes him want to push yourself over the edge again. 

So much so that when Matty gets closer to your cunt, he asks, “Can I have a taste, baby?” 

He’s almost hurt when you shake your head no and pull his hair to bring him back up to your face. Moving back up, you see he’s frowning like he’s despaired over the denied opportunity to eat you out and have more of your taste on his tongue. 

It makes you giggle, in return breaking his pout, and you cup his face carefully and you pull him in for a kiss that just screams thank you before you demand, “I need you to fuck me.”

The tone in which you say it makes it sound like a plea and Matty groans longingly hearing your wishes. There’s nothing he’d ever deny you, ever. And if you’re to ask for anything, he’d give you only the best. 

And so he’s intent with the way he kisses you. His tongue meets yours instantly and makes you loudly mewl when you taste yourself on it. His fingers digging in the flesh of your waist whilst his other hand comes to wrap around your neck, keeping you in place and eliciting more moans out of your when he presses on the sides so he’s deliciously choking you. 

You’re so sensitive though, you don’t think you can take any more without him being buried deep inside you so the moment he breaks the kiss and pulls back for oxygen, you beg, “Baby please, I need you.” Your hands cup his face with desperation that seeps through your pores, you whine, “Need you please, baby please.”

The guttural groan that rumbles from his chest and up his throat makes you clench around nothing. His lips come back on yours with force, it just screams passion and need, desperation to translate every feeling rushing through him in a way that you can understand without having to say those words he so badly wants to utter.

“My baby’s so fucking good, she says please.” He praises, his hand falling from your neck to join the other one on your waist and lifting your top up and off you so he can have you on show for him. “My baby’s so fucking beautiful and she’s all mine.”

His hot mouth instantly catches one of your nipples, your back arches in pleasure. One of your hands cradles the back of his head to keep him there as he sucks and flicks on your nipple, biting it before moving onto the next one, leaving you a moaning mess beneath him. Your other hand has a white knuckle grip on the sheets beside you, as you writhe under him becoming wetter than you already were after your orgasm and sending you into a frenzy as you feel your oversensitive self start going in the direction of another orgasm. 

It isn’t only his mouth and his touch that’s ruining you, it’s those words of his leaving you dizzy. You had no idea it could get better than before but right now it’s proving that wrong and you don’t know how to gather your bearings when it comes to it. So you let yourself go, of your fears and any inhibitions. 

“Baby, I need you.” You beg in between pants, “Please. You.” You don’t think you’d ever need anybody else. It’s him, and it’ll always be. You’re sure of it.

In a haste to prove that your wish is his command, Matty lets go of the skin he was attacking with a pop, licking it as if to soothe the abuse that is probably going to end up in a bruise. He starts a wake of kisses up your chest and neck until he finds your lips again and he kisses you with a sense of devotion that could make you shed tears. It’s reciprocated and he knows, in the way you hold him and how your body responds to him, the way you take your time and indulge in the feeling, the way your eyes flutter close and you sigh in utter bliss when he holds you. 

When Matty breaks the kiss so he can shed himself of his last piece of clothing, he watches as your eyes shine with adoration and he swears his heart explodes in his chest. His heartbeat is erratic and a mess, entirely out of control under your spell, just like he is as you’ve bewitched him, body and soul. All he can see, hear, breathe or feel is you and he finds that being entirely drunk on you is nothing but a dream. A dream he wishes to never wake up from. He loves you so so much. 

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby.” He promises as he hovers over you again, his joggers now discarded somewhere in the room. He’s propped himself up with his forearm pressed on the mattress and his other hand comes to wrap around his length, bringing it to meet your core and rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “My baby deserves it, yeah? Always so good to me.”

He watches as the precum on the tip of his cock mixes with your arousal and the sight is so lewd he could bust right then and there. But you snap him out of his trance, feeling like he’s doing this to taunt you, “Matty- Baby, please.”

There’s no actual worded answer, since he just captures you in another kiss but it is brief for when he lines himself up and starts sinking into you, your mouths go slack and you can’t do much more than moan into each other’s mouths. Matty goes slowly until he bottoms out and when you’re filled to the brim of him, you let out a shaky breath. 

Brushing the curls that are sticking to his sweaty forehead with a loopy smile, “Move baby, please. Need you.”

You’re still so sensitive and he can see it from the way your legs tremble around his hips, and he can feel it from the way you’re clenching around him. He doesn’t know if he’s gonna last if you keep talking like that, definitely not if you’re squeezing him like that and if you start drowning the room with those pretty sounds of yours. But god does he want to give it to you nice and slow, so you can feel every bit of each other, so you can savour every second and engrave it in your minds to never leave your memories. 

“Perfect for me.” Matty mumbles as he draws his hips back slowly, until it’s only the tip that’s inside you, just to fill you to the hilt steadily again. “Like you were fucking made for me baby.” He sets the pace, slow but delicious and your moans mix in the most gorgeously pornographic harmony. 

You can feel every vein and ridge, how he stretches you out and drags in and out is heavenly. He groans and moans with every thrust and when you start meeting him in the middle with the roll of your own hips, you both melt into absolute messes. 

“Fuck, Matty.” A mewl leaves you, eyes rolling back in pleasure when he picks up the pace just slightly and hits that spot over and over, “Don’t stop baby. Just like that.”

“Right there?” He asks thrusting deliberately again and when you loudly moan in response, he sighs in bliss, “My girl. All mine. My perfect girl.”

The room is charged with this sense of worship that speaks for the both of you, bringing you closer without a need to use words. In the air, a hint of smoke still lingers but it’s lost and faint in between the aroma of sex, the sounds you’re making and the creak of the springs of your bed. 

Your bodies stick together thanks to the sweat that coats them, the warmth that exudes out of your pores enveloping you together in the most staggering way, almost on the brink of being entirely overwhelming but not being suffocating, more like captivating in the way you’d only dreamed of finding. 

You feel complete, as if you two were meant to fit together and there’s nothing that has ever felt more right. The way his hips snap against yours, the sound of the faint slap of your skin when they meet, your fingers tangled in his curls, him hiding in the crook of your neck, being so close to each other you feel the beating of your hearts and knowing it’s just right when they sync. 

“Baby, I-.” You try to warn in between moans, your ankles wrapping around his lower back to keep him right there where he is.

Your boyfriend has no intention of moving though, being so close to the edge himself, “Me too baby. Fuck.” 

“Need you.” You beg. It’s all you want, all you need. You have to feel him all over you, within you in every sense, just like he already is.

He shudders at your petition, not knowing how much longer he can last with that image in his head. His brows scrunch up as he tries to hold out for longer. His slow but hard pace doesn’t falter for a second, to give you what you want, to make your wishes come true and to have you cum with him because he can’t hold out any longer. 

He groans, sweet nothings being drowned by the sound of your hips meeting, “Gonna give you all you ask for. Always.”

Matty’s hand moves under your thigh, moving it higher, opening you up more to him so his pelvis hits your clit and you jolt at the friction, and it only adds to make your approaching orgasm come faster and harder. Your back arches and you loudly moan in his ear as you cum, all you see is white and you can hear his moans far away like your soul has just exited your body. 

“Oh fuck, baby!” His hips stutter as he cums, but he makes himself continue as he spills inside you, needing to give you all he can so you can ride out your orgasms. He wants to give you his all, his absolute best. 

It hits him again all at once when he opens his eyes and sees you blissed out below him. He loves you so much, his heart beats entirely for you. Selfishly he wishes that all your smiles belong to him like this one does when you open your eyes and see him grinning at you. 

He can’t stop himself from leaning down to kiss you sweetly, hoping that you can somehow understand the I love you he’s trying to say without actually telling you. He’s half sure you somehow understand and he’s happy with that for now so after another peck he lets himself fall limp over you, hiding himself into you when you start blinking your eyes open again.

Nothing is said afterwards, everything being spoken through with actions. His lips leaving sweet kisses on your chest and his fingers drawing faint circles on the sides of your waist. Your fingers brushing his hair back and off his forehead, nails scratching softly at his scalp and making him sigh in content.

It feels like every piece has fallen into place then and you know in your heart what that means. Your brain is fuzzy and you feel the best you’ve ever have, so the smile on your face is inevitable. You wish you could just bottle up the feeling in this very moment and cherish it forever, take a sip of it whenever you’re away from Matty because you know you’ll need it in the future. 

However, you push those thoughts away, focusing on how perfect it feels to be held and cherished by him right now. Enjoying every second of this feeling that you know so well which you’ve finally uncovered with him.

A few minutes of silence go by, the only thing you hear is your settling heartbeat in your ears and you know Matty can hear it too, but you don’t mind. You hope he hears what he’s made of you, a fool for him and only him and you know you’d proudly admit it if anyone were to ask.

The feeling becomes even more prominent when he picks his head up and looks up at you with a loopy smile, one that you mirror before you even get a chance to hear him ask, “How does a shower and facemasks sound?”

“Sounds perfect.” You giggle, god this man knows the way to your heart, “Deal.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

There’s a chill in the air when you wake up, one that makes you want to sink back into your bed and never re-emerge. Half asleep, you turn over and pull your blanket and duvet further up so it covers your shoulders hoping to find refuge in the warmth you’ve created, but as you move, you’re pleasantly reminded you’re not the only one occupying your bed. 

Even in his sleep Matty adjusts himself to have you next to him, needing you as close as possible. And it’s when you feel his arm wrap around your waist and pull you that bit closer that you blink your eyes open just to see if he’s woken up yet, not wanting to miss a second with him remembering he was going away today. 

But he’s right there, next to you in bed with no intention of leaving anytime soon. His fingers digging into your waist as he holds you closer even in his sleep; not even deep in his slumber does he risk you getting away from his hold. 

Seeing him so peaceful, lying beside you with his mouth parted as he softly exhales and his curls spilled over the cotton of the pillow case, you feel your heart squeeze in your chest. In the silence of the room, you find yourself holding your breath like your shaky exhales could disrupt the notion that just became crystal clear: you love him. 

You deeply do, and it’s a love so easy that it just adds to the things that complete you. The way you love an iced coffee regardless of the weather, even if you scold yourself when your fingers go numb as you walk back home or to the office but your heart feels full at the taste of the cold bitterness running down your throat. The way you love listening to rain hit your windows when you’re hiding under your blankets in the warmth of your home. 

He’s become home. Possibly the most important part of it. Somebody you can be entirely yourself with, who seems to cherish you the way you dreamed of someone doing as a kid. Matty’s the one who’s made you believe that love is possible again, something you don’t have to be so scared of anymore. 

It’s strange, recognising the feeling you’d previously lost all hope of experiencing again after making peace with the fact that love was never destined for you. But now it’s resurfaced, and this time it's more intense, so much more overwhelmingly strong than it ever was years ago.  

It’s so relieving knowing that you can have it back and with him but it also terrifies you when the feeling is a bitter reminder of how it had escaped your grasp so long ago, entirely against your will, by someone else’s hand. It’s not like you’re expecting Matty to be reckless with your heart, but experience has led you to be wary and despite wanting so badly to freefall into it all blindly and just driven by the fact that you know you love him, you owe it to yourself to tread these waters carefully. 

You promise yourself that you’ll keep it to yourself for a while, make sure that this isn’t just a honeymoon phase with someone you really like and that you’re not just getting ahead of yourself. It’s difficult since after last night you know it all meant something more, maybe you just want that confirmation from Matty first. 

So you’ll let yourself feel it, protecting your heart a little by keeping silent, but you hope you can tell him in every way other than verbally. You love him so much. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. 

You know it’s a little selfish of you, but after realising you don’t want to waste another second of your time with him or not. You want to see his gorgeous brown eyes again, see that goofy smile you love so much and have him hold you like he never wants to let you go. 

So you don’t give it a second thought when you lean in to him and peck his lips a few times. And because that’s nowhere near enough, you start pecking his whole face in an attempt to wake him up and it takes no time at all. 

Not even a minute goes by until he’s tiredly blinking his eyes open, but even then you don’t stop your small attack. Not until that adorable grin takes over his face and he starts lowly chuckling, gently stroking the skin he’s found available to him on your waist. 

He looks as happy as you feel, your heart so full that seeing him like this makes you think you could melt. Something that you practically do when Matty puckers his lips and you give into the desire to have your lips against his again. 

It's slow and drawn out, but you would have him no other way. Kissing the man you love in bed fairly early on a Sunday morning, it’s everything you could ever want. If you’d have told your past self last year that this would be your future you’d have called yourself crazy, but you’re so beyond glad it’s real. 

You’re in love. And the man who owns your heart pulls you closer into his body where you bury yourself into his neck and wrap your arms around him. Both of you lie there quietly for a while longer pretending there’s no rush at all and you have all the time in the world to stay cosied up to the person you love more than anything. 

~*~*~*~

When you eventually get up, you both decide it’s a cereal in bed sort of morning, both of you opting for coco pops and a long cuddle after you finish. It feels bittersweet for both of you knowing he’s going which is quite sad of you both considering he’s only spending three full days away. 

As you’re both dressing for the day, you offer to drive him to the airport but despite wanting you with him until the last possible second, he planned on leaving his car there until his early arrival to get him back home faster on Thursday, and eventually back to you in time to get ready for your party. This gives you some time to think about something, which ends up with you pathetically overthinking about a little thing that you really shouldn’t be worried about. 

Yes it was too soon to tell him that you loved him, but giving him keys to your flat you thought was a small gesture to let him know that you trusted him enough that you want him to come and go as he pleases. Of course you would want that, you just didn’t know how to bring it up, so you put it off until the last possible second. 

“Matty, before you go…” You stop him before he has a chance to collect his bag. 

“Yeah?” He smiles, definitely glad that you’ve stopped him from leaving. He’ll take anything to stay around you for a little while longer. 

“Last night you said that you were due in early on the ninth?” You double check, your anxiety peaking making you not quite believe your memory. 

“Yeah,” He nods, “I think at like 3am.”

“I- I just wanted to,” You stumble on your words, before you take a deep breath and bite the bullet, “Well I wanted you to have these.” At that you dig into your pocket and pull out your spare set of keys and hold between the both of you. You can’t quite decipher the look on Matty’s face so you drop your gaze and play with the keys as you ramble.

“So you can let yourself in and, you know, come and go as you please. If you want them anyway.” Overthinking, you panic a little thinking he may believe you’re being selfish, “And I’m not giving you them so I don’t have to wake up to come and let you in- I just-” Pausing, you close your eyes for a second and after a deep breath you relax enough to say your simple truth, “Yeah, I just wanted you to have them.”

That was just about the cutest thing Matty has ever seen. Still avoiding his eye contact you don’t see how he’s started grinning like a fool. God he loves you so damn much, he wishes he could tell you already. 

Your boyfriend steps forward and gently grabs both sides of your face tilting your head up so he can see your pretty eyes again. When he does, his thumbs caress your cheeks as he grins, “You’re so damn cute, baby.” 

“I’m not,” You press your palm against your forehead, close your eyes and whisper, “That was so awkward, I’m sorry.”

“You're not awkward.” He giggles, wrapping his arms around your waist, trapping you in a hug, “You're adorable being all nervous.”

“Don’t embarrass me before you leave.” You mumble as you hide yourself into his neck, your arms wrapping around his waist and holding him tightly. 

“I’m not,” He grins, kissing the side of your head, “I just love it.” I love you. It’s all he wants to tell you. 

That statement has you chuckling, knowing just how much he likes to make you feel all flustered. But you can’t help but whine a little, “I feel like we've done things so backwards.”

Matty’s eyebrows pinch together a little, pulling back from the hug just enough to look at you curiously, “How'd you mean?”

“We’ve lived together for almost a month and now I'm nervous to give you a key to my flat,” Not to mention I’m in love with you is on the tip of your tongue, “It's weird.”

“We’re weird.” Matty grins, pulling you against him a little more and kissing you sweetly after he says, “Doesn’t mean I don’t love what we have any less.”

Your heart thuds twice as fast hearing him say that. It makes you want to tell him that your heart is well and truly in the palm of his hands. That you’re his, that he’s it for you. That you love him. 

But it's far too soon. Far too risky.

Matty graciously accepts the keys you once again offer him, and he quickly adds them to his own keyring as he teases, “Thank you for giving me them, baby. I promise I won’t sell them on the black market and leak your address.”

That has you giggling but you play along and nod sincerely, “Thank you. Appreciate that.”

Matty chuckles again, pocketing the keys again and wrapping you in another big hug. He squeezes you tight as he declares, “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more.” You mumble into his shoulder, holding him even tighter not wanting him to go.

It's pathetic of you considering these goodbyes will probably be the easiest you face. Him only being gone for a few days instead of a few months at a time which you’re aware you’ll one day have to face. Today just feels that little bit more challenging because you’ve realised just how much he means to you and you’re scared to let him go. All you want is to wrap yourself up in bed with him again. 

“Doubt it.” Matty hums, knowing there’s certainly no way that’s possible. 

“We’re so soppy.” You giggle a little before scorning yourself, “Who have I become?” 

“A simp.” Matty declares, looking at you with a cheeky knowing grin, “But you've always been one of those for me, haven’t you?” 

Gasping, you grab his hands to try and pry him off your waist as you scorn him, “You know too much, get outttt!”

“But I don’t want to.” Matty whines, tightening his grip so you can’t get away and he’s pleased when you relent and let him keep ahold of you. He buries his head into your neck as he says, “I’ll cancel on Jack and stay right here.”

As much as you would absolutely love for him to stay here and kiss your neck until he’s bruised your skin, you don’t let him cancel his plans. Your fingers wind up in his curls and you tug a little on them so he shows his face as you try and make him feel better about his trip, “You’ll be back before you know it, and I’m only ever on the other end of the phone.”

“Promise you’ll answer?” Matty puts his best puppy dog eyes on for that question. 

You grin, “Always.” As if you’d ever ignore him. 

“Unless you’re asleep.” Matty adds, knowing you far too well.

But even so, you’d give up sleep to talk to the man you love. But of course you need to keep his ego under control so you don’t let him know that just yet. 

“Unless I’m asleep.” You grin, happily playing with the curls at the nape of his neck as you grin, “I’ve trained you so well. Such a good boy.”

Matty squeezes you tighter hearing that, a physical and verbal warning, “Don’t say that or we'll be going right back into your room.”

And as much as you would absolutely love to have him begging for you to praise him back in your bedroom, you’re all too aware he has to be on a plane in the next few hours. 

“Let’s not think about that before you're racing to catch your flight.” You chuckle, trying your best now to get him excited, “Come on, you've not seen Jack in ages, you'll love it once you're out there.”

“I suppose.” Matty sighs, but he has to stop himself from carrying on to sincerely say but not as much as I love being with you.

You hum and smile knowing you’re right and you adore the way Matty doesn’t seem to be able to stop himself from stealing a kiss and then planting so many more all over your face until you’re giggling like a schoolgirl. Hearing your laugh is one of his favourite sounds on the planet, and he’s glad he’s got to experience it one more time before he goes. 

Once the attack of kisses ceased, you go on your tiptoes to trap him in a proper one. A kiss to express what you can’t quite let yourself say yet but you hope he feels regardless. It’s sweet, certainly loving, and you adore the way you both melt into each other and drag it out not really wanting it to ever be over with. 

Unfortunately, it does end with Matty saying a bittersweet, “I’ll see you soon.” 

“Have a safe flight.” You smile, reluctantly slipping out of his grasp to get one of his bags for him, “Please text me when you’re boarding and when you get there.” 

“As soon as I’m downstairs I’ll be texting you, baby.” Matty smiles, “Don’t have to worry about that.”

For a minute you say that you’ll come down to see him off but he makes you stay put, not wanting you to get cold. That and he’s sure it’ll be easier to drive away from you if you’re not actually waving him off. 

After collecting his bags, and both stand at your open door, you whisper, “See you soon.” not wanting to actually say goodbye at all. Thankfully, you manage to steal one last kiss which your boyfriend is more than pleased about, despite it being that little bit harder to go. 

“See you soon baby.” He just about whispers against your lips before he pulls away and he heads out of your flat towards the stairs. 

Of course, you play the lovesick housewife for a second, watching as he leaves at your door. It’s simpy of you, yes, but you’re in love and you don’t even feel a little shy about it when he catches you. Matty glances back just before he’s out of your line of sight, and he blows a kiss at you which you catch and blow one right back to him with a little wave. 

The I love you’s stuck in each of your throats, neither daring to utter the words as you disappear from the other’s view.

~*~*~*~ 9th February 2023 ~*~*~*~

In the short time you were away from each other, rarely did you feel out of contact considering there was an ocean and a five hour time difference between you. Truthfully, you felt closer to Matty than ever. 

With nothing to do at home other than prep for the Brits, which at this point you’ve met most of the attendees at various events now, making your research light work, you’ve spent most of your time messaging or Facetiming your boyfriend. 

Daily pictures were sent of you both in your various get ups, Matty demanding ones from you even if it was the same joggers as the day before just because he wanted to see you. And when he sent you the multiple options he had to wear, asking you to please help him choose, you were more helpful about taking the piss about him packing so many clothes for a three day trip to New York. 

Matty would surprise you with pictures of random places around New York, ones he stumbled upon on his walks around the city, which were always accompanied by some text along the lines of Doesn’t this place look sick?! Saving it so we can come here next time we’re in New York xxxx

He was making it so hard for you not to call him just to yell I love you!!! 

Before you knew it, the days had passed by and he was at the airport waiting for his plane home. Something which you pretended not to be too excited about despite knowing you were about to get the man you love back. 

Sleep didn’t come easily to you that night, like it did most other nights. No, instead you were restless, tossing and turning all night, probably a little too excited that you were getting your man back. You thought sleep would help pass the time faster but instead it dragged it out, made the wait so much more antagonising. 

You think it might have been around 2am when you eventually got to sleep, which is painfully close to the time he was due to land which in the morning you would scold yourself for not managing to stay up for. But it would not matter soon, when he’d open your door with that key you gave him before leaving and he’d come to be the best interruption to your sleep.

Matty didn’t hesitate for a second to drive to your flat from the airport, wanting nothing more than to curl up next to you in bed and stay there for as long as possible. The drive felt longer with how tired he was, despite sleeping on the plane, but thankfully the 50 minute drive he managed to do in 35 thanks to the lack of traffic and breaking a few speed limits. 

A massive smile made its way onto his face as he pulled his keys from the ignition and saw the ones that would allow him into your home. He felt so lucky, it made him want to get you a key cut to his at the earliest opportunity. He’s a little disappointed in himself that he didn’t think of exchanging keys before you did. 

Despite practically running up the stairs to your floor when he opens the building with the fob, he’s extremely quiet when he opens your front door. He’s not surprised when everything is dark and silent in your living room, he expects nothing less than you being fast asleep in bed which when he finds is true, his heart soars.

Matty finds you all cosy in bed, entirely passed out, your heated blanket that he got you for Christmas wrapped up around you and he can’t help but grin at the sight of you. He’s so happy to be back but he can’t help but quickly and gently brush the few strands of hair that are over your forehead away so he can place a kiss there. 

He’s thankful when he doesn’t wake you up, knowing too well what you’re like without proper sleep. Not wasting more time, Matty strips himself down to his boxers and gently pulls the covers back and slowly eases himself down onto the bed in hopes of not waking you. 

However, the cold air hitting your skin must have made you stir because before Matty even has the chance to pull the covers up over him or turn towards you, he hears a tired but heartfelt, “You came.”

He could cry hearing how surprised you sounded, as if he wouldn’t come when he’d already promised. Matty grins as he shuffles closer to you, raising his arm as he sees you moving to him so he can cuddle you properly, saying, “Of course I did baby, you asked me to.”

Of course you come and steal a kiss, finding his lips surprisingly easily considering your eyes are closed and you’re still half asleep, and Matty would chuckle if he didn’t find you so damn adorable. Even more so when you practically lie on top of him, hiding yourself into his neck and declaring a mumbled, “Missed you.”

“Missed you so much more.” He whispers, pulling the covers up for you more so you don’t get cold, “Go back to sleep.”

He feels you hum against his neck, entirely satisfied with that instruction, and he’s sure there’s a faint smile on your lips as you mumble, “I’m so glad you’re back.”

Matty’s sure his heart leaps from his chest hearing that. It certainly beats faster and he can’t help but hug you closer and kiss the top of your head, “Me too baby, so much.”

It’s about 20 minutes before your boyfriend’s eyes start closing, but by then you’re long gone, back into the deep sleep he disturbed you from. So Matty thinks it’s safe enough for him to whisper, “I love you.” to the girl of his dreams. 

~*~*~*~

“You’re so pretty.” It falls from Matty’s lips for at least the third time in the past hour as he sits on the toilet seat lid and watches as you do your make up. 

His words never fail to make you smile like a fool, so you stop doing your eyebrows to grin at him through the mirror, “You’re too cute.” 

“No, I’m being serious, you're so stunning.” He insists, his curls bounce softly as he shakes his head in disbelief of your beauty.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. It’s unfair how much of an effect he has on you, your stomach flips and your chest tightens at the amount of love you feel for him. “Stop making me flustered.” Is what you mumble before going back to stare at yourself to continue your makeup.

Matty is ready to go after he had taken a shower and put on a suit that had you biting your bottom lip when he walked back into the bathroom as you did your hair. So he’s patiently waiting for you to finish getting ready, just staring at you in awe and completely in love. 

At first, he had been on his phone as you loosely curled the ends of your hair but when you started doing your makeup, he quickly forgot about the device to gawk at you. After audibly voicing just how gorgeous you were and you jokingly asked for him to stop making you flush, he kept quiet and stuck to just drinking in every little thing you did. Like the way you softly and precisely apply your eyeshadow, how you hold your breath and lean in closer to the mirror as you apply eyeliner to your waterline, how you cock your head to the side to make sure you’ve done a good job with your highlighter. 

But soon a soft frown appears on your face and before he can ask about it, you’re the one to say, “Can you help me please?”

“With what baby?” Matty replies softly, quickly rising from his place to walk towards you.

Your boyfriend walks up until his chest is pressed against your back and he drops a little kiss on your shoulder, attentively listening as you explain, “You used to do really good smudged smokey eyeliner and I want a bit of that but I can’t do it.”

Another peck is pressed on the skin of your shoulder and then you feel the vibration of his understanding hum. He straightens up to look at you through the mirror and asks, “Do you have any vaseline?”

You break eye contact to drop your gaze on the mess you’ve made by the sink, “I think so… here.” 

Handing him the small container, he takes a short step back and wraps his hand around your waist to turn you around to face him. He’s so smooth with his actions and he knows it, a smirk plastered on his face when you come face to face with him, one that you kiss away with a short peck before hurrying him to work his magic. You’ve already put the eyeliner on but trying to smudge it out with your brush like you thought was the way to do it hadn’t worked so you’re just waiting for your boyfriend to do what he used to do for his own eyeliner back in the day.

Matty opens the lid and dips his finger slowly to gather enough for both of your eyes. Your eyes flutter close when his finger comes up to coat your eyelids with a bit of vaseline to rub on your eyeliner. He smiles feeling your hands clutching softly onto his waist, your fingers tapping his clothed skin in a rhythm that he can’t recognise. 

It takes about a minute or two for him to be satisfied with his work, and you smile when hearing him mumble to himself as he rubs delicately but precisely, trying his best to make both eyes look as similar as possible. 

At the loss of his touch on your eyelids and the silence that envelops you, you open your eyes slowly and meet with your boyfriend flashing you the sweetest of smiles. 

“Bit too much, here,” Matty uses the excess on his finger to run it along your lips, smoothing them for you and he smiles when they have a pretty shine to them and his job is done. 

It takes everything in you not to smile as he does it. But he can see the smile in your eyes as he watches you press your lips together to make sure they’re evenly coated. Your boyfriend grins, “Gorgeous.” before quickly dipping down and pecking your lips. 

“Thank you, baby.” You say before turning around to see yourself again, and to say you’re amazed with how well he did was an understatement.

Your mouth falls open in awe of how good it looks, and the giddiness inside you translates into a loud gasp as you smooth a few strands of hair off your face, “It looks so good!” 

Matty smiles bright and proud behind you, his hands on your waist squeeze there a little before he reiterates, “Look stunning baby.”

With the heat that rushes up to your cheeks, you’re not sure you’d need to apply any blush but you still do, and after applying mascara on, you’re ready to put on your party clothes.

Amelia and you had planned your outfits to be entirely Valentine’s day related, so while she was wearing a dress with hearts that looked like little balloons, you had decided to go for a little red number which consisted of a red corset and mini skirt. You had little white wings to go with it and knee high stockings that would be clipped to some garter belt suspenders to make your cupid look sexy.

Looking at your reflection in the full body length mirror in the corner of your room, you know you look hot but your boyfriend is staring at you like you’ve handed him the moon and the stars. Matty is shamelessly letting his gaze run up and down your figure, biting his bottom lip as if containing every sinful thought he’s having about you. 

You’re fully expecting some lewd comment to come from him with the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark with lust and hunger that make your insides melt in a familiar heat that has you excited to come back home already. Yet, what he says is a generous, “Want me to clip these for you?” pointing at the suspenders still unclipped over your thighs.

“Please.” Your nod is eager, matching the desperation underlying his words.

You have to suppress a laugh at the speed in which he leans forward as he’s sitting on the edge of your bed and starts clipping the suspenders to the top of your stockings. 

He does the leg closest to him first, keeping his touch slow and ghostly, making goosebumps erupt in your skin and tingles to run up your inner thighs and almost causing you to shiver. But to clip the ones on your other leg, he gets up from his seat only to kneel in front of you, making a show of looking up at you through his lashes as he blindly clips the one on the back of your thigh. 

Raising your brows at him, your tongue pokes out to lick at your lips and when the first clasp is done, he moves his hands slowly towards the front of your thighs earning a smirk from you. This time he has to look down to clip it, but when he’s done, his fingers dig harshly into your skin for a quick second before he groans, “God, you’re so hot.”

Before you can even register his words, which almost sounded like a moan, he dips his head into your leg and bites the flesh of your thigh. His teeth sink into your skin with a force that makes pleasure rush up your spine and you choke out a gasp. Matty hears you and you feel him chuckle against your skin, your words have completely died on your tongue so he drops a kiss over the bite mark he left and slowly lifts himself up to stand up in front of you. 

