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#but in like two weeks i will be on da road!!!
punkrott · 1 year
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getting real tired of like. nightly ‘curled up in a ball sobbing’ type breakdowns fr
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dilfl0v3rss · 11 months
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I can just see soft and sweet ony getting a demeanor change once we piss him off real baddd and putting us in our place🫣
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thank you booooo!!! i feel like these fit well so i put them togetherrrr💋💋
“cmon ma y’know i love you. please stop wit the tears” ony kept his voice soft as he watched you cry in the passenger seat of his car. “i-if you loved me..y-you’d take me to get my nails doneeee” your sentences were broken between sobs as you covered your lash adorning eyelids with your palms. hiding your face from the man next to you.
ony sighed deeply as he watched you cause a scene in the car. you literally got your nails done last week, with his money at that, but since they weren’t done how you liked you soaked them off as soon as you got home. he’s told you plenty of times that you shouldn’t have left the shop without it done properly, but you ignored him. wasting his money with tears in your eyes and now here you were crying again because he refused to let that go.
“ma you know i love you. if i didn’t i would be giving you a band right now to go get your nails and feet done, but i love you so much i’m teaching you a lesson.” you rolled your teary eyes, turning your head towards the window as well as your feet while you basically ignored his lecture. “can’t waste my money and expect me to just keep reimbursing you. ion reward that type of behavior, and this?…this little attitude you getting wit me is gon get you nowhere”
although he was right, you were just as stubborn as could be. flipping your long blonde buss down with attitude before you aggressively dug in your purse for your phone. “rewarding my behavior? pshh…ima grown ass woman” you mumbled as you scrolled through the different apps on your phone. of course ony heard you, but he decided to let you rock, continuing to drive the two of you to the ice cream shop. he was teaching you a lesson, but he wasn’t going to be an asshole about it. if there was something else you wanted he had no problem giving it to you, but as far as nails went it was an absolute no.
“ima just get my other man to get it. might suck his di-” your mumbles were cut off by ony’s inked hand around your throat. before you knew it the car was on the side of the road and he had your face close to his. you giggled as you looked at his change in attitude, not taking him serious since it’s been so long since he’s acted this way. “that’s funny huh? c’mere lemme show you what’s funny” he practically yanked you over the center console, hands gripping your ass tightly as he situated your body on top of him.
“lean over my shoulder” he grumbled deeply, eyes piercing into yours, watching the giggly attitude you just had evaporate from your body before impatiently moving you himself. he yanked your skirt over your ass, gripping and rubbing you roughly as he spoke. “you like when daddy’s mean to you? like talking about this ‘other nigga’ and getting me mad?…huh?” a hard smack was sent to your ass, making you jolt as your hand flew back to cover the burning flesh. “move your fuckin hand and answer me mama. you like actin like a spoiled brat?”
he held both of your wrists in the same hand he held your skirt up with. holding them tight to keep you from moving. your wetness was already soaking your bright pink thong as you tried to plead with your angry boyfriend. “n-no! i don’t want you mad at me daddy. i was just p-playinggg” you whimpered as you felt two more slaps get brought to your warm ass. “i don’t give a fuck what you was doing. don’t you ever say you gon call anybody when i say no, y’hear me?”
it was time to break that stupid habit once and for all. every time you didn’t get your way from ony, you thought it was cute to say some “other nigga” was going to get it done. now obviously there was no other man, but the fact that you thought it was okay to talk about doing things with someone else boiled his blood. “when i say ‘no’ then it’s final, understand?” he said in an aggressive tone. “y-yea. i hear you daddy…swear i hear you” you mumbled before abruptly being sat back into your seat, ass sore and uncomfortable rubbing against the cushion of the seats.
“glad your ears work mama. now we gon do sum about that mouth.” ony slightly pulled his sweats down, releasing his dick from its restraints before taking your hand and touching himself with it. he’s been hard since you sat your pretty ass in his car. the sight of your khaki skirt barely covering your thighs and ass making him ready to take you in the backseat, but of course you ruined that by being a brat. “come suck this dick mama”
you eagerly leaned towards his dick, giving his tip some light licks before closing your pretty lips around it. as you continued, ony began driving the two of you home, forgetting the ice cream shop as you sucked him just the way he liked. “that’s right baby. this the only dick you ever gon be sucking aight?” you moaned a “mhmm”, letting the vibrations of your voice pleasure him even more. although you were doing a great job, ony knew that you gained pleasure sucking his dick almost just as much as he did receiving it, reaching around and brushing his fingers across your panties clarified that as he looked at your essence practically drip from his hand.
“cant have you having too much fun now can i? you wont learn that way” before you knew it, his large hand was outstretched behind your head, pushing you lower so you can take him down your throat. your gagging was like music to his ears as ony released deep groans into the air. “mmshit baby. taking me deep down that pretty throat” his words only brought more wetness to your core as you gripped his thigh as tight as you could to distract yourself from the lack of air you were getting. his dick moved in and out of your mouth at a steady pace, giving you only a second to breath in and another to breath back out every time he brought your head up.
“you gon cut that shit out f’me? gon clean that act up right?” he pulled your head from his dick, groaning at the quiet pop that rang in the air as you released him. you looked beautiful. spit soaking your lips as well as your chin, hair disheveled, and eyes eagerly looking up at him as you took deep breaths of air before speaking. “i’ll fix it daddy…promise” you moaned. ony didn’t miss the small movement of your legs. thighs clenching tight together to ease the ache you gained from neglecting your poor pussy. a small smirk adorned his face. “i’ll deal wit her when we get home.” he nodded his head, glancing towards between your legs before continuing. “but right now we worried about that mouth. cmere mama” your face lit up at the thought of what was to come at home, making the wet stain in your underwear begin to grow as you let your man lead your face back towards his lap.
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sentientcave · 8 days
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Retirement Party
Chapter 5 - Wouldn't It Be Nice?
<<First Chapter - < Prev Chapter -
Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Dubcon, Plus-sized Reader/OC, female Reader/OC, John introduces Doll to some normal people, Everyone learns new things about each other, Manipulation, PTSD, Doll has a tragic backstory, Doll is kinda sorta Catholic? Who knew (me I knew)
~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above but honestly this chapter is pretty mild all considered.
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Ghost, Soap and Gaz come back a few hours later with the blue sports car (a bit scratched up, but tail-light repaired) and a pick up truck that looks a lot like the one John had before, but a generation older, and green instead of gray. John speaks to them briefly before he coaxes you into the truck and drives off, promising that the others will be gone before you get back.
He drives a few miles down the road, and pulls up in front of a little farmhouse. It looks idyllic, children and a