The corners of his mouth are lifted into a devilish grin that you know is only promising of trouble. The way he raises his brows expectantly is enough to snap you out of your trance and that’s when you scorn him, “What did I say about not making me flustered?”

If you had known what he’s about to say, you wouldn’t have asked. “I’ll stop as long as you’re fully aware I’m fucking you in these when we get home.”

Your jaw clenches in an attempt to stop it from dropping at his words, “You’re no help.”

Your boyfriend doesn’t say a thing, his hands go from your waist to the bottom of your skirt to adjust it merely an inch, but when he says “Turn around.” you still obediently listen.

Matty does the same when your back is to him, pulling your skirt in perfect place before dropping a trail of kisses from your shoulder up your neck until he reaches your ear and whispers, “All done.”

“Thank you.” You shiver against his chest, actually thinking about fully missing the party just to indulge in his touch and his kisses and that promise (more like a statement) he made just a few seconds ago.

“Anytime baby.” Matty grins at you, and just as you’re about to move to look into the mirror again, a hard slap to your arse stops you in your tracks. You gasp and look back at your boyfriend who’s grin has only got bigger.  

Before you can even get any words out, he defends himself, “You can scold me all you want, but you enjoyed it.” 

His teasing words have you speechless, and after not having a single comeback to throw his way you bite your tongue and carry on getting ready. Your stylist, Chloe, Facetime’s you at one point when you tell her that you’re ready once you have your ‘solemate’ Lamoda heels on which you adore because the base of them is a red love heart.

Thankfully Chloe approves of how both you and Matty look together and she even applauds Matty’s handy work with your smudged eyeliner. So much you know he’s going to give her a hug later to thank her, and now you’re just waiting for the chicken nuggets you put in the oven (yes, you’re self aware that that’s predictable and cheesy of you - Matty has already laughed at you for it) to be cooked before you book yourselves a taxi so you get there earlier than everyone else. 

As you wait, you make some final touches to yourselves before you ask Matty to take some pictures of you. He happily does and makes you giggle as he turns it into a full photoshoot. 

He makes you lie down on your bed, standing on your stool to get a good angle and he has an absolute ball directing you into positions he wants. At one point you get a little too into it trying to tease him and he tells you to stop before he ruins your makeup, which with his skills you have no doubt he would do. 

After that threat you end up taking cute couple pictures, a few with your Polaroid and film camera before you get as many as you like on your phones. Your selfies are adorable, you’re being unable to stop yourself from changing your lock screen immediately to the picture of you both smiling at your phone but Matty’s chin is resting on your shoulder, his grin is all gooey, and his mop of curls is messy and unruly just the way you love it. 

You adore the picture just as much as you love the man in it. Even a quick glance at it reminds you of the way he squeezed you so tightly from behind as you took the picture. He melts your heart entirely. 

As you’re thinking about which picture to post on your story, your boyfriend is being vain for a moment and taking his own mirror selfies to send to the boys. But once he sends it off and gets bullied for being a simp for you he pockets his phone and focuses on himself in the mirror. 

You don’t mind your view at all, you watch as your boyfriend moves his curls a few times trying to get it into the place he deems fit. He sighs, settling for what he thinks is mediocre, and he glances at you as he tells you, “I know your thoughts already but I really wanna gel my hair back right now.”

“No,” Your face falls entirely, not wanting to see that mop of curls scraped back, “Definitely not.”

“But why?” He whines, coming back up to you, pulling you into him in hopes proximity will persuade you, “Don’t you think I look good?”

“Matthew,” You sigh, fixing his tie so it’s a little more in line with his top button, “In that suit you’d look like Patrick Bateman if you gelled your hair.”

You were hoping that your statement would deter him from that cursed hair gel, but you watch as his eyes light up, and immediately you know you’ve said the wrong thing. The smile that grows on Matty’s lips is almost like he’s been told he’s won the Euro Millions, and although you adore it when he smiles, you hate that Patrick Bateman of all people has brought that to his face.

At the same time you say, “No.” Matty excitedly nods, “Yes.”

“Matty, no.” You say louder, as he practically vibrates in your arms. 

He excitedly grins, “I would look so fucking good as Patrick Bateman.”

“Yeah you would,” You admit, raising your eyebrows as you say, “But not at my fucking Valentine’s party.” 

Matty chuckles, pulling you firmly against him by his hand on the small of your back, and he smirks as he says in a low tone, “Halloween this year is sorted.”

You tut at that, narrowing your eyes slightly, sarcasm thick in your voice, “Oh, such a great couples costume.”

Your boyfriend grins now, cooing, “Awhhhh, you wanna do a couples costume.”

And it’s not just because you want to dress up together as a couple that makes him feel all gooey inside, it's the fact that Halloween is months from now and you still picture yourself with him. It makes him feel all tingly inside, and he’s so happy that by the time the both of you get to October 31st he will definitely be allowing himself to declare that he loves you openly and proudly. 

“Yeah well,” You sigh, grinning though as you say, “Guess I’ll have to ask Ross to do a couples costume now.”

Matty’s jaw falls at that, eyes narrowing in an instant as he tells you, “No.”

“Well then,” You chuckle, “No Bateman for you.”

“We shall see.” Your boyfriend smiles, looking into your gorgeous eyes that stand out even more now he’s done your eyeliner. 

He can’t help but lean in to kiss you, loving nothing more than you being in his arms and his lips against your own. He hopes he can feel how much he loves you, how content he is with you having his heart in the palm of your hands. 

And seeing your goofy smile when you both pull away from the kiss hits him like he’s just realised his feelings all over again. God, he loves you so fucking much.

Matty watches as you press your lips together for a second before you inevitably ask, “Can I please put some eyeliner on you?”

“So it’s a no to Bateman but a yes to emo me at your party?” Matty can’t help but teasingly ask.

It’s somewhere between embarrassment and shame that you find yourself hating to admit, “You looked fit as fuck with it on back in the day.”

It takes everything in him not to laugh, knowing that you still can’t quite stop getting too in your head about it when he reminds you of your obsession with him. He goes easy on you, just grinning at you before he kisses you once more. 

“Yeah come on then baby,” Matty chuckles, pulling you back into the bathroom so you can do his makeup in better lighting, “Lets make your dreams come true.”

You follow obediently, but not before half heartedly saying under your breath, “Arsehole.”

~*~*~*~

The moment you step foot in the venue, you’re blown away seeing your and Amelia’s vision come to life perfectly. Heart balloons take over every inch of the ceiling by the main entrance to the cafe, the strings attached to them come draping down like a curtain that you have to walk through to get to the main event. A few mirrorballs hiding in between the balloons, glistening in the lights and bathing the place with shimmer.

To your left you see the big red letterbox that you hoped your guests would actually interact with like Amelia and you had envisioned when you came up with the idea of having it at the party.

The bar is filled with spirits and mixers and you can see the coasters you’d made for the party all waiting to be used right by the endless amounts of Ciroc vodka bottles that you’d been sent after the brand had wanted to be part of your little soiree, all of them decorated with red, white and pink hearts and the name of your event on the side. 

There is a big square table with a blue velvet cloth where the big ice sculpture resides: it’s a giant heart with an arrow going through it, with ‘Amelia’s Valentines Affair’ written on it. That was the name of the event as you had thought, since you were no longer single, it would be only appropriate to make this party along with the holiday all about Amelia and play onto the fact that she was still looking for the one as she did when she went on your chicken shop dates. 

Naturally, your best friend had loved the idea of being the main focus of it all so even the photobooth that you had at the back of the cafe, hidden away in a corner, had been branded as ‘Amelia’s Valentines Affair’. 

It had been so much fun coming up with the names of the drinks for the party, and choosing the catering menu, as well as cake tasting for the triple tier cake that was hidden away in the kitchen of the cafe but for which you were so excited to bring out and share with everyone who would attend.

When Amelia comes out of the kitchen and sees you two, she runs to envelope the both of you in a hug. Instantly, you and your best friend start screeching like schoolgirls just because of how excited you are for the evening, and thankfully you don’t have to wait long because it’s merely fifteen minutes later that the first bunch of guests walk through the doors of the cafe. 

With the DJ playing good tunes that had everyone dancing as they sipped on their themed cocktails, sneaking away to the photobooth, taking shots of vodka out of the ice sculpture and taking loads of pictures and videos on your phone, the night slipped away. 

Before you know it, the gorgeous cake is being brought out by your best friend and she gets a microphone that she taps three times before she speaks into it. 

“Hello everyone! Thank you so much for coming and celebrating Valentine’s day with us!” Claps and cheers erupt in the room, wolf whistles that Amelia entertained by flipping her hair and fanning herself like the attention was making her flustered, “Thank you, thank you. I hope you’ve had a lovely time! I was hoping to find the one for me here, but it seems I’m still stuck third wheeling for this hot Cupid that was rudely stolen from me.” Your best friend rolls her eyes playfully while pointing at you and Matty. A chorus of laughter comes from the crowd, your own giggles getting lost in the sea of chuckles. 

Your boyfriend’s hand comes to squeeze your waist and you get all flustered at the attention you’ve got on you two after your best friend’s words. So many people had come up to you and Matty tonight, completely surprised to see you kissing and dancing, admitting that they thought it was a joke for the sake of the date you’d put out with him or something like Aitch and Amelia’s situation.

It would be an understatement to say it hadn’t filled you with a sense of pride to admit that you were in fact together and not for show, your heart bursting at its seams when Matty would smirk and look at you for a second before looking back at whoever was in front of you and saying, “Got incredibly lucky, didn’t I? Can’t believe she’s mine.”

Amelia’s hand waving in the air, as if dismissing your poor job as Cupid, and continuing her speech is what brings you out of your trance. “It’s okay, this just means I can keep taking hot dates to the chicken shops and it’s good that’s my favourite thing! Erm, yeah, that’s all. Thank you all for coming and, what did Marie Antoinette say? Let them eat cake!” 

The music resumes right after that, but a crowd gathers around the table as you and Amelia do the honours of cutting the cake. You two feed each other the first piece and end up laughing uncontrollably when you smudge a bit of frosting on each other’s faces. Soon after, you start handing out pieces for everyone to enjoy the delicious dessert and end the night in the best way. 

When you finally get home and take your heels off, your shoulders hang in relief. Matty scoops you up in his arms the second his own shoes are off, and he all but runs into your room, dropping you on top of your bed softly only to pounce on your lips with a delicious desperation that you welcome eagerly and match with ease.

The second the kiss breaks for you to take a breath, you quickly mumble, “Wait.” making him get off you and going back out your room to get your bag. 

Ever since you’d gone into the photobooth for the first time tonight, you’d wanted to go back home and put up the strips of pictures you took beside the pictures you already have littered around your room. 

Matty watches from your bed as you put the photobooth pictures up, and a huge smile breaks on his face when he sees you take a step back after you’re pleased with the set up and sigh in content at the moments captured in the printed strips. He pushes himself off your bed, taking two short steps towards you until he’s pressed flush against your back, dipping his head to attack your neck with kisses that you encourage as you tilt your head to the opposite side to allow him more space to burn with those lips of his.

A day celebrating love with you couldn’t be complete without properly worshipping you, hoping the kisses he leaves all over you skin as he sinks down to his knees in front of you are enough for you to know he loves you, he adores you, he would do anything for you. 

His mouth is tantalising as it roams your body, as well as his touch and the force in which his fingers dig into your waist when he guides you back on the bed where he makes you lie on your back for him. 

It doesn’t take long for your legs to be thrown over his shoulders, for his lips to leave a fiery trail of kisses up your inner thighs and make you a mess of desire, throbbing and aching just for him. 

Those three words itch on his tongue, begging to be left out, to let you hear them loud and proud but he swallows them the same way he swallows your moans when he traps you in yet another hungry kiss after he’s run up your body with his lips.

And you surely almost let the words slip when he brings you the most delicious pleasure and release over and over again, so intent and attentive to every one of your needs. Every sound you make only pushes him to get more out of you until tears run down your cheeks from overstimulation, ones that he kisses away so delicately your mind is spinning from the combination of it all.

There’s passion and hunger, desperation and lust; but there’s softness and intention, an attentiveness that could make you cry just by thinking about it all over again, and love, so much of it that has you drunker than any alcohol could ever have you.  

The smiles on your faces don’t leave you when you fall asleep in each other’s arms, your holds so tight as if there was any way of being snatched away from each other, your legs tangled too just in case. 

And you dream of each other because there’s not enough time in the day to spend together, your subconscious incapable of more, replete with each other. And you wouldn’t dare ask to have it another way ever again, not in this lifetime or the ones to come next.

~*~*~*~ 11th February 2023 ~*~*~*~

“Hi.” Charli says once she’s in front of you both with a microphone in hand.

You and Amelia wear the biggest smiles seeing the singer, she looks absolutely stunning and you know you’ll gush about it once the interview is over. The white sheer dress she wears hides nothing and you can only be in absolute awe of her confidence because you would never. A true legend and icon is Miss Charli XCX. 

“How are you?” Amelia beats you to ask.

“I’m good. I’m so excited because I'm here to win an EGOT tonight.” Charli smiles brightly and you have to bite your tongue not to giggle. She continues with her EGOT talk saying,  “I’ve won none…” 

It takes everything in you and your best friend to not burst out laughing when she says that.

“Yet.” The three of you say at the same time and smile at each other. 

You’re quick to put in your two cents about it, “But that’s- because there's a conspiracy against you!”

And you’re glad Charli agrees with ease, “I’m- There is! That’s actually true.”

But you wave her off like she has nothing to worry about, “And it's fine because I've brought my sledgehammer because I know you love… blood.”

Amelia can’t help the cackle she lets out after the second of silence passes after your words, laughter in which Charli joins with the same enthusiasm and you end up giggling like an idiot too. You love the popstar possibly too much, and after spending downtime with her on the boy’s UK tour you’ve never felt so close to her, it is truly no hardship at all to have this interview, after all it's more of a fun conversation.

Once you’ve gained back your composure, Amelia, looking lovely in her Union Jack dress, is the one to get things back on track, “Do you think an award show is a good place to fall in love?”

“Yes!” Charli doesn’t waste a second to answer and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face when she looks at your best friend and states, “And actually I think there is a real chance with you and Andrew Garfield.”

You hum and nod, completely on Charli’s side about it and so the singer adds, “It’s real, like I'm just like shipping it.” 

Before you can audibly agree and tease your best friend for the camera, Amelia looks at it and clarifies with that awkward look on her face she plays off so well, “I just wanna say that Andrew Garfield is not nominated for a Brit Award.” You see members of your crew laughing at that, and it takes everything in you to maintain your little persona. 

“Well, you should’ve brought him as your date.” Charli raises her brows as if scolding Amelia for that.

Amelia scrambles for an answer, mouth opening and closing as she struggles to find her words and the only excuse she can eventually find is, “I don’t have his number.”

The popstar gasps at the information but you’re quick to put your best friend on full blast, “We do have his manager’s number…”

That earns a scoff from Charli, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, “Girl, you need to lock. That. Down. Immediately.”

“I agree.” You nod with a ‘told you so’ expression on your face that your best friend sighs about.

There isn’t another chance to continue teasing your best friend for she resumes the interview, introducing one of the things you’d planned for when it was Charli’s turn to show up on the red carpet with you two, “We actually got you a present.”

“Really?” The singer asks, puzzled by what of all the things you’ve got behind you on the shelves could it be.

“Yeah.” You nod as Amelia goes to retrieve the canned cocktail you’d picked out for her, a passion fruit martini sounded very Charli to you two.

“This is very me.” Charli says as she cracks the can open, holding it out, away from her gorgeous dress, you and Amelia grin at each other before flashing your smiles at the singer.

“Oooo, it’s fizzy that, isn’t it?” Charli says at the same time Amelia deadpans, “Oh my god.”

Taking a sip, both of you watch her intently to get her reaction and as Amelia hands her the mic back so that Charli can tell you, “Well, it's very warm.”

You press your lips together not to laugh, and Amelia stays silent for a split second before just offering her a meek, “Sorry.”

Charli still takes another sip of the drink, because it tastes really good despite it very much not being the ideal temperature. But then her eyes fall behind you to the trinkets you have lined up which somehow make sense to bring to the Brits’ red carpet, and that’s when she sees them.

Pointing behind you, Charli grins, “I love this! ‘I hate Matty Healy’ but I love him, but it’s like quite-”

Amelia reaches behind you to grab one for the pop icon, and she holds it out for her to reveal the full top. “That’s something I made.” Amelia announces, awkwardly smiling between Charli and the camera. 

“Did you?” The singer asks with a smirk, she stares at you as soon as Amelia nods and confirms with a quick and proud, “Yeah.”

“You seen him yet?” Charli is so amused by the way you’re avoiding eye contact by staring at the display of ‘I Hate Matty Healy’ tops.

To your left you hear your best friend reply, “No, he’s avoiding me.” and the soft, “Ahhh.” that Charli lets out, like she understands the situation.

But of course the singer wasn’t going to let the opportunity to tease you pass too easily, “I’m sure with your best mate around he’s bound to find a way to get over here.” A big smirk tugs at the corners of her lips, “Didn’t leave her alone for two seconds on tour.”

That’s enough to have you turning your head back to face her, a scoff escaping your lips before you quip back, “You act like you weren’t attached to George’s hip.”

“Oh yes, I was.” She says back as she flips her long hair behind her shoulder, “I’m a proud groupie, I will admit that.” 

Fortunately, she gets distracted by taking the top from Amelia and admiring the printed hate message on the front of the white top. She chuckles, “I might have to put this on if my nipples aren’t allowed on the cameras.”

You still shouldn’t have let your guard down that easily, because when she cheekily adds, “Do you sleep in one of these Y/N/N?” you’re fully taken by surprise.

Your jaw falls and Amelia snorts in laughter, which turns into a cackle when all you manage to answer is an out of character, “Get fucked.”

You know you should’ve been more careful when choosing your words when Charli turns them against you by quipping back with, “You keep one on when you’re doing that too?”

The loud gasp that comes from you is enough to send the two girls beside you into a fit of loud laughter. They’re so amused by it all that they completely ignore you as you scold the singer, “Charlotte!” 

Even your crew is laughing at you, so you have no backup from anyone. Jokes on them though, this will be getting taken out of the final edit. 

“Oh you’re going to fucking die when he comes over, he’s not going to play along.” The singer warns you when she stops laughing, patting under her eyes softly to make sure the tears that lined her eyes from laughter haven’t messed anything up.

You roll your eyes, “He’s getting no interaction.” And you really have to hold back from crossing your arms and stomping your feet like a child so she knows you’re serious when you say, “Can we get back to our interview please, bitch?”

She’s insufferable though, your tone only amusing her further so she plays on it by calling you out, “Oh, she's getting feisty.” 

With another sigh, you put on a bright smile again, ignoring the way Amelia and Charli snigger as you go up to the display behind you and grab something. “And to leave, I’ve just got some poppers.” You show it to Charli and the camera, an awkward but oddly proud smile on your face at the pun you know the singer and her fans will get when they watch the interview.

“Oh, oh fun. Fun.” Charli says with faux excitement, seeing the party popper in your hand. 

It gets even more awkward when you announce, “Which I will pop.” as you stare right into the camera, Amelia grabs the party popper you’re handing her and she does the same as you with her own awkward smile stuck on her face.

Charli nods and mirrors you and Amelia, “Okay.”

Your last frame with Charli is of the three of you smiling at camera as you and Amelia pop the party poppers, while Charli holds up her new top. It’s so underwhelming and the silence around you makes it so much funnier, you really try hard not to break character and ruin the shot. 

When the tiny confetti hits the floor, you and Amelia break the scene, turning to Charli and hugging her while thanking her for coming over. The two of you shower her in compliments which she gives back to you, she even makes you and Amelia twirl in your places to show her every bit of your dresses and you blush when she says she’ll be stealing you from Matty later. 

Sadly, her team tells her she needs to go, and after a promise of seeing the two of you inside when you eventually get to the table you’re all sharing, she sing-songs, “I love youuuu!”

You wave at her as she starts walking away, matching the tone she used to reciprocate the farewell, “Mmm love you too!”

A soft frown appears on her face as she points a warning finger, “Don’t flirt too hard with my boyfriend, I’ll cut you both!”

And as payback for all the teasing she put you through earlier, you sing-song back with the fakest smile, “No promises!”   

Charli flips you off behind her back and the last she hears before disappearing to the next media section of the carpet is your loud laughter. And your night continues on. 

This red carpet is particularly tricky, your little set being in the corner after the actual carpet where the celebs were getting photographed and where Roman Kemp and the other presenters were doing their bit for the livestream, but before the attendees made their way into the O2. So by the time people were passing you, it felt like they were mostly in a rush to get inside.

You got lucky with Charli, she knew you were going to be there because Matty had told her as she was getting ready with the boys. And you’re glad she came over because you truly felt at ease in your job for the night now. 

Before the queen of pop, you had the lovely band Flo and the girls were troopers, playing up to yours and Amelia's antics with shitty karaoke microphones you brought along. Kim Petras came over and showed you both some of her dance moves that she’ll be doing in her performance later on that you and your best friend embarrassingly mimicked.

In a weird and unexpected turn, Declan Rice made an appearance which was confusing at the music awards ceremony to have a footballer there. But you made the most of it and kindly offered the West Ham player a Manchester United mug which he unsurprisingly turned down but you got the best kick out of it. You might even offer it to Matty later to get him scowling at you. 

And after you interviewed the lovely Greg James, that was when Charli wondered over and you got bullied. Alas, the rest of the night must go on and now you are feeling fabulous. 

Aitch came next and you really don't know how you and Amelia kept it together when she offered him his fake box of belongings back. But despite the jokes that fired between the three of you there was a genuine sincerity there when you wished him luck this evening, and you had a little giggle with him after he handed the microphone back to your crew. 

Some guests tonight weren’t doing press, which was a little upsetting, but you both took it on the chin when you were denied interviews. However, a moment tonight that melted both yours and Amelia’s heart was when Ed Sheeran caught your line of sight and you waved at him. Despite his team telling you that he was strictly not doing press, he came over anyway, not for a recorded interview but for a friendly chat where he hugged you upon greeting you and chatted with you for at least five minutes. 

It was really nice, it made the both of you feel like you belong here a little more, and that you’re not fish out of water. You deserve to be here just as much as the journalists on the other carpet. 

Afterwards, comes people like Stormzy, Shania Twain, Jessie J, David Guetta, and you just interviewed Wet Leg when you spot a few familiar faces, but because you’d class one of them as your friend now you shout her name as she walks past. “Flo!” You shout across to her.

You smile when you see her head whip to the side in search of who shouted her name, and a second later when you move from yours and Amelia's little spot over to the edge of your area and wave does she spot you. And when she does she gasps and waves, which melts your heart entirely. The artist makes her way over to you, looking just as stunning as she always does. As soon as she’s close enough, she has a bright grin on her face as she says an excited, “Hey!” 

“Oh my,” She gasps as she stops in front of you and Amelia joins you at your side, “You two look gorgeous!”

You blush because a compliment from her means the world to you, but seeing her dress you can’t help but coo, “No, oh my god! You look amazing!” And she really does. Tonight, Flo is wearing a gorgeous lavender dress that flows gorgeously down to the ground and pools at her feet.

It’s a beautifully made dress, such a stunning shade of lavender that compliments her skin tone well, made from either chiffon or organza with ruching on the bust and thick ruched straps that hold the dress on her shoulders. The detailing just below her breasts makes the rest of the fabric drape down her body in the way you’d expect a disney princess’ too, and you also note that it cleverly hides her growing baby bump.

As she smiles, thanking you for your compliment, before you asks quietly, “How’s baby Turner doing?”

“They’re doing fineee…” Flo grins, running a hand over her stomach so the flowy material will reveal her bump outline to you and you can’t help but pull her in for a hug when you see how big she's getting.

“Don’t suppose,” You start once you let her go, grinning as you cheekily push your luck, “We can pull you for an interview…?”

“No,” She laughs, shaking her head slightly, “You don’t want me, but I’ll make the Monkeys come on for you.”

“They’re actually coming?” Your eyes go a little wide, Amelia’s too because you both knew they were invited but you never for a second thought they would actually show themselves, “I thought you were coming to sit with The 1975 boys.”

“No, believe me,” She laughs, shaking her head, “I wouldn’t have come to another of these if I wasn’t married to someone up for an award. Not after the last time.”

You’re smirking, about to respond with something witty about that night you remember so fondly watching at home on TV back in 2017. However, your friend's name rings out across the room. 

“Flo!” You all hear a male voice shout from not too far away.

Turning the three of you see none other than Harry Styles walking his way over. And you’re half sure your heart falls into your stomach, Amelia’s probably too, but thankfully his eyes are mostly focused on Flo.  

“Hey Florence,” You and Amelia watch as Harry reaches for the artist, “How are you?”

“Harry, hey!” Flo grins up at him, with a hint of something in her eyes that you can’t quite pinpoint. But you’re too focused on the conversation to dwell on that at the moment. The artist grins and hugs him, “I’m good, thank you. How are you?” 

“Great, thank you.” Harry grins, the black suit doing the man such justice, he almost looks like a god despite the huge flower adorning his chest. He pulls her into a massive hug as if they’re been friends for years, “It’s so good to see you.”  

Am I missing something? You can’t help but ask yourself. You’re more than certain though that Matty has never mentioned Flo being aquaintances or better yet friends with Harry fucking Styles. You’ll be having words with him for that later.  

“God, how long has it been?” Harry thinks out loud, still looking as charming as ever, his eyes never leaving hers. It really makes you feel like you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be. He wonders, “Five years?”

“Six, wasn’t it?” Flo corrects him, still asking despite her clearly knowing, “2016?”

“Right.” You spot the singer almost smirking down at the artist, “The last I saw you was Jamaica, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Jamaica.” She nods confirming and you’re almost sure you see a little embarrassed blush creep onto her cheeks. Flo continues, “Lots has happened since then. Congratulations on your albums, they’ve been amazing. I’m excited for the new one.”

As are you and Amelia. Never in your life have you screamed as hard as when you got your tickets to Love On Tour for one of the nights at Wembley. Except when you got your At Their Very Best tickets… of course. 

“Thank you, but I believe you deserve the congratulations, you’re married to Alex now, right?” The singer asks and the artist happily nods, her love for her husband shining through her eyes as she confirms Harry's thoughts. When she does, his smile is huge, “That’s amazing! I'm so happy for you both.”

“Thank you, got a little more to celebrate now too.” Flo holds her hand subtly against her stomach to tell him without actually having to explain aloud. “If you know what I mean.”

And of course he does. The genuine joy for her that seeps onto his face makes you want to melt when he pulls her into another hug. You and your best friend hear him say, “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thank you Harry.” Flo grins, as she pulls away from the hug, but she then turns to you and your best friend, introducing you with ease, “Have you met Y/N and Amelia before? They’re trying to get me to a chicken shop but I think you’d be more who they’re trying to recruit.”

“Hey,” You chuckle, raising your eyebrows at her, “You promised me that date!”

“You’ll get it, my love. I’m going to send Alex and the lads over to you and I’ll see you in there.” She promises, quickly hugging the both of you before she embraces the popstar once again, “It was lovely to see you again Harry.”

“The pleasure’s been all mine, Flo.” He kisses her cheek, lucky bitch. “See you soon.” He waves her off as she wanders back over to where you now see the Monkeys' other wives are standing waiting for her before they head inside. 

But who really cares about them when you have Harry fucking Styles standing in front of you, looking you dead in the eye. You’re sure you could pass out at a moment's notice. You’d already been told that he wasn’t doing press, that pretty much no one would get any interaction from him as he would be surrounded by security when he wasn’t on the carpet for pictures. And he was, until he spotted Flo as a familiar face, and now he’s here talking to you and your best friend. And your inner 16 year old self might just pass out. 

“Nice to meet the both of you.” Harry smiles at Amelia and then yourself before he leans forward to kiss each of your cheeks. Immediately, the subtle hints of vanilla, ginger, and woody scent fills your senses, Christ he smells so nice. You’re also never washing your cheek again. And you’re sure your eyes go wide when he says, “I'm a huge fan of the show.”

“You’ve seen the show?” Amelia beats you to ask. And it’s funny, you glance at her and her eyes are just as wide as yours were. Pull yourself together Y/N/N. You weren’t this bad meeting the man you're in love with.

“Of course. I love what you do so much.” Harry makes both of your days when he says, “I think you’re both the best people doing interviews right now.” 

Amelia’s a little lost for words so she’s happy when you manage to get out, “Thank you so much.”

“It’s so impressive and you’re both so funny.” His smile is just as charming as he is, “I love watching your dates.”

Harry Styles loves watching your dates AHHHHHHHHHH!

“Funny you should say that,” Amelia gets her barings back and charismatically chips back in, “Because we love your music and think you should come on a Chicken Shop Date with us.”

Harry smiles at that, expecting nothing less from you gorgeous, talented women, “When the time is right, I’m all yours.”

You smile, appreciating that a lot, but you promise him, “We’ll hold you to that.”

This time he grins at you, “I don’t doubt you will.”

“We’re seeing you at Wembley in June.” Amelia tells him, letting her excitement shine through a little, which you don’t entirely blame her for. His music means a lot to the both of you. 

“Oh,” He smiles brightly, “It’ll be lovely to have you there.” 

You tell him truthfully, “We’re really excited.” But you won’t forgive yourself if you don’t casually plead, “Please play Only Angel again.” needing to hear that song live.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Harry grins before he gets ushered on by his security. 

Instead of following their orders blindly though, he turns back to the both of you with an apologetic look before grasping both yours and your best friend's hand and giving it a tight squeeze as he sincerely says, “Thank you both so much. Sorry I can’t chat for longer, but I’ll see you in there.”

And he takes your breath away when he kisses the top of both of your hands like prince charming, “It was lovely to meet you both.”

You and your best friend just about get your good lucks and goodbyes out as Harry starts being lead through into the main arena, and as soon as he’s out of sight you turn to each other, wide eyed and say, “What the fuck just happened?!” and, “Oh my fucking god!!” at the same time. 

Even when you turn back to your crew, they’re shocked by the encounter too, all not quite believing their eyes. It takes you all a good 5 minutes to recover before you get back into the swing of things. 

A few more celebs make their way over to you, but nothing sparked joy like catching the eyes of Alex Turner, who despite being on a red carpet, smiled at you and looked like he was (dare you say) excited for an interview. 

“Hello, hello, hello.” You greet the band as they walk up to you, all of them slowly walking into your little corner. Matt and Alex are the ones who have a microphone in hand while Nick and Jamie have their arms behind their backs but kind smiles on their faces.

Amelia beams at them all and greets the drummer, who she’d interviewed when you both were at Reading Fest, “Matt, lovely to see you again.”

“And you Amelia, Y/N.” Matt acknowledges the both of you with a smile and a nod of his head.

“How’ve you been boys?” You ask first to get them all talking, making them feel comfortable with you and Amelia before actually heavily putting on your characters for the interview.

It’s no surprise that you end up bringing up their new album The Car and you’re lucky you and Amelia are good at improvising because you hadn’t planned for these men to be here at all. Thankfully it paid off quite well and you both start rounding off their interview after a few minutes of you both making them laugh.

“Careful when you go inside, Charli XCX is in there.” Amelia begins and after a brief second adds, “She’s got a thing for cars.”

There’s a dazed look from the Monkeys so you deliver another punchline, “Yeah, if she gets her hands on your car she’ll crash it.”

Alex snorts at that, clearly understanding the reference to her album, no doubt thanks to Flo’s influence. The others laugh along, you hope understanding but you remember you have one more trick up your sleeve that will make the band, and you’re sure anyone who knows the history, giggle too. 

“Oh Al,” You turn to grab one of the t-shirts from the display behind you and hand it over to Alex with a subtle smirk, “Think this top is right up your street.”

He takes it and unrolls it, a chuckle making him shake when he reads, ‘I Hate Matty Healy’ printed on the front and he holds it up over his chest, looks at you two, hand on his hip as if modelling it. 

Amelia nods, “Suits you actually.” as you try to keep a straight face.

“Very fitting.” The singer nods as he mumbles into the microphone, before perking up when seeing there’s more of them displayed behind you. “Can I take one for Flo too? I think she’ll like it.” 

“Course.” You smile brightly, turning back around to get another. 

But when you hand Alex the top, Matt brings the mic up to his lips to ask, “You got any more?” 

Amelia raises her brows and asks rather amused, “You all want one?” and when the rest of the band nods, you can’t help but chuckle to yourself.

“Makes sense because they’re up for the same award as you.” You quip back, giving them a perfect idea for when to wear them, “If they win we will put the tops on for you. Rep the brand.”

Alex hums into the mic softly and nods before mumbling, “Shall hold you up to that.” 

You take that as a sign to end your segment with the band there and you bid them farewell with smiles and keeping up your awkward facades, asking them for a date when they leave your sight and making it an underwhelming moment for the sake of the interview. Amelia giggles as she lets her mic fall away from her lips and you giggle with her, a rush of joy running through your veins as you know the carpet is drawing to a close and the awards ceremony is nearing meaning that you’re so close to have accomplished yet another insane goal in your careers once this is over. You quickly reset your set with new ‘I Hate Matty Healy’ tops knowing it can’t be long now until your boys are due over.

You get a few more guests before the band you’ve dedicated so many years of your life to and who hold your heart (now even more so) in their hands appears in your peripherals, and you try not to look startled as you watch the four men walking your way. 

“Oh god…” You hold your breath knowing this is where things are going to get tricky for you. 

Amelia smirks, “This is gonna be good.” knowing that your boyfriend will have nothing good in mind once he gets to see you.

And he already has.

“Fucking hell.” Matty curses under his breath when you come into his view.

During your FaceTime earlier as you were both getting ready in your respective hotel rooms, you didn’t show him your dress, he only saw you getting your makeup done and he told you that you looked beautiful but then you told him he could wait to see your dress. And fucking hell, he wishes that someone would have forewarned him, his dick is already twitching just looking at you. 

You’re wearing a black dress that starts as a tight corset which dramatically emphasises your boobs. But the long skirt that runs down and reaches your heels only covers one of your legs, leaving the other on show, letting everyone see the stockings and suspenders you’re wearing.

Matty’s chest flares with want and need as he can’t take his eyes from you as your team hand him and George the microphones before all of them make their way in shot. And their order ends up being Ross, George, Adam, and then Matty, which you’re thankful for because your boyfriend is furthest away from you with his wandering eyes. 

As the other boys take in your set, Amelia can’t get the grin off her face as she notices Matty can’t take his eyes off you. She grabs the rest of their attention as she knowingly smiles, “Well, hello.” 

“Fancy seeing you here.” You chip in, looking at the stunning men in front of you.

Ross, Adam, and Matty all wear black suits with white shirts, bowties adorning their necks, while George with his freshly bleached hair looks amazing with his black silk shirt open, showing more of his chest and a stunning chain around his neck. Even yellow tinted glasses make him look like the star of the band, something that you’ll make sure you tell him in front of your boyfriend later.

In fact, what's stopping you right now? 

“If I didn’t know better,” You grin, “I’d think you’re the frontman, George. You’re looking very dapper.”

“Really?” The drummer smirks as he asks, catching the look on Matty’s face when he quickly glances around to the rest of them.

“Thinking I should’ve asked you on a date back then.” You clearly flirt but your awkward persona comes into play like the guys had been expecting since they walked over to you and Amelia.

Matty scoffs, “You’re all chat, you said the same thing about Ross.”

With a roll of your eyes, you continue playing into your joke, “Well, maybe I want them both.”

“No double date?” Amelia asks, trying to hide her smirk behind a puzzled look like the possibility of her joining you on a date with Ross and George was more important than wanting to laugh over the clear taunting aimed at your boyfriend.

When Amelia sees you shrugging, she scoffs and turns to the camera to call you out in the meekest tone, “She’s so selfish.”

“Three nominations boys, how are you feeling?” You ask, completely changing the topic of conversation in hopes that if you continue flirting here and there as the interview continues, you’d get some good reactions for the video from your boyfriend. You already can’t wait to edit all of this together.

“Very grateful.” Adam says humbly after George puts the mic close to his mouth as he sees him nod and mumble beside him.

Amelia is the one to turn to them and let them know of the plan you’d played about with the band that had just been in their places a few minutes before, “Just gotta warn you that if you win, we’ve started a new movement with Arctic Monkeys.”

“With the Monkeys?” Ross asks with a half grin on his face, like he’s suspicious of what you’ve been plotting with the band.

Almost immediately after, Matty asks, “And what would that be?”

But he gets no sign of an answer when you shrug nonchalantly, keeping your face blank and making them even more curious with a tantalising, “If I tell, the surprise would be ruined, no?” 

Matty goes to ask but you tut, “You’ll just have to win and see what happens.”

“Are you feeling lucky? I brought my lucky egg, you can rub it so you can find out.” Amelia says, always comically eager to have people rubbing on the lucky egg she brings to red carpets. She turns to grab it from the shelf just behind the bassist, and you really have to stop yourself from giggling at the way she proudly holds the egg up. It’s genuinely like watching someone care for a baby the way your best friend coos over this egg.

“How many people have rubbed this egg?” Ross asks, an eyebrow raised and his dimples showing faintly beneath his beard due to the smirk that breaks on his face. God, you wish Ross would look at you the way he’s looking at Amelia right now.

And you wish you could be as cool about it as she is, keeping her smirk soft and her shrug indifferent as she replies factually, “Most of Hollywood’s walk of fame.”

“So we’re the best?” Matty asks rhetorically, grinning, “I see.”

“If you do say so yourself.” You say with the hint of a smile on your lips, looking your boyfriend in the eye properly for the first time tonight. 

He looks so fucking good, and the lust in his eyes is so easy for you to spot. It makes you want to clench your thighs together, so you look away from him, back to Adam to maintain your on screen persona. You can do this Y/N. You can do this.

As difficult as it is ignoring the man you love, you push on for the sake of the bit. Amelia puts her egg down as you take the lead on your next question.

“You've been coming to the Brits since 2016 and you’ve won at least one award every year you’ve been.” You state the fact, giving way to the beginning of a bit that you hope gives you the reactions you were anticipating when you wrote it down with your best friend.

“Yes.” George and Adam confirm proudly.

Ross teases with a playful, “You’ve done your homework.”

To that Matty smirks, finding the perfect opportunity to pick on you, “With how obsessed she is with us, I doubt she even had to google that.”

You have to bite your tongue to backchat, sticking to finishing your joke as originally planned, putting on a pout as you fake pity for them when you say, “Be a bit embarrassing if you don't win something tonight, wouldn't it?”

A loud scoff comes from your boyfriend, whilst Adam and Ross giggle and George clicks his tongue softly before scolding you, “We won’t win with that attitude.”

“Ah, true forgot you were up against Harry Styles, sorry.” You wince sarcastically and deem it, “No chance there now.” before you give them whiplash again by randomly asking, “So who was your favourite member of One Direction?” 

They chuckle at the sudden ridiculous question, and you have to press your lips together not to cackle at the sound of George’s laughter mixing with the giggles coming from the rest of the boys. Amelia is the one who continues on the topic by warning them, “You better say Harry or I’ll tell on you when we go inside.”

Comically, they play on the joke and all of them start nodding feigning honesty when they start saying, “Oh yes, definitely Harry.” at different times, repeating their words as they look into the camera so it sounds and looks chaotic. 

“That’s right.” Amelia hums in approval, looking at the camera for a split second before turning back to the band with a new question, “Do you guys have any award show rituals? That you do to bring you luck?”

“Other than rubbing your egg?” Ross asks with an incredulous look on his face, it’s almost as if he’s holding back from laughing.

You sigh like the lack of answers is annoying you and roll your eyes to say, “Yes, other than rubbing Amelia's egg.”

To your dismay they shake their heads and all you do is give the camera a look of exasperation, Amelia is the one who makes you look back at them for she looks straight into Ross’ eyes and firmly replies, “Then I think you really should rub my egg.” She grabs it again and without hesitation offers it up to Ross with hopeful eyes. Something which you all end up laughing at.

Matty sees the way Amelia is looking at Ross and he makes a mental note to keep an eye out about it inside the venue. He knows you’re flirting with the bassist for the bit, and though he’s not the biggest fan of that, it’s keeping him the slightest bit amused; but Amelia is fully gawking at him and it almost seems like she keeps scooting closer to him as you all laugh. 

So instead of keeping the teasing for later, Matty starts taunting your best friend right then, “Sounding a little desperate there, Amelia.”

Your best friend surprises him when she goes from eye fucking Ross to glaring at him in a split second, spouting a stern, “Not more than you look.” towards him because she’s seen just how badly your boyfriend can’t keep his eyes away from your figure and how everything he wants to do to you is written all over his face.

Matty’s jaw drops at her words as the other three boys loudly snort at her publicly outing him, but before they can start bickering, you tut and call them out, “Okay pipe down, no cat fights on the red carpet please.” 

George and Ross can’t help their chuckles, Adam’s head hangs as he shakes his head trying to hide the amused grin on his face but his shoulders shake in silent laughter. Matty’s eyes flick from the fake little stare down with Amelia to you where he loses his breath all over again and he can’t help but look you up and down again. You’re so fucking hot.

Before you can break character, you bring up another question you had prepared, “Any collabs you’re looking to secure tonight?”

A chorus of thinking hum sounds come from your left and as Amelia abandons her lucky egg again, George is the first to break the silence as he honestly replies, “Not that we’ve thought of…”

Ross turns to you and Amelia to genuinely try to answer your question by asking first, “Who’s here tonight?”

But before anyone can give a genuine answer, your boyfriend is back to taunting Amelia by saying, “Maybe Aitch, you know. Just to get the group back together.”

You have to give your best friend props for she easily avoids Matty’s comment and acts entirely unaffected. She puts on a pout and there’s fake pity in her voice when she counters with, “Oh no, I’ve literally just given him his stuff back, that’d be awkward.” 

Turning to look at your best friend, you give her a look that you hope she reads because this could be fucking hilarious. You tap your chin with your finger and hum loudly for a few seconds, an exaggeration of thinking of something, before you start talking again, “You need someone that fits your vibes, you know. Someone that compliments you perfectly.”

“Oh, I know,” Amelia grins, offering, “Yungblud.”

It takes everything in you not to burst out laughing when you see your boyfriend’s face drop into an unimpressed look before he rubs his temple like he’s getting a headache from the mere mention of the name and curses under his breath, “Fucks sakes.”

Your blood rushes with excitement when you know exactly what to add to make this even funnier, “If my opinion counts for anything… I reckon it’d be the morally obvious thing to do.”

Knowing exactly what you’re referring to, George and Ross burst out laughing and they turn to see a smirking Matty that’s holding back his own laughter at what he admits was a good joke. You and Amelia, just like Adam, are trying not to laugh but the amused smirks on your faces give you away. It’s so hard not to laugh when George keeps giggling. 

Amelia manages to compose herself before you, but she completely makes your breath hitch when she turns to your boyfriend and asks, “Planning on kissing any fans at the after party?”

“Just the one.” Matty cheekily replies, a smirk on his face when his gaze falls on you with a hungry look on his face that threatens you to lose your composure. He shrugs nonchalantly as he adds, “Might take her to a chicken shop on the way home…”

You purse your lips as you hum, taking in what he’s saying but acting a fool, pretending not to get the hint and stating, “Lucky one.” with your brows raised in challenge. But Matty notes the hint of jealousy in your voice.

Of course, he wasn’t gonna give it to you easily, not when you’ve been teasing him and flirting with his best mates when you look like that tonight. “Wish I was taking you?” He asks, a challenging look of his own on his face. It only encourages you to play dirtier. 

“Wish Ross was taking me.” You quip back, biting your bottom lip when you see him clenching his jaw at the ease of your answer.

And thank god for Ross knowing exactly what you’re trying to do because he adds more fuel to the fire, asking with a raised eyebrow and a sultry tone, “In more ways than one?”

Even knowing that it’s just a joke, the bassist’s voice manages to get you flustered and Matty seethes seeing the effect Ross has on you even though it’s not that noticeable as you confidently reply, “Many more.”

For the sake of the bit (definitely not driven by the need to stop this and have Ross’ attention back on her), your best friend adds her two cents into the conversation, “But you gotta go on a chicken shop date first.”

“Is that a requirement?” Ross questions her with a brow raised.

“Yes.” Amelia says at the same time as you say, “No.”

Ross presses his lips together when the two of you frown at each other, trying not to laugh as he asks again, “So yes or no?”

“Yes.” Amelia says again and you gasp at her response, almost whining when you go against her words again, “No, she’s trying to sabotage me.”

“She’s dramatic.” Amelia sighs and rolls her eyes at the camera, another gasp coming from you when Matty mumbles a, “Yes.” into the mic.

Narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend for a few seconds, you turn to Amelia and say, “You wanna know drama? There’s drama?” You point an accusing finger Matty’s way and he of course feigns innocence. 

“Me?” He asks in a gasp, “Not me.” But Adam, George and Ross easily agree with you, nodding and concurring that your boyfriend is indeed a drama queen. 

“Without me your lives would be so boring.” The curly headed singer at the edge of the group says, an offended frown on his face that makes you want to laugh.

Ross rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Sure, what would we do without you?” Matty’s mouth falls open at his sarcastic words and Ross puffs his chest out like he’s not taking back what he’s just said. It’s so funny seeing them bicker like children. 

But before you entirely lose grasp on the dynamics of the interviews you usually conduct with Amelia here, you’re the one to ask yet another question. One that was completely improvised but that you hope you can steer into a funny bit. 

“Ross, will you be letting your hair down tonight?” You ask, silently hoping and praying the answer is yes. 

“Depends if we win,” Ross smiles and shrugs, “Could be on the cards.”

“You should, it looks very lucious.” Amelia proudly flirts, “Best hair in the band award would definitely go to you.”

You don’t miss the way the bassists cheeks turn to a hint of pink, and you’re half jealous that Amelia's gotten that reaction out of him. You can’t help but watch them like a TV show as you hear Matty scoff under his breath, “I don't think.” and God you hope the microphone picked it up.

“Speaking of,” To add fuel to the fire, you continue to ask the rest of the band with a smirk on your lips, “Quickfire questions for you… Matty’s worst hairstyle, go!”

The way Matty’s face falls is comical. He looks so offended you’ve even asked that, he’s never even heard you talk about his hair in a negative way except for your clear distaste for when he gels it back, hence why he’d left his curls alone tonight, all he’s done is style them a bit. 

“Easy.” George comes in straight off the bat, “When he looked like a mushroom.”

It takes everything in you not to burst out laughing at the comment and the way you see your boyfriend's head snap towards his best friend. The look of betrayal just gets more intense as your bit continues. 

“Ha, yes mushroom and microphone head over here.” Amelia agrees with George in a split second and you nod too, a wicked smirk on your face when you catch the look on your boyfriend’s face as you wish for this to continue.

“No come on, it was when he looked like a pot noodle for a few months. That was dire.” Ross groans at the memory of his blond long curls, shaking his head in disapproval as he makes eye contact with a very offended Matty.

Matty frowns looking at you and Amelia like you’ve just killed his dog as he complains, “This just turned into a slag Matty off fest or…?”

Holding back your smile, you’re thankful that it doesn’t deter the rest of the band from carrying on bullying their friend. In fact, Adam, the absolute legend, goes straight for Matty’s throat. 

“If we’re being real, that mohawk made him look like a brush,” The guitarist tells you, pulling no punches when he adds, “Was ready to sweep the floor with his head.”

The laugh that bubbles through you then is something you can’t hold back, and everyone but Matty joins in with loud cackles that make the scene feel so familiar, you almost forget that you’re at the Brits red carpet and not on the tour bus on the way to some city in the UK.

“Careful he’ll lock you back up in his basement Adam.” Amelia jokes and it makes the guitarist snort at the mention of a joke he’s seen around twitter so often.

Everyone’s attention is back on you when you tut loudly as you shake your head, “These are all very good answers but I'm afraid you’re all wrong. The right answer is clearly that rat tail back in 2020.” You fake a shiver that definitely would’ve ran down your spine if you were to see a picture of that hairstyle again.

Groans break out around the group, everyone nodding and siding with you but what you’re not expecting is for your boyfriend to narrow his eyes at you and threaten, “Carry on and it’ll come back.”

You don’t leave room for that to even become a possibility as you sternly state, “No it won't.”

Matty challenges you with a smirk on his face,“Wanna bet?” 

One that you match when you challenge him back, folding your arms, “Wanna lose a girlfriend?”

“You wouldn’t.” He says breathily, shocked at the way you just threw that out there.

Eyes narrowing again, you nonchalantly shrug and let him know he’s on, “Thin ice tonight.” and he feels the blood rushing through his veins heating up at the way you’re looking him up and down as if sizing him up.

“Why?” He frowns, questioning your words.

You shrug and your tone makes it sound like it’s obvious, “Your hair is styled.”

He scoffs entirely amused and his cheeks heat as he’s fully aware of everyone’s gazes going from him to you like a tennis match, “You expect me to win an award with my hair looking like I’ve just rolled out of bed?”

This is the only time you struggle to find your words, and your answer is so weak that it makes everyone hold back their laughter, “The fans would appreciate it more.”

It’s so transparent, Matty is the one to tease you for everyone with the most sarcastic tone he could muster, “Yeahhhh, the fans.” 

He knows damn well all that’s going through your head is how badly you want to pull on his hair, and he wants that too; for you to pull on his hair as he disappears beneath your skirt and you make a mess of his pretty face as you cum on it.

“Domesticsss.” Amelia sing-songs in the middle of it all, looking into the camera with an expression that will definitely make you burst out laughing when you’re editing this video.

As a joke of wanting to protect her from the bickering between you and your boyfriend, Ross hooks his arm with Amelia’s and pulls her away as they start shuffling towards the side of your interview area so they can escape, “Dimz, come with us.”

Your staring battle with Matty is cut short when you see them walking her past you, you wrap your fingers around her wrist and pull her back towards you, “She’s staying with me.”

Amelia giggles in the middle of the predicament she’s in, but of course Ross lets her go with an exaggerated sigh for the camera and mumbles something into the mic that you don’t catch before he lets Amelia free from his grasp and she happily scoots back closer to you. 

“Okay, that’s it I guess.” Amelia says with an awkward smile on her face, “Off you go.” 

She shoos them away and you wave at them with the same blank expression which makes them all laugh as they start walking in front of you towards your crew.And there’s a bit of relief that floods you when you know their interview is over. 

As you say a very flat, “Byeeeeee…” all you can think of is how glad you are that you didn’t break character and that it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be to ignore your boyfriend as much as you tried to.

It’s a relief it ended up being quite funny too and you’re so happy you got all that on camera despite definitely knowing that not everything was going to be in the final cut of the video. You can’t wait to edit all this tomorrow, it’s going to be so much fun. 

“What's all that then?” Ross asks as they’re walking away, finally getting to see the display of tops which slander his best mate that has been hiding behind you the whole time.

You turn slightly and showcase it by extending your hand beside it, “Our display, do you like it?”

Ross laughs and nods his head as he starts being ushered away, “Brilliant,” Is what you hear him say before he walks further behind the cameras. George hands someone beside your camera man his microphone and follows the bassist, not before giggling about the display and Adam does the same before following George’s path.

But of course, once he sees it, Matty can’t leave it looking like that. 

“Here, thank you.” He hurriedly says as he hands the mic back, before turning to you and Amelia and come back in shot to correct your set. He doesn’t hesitate to go behind you to your display while stating confidently, “I’ll fix this for you.”

With a speed that makes you want to laugh, he plucks the top that’s folded to show the ‘Hate’ so that it shows ‘Healy’ instead and places it under the one that says ‘Matty’, leaving your display to just say ‘I (blank) Matty Healy’. 

You and Amelia watch expectantly as he reaches for another place on the shelves, grabbing something you don’t really notice before going back behind you and it’s when he places it in the empty spot that you realise what he’s done. 

Matty has put a pair of heart shaped sunglasses in between the ‘I’ and ‘Matty’, leaving your display to say ‘I heart Matty Healy’ in an improvised attempt.

He gives himself a second to look at his creation proudly, turning to the camera and giving it a thumbs up before dashing away from the place you and Amelia take on the red carpet. 

“Of course.” You scoff into the microphone, both you and your best friend shaking your head as if disapproving the whole thing.  

Amelia makes her joke audible by saying, “He can keep lying to himself.” right after. 

But you can’t go along with the joke at your boyfriend’s expense because he comes back in a hurry.

“Now what?” You quickly ask, sighing like you’re exasperated by his return.

But you’re not expecting what he’s about to do when he snatches the microphone from your hands and breathily says, “Forgot this.” into it before handing it blindly to Amelia. 

In a split second he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and cupping your face with his other hand, catching your lips in a hungry kiss and he dips forward so your arms fly around his neck, he swallows the small shriek that falls from your lips.

Everything escapes you when his lips are on yours. Suddenly, the only thing that you know is that your boyfriend has you clutched tight against him and his mouth is moving eagerly with yours, his tongue teasing your bottom lip and you part your mouth to welcome him without even thinking that this is all happening in front of the cameras which are still rolling.

You don’t even hear the surprised, “Oh!” that Amelia lets out as your kiss grows hotter in a matter of seconds, but before it can all come back to you, Matty lifts and twists you to stand back up straight and pulls back. The smack of your mouths separating pierces the silence that has fallen around you, and he drops one last peck on your lips before he runs away once again, leaving you no time to even question what’s happened. 

Amelia pushes the mic into your hands, seeing that you’re too busy being dumbstruck after that steamy kiss to continue your job for the night. The feel of the mic between your fingers brings you back halfway, your gaze moving slowly from your smirking best friend to the camera where your cameraman behind it can’t help but laugh when you’re just blinking at the lenses like a fool for a good minute.

“Ermm… I think we can say tonight has left us speechless.” Amelia quips to the camera before elbowing you to snap out of your trance. 

Jesus Christ, your boyfriend is gonna be the death of you.

~*~*~*~

“Hey baby.” Matty greets you with a smirk, he can’t help but gawk at you all over again and his teeth sink on his bottom lip when he sees those stockings and garters you have under your stunning dress. He can’t wait to go home, after party be damned. 

“How’d it go?” He asks wholeheartedly when you take a seat beside him, his hand instantly coming over your exposed thigh to rub circles on your skin.

You scoff when he acts as if he hadn’t ruined your facade when he pulled that little stunt on you earlier, “Went great other than you embarrassing me.” 

“You loved it.” Your boyfriend rolls his eyes and refutes you with ease, smirking as he states, “The romantic in you wanted to be swept off your feet tonight.” He leans in closer to you and starts kissing from your cheek down your jaw until he reaches your neck and there he nuzzles his face into it, his curls tickling you and making you inevitably erupt in giggles. 

Proud of his effect on you, he leans back slightly and steals a kiss that you just can’t deny because you’ve been thinking of that mouth since he shocked you with that kiss as he was leaving the red carpet.

He’s got you dizzy even before you take a sip of alcohol, and your skin lights up in flames from his fingers tightly clutching your neck. You can’t help but be the one to deepen the kiss, to let him know you feel just the same need as him and even considering skipping the after party entirely just to have him the way you want all night and at the earliest convenience.

But when you pull back and he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, you know that he’s got no issues trying to have you even earlier. Right now. His hand slowly falls from your neck, down your shoulder and arm until he can intertwine your fingers together.

You clench your thighs taking in the lust that has blown his pupils, the way his tongue licks at his lips like he’s indulging in the taste of your mouth even after your lips have separated. He’s eating you up with his eyes and you know him so well, you can almost hear him saying all that he wants to do with you, especially in this dress.  

“Don’t even think about it Healy, I gotta give this dress back when the event is over.” You rest your finger over his lips and warn him with a smirk that you can’t hold back. 

“But-” He fights immediately, his hand squeezing yours like it can help convince you otherwise.

You tut, “No. This is archive Vivienne Westwood and so is Amelia’s. Imagine how much I’d have to pay if I even spill a drink on it.” You tell him as you move your hand away from his lips.

“I don’t care, I can pay.” Matty says easily, rolling his eyes and smirking like he finds your concern over its cost funny or even endearing.

“Sure you can.” You sarcastically reply, a chuckle falling from your lips.

Your amusement dies when he leans back in and his lips brush yours when he starts saying, “There’s no amount of money I wouldn’t be willing to spend on you, baby.” He only leans back a few inches to look you up and down, his eyes almost rolling back in pleasure and a groan rumbling through his chest when he has an eyeful of your cleavage. “Especially not if it means I get to taste you under the skirt of this pretty dress when you look like this.”

Before your boyfriend has a chance to laugh at the way you choke on your breath when he says that, his attention is taken by a familiar face. And you must admit, you're thankful for the distraction, because you think you’d be willing to let him take you somewhere in this huge venue and have his way with you after that comment. 

Alex Turner says hello to the table and eventually stops beside Matty where they hug again and just like you, Matty was surprised to see him here. He asks about where they’re seated and of course about Flo, and when he points out the table, not too far from your own at all, your previous interaction with the artist comes back to the forefront of your mind.

Matty waves over at Flo when Alex points out their table which is diagonal and just a table further in front of yours. You smile brightly back over to her, but then you remember who she introduced you to and you immediately go serious again when you turn to your curly haired brunette.

“You didn’t tell me that Flo knew Harry Styles.” You halfheartedly punch your boyfriend's arm.

“She doesn’t really…” Matty trails off, rubbing his arm and looks at Alex for confirmation of that and he nods, which confuses you even more.

You have to ask, “She met him here with you, right?”

You remember those Brits very well. It’s hard to forget the ‘that rock n’ roll ey’ speech and the shock of seeing who you thought was Matty's girlfriend kiss Alex Turner on TV.

“Yeah, 2014 Brits and I think that’s it.” Alex nods, entirely sure of himself as he has never recalled his wife mentioning that she’d met the popstar after then. 

But you’re not having it. 

Just as George comes up and says hello to Alex too, you think back to the encounter that you witnessed not long ago and tell them what happened. That’s not something you’d blush because of one previous interaction. 

“No, she blushed when he spoke to her. They definitely know each other.” Your eyes are wide and your tone entirely confident when you tell them. Perplexed and confused is the only way you’re able to describe their faces. You continue to tell the three men, “They talked to each other like they actually knew each other. Said that they last saw each other in 2016. In Jamaica.”

At that you watch both lead singers' faces fall entirely, and for a split second you're left wondering what you said wrong as they both gormlessly look at you.

The drummer tunes into the conversation, his eyes wide and shocked, “Did you just say Jamaica?”

You nod, confirming what you heard of the earlier conversation and the three men all look between each other and a few scoffs manage to escape from their lips. What the fuck is going on? You can’t help but think. George, Matty, and Alex all look at each other with their mouths wide and Matty says a quiet, “Surely not.” before Alex’s gaze falls back on you to double check, “Are you sure she said Jamaica?”

“He said Jamaica and she agreed.” You promise them, entirely confident in your response. 

 Alex looks at Matty and almost scoffs,“I can’t fucking believe it.”

Your boyfriend is entirely just lost for words, while George is the one who laughs in disbelief, “I can’t believe we finally know who Jamaica was.” 

“Woah, what?” Your voice raises a little now, a look in your eye that Matty knows means you need to know what's happening. 

Your curly haired brunette finds his voice again, and he’s the one who tells you, “Way back when, Wheels told us all that she signed an NDA on her holiday to Jamaica because she had fun with a celebrity she couldn’t name. And she’s never once told us who it was and now you’ve spilled the beans.”

No. Fucking. Way.

“You mean that Flo and Harry Styles have…?” You trail off, keeping your voice low, not quite believing what you’re actually alluding to. 

Surely not. Surely there’s not a woman alive who can be that fucking lucky. But all three men nod, still looking dazed. Your jaw falls and all you can think is, that woman is living her best fucking life. 

“You’re kidding.” You say, hoping you’re misunderstanding because you’re about to lose your shit.

“We’re not.” Alex tells you and it’s only then that you fully believe and process what you’re hearing. You hand flies over your mouth, “Fuck off.”

And you don’t even hesitate to start walking over to her, and you do so like you’re on a mission. Which you guess you are, a recon mission most definitely. 

“Florence. Turner.” You say in what you can only describe as a teacher's voice, and you sit beside her in Alex’s seat as you scorn her as quietly as you can, “You lucky little bitch, I want to be you. You lucky cow!”

She looks appropriately confused considering you’ve given her no context for your outburst. She chuckles, “What’s all this?”

“Alex Turner. Matty Healy. Harry fucking Styles!” You hold up a finger for each of the men she’s had sex with.“Florence, how do you get these men?!”

“Shhhhh!” Her eyes go wide, and panic is clear to see in her eyes as she whisper shouts at you, “How do you know about that?!”

“I asked the guys how you knew Harry so well and they were confused saying you didn’t. But you were blushing so hard back there so I-”

“I didn’t blush.” She interrupts, entirely adamant that she didn’t but you know better. 

And you don’t blame her for blushing. If you’d fucked Harry Styles years ago and the first time you were seeing him since was at an awards show, married, and pregnant, you’d be blushing too.

“Hun,” You give her a look of disbelief, telling her honestly, “You went as red as a tomato when Jamaica was mentioned.”

“Oh god,” Her hands fly to her temples, eyes wide and then she looks at you dead in the eye. She glances over at the 1975 table where her husband also is, but she turns back to look at you before she even gets to see them. Flo has to ask, “They all know?”

You press your lips together, feeling bad you accidentally split her secret to some of her closest friends, her ex, and her husband/baby daddy. “I’m sorry,” You apologise, but she waves you off, not offended that you’ve let it slip, she’s just mortified that something else related to who she's slept with has come to light at yet another Brit Awards. 

Flo can’t help but think, At least I’ll have the baby as my excuse never to come to another.

Interrupting her thought process though, you can’t help but ask, “On a serious note, is Watermelon Sugar about you?”

“Y/N/N,” Her eyes soften and she sounds as if she's trying not to laugh when she grabs a hold of your hand and starts, “I love you but-”

“No buts!” You stop her, this is serious and there’s no way you’ll be able to function for the rest of the night without getting some clarity. “It’s about you, isn’t it?”

“I’m fairly certain I’m not the only person he’s gone down on in the last six years.” She explains slowly like she was trying to make a child understand how time works.

But you’re far too gone in shock and you can’t help but chat back, “The song came out in 2019. That's enough time to have a song written about you.” A few beats of silence pass since she doesn’t answer and you’re left trying to get a grasp of what you’ve just discovered, “Can’t believe Harry fucking Styles has gone down on you.” 

Flo blushes again, but instead of turning into a stuttering mess, she owns it and coyly smirks at you, “He did more than that.”

Your jaw falls again, “I’m so jealous!”

She can’t help but laugh at that, but she shakes her head and rests her hand on your thigh, “Love, you don’t have to be jealous, Matty's tongue is just as good.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Ah, no buts.” Flo interrupts, not letting you go down that route when she knows just how lucky you are. But she can understand the shock and the need to know, so she promises you, “I’ll tell you all about Jamaica when we’re not about to be on TV, okay?”

You hold out your little finger, wanting her to pinky swear, and it may be childish of you but you think your blossoming friendship can handle it. The gesture seems to light up the artist's eyes because she doesn’t hesitate to hook her pinky around yours, a silent promise confirmed between you. Your little moment ends up being interrupted by a husband with a knowing look in his eye. Alex shakes his head at his wife in fake disappointment, “I can’t believe you.” He looks down and takes his wife’s free hand, “All this time and it was that obvious.”

Clearly past the point of being embarrassed, Flo just shrugs and smirks at her husband, “Sorry Shakespeare.” 

“Is that the reason why you wanted to come back this year, Angel?” You watch as Alex teases her when she stands up and wraps her arms around his neck as his wrap around her waist. His smirk is huge as he presses on, “Being that your fling is up for four awards.”

“You’re up for two.” She reminds him, her fingers deftly brushing his hair from his face. 

“Two that we won't win.” Alex hums, and you can’t help but see just how enamoured he is by her. 

He looks at her as if she’s the only person in the room. As if her smile lights up the entire universe and they’re the only two that matter. She’s his entire world, and it’s so clear to see. 

“Love you all the same.” Flo grins, her fingers routing into her husband's hair. 

His whole face lights up as if it’s the first time he’s hearing her tell him. And he doesn’t hesitate for a second to tell her, “Love you more Angel.” And he leans in to kiss his stunning wife. 

They are somehow cuter than Adam and Carly, and George and Charli. They are the epitome of couple goals and it’s making you long for your boyfriend. 

So before they have a chance to fully immerse themselves into their kiss, you quickly stand and ruin their moment. 

“You’re both disgustingly cute,” You tell them and they don’t for a second look like they mind the halfhearted insult. All Flo does is hug her husband closer and melt into his arms when he kisses her temple as she looks to you. 

You bid the couple farewell when you say, “I’ll see you at the afterparty,” but you look at the artist as you remind her of her promise, “Where we will be having a conversation.”

You turn to start heading back until you hear Flo tease you, “If Matty doesn’t take you straight home to get you out of that dress.”

“He’s already been told no.” You chuckle but you’re getting flustered all over again when remembering his words from just before this whole Jamaica thing had been brought to light.

Flo notices the way you take a deep breath and how it hitches in your throat, and she can’t help but find it funny. She can see it wouldn’t take much to persuade you, so she teases you further, “It’s never stopped him beforeeee.”

Knowing she’s talking from past experience has you losing your mind. Clearly, you’re going to be in for a night to remember when you get back home. But before you give her the chance to catch you flushing over your boyfriend and his horniness, you note that Alex is frowning at his wife after that comment which you can’t help but find funny considering the long history. 

You point at her and playfully sing-song, “I think you’re on thin ice.” as you nod to her husband. You hear her laughing as you turn back and retreat back to your table, where your boyfriend is waiting for you eagerly with a huge grin and his arm over the back of your chair. 

The night grows more and more entertaining as time goes on. The performances are amazing and the speeches make you giggle, as well as the interviews around the place that are fucking hilarious thanks to the Brits feeding alcohol to celebrities all night without being frugal with it. The absolute chaos the Brits bring is just so refreshing compared to American awards. 

All of which Charli has been capturing on her digital camera, the one you have been handed multiple times tonight to capture pictures of everyone around the table. Charli has taken so many of you and Matty, you and Amelia and many selfies that have had the boys creasing all night. You cannot wait to post them on your Instagram when Charli sends them to you next week. 

It was sad seeing both the 1975 and the Monkeys not taking the trophies home but you definitely gasped and yelled when Wet Leg won and they recited Alex’s infamous rock and roll speech from 2014. You started cackling more at it when you saw Flo cry laughing at it and cheering them on all while taking the piss out of her husband even more.

By the time Selin Hizli and Daisy May Cooper made it up on the stage and presented the nominees for Best Rock / Alternative Act, you’re messing about with everyone on the table. You, of course, cheer loudly when the nominees are shown and the two bands you’re rooting for flash on the screen but you’re not expecting either of them to win solely from how the night has gone so far. 

So when the envelope is opened and the winner is announced and you hear a loud, “The 1975!” you rise from your seat like the whole table does and throw yourself into your boyfriend’s arms. It’s a quick embrace as the room erupts in cheers, but you can’t help but cup Matty’s face softly and pull him in for a short sweet kiss followed by, “Congratulations, baby.” before you hug George and Adam. 

Ross is the furthest away so you manage to just blow him a kiss, but your boyfriend steals one more from you before he and the boys head to the stage to accept their award.

You can’t help but grin watching Flo stand up to hug the boys as they walk past. But you let out a loud cackle when Matty pulls back from the hug and cups her face and pretends to go in for a proper kiss, making Flo squeal and slap your boyfriend’s arm playfully. 

Adding to taunting Flo’s Brit experiences makes everyone laugh and when Matty waves the joke off and kisses her cheek instead she accepts it and moves him on so she can hug Ross. Despite that though you see Matty lean down and whisper into Alex’s ear, and when the singer laughs at whatever your boyfriend says it makes their table burst out laughing when Matty kisses Alex’s cheek with as much emphasis as he did Flo’s. 

As you turn to hold Charli while you watch the boys hug the actresses on stage, you glance back at Flo and Alex and cackle when Florence unfolds the top and puts it over her chest and sticks her tongue out at you. ‘I hate Matty Healy’ proudly being waved for all to see. 

Charli turns to see it too and laughs with you, catching Amelia and Carly’s attention who also join in the giggles. You, Charli, and Amelia grab yours from where you put them near the centre of the table and hold yours up to your chests too so you stand in alliance with the Monkeys like you promised. 

People around you laugh, and Carly takes a picture of the three of you like that, reminding you that you have to get a picture of the three of you and Florence in your tops before you leave. Looking back at the Monkeys table, you blow Flo a kiss that she reciprocates and Alex laughs as he shakes his head at his wife. 

Your attention goes back to the stage when you hear your boyfriend start talking and you put the top back on the table as tears well up in your eyes at the sight. You’re so fucking proud of him and the boys, all of them incredibly talented gifting everyone their art wholeheartedly every time without fail, their passion for what they do seeping through every song they make and that’s what you’ve always adored about them.

Your chest swells with pride and your eyes are teary, you manage to grab your phone and start recording as they get off stage and come back to the table. 

Matty hadn’t been able to tear his gaze off you when he was up there and he still isn’t able to stop looking at you, beaming at him with those eyes of yours gleaming under the lights. 

Oxygen escapes him all over again when all of you come back into view, and he’s so glad you’re still recording because he knows you’ll have captured the way you turn him entirely stupid at the mere sight of you. That gorgeous face of yours that he wants to kiss until you push him away, that neck that he’s dying to mark up, that body that makes him lose control of any logic, those arms and hands that hold him the way he’s been craving his whole life. 

He loves you so fucking much, his chest tightens at the thought of telling you right now. 

But before he can even open his mouth, you’re throwing yourself on his arms again and pouncing on his lips without a second to doubt your actions.

Your arms wrap around his neck and his wrap around your waist, the kiss tastes salty from the stray tears that have finally managed to run down your cheek and sweet like all the wine you’ve drank tonight. 

Despite the very large crowd you’ve got around you, you haven’t got it in you to hide away from the PDA this time. You kiss each other slowly and tenderly, like you have all the time in the world. 

And well, you do because Matty can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather than with you. Holding you like this, kissing you like this, sharing his proudest moments with you just like he has shared his struggles with you. 

He fucking loves you, adores you with all he has and nothing’s ever felt so right.

“I adore you.” He mumbles into your lips when he breaks the kiss, your chests rising and falling in rhythm as you take deep breaths.

“Adore you too.” You say back with a massive smile before catching his lips again.  Matty’s heart feels like it’s about to burst at its seams, and it’s nothing to do with the award that he won only two minutes ago. He’s got you and he knows that having you by his side will forever be more than enough. Nothing and no one can compare and he’s certain not a single thing could make him happier. He loves you so so much, all he can do is hope that when he says it, you will make his dreams come true by saying those three words back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: We really hope you enjoyed this one! So sorry it took so long, we promise that it won't take that long for the next one. Can't believe we're coming to the end of this fic, we'll be getting emotional over it soon ahaha. Thank you so much for baring with us and for reading. Please let us know what you thought and we hope you loved it xx

P.S: NRIACC girlies, hope you enjoyed this one too xoxoxoxox 

Taglist: @kennedy-brooke​ @faveficz​ @indierockgirrl​ @slutformattyhealy​ @kmsmedine @cecefaith​ @benkidgenius @avasjunkpile​ @spicyraccoonlordking​ @lizzylynch1​ @ofbluesandyellows​ @kipperthedog2004​ @slutforcoffein​ @madamedesmond​ @iamhallucinationnn @imagines4peeps @siwiecola​ @eaglestar31 @neverlieliliac​ @olliewhinchester​ @internetmultifandomfangirl @wellwellhereiam​ @dania7361 @kurdtbean @mawanji @jazzymariexoxoc @picklesandsprinkles @home-of-disaster​ @maelialuv​ @londonalozzy​ @ker0senebunny​ @golden-hoax​ @thouarntsage​ @belledawnidk​ @confusedcrayon​ @how2understand​ @harringt8ns​ @sheisaaantisocial​ @brumantrack @real-actual-human-person​ @eddiemunsonsgroupie @hemmings8376​ @darlingbravebelle @defnotgracee​ @fabulouslyflamboyant5 

@deamus-liv​ @itsjustsocialimplications​ @deamus-liv​ @itsjustsociallimplications​ @lauren--maex​ @ithinkivegonemad11​ @stclen-sweethearts​ @stuck-in-fictional-worlds @befrwime​ @getbillzoned​ @hazskillerqueen​ @conanbeshifting​ @thereisaplaceintheheart​ @jasmine06blog​ @blancastans​​ @luvrattyhealy @wendyspotatopeeler​​ @oh-caro​ @journey-to-consistency​ @kizzywh​ @ihatemat-tyhealy​ @l0ve-0f-my-life @julezs-bl0g @geeksareunique @eddiemunsonsgroupie @procrastinatinglikeapro @inlovewrobin @houseofdilfs @wh0re4zaynmalik @qtheressurections @hrryshoney

Please let either of us know if you want to be added to the Taglist x

#matty healy #matty #healy #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #1975 #matty the 1975 #matty 1975 #1975 matty #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy fluff #matty healy drabble #matty healy blurb #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #iliwys #abiior #noacf #bfiafl #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann

[moonsaver]

sunday... celebrating valentines day... I beg

Ask and you shall receive. Unfortunately i am very unaccustomed to valentines traditions, so please forgive me if this writing is more words strung together than actual content.

---

Sunday isnt exactly fond of PDA, mainly because of the risks.

But it is technically for one day, despite the fact there are many things that are calculated and take place in one day, he knows its an endearing celebration that means more in action than in name.

Thus, he decides with a good minute of thinking – he shall make room in his schedule of daily affairs for you.. as long as you don't mind the fact its for barely 3 system hours.

Don't get him wrong. Unfortunately, Sunday would like to keep you out of prying eyes, so one system hour is dedicated and well planned into checking out clothing stores of all kinds. Even if it draws a bit of attention, he strategically places a few Bloodhound guards around the centres and plazas.

And the other 2 (system) hours are well spent in private behind closed doors. His schedule for the next few days is quite thoroughly packed, so he makes sure to satisfy you enough before he has to busy himself. Lovingly peppers kisses all over you. Brushes his lips against your knuckles, inciting a soft chuckle from you. He brushes through your hair, watches you model every piece of clothing you brought, suggests certain combinations, and discusses all sorts of things with you. For this moment, you have his full attention, not a single thought is spared for any other business official or representative he has to speak to. Only you.

You didn't realise how.. intense his gaze can be, as you accidentally make eye contact with him while speaking and suddenly get thrown into a trance. He asks you what's wrong and you snap out of it, laughing awkwardly and looking somewhere else, trying to hastily get back on track. Suddenly.. your legs feel like jelly under his gaze.. your palms are sweaty.. was his gaze always this.. mesmerizing? You feel almost selfish for wanting it on you for longer. You look to see if he's still staring at you, and it seems like he hasn't moved a single inch, despite the fact you've been talking for 15 minutes straight about who-knows-what, and he hasn't said a single word. You should probably go back in and try another piece of clothing for him.

And he stops you before you go in, and asks to see what you're about to try on. He stands near the door, almost expectantly as you put it on and come out. He knows you'll need help. The strings on your back won't tie themselves, after all. Especially since he requested to do it for you. You almost squeak at the feeling of his gloved hands making quick work of the string on your back, gently feeling the curve of your spine after he's done. Trailing up to the bottom of your neck, dancing across your shoulders. You can practically feel his gaze scan your body underneath the clothing. He retracts his fingers and asks you to turn around. You hope he doesn't notice your heated face.

And it might feel overwhelming and awkward at first (for the lack of a better word), not being used to his full 100% attention. He knows it, and tries to smoothly make up for it by initiating most of the conversation, but deep down does feel a tinge of guilt at not being able to do it often.

He is very adept with his fingers. Take that as you will, but for now, lets focus on the more sfw side.

He probably knows origami quite well. Makes a few small, mini figures and guides you on how to make them, praising you softly in a slightly professional tone. It may seem awkward at first, but he's trying to praise you genuinely. He makes more conversation and jokes along the way, and kisses the side of your head every time you make a successful paper figure, even if it's just as simple as a mashed up paper star. Efforts are well appreciated by Sunday.

At the end of the day, once you are thoroughly exhausted, he lays you down anywhere soft – usually the couch (as unromantic as it sounds), and sits beside you. He talks in a very soft, gentle voice, which surprisingly lulls you to sleep very well. If you focus on his sweet-nothings, you realise his casual conversation has turned into sweet, heart-melting appreciation of you. He recounts every detail – when he met you, where it was, conversations between you two that constantly spin in his head. Before you know it – you're asleep. He kisses your forehead, drapes a blanket on you, leaves your Valentine's day handwritten card on the desk with an elegant box of chocolates right beside it. Who knew Sunday was so adept at making chocolate? It's quite rich in flavor, too. Perhaps.. these are meant to be shared at night?

#moonink #hsr #hsr sunday #honkai star rail sunday #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr sunday x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr sunday x you #hsr sunday x y/n #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #sunday hsr #sunday x reader

[tkaulitzlvr]

loved your new fic :) was wondering if you could possibly make a part two of it that would just be the morning after with lots of fluff n cute stuff as they just got back together?

obviously it’s absolutely your choice & there is no rush at all <3

SORRY (2) - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: for the first time in over a month, you wake up beside tom. at first, you are unsure of what to make of the situation, tom quick to reassure you.

content: fluff

a/n: thanku so much!! part 2 to this - i feel like i hardly write fluff and all my page is smut (it gets a little boring sometimes) so decided to write this req to compensate for the lack of fluff i post. this is something a little short, but hope u enjoy!! 💞

warmth. the first thing i am able to register when my body begins to stir, eyes fluttering open and shut on the verge of consciousness is the heat that envelops my skin. the feeling is foreign, almost new to me, though somewhere within the haze i find the familiarity of it all, gaze slowly falling downward to find a pair of arms wrapped securely around my waist, the person who they belong to also just as close, soft breathing tickling the skin of my neck as his head rests beside it. i probably would pay little attention to the increase in temperature as i wake, if i hadn’t done so alone the past month, usually greeted with the harsh realisation that tom wasn’t mine anymore - until now.

but i don’t feel secure, nor happy, that i wake up beside the man that i love, as i had thought i would if the day ever came that i managed to get him back. instead, i feel strangely out of place, thousands of questions circling my mind as this situation leaves me more confused than ever. sure, i remember the night we shared, the passion, the raw emotion - it is one that cannot be mistaken for anything but truth, because if tom was lying about what he had told me, then god, he’s a pretty fucking good actor. hell, even i couldn’t brush his words aside ‘they weren’t you’. how could i? he had told me exactly what i wanted to hear, and yet i lay here, not as ecstatic as i should be, my heart failing to burst with joy at the sudden confession that he still loves me. he knows that he leads me blindly, his words sweet as honey, meaningful as gospel, igniting the dull flame within me whether they were true or not - i am far too devoted to consider their credibility.

tom however, clearly isn’t overthinking half as much as i am. his mouth agape, obnoxiously loud snores escaping from it, his body tangled within the sheets and my own - he probably wouldn’t notice if a burglary happened right next to him. hesitant to wake him, the idea of facing the awkwardness that will arise from whatever happened last night makes my stomach churn with utter dread. so i lay silently, eyes fixed to the ceiling, looking for any distraction from my wondering mind, though the quiet doesn’t help, fuelling the ‘what if’s’ that continue to give me nothing but a massive headache, eager for the remedy that is his consolation.

the secure grip around my waist begins to tighten, too much for it to be accidental. silently praying that he is just stirring in his sleep, my body stays still, head betraying my mind as it slowly turns to face him, only to be met with his own eyes fluttering open, a low groan leaving his lips as he stretches out.

“morning leibe.” he states so nonchalantly it is almost like we had never broken up, his lips nearing my own as they attempt to pull me into a kiss. i turn my head, slightly hesitant to melt into his embrace, unsure of what we are right now, the questions in my mind far too important to be ignored, even when his lips are so close to mine, soft and pink, almost gravitating me toward them against my will.

his eyebrows furrow at my rejection, arms slowly moving away from my waist, instead resting a gentle hand against my hip as he speaks. “what’s wrong? did i do something?”

my heart breaks, tugging at the strings at his confusion. honestly, he hadn’t done anything wrong - not right now anyway. i don’t know what we are, and that thought scares me, more than he realises at first glance. i have always been this way, liking answers to be clear, on paper, with zero doubt of them being interpreted differently. so this situation is a nightmare come true, tom’s intentions, though seemingly clear last night, still a hazy blur amidst the thoughts piling in my mind. and i hate leaving him in the dark, though he is unconsciously doing the same to me right now. but i know that it isn’t fair to shut him out as i always do, deciding to speaking my feelings, whether things end well or not.

“i just- i don’t know what we are. did you want me for a quick fuck last night, or-”

“you really think i want you for a quick fuck?” he asks, voice low and soft, lacking any anger within it as i had expected. instead, he remains calm, hands tentatively reaching upward to cup my cheeks, my entire face resting within his heavy palms. his thumb slowly strokes the skin next to my lips, face inches away from my own as the soft breaths escaping his mouth fan against my cheeks.

my silence speaks volumes - letting him know how confusing this whole thing is to me, though it seems the lack of clarity is clearly one sided: tom’s brows furrowed, eyes slightly narrowed as his mouth parts, little sound escaping from it. but my silence, whilst surprising to him, is equally precious, because it buys him time to continue. his hold on me strong, yet his words slow and soft as they pour from his lips turn out to be the most beautiful - and somehow reassuring, contrast imaginable, especially when in this moment, i desperately clutch onto any comfort that he shows. and, luckily for me, he intends to remind me that my worries are mere delusions - his confession music to my ears.

“schatz…c’mon, you know you’re more than that to me.” he seems at a loss for words, tongue swiping nervously across his bottom lip between words, knocking the small metal ring that adorns it to the side, playing with it in an irregular motion, his eyes just as skittish.

silence indulges the room as he awaits my response, his eyes scanning my expression almost desperately, the same way i had looked at him moments ago, the roles reversing far quicker than i had expected. he is waiting on me, seeking my reassurance, his statement coming out as more of a question, though it seems directed to the both of us. he is asking himself the same thing - soon realising that he is equally as keen to receive consolation as i am.

“i don’t know it’s just- weird, i guess? i’m not over it. i tried to act like i was, but look where i ended up, at some shitty club with a random guy at my hip.” each words that falls from my lips becomes harder to say, soon realising that this is the first time i have spoken about how i truly feel after we parted. feelings change, people move on and time continues to run its course, but none of that had happened, my soul just as empty as it had been the second he left. my expression mirrors my emotions, tears soon building around the brim of my eyes, threatening to spill from them with another word. but i take that chance, knowing that i am in far too deep to keep anything left unsaid - especially when he is here, and i have him listening, really taking in my words, instead of brushing them off as he did before. “and i can’t go through having my heart broken again. once was enough, don’t break my heart again, please.”

“baby…” he trails off, his arms wrapping tightly around my trembling frame, body following as it presses against mine, soothing me in the way i wanted, no, needed. truthfully, my confession couldn’t be taken as a complete surprise. i know it, and tom knows it too, his brief silence proving that he wants to try, the small circles trailed along my back temporarily taking away the pain, giving him the time to think about what he is saying, to properly consider his choice of words, rather than spewing out anything that will console me.

a minute passes, heavy breaths escaping from my lips, masked within the small sobs soon mixing into the soft air until they eventually turn into silence, my eyes soon drying, thin red lines stretched across the sea of white surrounding my irises, in place of the saltiness of my tears. it is at that moment when his face appears from my shoulder where it had once been resting, lips nearing my cheeks as they slowly, oh so slowly, begin kissing away the remnants of dried tears, gently making any evidence of my sorrow disappear, replacing them with the tender consolation of his company, though now it is beyond that - his kisses show far more than the reminder that he is here with me, they show that his love is there too, far stronger than his presence alone.

“i love you. i love you so much. never doubt that for a second. when you think you’ve lost everything, you’ll never lose my love for you. i could live a thousand lifetimes, and it would still be you.” it is clear that he means it this time, but if his words themselves hadn’t made that obvious, then the kiss that he places onto my lips afterward reaffirms their truth, compelling me to kiss back as soon as i am able to process the feeling of his lips, soft and pillowy, on my own.

this is love. not two people pretending to show affection, blinded by lust over true passion. because before tom, i realise that i had no knowledge of the word. the way his lips move slowly against mine, no sexual intent behind the kiss, drives me further and further into the abyss that is his love, devoted to him whether it is good for me or not. i am far too blind to be able to distinguish between right or wrong, my heart and soul in total agreement that he is the one, regardless of the fact that moments ago, i was unsure. all it takes is his reassurance, his lips on my own, to understand that nobody else is capable of making me feel this way.

seconds feel like hours, the entire concept of time slipping away as i latch onto him, lips becoming pink and swollen as they collide messily, unable to part despite the feeling of breathless that soon takes over. it didn’t matter, none of it did, because tom is my oxygen, and as long as i am able to feel his soft lips on my own, nothing else seems important. moments like these are unable to be recreated, heat rising between us, yet the distance only decreases, until my body is on top of his, tangled within the sheets, kisses soft despite the strong hold he maintains on my hips.

even when our lips separate, our foreheads remain rested against each other’s, content smiles spread across our faces, nothing needing to be said as our expressions sum everything up. his hand moves upward, running softly through my hair, removing loose strands that had found their way onto my face, tucking them slowly behind my ear. for the first time, i am not worried. i don’t waste a second considering ‘what if…’ or ‘what about…’, because it doesn’t matter to me, and once a peaceful silence envelops the both of us, it quickly becomes real, all of it - from the soft kisses, to the sincere confessions: love, there are countless ways to display it, but nobody seemed to get it right, until tom.

his fingers jab playfully into my sides, disturbing the peaceful moment, though it doesn’t alter my mood, a wider smile spreading across my face as i squirm above him, hitting his chest whilst small giggles leave my lips. in one swift motion, he manages to flip us over, somehow dragging the covers over the both of us in the process, his body now on top of my own. the same smile that fails to falter on my own face now spreads across his, though it doesn’t last as long, his mouth opening to speak whilst his hands run up and down my waist rhythmically.

“how does breakfast sound? whatever you like.” he lifts up, moving off of me and to the side, bringing my body closer to him, his arms snaking around my waist comfortingly, lips placing a quick kiss onto my forehead. “let me take you out today. shopping maybe? or what about that pizza place you like?”

“hm, i’ll take you up on breakfast. but can we stay here today? i’m tired, and i forgot how comfy your bed is.” i chuckle quietly, allowing the soft sheets to envelop me further, consequently snuggling closer into tom’s embrace, his body accepting my proximity as he wraps his arms tighter around me.

he laughs lowly at my words, nodding slowly against me, his head tilting to the side as his lips plant a firm kiss into my hair. “sure, anything you want schatz.” i smile contently at his response, sighing softly in relief, closing my eyes at the feeling of peace that soon takes over, careful not to take any of it for granted, relishing every second that i remain within his arms.

and he sticks to his promise. our bodies remain tangled together, wrapped up within the sheets until the familiar blend of oranges and pinks leak through a small gap in the curtains, casting its light throughout the room, somehow highlighting tom’s features in the most beautiful way possible, from the soft pools of brown that are his eyes, to his skin, so smooth it resembles silk itself, the golden rays melting onto his lips, still a light shade of red, decorated with the small metal ring that i have seen so many times. it is perfect: sharing ‘quick’ kisses - though they never ended that way, tom insisting on deepening them until we had to pull away, warm and breathless, meaningless conversations, soft laughter sounding throughout the room, filling the thick air with a reminder of our love for each other. the day ends the same way that it had began, my legs tangled within tom’s, arm draped lazily across his chest, his fingers running soothingly up and down my waist, lips planting quick kisses wherever they are able to gain access to. and, like clockwork, those lips utter the same words they had just hours ago, with the same truthfulness behind them as the first time they had been spoken, only this time, i am certain that he means it.

“i love you, schatz.”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #kaulitz twins #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #kaulitz #tom kaulitz angst #bill kaulitz

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Faint of Heart | One Shot

Pairing: Astarion x The Dark Urge

Chapter Count: One Shot | Read on AO3

Word Count: 7,816

Summary: Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 during Act 2. Explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge as Astarion struggles with a confession. Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Confession of Feelings, Mentions of Violence, Soft Astarion, Spoilers for the Dark Urge and BG3 in general, Dark Urge as Original Female Character Rating: Mature

Author's Note: Back on my bullshit with these two. This is a one-shot based on the same Durge MC, Eli, as my other fics. I took some liberties with Astarion's confession scene, taking into account the background of the Dark Urge. It's all somewhat self-indulgent, and I wanted an excuse to write sassy Jaheira and practice writing from Astarion's POV. It's angsty, it's fluffy, it's soft and Karlach is the greatest wingman of them all! Thank you for reading my nonsense.

She stood, looking to everyone else in the Inn like a conquering hero ready to head out once more and face the darkness. She smiled with Rolan, laughed with Cal, chatted with Lia, and no one was the wiser.

Except him.

In their time together, Astarion had picked up on some of Eli’s tells. Behaviors that slipped past her mask of composure and enthusiasm, exposing the truth beneath her carefully constructed veneer.

She was exhausted. He could see it in the slight sag of her shoulders, in the way she kept having to blink and refocus on whoever she was conversing with, in her tired yet reassuring smile…the one she always had at the ready for anyone who came to her with yet another ordeal to hang around her shoulders.

A sudden and fierce burn of irrational anger flared in his chest as he continued to watch people flit around her. It brought to his mind an image of bees sucking the nectar dry from a gorgeous wildflower. They would use her until there was nothing left because that was their nature. They were desperate, all of them. The tieflings, Jaheira, Barcus, Counsellor Florrick…they were all starving for a savior, and Eli was that succor. They’d use her up until nothing was left. They’d watch her kill herself in the name of their ambitions, then hail her as a hero rather than the kind fool she was, always taking on other people’s burdens in some mad, desperate attempt to redeem whatever darkness lay coiled in her past.

Nevermind the fact that Eli’s kindness was exactly what he’d set out to manipulate from the start.

He was just as bad as the rest of them, looking to use Eli for her protection and capabilities. He was just as guilty. He’d seen her compassion as weakness and immediately dug his claws in, hooking into her like a parasite. Seducing her into his bed, stoking affection and twisting feelings – both hers and his – until he couldn’t tell truth from fiction.

And that was the problem.

Somewhere along the way, more and more truth began to slip into the words he used to charm her. He wasn’t sure when it started, but sometime between their passionate nights and hard fought days, genuine feelings began to stir every time he thought of her.

And, gods, he’d hated it.

On that first day after the nautiloid, when he’d discovered he could walk in sunlight and was out of reach of Cazador, he’d swore to never allow anyone control over him again. He’d rather drive a stake through his own heart than be a puppet tethered to someone else’s strings. And yet…here he was, allowing the very first person he’d met after making that oath to have sway over him. And he was utterly terrified he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

And so he sat at a far table in the bustling lounge of Last Light Inn, watching Eli and growing more and more perturbed as people buzzed around her.

Couldn’t they see how tired she was? She’d done enough for them today, breaking Wulbren and his compatriots out of Moonrise alongside the tieflings…well, those tieflings who’d survived the assault in the Shadowlands. Eli had been battered, bloodied and in desperate need of a healer, and yet the moment they’d come upon the prison, nothing else had mattered except freeing those being held captive.

She hadn’t said as much, but Astarion knew her well enough by now to recognize the shadow of devastation that drifted across her expression when Dammon described the attack that had scattered the refugees while on the road. She’d grown close to many of them, back at the Grove, often allowing conversations to drag on far past their welcome as some poor sod carried on about their insignificant struggles. It had frustrated Astarion to no end. They didn’t need to hear all about Bex’s absurd dream of owning a little orange cat with a bell on its neck! That knowledge did nothing to aid the process of driving steel through goblin guts.

It had all come to a head when she’d given Mol gold in exchange for absolutely nothing, spouting off some bullshit about wanting to back the next great thieves guild of Baldur’s Gate. Astarion had pulled Eli aside then, hissing about futile charity and asking her if she intended to bankroll every guttersnipe with a sob story.

She hadn’t missed a beat with her retort.

“Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite of all the guttersnipes I’ve come across. Thank the gods you only ask for blood and not gold. Otherwise, we’d be deadass broke.”

She’d leveled a stare at him that spoke volumes. He’d rolled his eyes and tried to hide the smirk threatening at the corners of his lips. Of course he was her favorite.

Still, it was mind-numbingly infuriating, how far Eli would go to help someone she cared for. What was worse was that Astarion knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she’d do the same for him. That she’d throw herself thoughtlessly into pain, torment and suffering for his sake. At one point, he could not have cared less whether she destroyed herself for his gain.

But those days were gone, and he was now forced to reckon with the fact that he’d grown attached…that he cared. That he’d slit the throat of anyone in this room who tried to take advantage of her. That he’d once been the person trying to take advantage...

The thought now stirred something uneasy and almost nauseous within his stomach. He hated thinking about how he’d treated her, and yet it seemed to be something he was incapable of forgetting. Whatever was between them now, it was founded on something rotten. It had grown out of a lie, and regardless of how he felt now, a part of him knew that in order for anything to continue he would need to confess the vile intentions that had started all of this.

He owed her that, and she deserved it. She’d likely hate him, and all of this would come crashing to a disastrous end…but she deserved the truth, Astarion’s feelings be damned. She deserved to be with someone who would treat her with the same honesty and respect that she showed to everyone else. She deserved to be with someone who would protect her, not lie and manipulate her. She had so many burdens of her own, and yet she kept piling the burdens of others atop them. She deserved someone who would help steady her, not someone who would only get in her way and cause her to stumble.

She was going to hate him. He knew it as surely as he knew the sun would not cut through the gloom over the Shadowlands tomorrow morning. But he couldn’t keep living this farce. He couldn’t keep bedding her and enduring all those feelings of guilt and self-hatred as they mixed with the longing and ecstasy of bringing her to the brink and watching her come undone. It was too overwhelming. He wanted to be with her honestly and openly and not have their time together tainted by his wretched memories.

He wanted something real with her, built on the foundation of what he felt now rather than the putrid intentions that had started all of this.

It wouldn’t happen, he knew. Astarion wouldn’t want himself, either, all things considered. And that was okay. She deserved the opportunity to hate him for how he’d treated her. Gods knew he hated himself for it, it was only fair she hate him, too.

The fact that she didn’t already was astounding. He was a wretched thing, ugly in all ways except for appearance and so useless that he had to manipulate others into fighting his battles. He had ruined so many lives over the past two centuries. He’d been used up until there was nothing left of him to offer. And yet she was always near, never shying away and never overbearing…just always there, always at his back. She didn’t flinch away from him, didn’t pity him, and she made him feel things he’d forgotten how to feel.

The first night they’d spent together had been unexpectedly enthralling and pleasurable, something he had not experienced in he didn’t know how long. And he’d wanted more, despite his confusion and the messiness of his feelings, he wanted more of that connection. And so they’d spent more nights finding comfort and pleasure in each other. Those nights were little moments of solace in a world gone mad.

Those nights had been about more than sex; they were nights where she told him beautiful words that weren’t made for people like him.

“Seldom do I find so little fault with someone. I hope it lasts.” A cool voice caught Astarion by surprise as he sat lost in his darkening thoughts.

His head snapped around, hand instinctively twitching towards a hidden blade at his hip.

Jaheira stood beside him, arms crossed and face unreadable and she pinned him in her stare. Her eyes flitted momentarily to the hand at his waist, and Astarion brought it back to rest on the table he sat at, dagger still fastened to his belt.

The ghost of a self-satisfied smirk flashed across her face as Jaheira glanced away from him and back towards the subject of her comment. He followed her gaze towards Eli and hummed thoughtfully, settling into a more relaxed posture that he hoped did not betray the swirling mess that currently haunted his mind.

“You should tell her as much,” he mused, watching Eli as she pushed a strand of her silver-white hair behind an ear.

The sight caused his mind to pull a memory forth, unbidden. It was tactile and soft, the feel of his fingers tangling in that hair…of his lips caressing the shell of her ear as he whispered ravishing praise for only her to hear.

He took a grounding breath and dashed those thoughts from his mind.

“She thrives on pretty words and compliments,” he quipped.

Astarion wouldn’t elaborate that the reason for it was because Eli had a desperate desire to escape whatever monster dogged her broken memories. She thought of herself as something tainted and corrupt. Something unworthy. He’d got a glimpse of that darkness on the night she’d woken him, panicked and breathlessly ranting about how she feared she would harm him.

At first, he’d thought she was still in the throes of one of her many night terrors, perhaps sleepwalking. The truth had been far more grim, and Astarion was still haunted by images from that night. Images of Eli struggling against the bindings Astarion had put her in, for the protection of them both. Eyes feral as her nails dug into the flesh of her palms, mouth snarling as she spat all manner of vile insults at him. She had lost herself to whatever thing she was keeping at bay inside herself, and Astarion had come to realize that the fear which hounded Eli on both sleepless nights and in nightmares was well founded.

That fear had spread to him, too. Fear of losing her, of watching her be overtaken by this madness. He understood the depravity he saw in her eyes, the mania that was a loss of self when hunger took hold and choked all other sensibility from your mind. He hadn’t felt empathy for another soul in nearly two hundred years, and suddenly there it was, raw and wounding and utterly terrifying. His thoughts screamed back to that year of starvation and darkness, locked in a tomb as he slowly went mad with hunger. Those recollections were an undertow, threatening to pull him down and drown him.

But she’d needed him, and so he’d wrenched himself free of his clawing subconscious and watched over her until morning when she returned to herself. A lot of things changed that night. They’d been changing already, but the lies he’d been telling himself about how he felt simply could not survive the blistering reality of the situation at hand.

There was still some life left in his cold dead heart, and he had no idea how to reconcile with that knowledge.

The sound of Jaheira clearing her throat brought him out of his brooding and he turned his head to find the druid eyeing him curiously, a hand outstretched towards him. A key was held between her fingers and Astarion glanced at it before meeting her gaze, perplexed. Jaheira sighed and took a seat opposite to Astarion at the table, setting the key down on the worn wooden surface of the hightop and pushing it over to him.

“Seems Karlach was speaking truth when she said the two of you were a pair of emotionally-stunted lovesick fools,” Jaheira said, leaning back in her chair and pointing from Eli to Astarion. “You completely tuned me out, staring at her like a wolfhound salivating over a piece of raw steak.”

Astarion tensed at the remark, frowning before he slipped back into his casual and roguish demeanor.

“Yes, yes, make your jokes about the monstrous vampire. How dare he pursue the charming and morally upstanding hero.” Astarion snorted, eyeing Eli ruefully. “I’ve heard it before. Wyll likes to especially harp on the subject.”

He made a mental note to tell Karlach not to be such a gossip.

Jaheira huffed, a noise that could possibly be construed as a laugh, except Astarion wasn’t sure he could picture the stern woman laughing.

“Please,” she said, almost dismissively. “I am not familiar enough with your little band of hedonists to form an opinion on your social dramas. And even if I were, I doubt I’d care.”

The druid turned her head to gaze back towards the bar.

Bex and Danis had joined the group situated around Eli, and Astarion noted that another bottle of wine had recently been opened. Eli was turning down offers to refill her glass and Astarion felt a sudden urge to grab her and whisk her away to the quiet sanctuary of his tent back at camp. And not even to do anything sexual, though if that’s where the night took them, he’d happily oblige.

He just wanted to give her a space of reprieve, somewhere she could rest and escape all this chaos.

“What I do care about,” Jaheira continued, drawing Astarion’s attention back to her. “Is that one’s wellbeing.” She tilted her chin towards Eli. “She is our way into the cult. Our way to get close to Ketheric. She is our key to putting an end to this blight of the Absolute.”

Astarion didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself to open his mouth in that moment. Jaheira was loading more burdens onto Eli’s shoulders, and his desire to hide her away – to protect her – was only growing.

He knew the druid spoke truth. Eli had a connection to all of this that none of them, including her, understood. What they did know was that Ketheric Thorm recognized her when they showed up at Moonrise. He’d addressed her as a comrade, and it deeply unsettled her. What secrets were lying locked away behind Eli’s fractured psyche? A part of him honestly didn’t care…he just wanted her safe…

“So,” Jaheira said after the silence between them lingered for a moment. She tapped the key still lying on the tabletop in front of Astarion. “That is a key to a room upstairs. As well-meaning as the rabble down here is, what Eli needs is rest. The days and weeks ahead will not be easy, and opportunities for respite will be few. Make her take this one.”

Astarion opened his mouth, intending to ask why the hell Jaheira didn’t just go over there and say these things to Eli. But she was well ahead of him and held her hand up in a motion to silence him.

“I have no sway over her. I will only come off as overbearing and fussy, even if I do speak truth.” Her tone took on a hint of amusement, that of an elder and learned lioness affectionately chiding a cub. “I have been informed by Karlach that the two of you are together, yes?”

Astarion stiffened, his mind swirling around all the complications involved with his and Eli’s relationship. Guilt rose up in his throat and he swallowed it down uneasily as Jaheira eyed him curiously. She bullied past the question, not waiting for his affirmation.

“Take Eli upstairs and away from all of this,” Jaheira said, rising from her chair in a motion to leave, her piece said.

She then paused, considering something, before turning back to Astarion.

“It is not my place to say this, but I will, anyway. You seem conflicted about something concerning her. And I don’t want details,” she added hastily, noting Astarion’s discomfort at being called out. “However, I know all too painfully the grief of leaving things unsaid. This life you currently lead, it is one lived day-to-day, and those days will run out. Sometimes, much sooner than expected. Don’t wait until you have nothing left but regret.”

Once again not waiting for a response, Jaheira turned and made her way towards a group of Harpers who were chatting near the Inn’s central firepit. Astarion was left alone with the echo of her words and the key she had provided.

Something squirmed uncomfortably in Astarion’s chest as he rolled what she said over and over in his mind.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

She was right, of course. He needed to talk to Eli about them. About whatever this was. About how he’d manipulated her.

Used her.

Astarion groaned softly and ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly - a nervous habit.

Enough! Enough thinking, you wretched pathetic cowardly moron!

Rising from his chair, Astarion grabbed the key and made his way towards the bar, stepping up behind Eli who was currently providing Rolan with a play-by-play of their Moonrise prison break. Gently, he wrapped an arm around her waist and brought his other hand up to rest on her shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the side of her neck as he did so.

Astarion felt Eli’s pulse quicken beneath his lips and smiled as she leaned back into him. He felt a smug sense of satisfaction as he caught Rolan frowning at him, indignant as Eli’s attention shifted away from him and to the vampire.

“Hello, my dear,” he whispered softly into her ear, ignoring the tiefling wizard who looked as if he wanted to set Astarion on fire. “I’m sorry to interrupt you and your adoring fans, but I have some adoring of my own that I need you for.”

It was so easy for Astarion to slip back into his charmingly seductive mannerisms, so much so that he felt a pang of guilt twist in his stomach.

Truth be told, Astarion wasn’t exactly sure how to approach the type of conversation he wanted to have. He’d never done this before, asking to talk about a relationship, so he was winging it and using what tactics he knew to get her away from the crowd and to a more private location.

Eli turned her head to meet his gaze and grinned, placing a hand on the one Astarion had at her waist and intertwining her fingers with his.

“Really, now?” she said playfully. “And what does this adoring entail? Because if a hot bath and a massage are not included, I’m not going.”

Eli’s eyes shined with mischief as her expression settled into a teasing smirk. She kissed him lightly near the underside of his jaw – a reassuring gesture. Eli would go with him, regardless, but she always did enjoy a bit of banter.

“Arrangements can be made,” Astarion quipped as he turned her in his arms and began leading her towards the staircase to the upper floor.

Apprehension was beginning to roil in his gut, but he forced the alluring façade to stay in place.

Eli allowed him to direct her towards the stairs, tossing a wave to Rolan and calling over her shoulder.

“Sorry, Rolan! We’ll chat more later, as I’m currently being commandeered.”

Astarion couldn’t help the smug expression that crossed his face when he heard the tiefling’s miffed response.

“Mmhm, you seem like a very unwilling captive,” Rolan grunted.

Eli laughed.

“What can I say? I’ve got a weakness for pretty words, great sex and a man I don’t have to share snacks with,” she said.

Astarion tried to hold back the surprised bark of a laugh that bubbled up from his throat and failed miserably. He felt eyes on them, some scandalized and others amused - and heard Rolan’s agitated groan - as he led Eli up the stairs.

They reached the second-floor landing and he pressed a hand to the small of Eli’s back, guiding her towards the room.

“Where are we going, anyway?” she asked, trying to stifle a yawn as she spoke.

Safe from the greedy, peering eyes of the mob below, the shift in Eli’s demeanor was almost instinctual. She sagged a bit, weary and leaning into his touch. Hey eyelids fluttered closed for a moment and she drew in a deep, steadying breath.

She truly was exhausted and Astarion began to second guess himself. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to broach such a sensitive topic. She needed rest, not more burdens. Was he being selfish? Trying to offload his guilt just so he could feel better?

But the way she pressed into him, slightly leaning on him in her fatigue and suddenly so disarmed and at ease the moment they were away from the crowd…it caused a gnawing self-hatred to burn deep in his bones.

She trusted him. She felt safe with him. She shouldn’t…he didn’t deserve her affection.

“Jaheira, like the meddlesome elder she is, secured us a room away from all the nagging unwashed masses so you can finally get some peace and quiet,” Astarion said, stopping in front of a door which had the same designation as the key he had been given.

“Astarion, we are the unwashed masses,” Eli chuckled, glancing down at the battered scale mail she wore which was currently spattered with grime, blood and who knows what other less-than-savory substances.

Astarion expression pinched into one of mild disgust as he considered his own leathers which were equally smeared and foul.

“Yes, well, perhaps whatever contemptuous god is overseeing our day-to-day lives has seen fit to grace us with a private washroom? You know, as a way to apologize for all the horror and trauma that surrounds us every second of every day,” he bemoaned in that haughty, vain manner that only Astarion could pull off.

Unlocking the door, Astarion held it open and motioned with a gentlemanly flourish for Eli to enter. She did so, and the pale elf had to suppress a snort of laughter when she called out to him not five seconds later.

“Holy shit! I’ve never had such an emotional reaction to seeing a bar soap before!”

“I would hope we have not become such heathens that soap merits this much enthusiasm.”

“It smells like eucalyptus, Astarion! Eucalyptus!”

-------------------------------------------

There was, indeed, a private washroom.

Eli and Astarion took turns getting cleaned up. Soaking in a tub of warm, soapy water was a scarce luxury. Most days, their motley group was resigned to bathing in cold river water with minnows nipping at their toes as they tried to cleanse themselves with whatever natural herbs and ointments Halsin was able to scrounge up into a paste.

In truth, Astarion couldn’t recall the last time he’d been afforded the opportunity to simply enjoy a bath. Cazador certainly didn’t allow his spawn such niceties, and while he’d visited his fair share of taverns and hotels with rentable rooms while prowling for victims to bring back to his master, he was never able to just…be. To relish in the comfort of it all.

The warm water was soothing, banishing the endless chill of death sunk deep in his bones that was his constant state of being since the night he turned. Eli had washed before him and was now situated on the large plush bed across the room from the tub. A privacy screen blocked their view of one another, but they’d been chatting idly throughout the evening about nothing in particular.

Now, in a lull of silence between them, Astarion’s mind was wandering as he rested with his arms and head propped against the sides of the tub, eyes closed in a moment of calm that was all too fleeting these days. He lazily imagined having Eli in the water with him, her warm body pressed up against his which, for once, wouldn’t be cold and pallid to her touch…wouldn’t be greedily stealing the heat of her skin to warm his corpse.

But, he’d still be stealing her trust to warm his dead heart…

He sighed, feeling the ease of the moment slip away like the tendrils of steam coming off his bath water. He needed to own up to his manipulative intentions. Now. He couldn’t stomach the thought of holding Eli in his arms that night while she slept, peaceful and trusting. Holding onto him like he were something to be cared for, to be cherished. Unsuspecting of the truth…that he was deceitful and lowly.

That they never would have been here, in this room, had he not set out to use her for his selfish gain.

If he didn’t approach the subject now, he may not get another chance for some time. Their days were so overwrought with hardships and schemes that finding a moment of quiet was nearly as difficult as figuring out how to subdue the shadow curse.

Resigned to what he needed to do, and with an icy weight of dread sinking into his gut, Astarion rose from the tub and towled dry. He dressed in his typical casual outfit, a black ruffled shirt and dark trousers, and rounded the privacy screen to see Eli sitting on the bed, legs crisscrossed as she drew in a small leatherbound journal. She’d picked it up in the Emerald Grove, exchanging a dagger with Mattis for it that she’d picked up off some decrepit corpse or another.

Eli had taken to writing rather extensive notes in it about anything and everything; from information about the cult to descriptions of acquaintances and even hand drawn maps of the various areas they trekked through. She’d confided in Astarion that she feared what memories she’d made since the nataloid could one day be lost to her, just as her past was lost. And so she wanted to ensure, should that happen, she had a record she could refer to in order to hopefully reclaim some of what was gone.

Eli had even showed him several pages full of details about him. She’d written down all manner of notes, from little preferences he had – such as the style of embroidery needle he liked to use – to reminders such as: “You’ll figure out he’s a vampire pretty damn quick, Astarion is absurdly terrible at keeping secrets. Don’t be weird about it, he’s cool. He can get a bit whiny and obnoxious when he’s hungry, so make sure to keep him fed, especially if there isn’t much wildlife around. The wrist is for everyday use and the neck is for sexy times. Don’t believe him when he tells you that the inner thigh provides the best tasting blood. This is a kink and he is a liar! RATION ACCESS!”

That had made him smirk.

She’d also shown him two pages of detailed notes describing his appearance, from hair to foot. Eli wasn’t much for artistic talent, but she had a flair for the written word despite the copious amounts of vulgarity that shot from her mouth like dragon fire. The attention with which she’d described him and the complimentary nature of it all had caused his breath to catch at the back of his throat. He’d read the words over and over, actually able to picture his face in his mind’s eye as described. A strange sort of familiarity settled over him as he pictured the details on the page, and when he finally found his voice he’d stuttered a bewildered thank you, unused to the kindness she’d shown.

Now, as he sat on the edge of the bed, he felt a desperate fear burn to life inside himself. What if he never got to experience something like that again? What if their time together over the past weeks was all he ever got? Just a few brief flashes of respite among centuries of misery…

“Feeling better?” Eli asked, jolting Astarion out of his thoughts.

He blinked at her for a moment before clearing his throat and running a hand habitually through his hair.

“Yes…yes, I always feel better when I’m not covered in other people’s bodily fluids,” he said with a halfhearted chuckle that caused Eli to frown curiously and set down her journal.

She could sense something was off. And so with one last internal curse to himself, Astarion launched into one of the most anxiety-inducing things he’d ever done.

“I’ve…been meaning to talk to you. About us,” he said, tone soft and hesitant.

Eli shifted her weight on the bed, turning her body to face him. Her brows had furrowed only slightly, unsure whether she should be concerned about Astarion’s sudden shift in demeanor, yet fully open to listening attentively. Trusting. It made his gut twist.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course!” Astarion responded reflexively, instinctively jumping to make light of any tension. He bit back anymore reassurances before he could spit them out and cleared his throat, voice taking on a more serious tone.

“Except…not really,” he backpedaled.

Eli’s expression grew more worried and Astarion could see her already beginning to play through scenarios in her mind, trying to sort through what she may have done. What wrongs her broken mind may have committed. He sped forward, wanting to absolve her of any notion that she was at cause for anything.

“Look, I had a plan,” he began, turning towards her on the bed. “A nice simple plan. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he chuckled nervously, swallowing down the bile threatening to rise in his throat.

“It was easy…instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it…” His eyes dropped, unable to hold Eli’s stare as her own eyes searched his face, taken aback and confused by the sudden confession.

“And all I had to do was not fall for you,” he continued, glancing back up to her. Desperate for her to hear this next part. “Which is where my nice, simple plan…fell apart.”

Astarion paused, gazing at Eli with a mixture of trepidation and guilt as she watched him silently, stunned and not without a little hurt bleeding into her eyes as his words caught up with her brain.

“You’re…” he started, unsure how to put a voice to the storm wheeling inside of him. He wasn’t as eloquent as Eli, and never had he felt so incapable and inadequate at translating what he felt into words than he did right now. So he said what had been tearing him up from the inside out for days, and braced for the inevitable fallout.

“You’re incredible.” He couldn’t help the touch of a sad smile that came to his lips, or the nearly awed tone of his voice as he said the word like it could encase inside of it everything Eli had come to mean to him.

It wasn’t enough, he knew. No word would be enough. Nor would a thousand words. Because he didn’t understand how to express the way his heart seemed to flutter when she looked at him, despite it being cold and useless in his chest. He didn’t know how to explain the way her smile made him feel like someone worthwhile. Or how when he held her in his arms he thought that maybe…maybe some god somewhere had finally heard his desperate pleas.

“You deserve something real,” he admitted, with no small amount of shame, before adding, “I want us to be something real.”

Confessing to something he wanted, out loud and to someone else, was an experience he was woefully unfamiliar with. It was an experience he fully expected he’d come to regret, but he said it anyway and waited for the pain that was sure to follow.

Eli was quiet for a long moment, peering at Astarion with an expression he couldn’t quite read. He saw confusion and sadness, but there was something else, too. A flicker of something not unlike…understanding?

No, he was surely mistaken…

“So…” Eli said softly, working through her words before she spoke them out loud. Trying to parse through the influx of information coming at her.

“So, this hasn’t been real? Us? Everything we’ve been through. Our nights together…they didn’t mean anything to you…” she trailed off, almost as if she were talking to herself rather than asking it of him.

“Of course they did!” Astarion was quick to correct the assumption.

Gods, he didn’t want her to think that. Of course they had meant something to him, more than he’d thought they could. He’d chosen to be with her, even if it had initially been out of less than innocent desires, he’d chosen it. He hadn’t been forced to seek her out and lure her somewhere. She wasn’t a mark or some wretched experience he wanted to forget. He’d acted of his own free will, and even if the reasons hadn’t been as genuine as he’d made them out to be at the start, it was still the first decision he had made in nearly two centuries that wasn’t directed or forced.

That meant something to him. Those nights meant something to him. And, gods, so did she. That was part of the problem…

And so he explained as much, describing how he was used to twisting intimacy into something to be used rather than felt. How his past experiences with sex were bleeding over into the nights spent with her and that he didn’t have the faintest idea how to fix it. How he had trained himself to be numb, to wall himself off. And how, when Eli had finally, gently dismantled those walls he didn’t know what to do next…

“I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to…” Astarion concluded, feeling about as small and insignificant as he’d ever felt.

The silence that followed his confession made his skin crawl with ill ease. He stared at the bedding, terrified to look up and see the fury Eli surely felt. This was it; this was when she’d tell him to leave. And he would, quietly and without fuss. It was the last kindness he was capable of giving her.

“Astarion.” The calm softness of Eli’s voice nearly made the elf flinch. “Please look at me.”

Not a demand, but a request, spoken with care.

Confused, Astarion looked to her and instead of anger or hate or rage, he only found…her. Just Eli, looking back at him with thoughtful consideration. She should have been furious, but instead she simply took a steadying breath, scooting a bit closer on the bed so she could place a hand lightly on his knee.

He didn’t move, didn’t breathe as Eli looked at him and carefully began to speak.

“I care about you, Astarion.” She said it as if she were trying to convince him of the truth of her words, and he was stunned.

“Really?” he asked, breathless and unsure. But hopeful, too. Hopeful that maybe, just once, something in his miserable life might not end in disaster and pain.

“Yes, you beautiful fool!” she nearly laughed, squeezing at his knee.

Eli smiled at him and…gods above, it was the most dazzling and gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.

“Neither of us was looking for anything more than a night of comfort, and maybe some fun, when all of this started. We both had our own self-serving reasons,” she explained, before chuckling lightly. “Hells, I barely had more than a few weeks' worth of memories in my head at that point. Trying to rope anyone into a meaningful relationship was so low on my list of priorities I would have burst into flames on the spot had anyone mentioned the idea to me.”

Astarion couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face as Eli looked at him with an adoration that made him dizzy.

“But, things change. We changed. And, I’m glad that we did. I came to care about you in a way I don’t remember caring about anyone ever. And while that may not be saying much, considering…” Eli laughed and Astarion’s dead heart soared. “You’re special to me, right now. Regardless of how this started.”

This was certainly not how Astarion had expected this conversation to go, and he had never been so overjoyed to have his expectations usurped. He was entirely out of his depth, and so far outside his comfort zone that he was reeling. Words kept building up in the back of his throat and yet when he opened his mouth, he was struck dumb. He was overwhelmed, in the best way possible, but he hadn’t the slightest notion of what he was supposed to say or do next. And so he defaulted to what he knew.

“Well, I mean, of course I am, darling,” Astarion’s voice slipped into a silky tone. Anxiety was roiling inside of him and he tried to claw his way out, using the tools he knew best.

“The unyielding praise I am able to coax from your lips during our nights of passion has made it more than apparent,” he leaned in towards Eli, the tone of his words easing back into sultry familiarity.

Eli just shook her head with a breathy chuckle, meeting his gaze with a genuine affection in her eyes that made Astarion feel known in a way that was comforting.

“That’s not what I meant,” Eli chided with a tenderness that caught Astarion off-guard. “I mean you, Astarion. The person that you are. The person who cares about me enough to watch over me all night while I go mad. The person who is forgiving enough to not hate me the next morning. The person who makes me laugh after a long and painful day.”

Carefully, Eli raises a hand and gently presses it against Astarion’s cheek. He leans into the touch, expression softening and relaxing as his red eyes stay locked in to her own.

“The person who is being honest with me, right now. Who I appreciate more than I can say.”

Astarion was quite certain his brain had seized. He sat frozen, frantically searching her face for any hint of a lie and finding none, to his utter astonishment.

“That’s…” he started, then faltered. He knew he should say something, but his chest currently felt as if it was being wrenched open and no words would suffice to express his amazement.

“I don’t know what to say,” Astarion admitted after his stunned silence wore off. “Which is quite the accomplishment on your part, my dear.”

Eli smiled, warm and without expectations. It was beautiful.

“Thank you,” he breathed, closing the small gap between them and resting his forehead against her own. “For trusting me, and listening. For everything.”

His words were woefully inadequate, and he feared they always would be. But, Eli didn’t seem to mind and that brought him immeasurable relief.

“I’ll always listen,” Eli reassured him as she stroked the side of his face with her thumb. “Considering who you are, it’s kind of hard not to,” she teased.

His expression took on a somewhat sheepish hint as he took her hand from his cheek and held it reverently between both of his. He sat up a bit straighter as Eli pulled away, silently watching him run his fingers across her palm with a light touch.

“What do we do now?” he asked, hesitant and unsure.

Astarion looked to Eli for some sort of direction. He hadn’t thought this far ahead and honestly figured the conversation would have ended in tears or bloodshed or both by now. He didn’t know what a way forward with Eli looked like, but he knew he wanted her with him. Maybe he could ignore the confused and unsavory feelings that intruded upon their nights together? He wanted to enjoy her, to satisfy her without the shadows of past hurts creeping in. Perhaps he could figure out how…

“What do you want to do?” Eli responded, turning the question back onto him and taking him by surprise.

Astarion looked back to Eli, brows raised at the unexpected question. He considered her for a moment, thinking through how to answer. What did he want?

“I’m not sure…” he said honestly. “No one’s ever asked me that before. About anything, really.”

Eli waited, smiling reassuringly, though with a hint of sadness at Astarion’s words. It was freeing, somewhat, to be given the space to think about what he wanted and a chance to put a voice to it. But, it was also a little overwhelming, and truth be told he wasn’t quite sure how to figure it out.

“I know I don’t want to lose you,” he affirmed, squeezing her hand in his.

He did want something real with Eli. The problem was, he didn’t know what real looked like. This was unfamiliar territory for him, and he didn’t even know how in the hells he was supposed to get his bearings.

“I don’t want that, either. You know, we could be together without sex. For however long we need,” Eli suggested, a small smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. “I don’t think I have the best associations with it, either, considering the…things that sometimes pop into my head. Maybe we both could use time to work through those things.”

Astarion considered the idea, a cool rush of relief overcoming him as it truly began to sink in that Eli wasn’t only interested in him for his body and the way it roused it her own. They were good together, really fucking good. But it was becoming more and more difficult to reconcile what he had done in his past, under the subjugation of Cazador, with what he did with Eli now. He didn’t want to treat her like a mark or just another one of his conquests. She deserved better than that from him – to be cherished and worshiped, even ravished, fully and completely and without the haunting presence of ghosts that lurked in the corners of his mind.

“Why that almost sounds like a challenge,” Astarion said, trying to slip back into his sultry mannerisms yet failing to hide the appreciation he felt.

His tone then shifted into something quieter and more tentative as Astarion asked, “Can we…still share a bed? I think I’d miss sleeping in your arms.”

He cleared his throat, eyes darting to the side. The vulnerability behind his question was uncomfortable for him, but he thought maybe he could manage if it kept them from spending their nights apart. He’d grown fond of drifting off to sleep with her near, lulled by the low beat of her heart and the soft sighs of her breathing. It was a comfort he had never imagined himself longing for, and yet with Eli he’d quickly come to miss her warmth on the nights they slept in their own tents. Her absence at his side becoming a chill he’d rather not endure.

“I’d like that,” Eli agreed, giving his own hand a soft and appreciative squeeze.

“Well,” Astarion sighed, tension easing out of him as he leaned forward suddenly and wrapped Eli in an embrace that quickly had them tumbling back onto the bed. “No time like the present!”

Eli laughed and Astarion pulled her close, reveling in the easy solace of having everything between them out in the open rather than eating away at his insides. He rolled onto his back, tugging her up onto him so that her head was resting on his chest, just below his chin. His fingers idly stroked through her hair, eyelids drooping as the stress of the day finally caught up to him.

“This is nice,” he mumbled a bit more sleepily than intended.

A contented hum was the only response he heard from Eli before sleep took him completely.

___________________________________

In the morning Karlach gave them a knowing smirk as they descended the stairs and Eli began rummaging through the Inn’s cabinets for something that could pass as breakfast.

“You two look happy,” she remarked as Astarion took a seat across from her at one of the low tables near the central firepit. “Seems a night on your own did the both of you some good.”

The tiefling eyed Astarion pointedly as she raised a mug of coffee and sipped, eyes twinkling with more than a bit of self-satisfied mischief.

Astarion clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair, feigning disinterest as he began to study his nails.

“You know, Karlach,” he began, flicking a speck of dirt from the tip of a finger. “For someone without a heart, you sure do seem to get invested in the romantic affairs of others.”

Karlach nearly spit coffee across the table as a boisterous laugh leapt up from her chest. She managed to contain herself, half choking and half coughing into her mug before she set it aside.

“That’s rich, fangs, coming from the likes of you,” Karlach giggled with good nature. “Honestly, I was just getting tired of the constant pining and lovesick angst between the both of you. For a pair of bloodthirsty murderhobos, you two are adorably dense when it comes to interactions that don’t involve stabbing something.”

“And for a professional killing machine from the hells, you are a hopeless gossip,” Astarion replied, shooting Karlach a sidelong glare before he glanced across the room to where Jaheira was consulting with a pair of Harpers as they studied a map.

He cleared his throat and pointedly did not look at the tiefling, speaking low for only the two of them to hear.

“Anyway…thank you. For meddling,” he said somewhat stiffly, though there was a timid genuineness to his words that made Karlach beam.

“Always happy to meddle, fangs.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur’s gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #soft astarion #sweet astarion #astarion x durge #astarion x the dark urge #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 headcanons #durgestarion

[babydollmarauders]

BABE — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

pt 2

summary: in which y/n’s biggest fear comes true, and she tries to work past it but inevitably can’t.

notes: this is all angst. if you’re wanting a redeeming and loving Jack then you will not find him in this, but i do have other fics like that.

warnings: cheating, arguments

useless notes: another Taylor Swift inspired fic. are we surprised? probably not. should i be working on the next part of the Midnights Fic List? maybe. but instead i just spent three hours writing whatever this is

i stare at my phone screen, no longer able to make out the photo but that doesn’t matter because it’s seared into my brain now. i close my eyes, letting tears roll down my cheeks, but all i can see is that photo. Jack, his hands on another girls waist and her lips on his neck.

i feared this day would come, i just hoped it never would. and i can’t help but put some blame on myself. was i not good enough? should i have come with him on the roadie? i know he’s said before that i shouldn’t feel pressured to go, but i know so many other WAGS do. maybe if i had taken the time off from work to come then this wouldn’t have happened. but i didn’t do that. and now here i sit, at home in our apartment, while he’s in Texas, probably peacefully sleeping by now, next to another girl.

when i had first opened up to Jack about my insecurities and my fears, about my past with men who previously cheated on me and strung me along because i was so forgiving, he had promised me this would never happen. told me i was the only one he ever wanted and that if he ever felt like he wanted to be with someone else, he would have the decency to break up with me first and not string me along. but here we are.

this photo wasn’t what i was expecting to see when i decided to open twitter. i was expecting lots of celebratory tweets after the Devils win against the Stars, but then this picture was the first thing that popped up on my timeline. the user speculating that Jack and i broke up. we didn’t.

i finally open my eyes again, my vision clearer now that the tears have spilled over, i run my thumb over the screen, scrolling through my feed.

—

@HUGHESLVR86: i see everyone on here sharing the photo from that girls insta story and speculating that Jack and y/n broke up but… have y’all thought about the possibility that maybe they didn’t? i know we all want to believe that Jack would never cheat but maybe we don’t know him.

- liked by @y/nontwt

@HUGHESISKARMA: guys, both y/n AND jack still have their pics together up on insta. leading me to believe that maybe they’re still together. in which case i feel for her right now. stop spreading that photo.

- liked by @y/nontwt

—

my scrolling is stopped by an incoming text from Jack’s brother.

—

FROM: Huggy 🧸

y/n, i’m sorry. i don’t know what he was thinking, if he was even thinking at all. please call me if you need someone to talk to. i’m here for you. even after you guys break up, you’ll still be my little sister.

—

Quinn’s sweet text only brings me more tears. not from his kind words, but from the fact that he thinks we’ll break up. because i know myself, and i know that if Jack comes home tomorrow apologizing and promising to never do it again, i won’t be able to get the courage to leave him. and i wonder what everyone will think of me. this isn’t like in the past. he’s in the limelight, everyone will know.

i fall asleep on the couch, crying and hoping that when i wake up, this will all have been a dream.

**

i wake up to the sound of the front door shutting and a heavy thud hitting the floor. and for a second, i’m excited to see my boyfriend. but then i remember why i’m on the couch. why my eyes are sore. it wasn’t just another night of falling asleep watching netflix. he cheated on me.

Jack’s footsteps halt at the living room entrance, and i look up to see him watching me. and when he sees my red puffy eyes and tear stains on my face, i know he knows that i know. his eyes are full of regret, that much i can see. he slowly makes his way over to the couch, gauging my reaction, and sits down on the other side, away from me. more tears build up in my eyes and i let them slowly roll down my cheeks, washing away the old tear tracks and leaving new ones in their place.

“you promised.” my voice is barely above a whisper, but it still cracks.

“i know. i’m so sorry, baby. i am. i don’t know why i did it. i was drunk and she came up to me and i just— there’s no excuse.” he shakes his head before placing it in his hands, his elbows resting against his knees. “i’m so sorry, baby. i didn’t mean for it to happen. and it won’t happen again. i swear. it was a mistake, and i- i- i swear on my life. it won’t happen again.”

i manage a weak nod. proving myself right from last night. i can’t leave. what is wrong with me? why can’t i leave? why can’t i just accept that he did it once and he’ll more than likely do it again, so i should get out of the relationship before he breaks me even more?

“okay.” i whisper. “i believe you.”

he looks up at me with bloodshot eyes and a hopeful face.

“you’re not leaving?” he asks.

“no. i’m not leaving, Jack.” i tell him. “i love you. and if you tell me it was a mistake and it won’t happen again, then i believe you.”

he moves to the cushion beside me, taking my face in his hands and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“i promise. i swear it. it won’t happen again.”

“okay.”

**

as i predicted, everyone knows. it’s been three weeks since Jack came home and confessed, and last night he took me on a date. i posted some pictures from last night on insta, and the comments have been all about what happened three weeks ago.

—

@y/noninsta just posted

Liked by @trevorzegras and 23,482 others

@y/noninsta: i’m a lucky lucky girl 🤍🪐

Load more comments

@user1: oh, she’s still with him??

@jackhughes: I love you babygirl

@y/noninsta: i love you to the moon & to saturn

@trevorzegras: cringe 🤮

@y/noninsta: your face is cringe

@user2: idk how she can stay with him after that photo

@user3: fr! i would’ve been out of there so quick

@_quinnhughes: that second pic was a jump scare. you put his ugly mug on here but not your pretty face sis?

@y/noninsta: this is why you’re my favorite hughes brother

@lhughes_06: @y/noninsta what am i?! chopped liver?! i at least deserve to be ranked higher than Jack

@_quinnhughes: @lhughes_06 bro wtf

@user4: wow, kinda just lost a little respect for her ngl

—

my eyes well with tears and i take a loaded breath. my heart burns, and when i close my eyes, it’s the same way it’s been the past three weeks. all i can see is that stupid picture. i thought i could do this, but it hurts differently than in the past. in the past, i was able to move past it until it happened again, but this time, my heart hasn’t stopped hurting. every time i look at him, my heart breaks all over again remembering that he was with another girl.

i set my phone down on the couch beside me, and stare at the wall. i know what i have to do, but i don’t know if i can.

“hey babe, i’m heading out with the guys.” Jack walks into the living room, slipping his jacket on. but when he sees me, he freezes. “hey, what’s wrong?”

“i can’t do this.” my voice cracks, and now that i’ve finally said it, i feel a weight lifted off my chest.

“what?” Jack comes to stand in front of me. “c’mon don’t say that.”

“no. Jack, i really- i really can’t do this.” i tell him.

“i thought we worked past this? i thought you said it was okay. i told you, it was a mistake.” he crouches down in front of me to look at my face, and the walls i’ve built to hold myself up finally come crashing down. i look at his face and all i can think of is that picture.

“i know but, ever since you admitted it, i keep picturing her lips on your neck. i can’t unsee it, Jack.” i stand on shaky legs and he rises in tandem. “i hate that because of you, i can’t love you. not like i used to. because if we keep doing this— this thing, then i’m just gonna continue to worry even more than before. every time you leave, i’m gonna wonder if you’re out there sleeping with another girl. again.”

“that’s not fair.” he shakes his head.

“you’re right. it’s not.” i admit. “which is why i need to leave, Jack. i really hope you can understand that. it’s not fair on me. to constantly have to wonder who you’re with. or what you’re doing. and i can’t take that. i can’t trust you anymore, Jack.”

“so you can come on roadies with me until you trust me again.” he suggests, and the thought just makes me even more upset.

“i can’t just drop everything to go on the road with you multiple times a month! i have a job, Jack.” i tell him.

“so quit your job. i make plenty to take care of us.”

“you want me to quit the job, that i’ve worked so hard to get, so i can come on the road and babysit you to make sure you don’t cheat on me again?” i ask. “which will provide me with nothing to fall back on when you do inevitably do something again, and i actually decide to leave.”

“but i’m not gonna do anything!” he defends.

“yeah, that’s what you’ve been telling me for the last two years and look how that turned out.”

“yeah, and i didn’t do anything for two years! you can’t cut me some slack?” he argues and i put my hands together in a slow clap.

“you’re right, Jack. you waited two years to cheat on me. do you want a medal? a trophy?” i say. “yes, you didn’t do it for two years, but you still did it eventually. after you promised me you never would. you broke your promise.”

“so you’re just gonna throw this all away over a mistake?” he asks.

“i’m not the one who’s throwing this away. you did when you decided to get with another girl. in public. i’m just making sure i don’t get hurt again.” i tell him. i make my way to our bedroom, Jack following behind me.

“y/n, i’m sorry. okay? i’m sorry! i made a mistake. i told you it won’t happen again.” i ignore him, pulling my suitcase from under our bed and start randomly throwing clothes and an assortment of my things inside of it. “babe, let’s talk about this. c’mon. yes, okay, i slept with another girl. yes, i was caught. but if you didn’t know, wouldn’t that have been worse?”

his words make me freeze, and a sinking feeling settles in my gut. i turn to him.

“caught? Jack, is this the first time you’ve cheated on me?” he avoids eye contact and i swallow a lump in my throat. “Jack. tell me.”

“no.” it feels like my heart has shattered in my chest. the fragments getting caught in my lungs as i struggle to breathe. when i finally let out a shaky breath, it turns into a sob and i collapse to my knees in front of our bed.

this entire time he’s had me fooled. playing the role of doting boyfriend. when instead he was going behind my back. i don’t even know how many times, but it proves he was lying when he said it was a mistake.

i feel Jack’s hands settle on my back, trying to rub it and soothe me but i push them off and collect myself. i continue rushing around the room, packing my bag faster than before. zipping it up, i pull it off the bed and walk out of the room again, Jack trailing behind me once more.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he tells me, when i stop at the front door, slipping my shoes on. i grab my keys from the dish by the door and unclip the house key, setting it on the table.

“yeah, i am too.” i tell him, opening the door. “bye, Jack.”

i step out, shutting the door behind me, my tears blurring my vision as i head out of the apartment complex and to my car. i’m able to place my suitcase in my trunk and slip into the drivers seat before i breakdown again.

i don’t even know where to go. Jack was the only person i had here.

i pull out my phone, typing up a text to my boss and telling her there’s been an emergency and i’ll be using my built up two months of paid time off, before scrolling in my contacts and typing on the name of the only person i can think of right now. i put the phone up to my ear, listening to it ring for a few minutes before they pick up.

“hello?”

“Quinn.” i don’t manage to get another word out before i let out another sob.

“i’m booking you a plane ticket right now. it’s okay, y/n/n. it’ll be okay.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nj devils #faithlynn’s writings <3 #babydollmarauders

[beewolfwrites]

for part 2 of the Japanese speaking one, can u do one where reader and chishiya fall for each other and the reader wants to confess to him in Japanese but doesn’t know how and he helps her? ty :)

Language Barrier - Part 2

Since this is a second part for the original prompt, I've kept it also in the AWIAF fic world, but more towards the end.

Hope you enjoy!

(Chishiya x oc/reader)

---------------------------------------------------------

‘You’ve improved.’ 

Chishiya emerged from the hallway and sat down in the armchair opposite mine. Even in candlelight, the furniture store was cosy and quiet, the perfect place for curling up and studying in a comfy reading chair. With the games suspended after the Ten of Hearts, life in the Borderlands had slowed. On one hand, we were waiting for something to happen at any moment, yet the more days that drifted by, the more we were lulled into a sense of security. Kuina had ventured out earlier to find supplies, leaving Chishiya and I alone in the store. 

He had spent most of the evening upstairs, tinkering with a can of orange soda and wires, whilst I focused all my attention on reading out sentences and committing new words to memory. Ever since my first game - Rummy - where I had barely understood the rules being read out, I had been chipping away at the Japanese language, making a note of and practicing phrases I had heard Kuina and Chishiya use. Although I was still laughably bad at it, I was actually quite proud of how far I’d come. 

‘ありがとう.’ Thank you, Chishiya.

‘Your pronunciation is clearer too,’ he commented. ‘You’ve stopped blending the words together. I can actually understand what you’re saying.’ 

I thought for a minute about how I wanted to respond, double checking a certain word in my pocket dictionary. ‘あの缶に何してるの?’ What are you doing with that soda can? 

Earlier, I’d briefly seen him connecting it up to a string of wires, but he had worked quietly and avoided divulging any information. I hadn’t wanted to pester him at the time, but I was genuinely curious about his latest project. 

‘爆弾を作っている,’ he replied simply. I’m creating a bomb.

‘Wait, really?’ 

That was definitely not what I thought he was going to say. At all. How did he expect me to react to this? Chishiya didn’t exactly look like a terrorist in the making, nor an angry schoolboy locked up in his bedroom surfing the internet. Seeing Chishiya’s raised brow and lack of response, I quickly realised I had slipped up. 

‘本当か’ I corrected myself. ‘どうやって学びましたか’ Really? How did you learn to do that?

‘学んだ,’ he said, simply. ‘学びました is too formal. You’ve never spoken formally with me anyway.’ 

He explained his answer in quick, fluid Japanese, and although I understood some of the words he’d used, he was running through each sentence far too fast. The words only stood out individually like stars, and I couldn’t quite harpoon them together to form anything coherent. And given the mischief dancing in his expression, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

‘I give up,’ I admitted. ‘You’re speaking too fast. And I don’t know half of those words.’ 

He didn’t admonish me, like I’d expected, but instead simply translated his answer. ‘I taught myself over time, the same way I made that taser. Once you have a grasp of circuits and wiring, you’re already halfway there.’ 

This would also explain how Chishiya knew how to screw with the wiring in Niragi’s bedside lamps. Either he payed a bizarre amount of attention at school, which I couldn’t see him doing, or he had too much spare time on his hands. 

I frowned, flicking through my notes. ‘And you genuinely thought I’d be able to understand all that wire talk?’ 

‘You never know. It could come in useful in a game.’ 

I couldn’t argue with that. But in actuality, I did need his help with a certain phrase. There was something I wasn’t quite sure about - it was said differently depending on formality, but as I was still dipping my feet into Japanese culture, I wasn’t quite confident about the difference between each variant and when they should be used. 

‘Hey, Chishiya? There’s something I’m not sure how to say.’ I flipped my notes around so that he could read them better, though he simply stared at them with apathy.

‘What is it?’ 

‘Well… I’m really grateful to Kuina, for being my friend throughout all this craziness,’ I explained carefully. ‘I wanted to tell her that I love her, because I really do. But I didn’t want to use the wrong “I love you”. I know there’s 好き, and there’s 大好き. But this dictionary translates it as 愛している. If Kuina’s my friend, which one do I use?’ 

Chishiya closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the armchair. ‘Kuina already knows you’re her friend. There’s no need to say it.’ 

‘But what if I want to?’ 

‘Then you’d just use 好き or 大好き at the most,’ he said. Half asleep like this, it was uncanny how much he resembled a cat, or even a fox. ‘But you’re not really asking for Kuina’s sake.’ 

My heart shuddered. 

He knows?

I swallowed, nervous that I had been caught out so easily. ‘And if I’m not actually asking for Kuina, which one would I use instead?’ 

His mouth tilted upwards. That sly, sly man. ‘It depends on how you feel. 愛している is only used in movies.’ 

‘And you wouldn’t use 好き or 大好き?’ 

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘If you’re a schoolgirl.’ 

‘And people definitely don’t use 愛している in real life?’ 

‘Nobody really says these things,’ he replied curtly. ‘It’s too embarrassing for most Japanese people.’

Except I’m not Japanese.

I didn’t reply, muling over each of the three possibilities. One was too mushy and gushy to use in real life. The other two were apparently too simplistic. From what I knew of Japanese society so far, people didn’t usually say these things out loud. Love and affection was something to be expressed in small actions and gestures. 

One eye cracked open. ‘Well?’ 

‘Well what?’ 

‘After all that, aren’t you going to say anything?’ 

Now it was my turn to smirk. ’Only when you’re not expecting it.’ 

Faintly entertained, he sat up straighter, pulling himself out of his catnap. His small break over, he retreated back upstairs and returned to tinkering with the can. The evening drifted on, and I did try to stay awake in case Kuina returned with goodies. But as the darkness crept in and the candles played magic tricks with shadows on the walls, I sank down into a different darkness altogether, dreaming of sand and chlorine, playing cards and bullets. 

In my dream state, I hadn’t realised I was shivering until the softness of a blanket was wrapped around me. A pair of hands gently removed my notebook, pen and dictionary. Barely awake, I slid my eyes open a fraction, registering the silhouette walking away from where I was curled up in the armchair. 

‘Chishiya,’ I murmured. ‘もう愛している.’ 

I love you too. 

#alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no arisu #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x oc #chishiya x reader #aib

[felony-bunny]

Malleus x non-gendered reader

Scenario: Malleus doesn’t understand how mc doesn’t fear him. He doesn’t know if they’re brave, dumb, or not afraid of death. Spoiler they’re all of the above.

Btw I’m on chapter 6 and have no clue what happens in the next chapter.

LETs GET INTO THIS MOFO

(I wrote this all forever ago but I thought that I could add more to make it better but I was wrong. For some reason this was so fucking difficult. This isn’t the first time I’ve done a oneshot too. I literally do not think that I could write anymore twst oneshots because of how bad this came out. I’m literally so sorry. You can read if you want but I hate this so so much. And also sorry for the wait.)

Most people feared Malleus’s strength. That’s what he was used too. He usually didn’t focus on people enough to care but you were different. He could understand how you weren’t scared before you know how he was but even after you found out you still called him by that silly nickname and acted the same towards him. Every once and awhile he tries to think of a reason for this.

1.) You are actually really stupid

2.) You’re some sort of narcissist and think you two are on the same level

3.) You have short term memory loss

4.) You’re stupidly brave

5.) You do not fear death

He crossed out 2 and 3 after hanging around you for a bit. But even after all the times you two have hung out he still hasn’t been able to understand how you work. One day his curiosity took over and he asked you outright.

“Child of Man?”

“Yea yea?” You absent mindedly replied as you balanced on some old bricks.

“Why don’t you seem to fear me? You have many reasons to be.”

Well standing on one wobbly brick you looked up at him “Why should I? It’s not like you’ve hurt or threatened me.”

Do you not realize how much of a threat he can be?

“Still…“

“Still what? Listen I get you’re pretty overpowered, like everyone wastes money on pulls for you in Gacha games kind of overpowered.”

Huh?

“But you’ve been nice to me and that’s all I really need to trust you.”

He didn’t like the next words that came out of his mouth but he needed to know

“Child of man, I could easily kill you. Do you know how much of a danger I could be to you if I chose to?”

You both stand there for a minute.

Did he mess up?

Did he bring up something you haven’t thought of and now you were scared?

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I mean if you ever did kill me it would suck but whatever.” You look down at the brick wobbling.

Did you just say whatever at the possibility of being fatally injured?

“Why don’t you value your own life?”

“Is that really a question? What about my life actually has value? I mean it’s not guaranteed that I’ll go back home or that I’ll be able to start a new life here and if I do go back let’s say three years later I’d have to go back to school and waste a shit load of time and money on it. Honestly there are millions of things that could go wrong. It’s pretty difficult just existing here and not knowing what’s going on at home but whatever.” You jump off the brick and continue walking “At the end I just have to believe that things will string together and I don’t have to worry.” You spin around to face him and smile.

You say the weirdest things but still enchant him every time. Your a brave idiot who doesn’t care about how badly things could end and just put it up to luck, but that made him love you.

He smiled “I see. My apologies that was a foolish question on my part.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst incorrect quotes #twst #twst wonderland #twst headcanons #twst mc #twst yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus

[whorekneecentral]

Hi bestie can I get phone sex with Erling along with prompt #64. Some details: the reader is away for work and Erling calls her late at night, he’s all whiny because he’s horny and he misses the reader. They rub one out together.

the last line made me giggle won't lie // prompt: “say my name- louder.” 

You were supposed to be home this weekend - Erling's first weekend off in a while and you got stuck on a stupid work trip. You tried so hard to get out of it and have a co-worker cover for you but the last 2 times you were supposed to go, you swapped so you'd be able to join your boyfriend at his games.

Now he was stuck at home all alone in your big bed while you were 4 hours and two cities away.

Erling could still smell your perfume on the sheets, the ideas swirling in his head; he is but a man and not one with a strong mind when it came to you.

Erling's cock twitches at the thought of you, now constrained by the tightness of his shorts. He hits your number, the phone on speaker next to him as he shoves his shorts down. He felt guilty for calling but he lets the line rings a few times and he figures you’re sleeping but you pick up at the last second. 

“Erling, baby?” Your voice laced with sleep as you called out to him. 

You can hear the slight whimper and breathing from his end. “Sorry,” he breathed, hand wrapped around his cock. “Did I wake you?” 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, shifting to lay on your back so you can set the phone on the pillow next to you. “Are you okay? I thought you’d be sleeping.”  You yawned.

 He mumbles, “I’m okay, sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine honey, what’s wrong?”

He sighs, "I miss you." The words earn him a smile he couldn't see. "I miss you too."

"I wish you were here."

"Why's that?" You asked, you could hear the movement on his end of the call. It was abundantly clear what was happening.

Erling is quiet, his hand moving up and down his cock slowly as he imagines what it would be like if you were there instead. You find yourself in the same situation; imagining what your boyfriend was doing on the other end of the line, your hand slipping down the front of your panties. 

“What did you call for, Erling? ” You ask him softly, your voice pulling him back to reality. “Mhm, missed your pretty face,” he says and you smile. 

Even when he’s horny, he’s still as charming as the day you met him. 

“I think you miss more than my face.” 

He plays dumb, “what do you mean?” And it’s almost like you can see the cocky smile on his face. 

“I think you miss me, honey. My touch, my hands, my lips, my taste.. my-” “Yeah,” he cuts you off with a ragged breath. “Everything about you.” 

“Mhm,” you smile to yourself, rubbing slow circles over your clit. “I was thinking about you,” you tell him, “missing the way your fingers stretch me out, make me feel so full.” 

“Really?” He asks a little too eagerly, mentally kicking himself for sounding so desperate. You hum in response.

“I wish I was there,” he admits, hand still moving but a bit faster this time. “Me too,” you hum, eyes closed as your other hand reaches down to rub on your clit.

Both you and Erling were on the edge of orgasm, the tightening knot in your stomach. “Erling, god, fuck, please.” You ramble out.

He finally finds the energy to speak. "Say my name- louder."

Head tossed back into the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as you feel yourself slip over the edge. Your fingers are moving but you barely register the physical feeling of it. Erling's name falls from your lips like a prayer, along with a string of please, yes and all the explicits under the sun. Erling follows a moment after you; his name coming from you, in that context, imagining how pretty you must look was enough for him. The warm liquid all over his hand and his lower stomach. 

"You there?" You whispered after a few moments and he answers with an uh huh. You can't help the giggle. "I love you," you tell him.

He smiles, "love you more."

#this ran from me loool #erling haaland #erling haaland smut #erling haaland x reader

[garbinge]

Riding With Angels

Jax Teller x F!Reader

Request by: @justreblogginfics​ Scenario #1 Decorating the tree Dialogue #4: "I know we said no presents this year but..."

A/N: Okay so I’m either 2 months late for a holiday fic OR 10 months early... you decide lol. If you know me, you know I can’t write anything without making it angsty. This can be read as a standalone but is meant to be a continuation of Home. Thank you for submitting this... I had a really great time brainstorming this up and writing it!!!

Word Count: 4.1k words

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Cursing, angst, mentions of death, car/motorcycle accidents. Canon-level angst. 

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc (happy to add anyone to any future SOA fics!)

The atmosphere had everything going for it to be the perfect holiday evening. There was Christmas music playing lightly in the background, the kids and you had baked cookies and attempted to make gingerbread houses during the day. You had started to hang up some string lights throughout the windows in the house, but currently you were staring at the tree. Abel was dancing around the fake pine roping tinsel around it as Thomas was picking through the storage bin of Christmas items with likely no thoughts but what would taste good. It was a picture perfect moment, but you couldn’t help but miss Jax. You hoped the kids didn’t feel the absence of their father as much as you did but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. A little hand tugged at your shirt, the motion caused you to shake yourself from your thoughts and look down at Abel. 

“When’s daddy coming home?” 

The question left a weight on you. Your eyes moved over to the clock that sat above the entryway table. 8:17PM. It was technically still early, you thought, even though you knew you were kidding yourself. You always found yourself in this position, waiting on Jax. You were brought back to reality when the doorbell rang. 

“Daddy will hopefully be home soon, baby.” You picked him up to offer a little bit of comfort to the kid before making your way to the door. 

“Is that him?” Abel said as the doorknob turned. Gemma appeared through the door with her keys in hand. “Grandma!” he called out and wiggled out of your grip. 

Gemma hugged the boy as he collided with her while you went to grab Thomas to say hello. 

“Sorry to drop by unexpectedly,” Gemma said as she made her way to the living room. 

“Are you?” You subtly snapped. 

Gemma looked at you with annoyance and a little shock in her eyes. It wasn’t like you to act like that, while you had your opinions on Gemma, especially after reading John Teller’s manuscript, you never showed your cards to her. It honestly had nothing to do with being scared of her, which is what Gemma probably thought, it had to do with the kids, with Jax, the family you built together and the plans you and Jax had for the future, not showing your true thoughts and feelings was for that reason only. And even with all of that in mind, you did love the woman, just not her choices in life. But at this moment, you were taking out your anger on Jax and the club on Gemma. 

You quickly responded “I’m sorry, I’m in a mood.” 

“Rare for you.” The statement usually would have been sarcastic out of the older woman’s mouth but she meant it, because you always were able to put on a face. Before you could continue to talk, Abel was dragging both you and Gemma into the living room begging for you to help with the tree decorating. 

Your eyes were focused on the dish in front of you. It was sparkling clean but you were scrubbing furiously as a way to get your frustration out. The kids were in the living room still with Gemma, you weren’t sure if they were still decorating the tree or had moved on to something else, but as long as Gemma had them under her supervision, your mind couldn’t bring itself to focus on that. You took the opportunity to be by yourself and be upset, you didn’t like showing that to the kids, between that and everything with Gemma you felt like there were rare and few times in between that you could be your true self. If anything, Jax was really the only person you were your true self with and with him being MIA more often than not these days made you feel like you were losing a part of yourself. Which is why you were taking it out on the dishes. You hated the fact you were losing yourself over a boy. And yes, you understood it was deeper than that. It wasn’t just a boy. It was your family. But nothing took the sting of that away. 

“Looks pretty clean to me.” Gemma’s voice sounded from behind you.

You took a large sigh and looked back at her over your shoulder. “Where are the kids?”

“Playing in the living room, Abel wanted to wait till Jax came home to finish the tree.” Gemma said, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. 

You mumbled under your breath, something that Gemma didn’t hear but she definitely understood what was happening.

“You gonna keep sulking or tell me what’s on that pretty lil mind of yours.”

You kept your mouth shut and moved back to a different dish in the sink, you weren’t going to entertain her on this because she wasn’t approaching the situation from a place with care, she was being nosy. 

“You know that ring on your finger doesn’t change anything.” 

And apparently now she was being mean. You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes moved down to your left hand where the silver engagement band glistened under the running water. 

“It’s the same Jax. Same club. Same ways of working. There’s gonna be late nights, sweetheart, that’s why you’re here, for the kids, for the house, you keep the foundation solid and they bring the money home for you to keep things solid. The ring doesn’t change that, if anything it makes it more prevalent.”

Boiling. Your blood was boiling. Now your thoughts of losing yourself were being taunted by the thought of being just a housewife, just someone’s old lady. 

Gemma might have been right in her time, even if the irony of the fact that she had never been one to sit on the sidelines, she might as well be patched with the sway she had on the men in the club, Jax included. 

“You realize you’re lecturing me because I’m upset Jax wasn’t here to decorate the tree with his kids.”  You turned to her, you started out the night giving her attitude and you weren’t going to stop now. “You talk about keeping this solid,” you waved your hands around the room, “how do I do that when my kids are asking about Jax all day long?”

“Your kids?” Gemma smiled.

You turned around again back to facing the sink and shook your head. “Why do you start these conversations when you just want to argue, your goal in this is to just come out on top. Those ARE my kids, Gemma. I feed them, I spend my days with them, my nights with them, I placed them in the best schools, best daycares, they call me mom for fucks sake.”

Gemma walked over to you, in a Teller attempt to apologize and clarify herself. 

“Those ARE your kids.” She said, “It’s just shocking to hear you say it.” 

“Shocking?” you turned realizing now, how close she was to you. 

“You’re very hard to read, you know.” She cocked an eyebrow up. 

That made you laugh, “I know what you’re saying, about keeping things solid, but you out of all people should know that it's different when they’re at the position they’re in. I’m not just a Son’s old lady. I’m the VPs old lady. I’m Jax Teller’s old lady.” 

“You aren’t just marrying the man, baby. You’re marrying the club.” 

Those words weighed heavy on you. You weren’t marrying the club. You and Jax had long conversations about leaving the club which is why you were feeling how you felt. Everything felt backwards, he was spending long nights doing club things, it seemed like he was getting deeper in the club when he was promising you that he was getting out. But in Gemma’s eyes that was fact so you quickly flipped a switch. 

“You’re right, sorry Gem. Just the holidays and stuff make it harder, you know.” You shrugged and dried your hands off. 

“C’mon, let’s get back to the boys.” Gemma tried to move past this whole conversation like nothing happened. 

“I’m gonna make myself a cup of coffee, I’ll meet you there in a minute.” You said with the best smile you could. 

You made your way to the kitchen table with your cup of coffee. Slamming your head against the table seemed like a viable option right now, but instead you opted to rub your temples. 

The door opened, causing your head to jerk up to see who it was. Even though there was only one person left who it could be, it was still surprising to see Jax at the door. Opie was behind him, both of them looking like they had the longest night of their life. Abel’s voice filled the entire house as he screamed in joy. 

“DADDY!!!!” His little feet making quick stomping noises as they darted toward his father. 

A smile grew on Jax’s face immediately, he bent down to catch Abel in his arms. At this point, Jax was already past the opening in the entryway that led to the kitchen, leaving you unnoticed in the kitchen. 

“Someone was waiting for you to come home so you could decorate the tree.” Gemma’s voice was low but you heard it. Your anger boiled in your throat again, that wasn’t for Gemma to tell, that was for you to tell, but you didn’t even get greeted in your own home yet so what did you honestly expect. 

Opie looked into the kitchen, his eyes taking in the scene of you. Clocking your frustration straight away, he called to Jax and nodded his head into the kitchen. Jax’s head peaked in and his expression dropped seeing you at the table. With a deep sigh, he entered the kitchen. 

“You want a cup of coffee?” Your feet were pushing up from your seat and making their way to the coffee machine before you could think, you knew that one hug from Jax and you’d be pushed over yet again. 

“I wanted to say hello to my wife.” You could hear how he was trying to work you in the tone of his voice. 

“Fiancé.” You corrected him and handed him a mug. 

His eyebrows raised, and a smirk played on his face. “I stand corrected.” A hand moved up in surrender while the other one gripped the coffee mug. 

You could hear Gemma and the boys playing together and Opie’s voice with them too. Now that was rare. Opie barely played with his own kids let alone Jax’s, which got you going down the rabbit hole of what that meant and how if Jax’s best friend could so easily dive back into the club after being so against it, was that what was happening with Jax. 

“What’s going on with you?” He asked genuinely. 

“What’s not going on, Jax? It’s fucking Christmas time and you’re barely home,” you paused to whisper your next sentence, “you told me you were done with this shit and now you’re deeper in than ever and you’re pushing me out, I don’t know anything that’s happening.” 

Jax understood your pain, but he wasn’t going to subject you to the club dramatics, he knew what he had to do to get out and he was doing it, despite what it might have looked like. 

“I’m sticking to our plan” His voice was firm. 

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “Our plan.” You laughed like that actually meant something. 

“Darlin’.” He was getting annoyed but trying to meet you halfway or somewhere.

“No, Jax. This isn’t something you can just sweet talk your way out of. This is our fucking life.” 

“Do you trust me?” He said, stepping towards you. 

“Less and less everyday.” You said truthfully and it pained his heart but he did understand. “But, yes. I do.” 

Jax peered into the living room, seeing Gemma in deep conversation with Opie. 

“You out of all people should know why I can’t just leave, why I have to leave everything in a good place. This was the last thing my dad had. I didn’t get a house or some real estate investment when he died,  this is what he left me. The club was his and I can’t just let it die because I want out.”

There was so much to argue with what he said, you read that manuscript and even though JT had blueprinted a way for the club to earn legit, you also knew that he ended it wanting to burn it all down. Jax believed that was just a desperate man angry at the world who knew he was on borrowed time, but you knew it was the writing of a man who had exhausted every option. The only reason you didn’t have it in you to say that to Jax was because you got it. This was what bonded you two. This was how you met and got to talking all those years ago…bonding over dead fathers and the irony of how they both had gone from motorcycle accidents. That day you met in the Harley shop, you both stood in the plaque aisle getting something to honor them. The very thing that glued you two together was the very thing tearing you apart.

You understood the pain of trying to live in their honor, do things to carry out their legacy. In fact, it was probably why you were so eager to get out of this horror of a town. But the same very thing is what was keeping Jax here. 

“I know I didn’t know JT, but, I can’t imagine he’d want you drowning, Jax. Exhausting your options is exactly what he did, there becomes a point where you have to recognize that before you end up like both of our fathers...” 

“Riding with Angels.” He finished your sentence looking at the two plaques that had brought you two together that hung in the kitchen. “That’s not gonna happen. Please, that’s why Opie’s here, I briefed him on everything tonight, I’m gonna give him JT’s book and just it’s gonna be fine, I need you to believe that.” Jax was begging you. 

Looking into his eyes, you saw he needed that faith. You thought back to what Gemma had said, that you need to be solid, be the foundation and keep things stable at home. Hating to admit it, but she was right. Even though she had no clue what was truly happening, she was right. And you hated that. 

But there was nothing you could do, and that’s what you hated even more. 

Feeling defeated, you stepped towards him, letting your hand raise and sit on the left side of his kutte, your fingers lightly swiping over the redwood original patch. Slowly your hand moved down to  grip his arm that was holding the coffee mug, your gaze moved up to his eyes, blue as ever, you wished you could get lost in them like you used to, before looking into Jax’s eyes felt like euphoria, it felt like young and wild passion, but lately it felt like you were drowning, looking into them was like a high tide pulling you back in deeper and deeper each time until you were drowning. And they did, because as you looked into them, you gave up and let the waves of baby blue take you in. “Tell your mom to go home, give Opie the manuscript, and decorate the tree with me and the kids.” You demanded those three things, if you were going to give him another chance you at least needed to feel like you were in charge. “I’ll be in the bedroom, waiting, I can’t look at either of them right now.” 

Truthfully, you would have said that about anyone associated with the club. You felt defeated, broken, and like you had lost the biggest game of tug o war. Realizing the club took priority over you was a reality that slapped you across the face every time and looking at Gemma and Opie was just pouring salt into that wound.

He tried to smile down at you, trying to offer compassion even though truthfully he was glad that a fight didn’t escalate and he had the opportunity to show you he had everything under control.

You escaped to the bedroom, not even glancing up to Opie and Gemma as you walked down the hallway, their eyes were burning into you but still you didn’t even look through your peripheral vision. 

As you stood in your shared bedroom, part you thought to pack your shit up and leave, you could go through the window, take only what you needed and just leave it all behind. You stared at the open closet where your suitcase sat, it was covered by Jax’s duffel, the irony behind it all. Before you could have a thought more, you felt a tug at your pants. As you looked down into the little eyes that were staring back up at you, every thought of leaving escaped you. There was a slight giggle out of his mouth as he tucked his head into you. A pang of guilt hit you for a moment, that you even thought about leaving. If Jax’s eyes were the high tide drowning you, Abel’s were the breath of fresh air to save you. 

“Daddy says to come out to the tree.” The boy hid his face again with a giggle.

“Oh, really? Are we going to finish decorating it all together?” You asked bending down to his level. 

“He said Santa gave him something to give to you.” 

“Santa, huh? I can’t believe daddy knows Santa!” You teased the boy, he laughed and pulled your arm because he seemed eager to see what it was. “Come on, let’s go.” You said picking him up and walking out to the living room. 

Jax had been placing ornaments on the tree with Thomas who was trying to pull them off. 

“I hear Santa gave you a gift for me.” Your voice had changed, it wasn’t as lively as it was when you talked with Abel but it also wasn’t as rigid as when you were talking to Jax. Somewhere in the middle of that was where you were now. 

Jax smiled, and bent down to grab a black bag that was under the tree. "I know we said no presents this year but...Santa doesn’t listen.” Jax smirked as he handed the package over to you. “Santa also didn’t have time to wrap it.” He smiled, his grin was shit eating and if he didn’t have Thomas in his arms you would have pushed him back slightly but you just shook your head and took the black bag in your free hand, the one that didn’t have Abel. 

It was a pretty big package, decently heavy. You placed Abel down, he started decorating the tree, handing ornaments up to Jax and Thomas as you stared at the bag. 

“You gonna open it or what?” Jax asked, still grinning. 

“Open it! Open it!” Abel jumped up and down. 

With a deep sigh you grabbed what was inside the black bag to find another bag around whatever the item was. This bag however, was clear with the words ‘EVIDENCE’ printed across it. There was some writing on the white printed square on the front of the bag. A frown filled your face, a fucking evidence bag? What was Jax thinking? Your eyes scanned over the bag reading the red marker notes. 

April 28th, 1994 Highway 99 Marker 78 TOD: 11:37

This was all the information of when your father died, your heart started beating faster as you started to come to terms with what this was. Your hand opened the evidence bag and met the fabric from inside. The feeling of the worn leather and patches felt like the cure you needed. It sent something over your entire body. Just when you thought that nothing could beat this feeling, you took it out of the bag. The smell of your father’s cologne was still faint on the fabric but strong as it hit your nose. The tears built up as you let the evidence bag fall to the ground and the leather jacket fully drop open. The brown leather was so worn, it had seen a lot over the years of your father wearing it, many highways, many states. The patches each had a story of their own. Most of them coming from the different states he had traveled to, Nevada, Texas, Arizona and more. Some to honor his time in the military and service to the county. Some just for decoration, a skeleton’s middle finger, a bear with it’s teeth showing, a compass. Then your hand passed over the patch you gifted him when you were a kid. #1 Dad. It was worn, more worn than you had remembered, but that’s when you saw the scuff from the accident. It had ended where the #1 Dad patch was, expanding across a large amount of other ones, making them have loose stitching where the leather was scratched. The pavement probably ripping the threads from them off as he slid against it from the accident. It offered you a bit of closure, seeing how it all happened. You had begged the police department for more information besides a crash, the report you saw didn’t even have an officer sketch of the accident and since foul play was a potential factor, they had kept all the evidence. You gave up years ago trying to get the evidence from lockup, but somehow it was sitting in your hands right now. 

Looking up from jacket, your eyes blurry from tears, you stared at Jax. 

“How?” It was the only word you could get out of your mouth. 

Jax placed Thomas on the ground to crawl around, and turned up the Christmas music so it would be harder for them to hear what he was gonna say. 

“Unser owed me one. He was able to pull a few strings at the Stockton State Trooper station. That’s why I was home late tonight, Ope and I went to pick it up and got stuck in traffic on the 99, construction shit.” 

You were in awe. After everything you tried, after all these years, you had his jacket in your hand, you had closure in your heart, something that almost felt unreal. 

“Unser has the police report, the real one. Figured you’d want the choice to look at it,” he started to explain, “that and it wasn’t up for civilian grabs.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Thought the jacket would be more of a heartwarming gift. There’s something in the inside pocket, too. Pictures. I didn’t look through them, I just wanted to make sure it was really it, based on what you’ve told me.” 

“Jax–I,” you had no words, you brought your hands up to wipe the tears from your eyes. 

“Why is mommy crying?” Abel said trying to raise his voice over the music. 

“Santa got me a really good gift, Abel.” You said looking directly into Jax’s eyes. “Something she’d been asking for for a long long time.” 

“Does that mean Santa is going to get me a skateboard this year?” Abel asked excitedly. 

You and Jax both let out a laugh, yours was cutting through the tears. “Thank you. So much.” You mouthed to him, it was all you could offer up with how much emotion you were feeling. 

Jax just shook his head with a nod, like it was nothing, a simple favor but he knew how much it meant to you.

“Come on, let’s finish decorating this tree.” Jax’s voice got higher as he spoke to the kids, picking Abel up to get the candy cane ornament near the top of the tree.

After placing the jacket safely on the couch for now, you picked Thomas up, so the 4 of you could all be at eye level. You looked over at Jax who was laughing about something with Abel. The music had changed, one of your favorite Christmas songs playing in the background. As the latest laugh left Jax’s mouth, his eye caught yours and he looked at you. Like really looked at you.

The blue eyes you were staring at weren’t trying to drown you in that moment anymore, they had a tint of hope and glimmer in them. You didn’t feel like the tide was trying to bring you in, you felt like maybe they were saving you. So for what you told yourself would be the last time, you forgave Jax, and more importantly you believed Jax. Because he had proven to do the impossible tonight for you, he must have been able to do it again for your family. Right?

#Jax Teller #jax teller fanfic #jax teller x reader #Jackson Teller #soa fanfic #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction

[marie-swriting]

Confession Of Love - Jake "Hangman" Seresin [1/2]

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Speak Now TV Masterlist

Part two

Part one - two (French version)

Summary : You've been seeing Jake for four months but you're still not officially dating. It's going to happen soon, though, right ?

Warnings : Jake is an asshole (it's not against him, I love him, I swear), angst, cheating, alcohol consumption (be careful with your alcohol consumption), maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 4.7k

Song inspiration : Foolish One (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault) by Taylor Swift

you take the new arrival of books in the box next to you and put them in the correct shelves. You pay attention to place them in alphabetical order and sometimes, you take a look at the back cover, adding then a new book to your - long - to be read list. You set the last book of a saga in its place when a masculine voice comes behind you.

“Sorry, would you have a book on how to apologise after cancelling a date last minute ?”

“Jake !” you exclaim, taking him in your arms. “What are you doing here ?”

“I felt bad about yesterday. Those are for you.” he says, breaking the embrace and handing you a big bunch of red roses.

“Oh, thank you ! They’re beautiful.” you smile, pecking his lips, “But I already told you it was okay. You were tired because of your day at work, I get it. We can always plan something another time, like tonight for example. My shift ends at 6:30 P.M, you can come pick me up at seven.”

Hope can be heard in your voice on top of nervosity. Jake and you can’t see each other frequently because of his job as a naval aviator and he’s also often hanging out with his friends. You’re aware it’s normal for Jake and you to not spend every single day together though, two or three times a week would be a good start you think.

You look at him, waiting for his answer impatiently but as soon as you hear him sigh, you guess his answer. Even if you expected it, you can’t help but feel disappointed. 

“The problem is I already told my colleague I would spend the night with them.”

“It’s okay. You can send me a text when you’re free.” you affirm, forcing a little smile.

“Perfect. I’m not gonna bother you much longer. See you.” he says and kisses you.

You lovingly watch Jake leaving. Once he’s not in your line of sight anymore, you smell the roses and your disappointment leaves your body to let affection take over. It doesn’t matter if he wasn’t able to have some free time for you that night, he always makes sure to make it up to you like today. You stay in your bubble and walk in the direction of the backshop to put the flowers down. You find a container to put your roses in when your colleague Cora blows your bubble.

“Who gifted you those roses ?”

“Jake. They’re pretty, aren’t they ?”

“Wow, he must feel ashamed about a lot of things.” she comments, gazing at the flowers while you put them in the makeshift vase. 

“Not at all. Why do you say that ?”

“Like they always say, the bigger the bouquet, the bigger the guilt.”

“No one says that.” you state, frowning. 

“He cancelled again, didn’t he ?” she says, her question sounding more like an affirmation.

“He has a good reason.”

“I bet he does ! I don’t understand how you can still be with him. If my boyfriend was always cancelling dates, I-”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” you interrupt her, avoiding her gaze.

“What do you mean ?”

“We’re not really dating.” you inform and she gives you a look so you quickly add : “We’re taking things slow. Jake can be on a deployment any day so we don’t want too many strings attached.”

“Wait, you’re telling me you’ve been with a guy for more than four months, you go on dates, you kiss, you sleep at each other’s house but you’re not official ? He’s worse than I thought. I mean, Y/N, don’t forget about his reputation ! Jake doesn’t do serious relationship. And just to prove it to you, has he finally presented you to his friends ?” Cora asks and you stay silent. “That’s what I thought. Why are you still with him ? He’s going to break your heart just like Logan.”

“He’s different !” you say, angry by her words and the mention of your ex. “Look, you don’t know him and you know nothing about my relationship with Jake so stop giving me unsolicited advice. I’ve learned from my mistakes, I know what I’m doing.”

On that note, you pass by your colleague and go back to your work. While you keep reorganising the books, you can’t prevent yourself from thinking back to your conversation with Cora. You know she didn’t mean any harm but you’re annoyed by the way she thinks you’re too foolish to know how to handle your love life on your own. You’ve known men… stupid ones, to stay politically correct, however you know better now and Jake has proven to you he’s different from your exes. It’s not because he cancels a lot of dates that he’s a bad guy. He is a nice guy. You’re sure of it.

At the end of the day, you take back your roses and bid Cora goodbye without adding anything else, still pissed off by her words. Upon arriving at your place, you put the roses in a real vase and set it on your dinner table.

That night, you spend it alone eating, watching Pride And Prejudice. As you’re watching it, you can’t help but melt because of Mr.Darcy’s confession of love to Elizabeth. You’re waiting for the day where it’ll be your turn, the day where, like those cheesy romances you read, you will get your confession full of love by the love of your life. You know you look like a hopeless romantic but you grew up with this idea of great love stories where the man is perfect and you’ve been searching for him since your teenage years. Maybe Jake will be this man and he’ll confess his feelings to you soon. You like him a lot and you wish you could share the future you have in mind with him.

Once your movie is over, you take your phone and check your notifications. You haven’t received anything. Not a call, nor a message. You thought that maybe Jake would send you a text to tell you about his day or at least say some nice words but nothing. Radio silence. It should be a good sign he’s having fun with his friends and yet, you can’t stop yourself from thinking this silence sounds like some bad signs ; he doesn’t seem to miss you. Sure he’s with his friends, you know he’s not spending his night on his phone though, a text wouldn’t be too much ! With mixed feelings, you put down your phone and start watching another romantic movie.  

During the whole night, you keep checking your phone without any change. When you go to bed around midnight, you keep on sighing and your mind starts thinking back to your relationship with Jake and to doubt it. 

Once you’re laying down on your bed, you glance one last time at your phone and when you see nothing new, you groan and aggressively put your cellphone on your nightstand. You change position in your bed and try to fall asleep, in vain. You toss and turn and yet, you don’t seem to be comfortable enough and your mind who is currently overthinking doesn’t make things better. This lack of message from Jake hurts you more than you care to admit. One thing is certain, you won’t get your love confession tonight. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten ahead of yourself so much ? Maybe your relationship with Jake won’t last ? Maybe there was a little bit of truth in Cora’s words ? You shake your head, hoping to get rid of these voices who start to make you more puzzled. If you discuss it with Jake, surely the situation will get better. Right ?

At least, you feel like the situation gets better the following week. You haven’t really talked with Jake but you’ve been able to see each other more often. 

Today, you spend the afternoon together. You don’t do anything special. Jake just came to your apartment and you stay on the couch watching movies and talking about random things. 

Your head on his shoulder, you think you were right to trust Jake. When he has the time, he’s the perfect… boyfriend ? Partner ? Friend ? Whatever the word may be, he is perfect. You never argue and your conversation knows no awkward silence ; everything is for the best in the best of all possible worlds. You even feel like you’re getting closer and closer to the moment where you’ll finally be official. You’ll finally be able to call him yours and you’ll be able to share more than some hours here and there with Jake. You can imagine a whole future with him, that’s why you want to believe so hard that what you have is something good, despite the particular circumstances. 

As soon as it’s getting late, Jake gets ready to go back to his house. From time to time, he stays to sleep at yours however when he has to wake up early the next day, he prefers to go home, his apartment being closer to his workplace. Once he’s set to go, Jake walks to the door while you follow him, tiredness visible on your face.

“Send me a message when you’ve arrived.” you say, yawning and Jake tenderly looks at you.

“I will.”

“Can we see each other next Saturday ?”

“I’ve already got something planned with my squad at the Hard Deck.”

“And do you think it’d bother them a lot if I came with you ?” you ask with a small voice before embarrassment catches you. “Sorry, it was rude. I shouldn’t have invited myself like that. It was stupid. I�� Tell me when you get home. Good night.” you exclaim, ready to close the door but Jake stops you.

“It wasn’t stupid. Actually, I’ve been thinking of introducing you to them for a long time now.”

“Really ?”

“Sure. We’ve known each other for four months, it’s normal for you to meet them. I’ll pick you up and we’ll spend the whole evening together.” he states, putting his hands on your cheeks.

“Perfect.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Jake gives you a smile before pressing his lips on yours. Your kiss only lasts a few seconds and you enjoy it as much as possible, celebrating this new milestone in your relationship. You’re still not official, nonetheless he wants to introduce you to his friends, you’re on the right track. Once Jake breaks the kiss, he tenderly strokes your cheek before turning around and walking away. You watch him leave then close your door, a goofy smile on your face.

When you get to the Hard Deck, Jake’s arm around your waist the following Saturday, it’s not a goofy smile you have on your face anymore but a nervous one. You know Jake is close with his colleagues and you want to make a good impression. You hope with all your heart this moment will go well. For you, this is a key moment and you can’t allow yourself to make a wrong move.

As soon as you find the group of people wearing Khakis, except one man is wearing a Hawaiian shirt, your hands become a bit more clammy. Jake quickly introduces you to every member of his squadron and you do your best to remember their names. For now, you only know Natasha’s name, as she’s the only woman. Jake proposes something to drink and judging you need to relax, you ask for a beer. He kisses your cheek before going to the bar, leaving you alone.

“I can’t believe you’re real.” Natasha starts with eyes wide open. “When Bagman told us he wanted to present us to someone, I thought he was joking. I never thought he was the kind of guy to settle down and I have to admit, I’m surprised to see you can put up with him.”

“Once you get to know him, he lets the arrogance go and you realise he’s a nice guy.” you respond, laughing.

“Hangman said you two met four months ago, right ?” Bradley questions.

“Yes, at a café. I had just gotten my coffee when Jake bumped into me and, long story short, he offered me a new coffee with his number on the cup.”

“I see he still knows how to make a good first impression.” Natasha jokes. “What do you do in life ?”

“I work in a bookshop. I’m paid to be surrounded by books, I couldn’t have dreamed of anything better.”

“That’s so cool ! I should come sometime. I haven’t read a new book in a long time.” Bradley informs you and instantly, your eyes shimmers with excitement. 

“Oh ! I can give you recommendations if you want. What genre do you prefer ?”

Ensued then a conversation about your favourite topic : books. Bradley tells you some titles he likes, novels he’s been meaning to read for years and you listen to him with passion. You give him a whole list of authors and books to check out and he writes them down on his phone. Thinking you might have some other recommendations for him later, you ask him to give you his number. At the same time you’re saving his contact, Jake comes back to you and puts his arm around your shoulders.

“You’re not stealing her from me, aren’t you Bradshaw ?”

“We were talking about books, a subject you might not be familiar with.” Bradley retorts and Jake smirks.

“Oh no, she talks about it all the time. You haven’t finished getting new suggestions.” Jake says, faking desperation in his voice.

“Hey ! You’ve discovered good books thanks to me.” you defend.

“True. Anyway I’m going to play pool. You’re good here ?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Jake smiles at you before going to find his friend at the pool table. You stay with Bradley, Natasha and Bob, who just came next to you. You keep getting to know each other and you feel better, realising you don’t struggle to fit in - you’re not really the social butterfly, preferring your books more than people.

As the conversation goes on, you learn that Bradley is a good pianist and you ask to see him play. He doesn’t need to be asked twice and walk to the piano before playing Great Ball Of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis. Natasha, Bob and you sing with him and you’re quickly followed by the other people in the bar. Jake comes to you and sings by your side and sometimes he spins you around.

Once Bradley finishes the song, you laugh with your new friends, glad to realise you’re having a good time. Jake asks you if you want something else to drink and you inform him you haven’t finished your beer yet. He tells you he’s going to grab another drink, leaving you for a moment.

“Natasha wasn’t joking when she said you were an outstanding pianist ! Very good choice of song, by the way.” you compliment Bradley.

“It’s my favourite. My dad used to play it when I was a kid. I have good memories with this song and my parents.”

“I can see that. Your parents seemed to be cute together.”

When you talked earlier, Bradley quickly told you about his parents and you have to admit the way he speaks of their relationship, it looks like a story from one of your favourite books.

“They were !” Bradley confirms with nostalgia. “Maybe too much. I’d like a relationship like theirs.”

“I’m sure you will. You seem like an amazing guy. You deserve a love story as beautiful as theirs.”

“You too.”

Bradley smiles at you before talking about his pianist skills while you’re searching for Jake next to the bar. You expected to see him with a drink in hand, but it’s a vision of Jake with a woman who has her arms around his neck that you find. Your eyebrows furrowed, not knowing who this woman is and why she’s so close to your… to Jake. Jake gets rid of the woman’s arms then tells her something. He comes back to you at the same time where Bradley excuses himself to use the bathroom.

“Who was she ?” you question, not giving him the time to start a conversation.

“Who ?”

“The woman who was literally in your arms.”

“Oh, huh, I don’t know. She tried to flirt with me but I told her I was already in good company.” Jake explains with a flirty smile yet, you stay sceptical. “Y/N, I swear I don’t know her. You don’t have to worry.”

“I’m not. I’m curious, that’s all.” you lie.

Not fully convinced by your affirmation, Jake put his hands on your cheeks before leaning in and kissing you with passion. Even if you still have some doubt, Jake’s kiss helps you to calm down.

However, it’s really during the following weeks that you feel much better. Jake is being more present, casting away every doubt you have in mind. He’s managed to have some free time for you and you’ve even spent three days together, something never done before in your relationship. This time, you’re sure, everything is alright. Everything Cora told you or even everything you thought was fake. No matter what people say about Jake and his love life, you are the exception. Jake cares about you and he’s honest. Your relationship has a real future.

You’re so over the moon that you’re not as sad as usual when Jake tells you he can’t spend the evening at your place because he’s exhausted. You wish him a good rest before reading your book again. You’re in the middle of a chapter when you receive a message from your friend Laura who you haven’t seen in months. She asks you if you want to come to the bar next to her place. As you miss your friend, you accept without a second thought before getting ready. 

Once you arrive at the Scented Sky bar, you have a big smile on your face, impatient to meet Laura. Once you leave your car, your eyes find their way to a vehicle not too far away who looks like Jake’s. At first, you think it’s just a mere coincidence then you pay attention to the licence plate and recognize that it is Jake’s. Instantly, you frown. You don’t understand how he can be there when he told you he wanted to sleep, not to mention the fact this bar is far from his place. 

You keep searching for a rational explanation while you go to the bar. Before you walk through the door, you glance at the window and your eyes get teary at what you’re seeing. Jake did lie to you. He is at the bar and far from being tired as he presses his lips on a woman, the same woman at the Hard Deck he swore to you he didn’t know. The world is crumbling down your feet as you’re looking at them kissing passionately and being in each other’s arms. Tears are running down your cheeks and you can’t stop them. You want to go in and insult Jake with every bad word you know yet, the shock is so strong you turn around and go back home, trying to understand what you just saw.

When you close your door, you lean on the wall before sliding down and bursting into tears. You have your head in your hands, totally desperate and angry, not only at Jake but at yourself too. You wonder how you couldn’t see the signs. Now that you think back on it, you realise that, indeed, every element was in front of you : he keeps an emotional distance, he never uses pet names, you’re never his priority and so and so forth. You thought you found someone honest and you feel like a fool as you realise it isn’t the case. You should have listened to Cora, you should have listened to your instinct. You thought you learned your lesson, especially after your relationship with Logan, apparently you still have a long road ahead of you.

Once your sobs calm down, you stand up and throw yourself on your bed, not really taking the time to change your clothes. You stay there, laying on your back, staring at the ceiling, without understanding what’s happening. In the end, you are not the exception. As always. And you never will be. You will never have your love story, your confession of love, your happily ever after. 

Your phone notifying you of a new message interrupts your downward spiral. You take it and when you see it’s a text from Jake wishing you a goodnight, you want to answer him with a long paragraph, explaining how much you hate him. However, you don’t have the strength so you delete his number and block him on your social media. You feel lighter but still miserable. You don’t want to see him ever again.

Your wish is not granted. You’ve been able to avoid Jake only for a week. Despite all your efforts, Jake forces the hand of destiny by coming to your workplace. You see him entering the bookshop but you keep working, pretending to be too busy. You don’t even react when he’s in front of you. Your lack of reaction confuses Jake. He expected you to throw yourself in his arms and yet, he is taken aback by your silence.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s me.” he starts with a big smile, “I saw you weren’t answering my texts and I can’t reach you on social either, weirdly, so I got worried. Everything okay ? Are you ignoring me ?”

“I don’t know, did you give me a reason to ignore you ?” you question looking up to him, forcing a smile.

“Huh, no. I mean, I don’t think so.”

“Then no, I’m not ignoring you. You’re such a nice guy, I don’t see why I’d want to ignore you.” you exclaim, ironically.

“Ok, I’ve missed something. Can we talk about it ?”

“I don’t want to talk to you !”

“If you don’t want to talk to me anymore, I think I deserve at least an explanation. I mean, we’ve had something for four months.” Jake demands and this is your last straw. 

“In the back shop. Now.”

Because of your authoritative tone, Jake doesn't dare to make an inappropriate comment and follows you while you go to the backshop. Cora looks at you from afar, completely confused by the angry expression on your face - you haven’t told her anything about your discovery, feeling too ashamed.

Once you close the door behind Jake, you cross your arms on your chest and glare at him.

“So, what’s up ?” Jake casually asks.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” you start, trying so hard not to scream, “I thought you were too tired so why were you at the Scented Sky ?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t try to outwit me ! A week ago, I asked you if you wanted to come to my place to which you gave me the stupid excuse of “I’m too tired to come”. And yet, when I went to the bar, I saw you, in great form.”

At your last sentence, Jake’s eyes widen, panic visible on his face. His brain tries to find a rational explanation however before he can say it to you, you quickly add.

“And do I need to specify you weren’t alone when I saw you ? You were with the woman from the Hard Deck. You know, the same woman you didn’t know at all. And not to mention you were kissing her.”

“I have a good explanation,” he fastly says.

“Oh yeah ? Which one ?”

Jake stares at you and chooses his words carefully before speaking, as if he was in front of a wild animal. He never saw you mad before. He didn’t even think it was possible so he doesn’t know the way you could react if what he says came out wrong.

���She was flirting with me again and before I could react, she kissed me.”

“I just told you I saw and you keep taking me for a fool ?” you retort, shocked by his lie. “You were the one who pressed his lips on hers, your hands were on her hips ! How can you think I’m gonna believe what you’re telling me ? How could you do this to me ? I thought we had something !”

“I…”, he stutters before starting with a calm voice, “Look, I told you I wasn’t ready for a relationship, nothing was official between us and-”

“And I get it !” you cut him off sharply, “But It doesn’t give you the right to make me believe you care about me just for you to go see someone else. You know, if you had told me you weren’t ready for a relationship and you wanted to meet other women at the same time, I would have told you I didn’t want that and we would have called it quits ! You haven’t been honest with me when I’ve given you everything ! You’ve betrayed my trust just like the others.” you sigh, your eyes getting teary.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. I swear I had the best of intentions.”

“If that is you with the best of intentions then I don’t want to imagine how you’d act if you didn’t care about the person ; you’ve ruined everything. You’ve taken me for an idiot for months and you have no remorse about it ! All I did was defend you, repeat to everyone you were someone nice and you’ve proven to everyone you live up to your reputation and that I am the stupid and desperate woman who only sees the best in the worst guys. Tell me honestly, were you even gonna tell me one day you didn’t want anything serious with me or were you gonna let me guess it by ghosting me ?” you question and Jake doesn’t answer. “Your silence says it all. I can’t believe I could have thought you were good. But, at least, you were useful for something. I had to learn to listen to my instinct when it tells me to walk out from a relationship instead of persisting. Thanks to you, I’ve finally learned my lesson. I hate you, Jake.” you pronounce, staring him right in the eyes. “I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“Y/N, wait-”Jake tries to say.

“No ! Leave and never talk to me again.”

Jake doesn’t add anything and leaves the room without looking back. Once the door is closed, you let your tears run freely down on your cheeks. You sit down, not having enough strength in your legs when the door opens once more, letting in Cora. She doesn’t wait before taking you in her arms. She affectionately strokes your back while you’re sobbing.

“I didn’t know what I was doing. You were right, Cora.”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

“I’m so stupid.”

“He’s the stupid one here, he doesn't know what he’s lost.”

Cora’s words should be comforting and yet, it makes you feel worse. Jake might not know what he’s lost but you sure do know what you’ve lost, time, love, energy and above all, trust. You know you’ll need time to heal from it.

And indeed, you need several months before you can spend a day without thinking about Jake. Now you can finally start to move on. This relationship, though short, has left a trace in your heart, just not like you wished. Since your split-up, you’ve decided to put yourself first instead of waiting for a man to show you his love. You need to understand what you want and what you deserve in a relationship and you can only do that alone. You need to know how to exist and to love without depending on the gaze of a significant other. 

For the first time in your life, you are your own priority and you feel good as a single woman. You wouldn’t be against the idea of living your epic love story one day but you are satisfied with your current life. You’re self-sufficient and that is the most beautiful confession of love you could ever have.

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Speak Now TV Masterlist

Part two

#marie swriting in english #marie swriting with music #marie swriting with taylor swift #marie swriting with speak now tv #Spotify #top gun fandom #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun movie #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin angst #jake seresin oneshot #top gun angst #top gun one shot

[amatchinwater]

Red String / Eddie Munson x fem!Reader (soulmate AU)

Summary: At nineteen, everyone's red string that ties them to their soulmate appears on their pinkies. You find out in the middle of a Hellfire campaign that it's attached to Eddie, your childhood best friend. Nervous that he might not want you, you lie about it. Being able to see your soulmates string, Eddie confronts you later at your place.

Warnings: 18+(seriously, I will block you), explicit sexual content (fingering, oral m and f receiving, deep throating, p in v sex), unprotected sex (reader on pill, but seriously, wrap it before you tap it people), light angst with a happy ending, slight dom!Eddie, choking, what could be seen as subspace, aftercare

Words: 4033

a/n: I've been having so much fun with these ideas. Working on a part 2 for Collecting Strays! And have a song fic coming too. Send a request if you'd like to my loves 💚 (Master list)

Not my gif, credit to creator!!

You knew.

Right down to the fucking minute you turned nineteen years old, you knew. Eddie Munson was your soul mate. You watched that night during the group’s latest Hellfire campaign. They were willing to postpone it because it was your birthday, but there wasn’t anything better you could think to do spend your night doing. To be perfectly honest, the only reason you were paying so close attention was because everyone kept pestering you about it showing up. 

Dustin was all too excited about it. Saying that he’d remembered the day Steve saw his string show up. That he wanted nothing more than another one of his best friends to be one step closer to happiness. It’s almost like he’d expected you to drop everything and run blindly until you find the source of it or something. 

What you weren’t prepared for was it to show up and be quite possibly the shortest string in existence. Because from where you sat beside Eddie, your pinkies were not even two inches apart from one another. You noticed it before anyone else, seeing as they were thankfully preoccupied from a dragon guarding its keep. Your eyes widened when Eddie just so happened to move his hand to his face and you could see the string grow. 

Eddie’s twenty. He’s had to have known of his string’s existence prior to now. Which leads you to believe that he knows that it’s attached to you. And has said nothing about it. Not even a peep. That doesn’t really sit right with you. Because that translates to Eddie doesn’t want you. To be frank, why would he? 

You two practically grew up together. Your trailers are all of three lots away from one another. There’s literally pictures of you two in the bathtub together when you were still in diapers. There isn’t a single person in the room, probably not even yourself, that knows you better than he does. And you’re far from the cheerleader type that Eddie seems to be attracted to. Like Chrissy Cunningham, his latest conquest. Whereas she’s all ponytails and cheer uniforms, if you wear a skirt, much like tonight, it’s with torn fishnets and combat boots. 

So when Dustin noticed the way your eyes widened at your pinky finger, he lit up with excitement. And you lied through your teeth, saying that it headed towards the door before fading. Trying to make it seem like it couldn’t be anyone in the room at the very least. But Dustin only shook it off, saying that the same thing happened to Steve. You could feel Eddie’s eyes burning into the side of your face the whole time. 

It put you on edge for the remainder of the night. 

He only seemed more ruthless in his duty as Dungeon Master. 

Only Erica made it out alive.

You didn’t know what to think about any of it. So when it was time to leave, you all but bolted out the door and drove straight home. Barely even saying goodbye to the troup calling after you in your haste.

Sitting in silence wasn’t ever something you were really capable of doing. So you shoved your favorite Metallica tape in your cassette player and hoped to every god that it would drown your thoughts out. You’ve rewound the tape to listen to For Whom the Bell Tolls about four times already before you decide to grab a drink from the kitchen. Yanking open the fridge, the fluorescent light illuminates the string around your pinky as you grab a can of mountain dew. 

Glaring at the thread angrily, you slam the fridge closed. Popping the tab on the can, you bring the drink to your lips only to be startled by your front door being shoved open. You only barely manage to not spill it on yourself as Eddie storms into your house, not even looking at you as he stalks down the hallway. 

“What the fuck, Eds? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” You call after him, trying to yell over the music. Which he promptly turns off. “What the fuck?” You repeat, putting your drink on the counter to follow him. It’s not like he’s unwelcome in your place, but what the fuck kind of entrance was that? “What’s your deal?”

“Why’d you lie?” Eddie asks where you find him pacing around your room, biting his nail, leather jacket and vest discarded on your bean bag chair. 

You bite away the knee jerk ‘hello to you too,’ as confusion pulls your eyebrows together. You don’t recall lying to him about anything. At least not directly. “What?” 

“Henderson,” Eddie pulls his thumb out of his mouth, stopping in his tracks to look at you wildly. “Why did you lie to Henderson?” Shock stills your features and all you can do is stare at him like a deer in the headlights. “Your string,” he doesn’t point to your finger, rather wiggles his own, “you know exactly where it goes. Did you think I couldn’t see it after it appeared on your hand? Did you think I wouldn’t care? Do you not want me?” 

His words sound accusatory and you can’t for the life of you imagine why. Being with Eddie would be the best thing you could possibly ask for. You’ve been in love with the guy ever since fourth grade and he punched Jason in the face for pulling your braid. But not once in the entire time you’ve known Eddie has he ever once looked at you that way. If there weren’t pom poms involved, he wasn’t either. 

“What does it matter if you don’t want me?” 

“What?” He snaps, but his surprise is crystal clear in his bulged eyes. “I don’t want you? You? What kind of bullshit is that? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Rolling your eyes, casting them to your ceiling, you let out a huff, “no, Eds, I’m not kidding.” When you look back at him, you see his gaze is fixated on your connecting thread, moving his own back and forth as it elongates and shortens with his movements. “Pretty sure the last we all heard, you and Chrissy were fucking in the woods like rabbits, so…” you trail off, not even sure where your train of thought was going to begin with. 

Quit while you’re ahead, right?

Simply knowing that this isn’t a conversation you want to be having right now, you clamp your mouth closed. You don’t want to listen to Eddie tell you that because your string showed up that he’s going to stop whatever he has going with the head cheerleader to be with you. Or even worse, that he doesn’t care that it’s there and is going to continue to be with Chrissy regardless. Either option hurts and cracks your heart inside your chest. You won’t be someone’s second choice. You won’t. 

“I’m fucking- Chrissy and I- what the actual fuck are you talking about?” Eddie’s face contorts further with confusion, the slightest trickle of anger seeping through the cracks. “I’m not fucking Chrissy. Nor do I plan to.” He scoffs, “I’m here because you saw your thread and didn’t bother saying that it was attached to me. You’re the one who doesn’t want this.” 

“I never said-” your words are silenced by Eddie suddenly being an inch away from your face, ring clad hand pinning you to the wall by your throat. Not constricting your air, but enough of a squeeze to indicate that whatever you were planning on saying, Eddie doesn’t want to hear it. “Eds,” his name comes out a mere whimper, your body falling pliant to him, core aching with a need that’s only gotten worse in the years you’ve known him. Your fingers white knuckle the denim of his vest, silently begging for him to not back away.

Eddie halfheartedly sneers at you, “I don’t want to hear another lie, princess.” The nickname he’s always had for you sends a shiver down your spine. His free hand brushes a few strands from your forehead. “I want the truth, do you understand?” He points at you, fingers gently squeezing your throat in warning. “Is the thought of being with me really that abhorrent to you?” 

“No!”

He squeezes again, “why lie then?” 

“Because I thought you wanted Chrissy. I- I thought that there’s no way you’d want the girl you grew up with. The one who you watched get braces and taught how to drive. Every girl you’ve ever drooled after has been different versions of Little Miss Perfect. That’s not me, Eds,” tears well in your eyes, one spilling down your cheek that he stares at. “It’s not like you ever said anything about yours either.” 

Eddie scoffs lightly through his nose, wiping the cascading tear before it can reach your chin. “That’s because mine was black when it appeared,” he explains and your eyes widen. “I thought my soulmate was dead. Turns out it was just because yours hadn’t shown up yet. Can’t have a proper tether if the other half doesn’t exist yet. I saw yours wrap around your pinky and bleed color into mine, I almost choked. You can’t see anyone’s string but yours and your soulmate’s.” Eddie looks down, shaking his head, “but then you told Henderson it went out the door and I thought it could only mean that you didn’t want it to be me.” 

“Far from it, Eddie,” you whisper, one of your hands trailing up to the one still holding your throat. You grab his wrist, fingers twitching around his skin, “it was just my own way of trying to not deal with rejection. I can take anyone turning me down- not that I want anyone else,” you break off on a sigh. “I couldn’t handle the look in your eyes if you told me you wanted someone like Chrissy over me. I couldn’t. So I lied to save myself,” more tears fall from your eyes, blurring your vision as more well up. “Eddie, I’m in love with you.” 

The corner of his mouth begins to curl in a smile but he schools himself. “Prove it,” Eddie says, dropping his hand and taking a few steps back. You look at him perplexed, his emotions almost giving you whiplash, but you consider how his own emotions and your lie must have made him feel. “You can say all kinds of things, but those are just words.” Eddie crosses his arms to his chest, “so prove it.” 

Shaky legs carry you across your room to him as he squares his shoulders. Slow, tentative hands reach out, one uncrossing his arms, the other brushing along his cheekbone to cup his jaw. You take a nervous breath, wrapping an arm around his back, stepping closer. 

“You could just admit you don’t want this, princess,” Eddie says. But his voice is thick and you can see the hope glistening in those brown eyes that he doesn’t want you to stop. 

“Fuck off,” you whisper, inching closer, “I’m just nervous.” 

The stoic mask on his face cracks only just, “would you like me to help you?” Eddie’s fingers grip the waistband of your skirt tightly. 

You want to have the courage to just dive in and kiss him, but you don’t. There’s still some small part of you that’s scared that this is a trick. Some way to get back at you for lying to him. For denying him. For making Eddie think that there’s some world where you don’t want him. As if a world like that exists. You almost think you’d deserve it too. Staring into his eyes, parting your lips as you pant your breath, you nod, “please.” 

Eddie yanks your chest flush, making you gasp. The sound swallowed by his mouth colliding with yours. It’s dizzying and makes your heart palpitate beautifully in your chest. The red string on your pinky tingling warmly when his tongue slips into your mouth, deepening the kiss as your back meets the wall again. His hand finds home around your throat again, cold rings flaring goosebumps on your skin. 

Hiking your skirt up with his free hand, his fingers ghost the band on your panties and your legs spread on their own. You whine into his mouth, pussy throbbing in anticipation, arousal soaking through the material. He chuckles at your needy noises, “not yet. On your knees, princess.” You drop to the floor without a second thought, looking up with wide eyes. Eddie cups your chin, a grin curling the corner of his mouth, “you mean it, don’t you? You’re so sorry that you’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” 

“Apology or not,” you swallow thickly, “I would.” 

For the first time of the night, Eddie genuinely smiles at you, stroking your cheek. “Good girl,” his thumb drags along your bottom lip, pulling it down until you open your mouth. “Just a little more and I’ll give you what you want, okay?” His voice is deep, husky, yet so sweet in its sincerity. Like there’s a small part of Eddie that does want to punish you for your transgressions but the other part, perhaps the bigger one, that would never hurt you wants you to know that you’re everything to him. No matter what. 

An assurance in his kind eyes despite the hardened features. You cling to that. Your heart clings to that. To Eddie. Your soulmate. The one you’ve loved longer than you’ve known what love is. So you nod, keeping your eyes locked on him while he unbuckles his belt and tosses in on the floor. Without thinking, you reach out for the button of his jeans, but you freeze, arms falling back to your thighs and you drop your gaze. 

“That eager you want to do it yourself?” Eddie asks, mildly teasing, but you’re too turned on to care. 

Batting your eyelashes, you look up at him again, “can I?” 

Eddie holds his arms out, “I’m all yours, princess. Take what you want.” 

With his affirmation, you hastily unbutton his jeans, yanking the denim down to his ankles, fighting off a growl at the shoes still on his feet. Eddie chuckles cheekily at you, petting your hair as he toes out of them, kicking his pants to the side as well. Face to face with the bulge in his boxers you salivate, fingers curling in the waistband you look up again to find dilated brown eyes hungrily watching you. 

Steeling your nerves, you pull them down, eyes widening at the detailed upside down bat on his thigh. One of the few tattoos of his you’d never seen before. Dreaming of Eddie naked and seeing Eddie naked are two totally different things. His cock is beautiful. Hard and at attention, the vein and dribbles of precum having you ready to drool. Gripping at the base, you flatten your tongue out and lick up his shaft, moaning as the salty, sweet substance coats your taste buds. 

“Fuck,” Eddie hisses, running his fingers through your hair. Swirling your tongue around the angry cockhead, you take him into your mouth slowly. Savoring the taste of him, gently bobbing your head to get him slick. “Just like that, princess,” his grip tightens once you suck with fervor, taking him as deep as you can go. 

With a newfound sense of courage and his moans egging you on, you relax yourself and take him to the back of your throat. Careful of your breathing so you don’t gag. 

“Fuck!” Eddie holds you harder, keeping you in place. Your brain goes nice and fuzzy, the rest of your air escaping your nose. Unable to hold your breath any longer, you pat his thigh and he pulls you off. While you gasp for air, he crouches to meet you, “shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?” 

Your eyes are unfocused when they find his face. Drool dripping from your bottom lip, you grin, “I wasn’t done yet.” Eddie pulls back, shocked and you push him to sit on your floor, bending down to take his dick back in your mouth. Moaning, sucking with a goddamn purpose, loving the way his thighs twitch every time he hits the back of your throat again. 

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, reaching behind you to pull your skirt up to your waist, grabbing your ass. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” Eddie groans, hips bucking on their own and you moan again. “Ah, okay, fuck, princess,” he growls as you go faster, lost in the feeling of him in your mouth. “Keep going like that and I’m gonna be done embarrassingly quickly.”

“Sorry,” you rasp out, wiping the residual drool from your lips. 

“Don’t apologize,” he cups your jaw, “I’m just not done with you yet.” Eddie crashes his mouth to yours, taking nearly the last of your brain cells away with his tongue asserting dominance over yours. 

Without further ado, Eddie rushes up, pulling you along with him. Before you can even stumble to find your footing, he’s lifting you by your waist and depositing you on your bed. You watch with glassy, hooded eyes as he does the stupidly sexy back pull to get his shirt off. You nearly choke, it’s been years since you’ve seen Eddie without a shirt on. He’s stunning and your thoughts go right out the window. Leaving only lust and hunger in their wake. 

You’re not even allowed a moment to feel weird about still being fully clothed either. Your skirt being dragged off your legs, ring clad fingers running up your thighs, squeezing as they go. Kneading the flesh, flaring goosebumps and little gasped moans from your lips. In your own haste to get naked, you manage to yank your shirt off. Having already been home for a bit, your bra and fishnets have long since been discarded. 

Left in only your panties, Eddie’s eyes rake over you hungrily, “so beautiful,” he whispers. Trailing kisses and love bites up your legs, stopping when he reaches your underwear. His warm breath ghosting over the wet fabric, you slump to your back, opening your legs in offering for whatever he may be willing to do to you. One finger crooks, pulling the material aside to reveal your glistening pussy, gently toying your folds as you sigh. The finger dips inside, your walls clenching around the intrusion, begging for more. 

Eddie chuckles at you, “so needy, princess,” he coos, adding another finger. Hooking them, he hits that spongy part inside of you and you keen, eyes rolling back. Dropping his head, his hair tickles your thighs. But the giggle dies in your throat, breaking off into a loud moan, his tongue swirling around your clit. Eddie thrusts his fingers faster, every breath of yours coming out a moan or a whine for more. “You taste fucking amazing,” he groans, lapping at you until your thighs shake and your stomach tightens. 

Your orgams smacks you right in the face, your head throwing back into your pillow as you cry out for him. “E-Eddie,” you whine, trying to pull his face back, too sensitive from having just come while his tongue and fingers effortlessly work you towards another. The second is no less intense than the first and you breathe out a silent scream, fingers fisting in the sheets and his curls. 

Eddie groans against you, vibrating you straight to your core. Placing a gentle, teasing kiss to your throbbing, swollen clit, he pulls his fingers out. No chance to beg for more because he’s in your face, shoving his tongue down your throat and swallowing every needy moan you let loose. His cock rubs against your pussy, slicking you up with your own release before sinking into you fully. “Oh, princess,” he moans against your mouth, pulling back to just the tip and slamming back in, “you feel perfect.” 

A guttural moan breaks past your lips as he keeps the same pace, your nails digging into his shoulders. You try to spread your legs more for him, but with his cock inside you, the lace of your panties restricts you. Whining, you paw at them to try and get some movement to no avail. 

Something Eddie notices and he leans back, effortlessly tearing the fabric off and tossing it to the ground. You let out an indignant squeak. Those were your favorite pair. “I’ll buy you new ones, princess,” he grins at you, gripping your hips and thrusting faster. You watch in awe as Eddie lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing the pinky with your thread, making it glow. 

Your eyes roll back, his cock hitting that sweet spot with a force that slams your headboard against the wall and your legs spasm. Your orgasm ripples through before you’d even processed that it had started to swell inside you. 

“Good fucking girl,” he growls, working you through the waves before pulling out of you and flipping you over. The moment your knees settle into the mattress, Eddie’s back inside you. Gripping your hips enough to leave bruises, he pounds into you. Thrusting into you with abandon and all you can do is scream through your moans and hold on for the ride. “I’m gonna come inside you, princess,” Eddie sounds breathless, voice strained at the thought alone. 

Turning your head enough to see him over your shoulder, “please, please, Eddie,” you beg. Wanting nothing more than to feel him spill inside of you. You didn’t press about him wearing a condom and you’re on the pill, so it’s not like it matters. You want it so bad that it hurts, so you push back, meeting every powerful slam of his hips. The thought of it alone is enough to make you come again, Eddie’s cock inside you practically demands it.

“That’s my girl,” he coos, bringing his hands up to your shoulders to drive himself as deep as possible. “God, I fucking love you,” Eddie groans, hips stuttering as he comes, but he doesn’t stop. Rather lets the heat of his seed and his continued jabs at your bundle of nerves fly you over the edge of another orgasm. 

You tremble through it, your cries being silenced by your sheets while you claw at them. Eddie gently pulls out of you, laying down and pulling you half on top of him, his erratic breaths beginning to calm. You feel dazed out of your mind in the best way possible, the thought of opening your eyes sounds stupid. So you keep them closed, not caring that your light is still on or that you can feel his come leaking out of you onto your bed. You’re too busy trying to remember what it’s like to breathe properly again.

“You still with me?” He asks and you nod, humming softly at the hand lovingly stroking your back. A shiver wracks your frame. “Are you okay?” Eddie asks while you pant against his chest and he strokes your hair soothingly. “Was it too much?” 

You shake your head no, hoping it’s like that all the time. It was perfect, but words are not something your brain can properly handle forming right now. “Loved it. ‘S just cold,” you mutter, trying to cling to every inch of his warm skin touching you. 

He kisses your temple, “here, princess,” Eddie reaches off the edge of the bed, grabbing a shirt and helping you into it. Looking down, you see it’s his own Hellfire shirt he’s given you to warm up with before his arms lock around you again and pull you to his chest. Eddie wiggles you both for a moment until your blanket covers you both. “Better?” He asks, his heartbeat echoing in your ears like the softest bass drum. 

“Much,” you sigh contentedly, nuzzling into him. 

“Do you need anything?” Eddie murmurs into your hair, tracing shapeless designs on your arm. “Water? Something to eat?” You shake your head no. “Tell me if that changes,” he sighs peacefully, holding you close.

“This isn’t a dream, right?” You mumble, half awake. “You’re here? You’re actually mine?” 

Eddie squeezes you tighter, kissing your head again, “not a dream. I’m yours, princess.” 

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #Match Writes

[caaaatoad]

LOVE LANGUAGES

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Albedo, Kazuha, Xiao, Zhongli (separately) x gn!reader

Genre/format: fluff (headcannons)

Warnings: kissing, tooth-rotting fluff, physical intimacy (hand holding, hand on waist ect), bit angsty* in Zhongli’s couldn’t help myself :(

Summary: Are they fluent in the language of love?

A/N: Fellow fanfic lovers😩😩 PLSSS REQUEST SMTH I NEED MOTIVATION I will write your request in a day. ACTUALLY. I’m on summer break and I have NOTHING TO DO😭😭 // Part 2 w/ Childe, Thoma, Dainsleif, Itto, Sacra, Ayato, Gorou ??? Maybe😋😮‍💨💅

Kaeya

Physical touch.

Kaeya’s love language is physical touch. Despite the compliments and words of affirmations he gives you (and despite how very true his words are to you) - to anyone else they are nearly another part of his facade. Mere threads he’d string together in velvety tones.

Kaeya was really like velvet over ice - sultry voiced and silver tongued, he delivered his blows cold and sharp.

Somehow, you unravelled and melted down his walls the first time you brought him close after a stressful day - overwhelmed by your tender touches and how-touch starved he truly was. He honestly cried that day to you - he felt so vulnerable. Like his soul was stripped bare.

You didn’t even know the half of it as you sealed the gap between his skin and your lips, rubbing your warm hands down his back… soothing him.

Kaeya loves you, which is why he always likes a hand on the small of your back, your waist - or his favourite - in your own. The gentle squeeze he’d give occasionally spoke what his teases and flirts could not, softening his practiced smirk to a genuine smile.

more characters under the cut!

Diluc

Quality time.

Diluc is always at war with time. From running a winery in the day to being a literal, abyss-eradicating vigilante, the Dark Night Hero… the man barely gets enough hours left of the night to sleep.

When you came into his life, his love - Diluc would always fret how he would never be able to part the seas of his all-drowning schedule to spend enough time with you. He was worried you would grow bored, or worst of all - feel as if he didn’t care about you as much as he does. His thoughts were flames he could never quell behind his stoic, calm front.

As time went on, he began to realize it wasn’t the enemy at all. You in his lap, resting peacefully against his chest as you both watched the shimmering lakes surrounding the winery. He leans into to kiss the cheek he wiped grape juice off from both your snacking between harvests, then your lips - you taste sweeter than all the grapes in the vineyard.

You always make time for someone you love. He makes time for you and you make time for him. It didn’t feel like he was fighting against the clock anymore - it felt like an unspoken love language only understood by the both of you. A connection deeper than the wind and the anemo Archon.

Albedo

Quality time.

As surprising as it is coming from a man who spends most of his time working in his camp in Dragonspine, far enough from Mondstadt that the warm, calm winds grew teeth for a chilling bite in the midst of summer.

Like this place, Albedo always felt isolated from the world - like a lone, piece of chalk in a world full of colour - like the mountains of snow you’d always tread through to check up on him. Somehow, you always knew when he needed you to.

You would simply spend time with him. Pull him away from his work and studies - teasing him the way he stares at you when he *thinks you’re not looking proves he finds you far more interesting a study than his life’s work.

Managing to draw a huff from the ever-so stoic Cheif Alchemist of the Knights of Favonious - his cheeks are not the only thing you bring colour to when you spend time with him, or when he spends time with you in Mond.

You bring love as effortlessly as your strokes against the shared canvas and the colour it brings.

And as he he looks over at you - you may just be right.

Kazuha

Words of Affirmations.

Kazuha, ever the poet, sees and express his feelings of the world through flowery prose. Including the people in it.

It’s why he writes. How he expresses is how he shows love - and he likes to be loved in return.

Simple compliments. If it was modern AU good morning and goodnight texts. Congratulating you… cupping your face and rubbing his thumb over the apples of your cheeks and whispering how proud of you he is.

In his poems about you he’d write for you, they could be as fancy to comparing you to the wind. How you whisk through each fiber of his being, meeting every inch of his soul - but unlike the wind coming and going - you stayed like the taste of sea in the air, watching the shimmering water from the deck.

Usually, they would be as simple as three words. Often you tell him so - and it always affirmed him enough place in your heart to fully let someone in again.

“I love you”

Xiao

Acts of Service.

As touched starved as this little yakasha man is, Xiao feels the most loved when you do kind things for him. Protecting you, always triple-checking the areas and the surrounding lands you gather ingredients in are hillichurl-free .

All as you return the favour in whipping him up a delicious bowl of almond tofu after a long day of doing just that for the entirety of Liyue.

Xiao is no good with words. Honestly, he’s no mortal, and he believes mortals talk too much.

But everything Xiao does for you, speaks a thousand words and more. It speaks things he’s doubts any mouth could express - from taking a hit for you to carrying you inside when you wait for him to return on those cold, late nights.

They are all unspoken I love you’s.

Zhongli

Receiving gifts.

Like any other immortal being - Zhongli’s greatest enemy is time and having more of it than the people he loves.

Despite his memory, ever since becoming human the ex. Archon became more relaxed - especially his memory - no longer having the strength to hold onto each past detail like it used to.

Zhongli’s greatest fear is becoming an empty husk where time has withered everyone away - including from his memory.

So when he gives you random gifts… as much as he loves to spoil you (with mora he does not have 🤨) , his intentions is to leave a mark on your memory.

Because when you gift him anything, really - a kiss to his cheek or a warm cup of tea… you write your love in the sands of his mind and every time he worries time will crash over him like the shore, washing you away… your gift will solidify the memory.

All while your love softens his heart.

#kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines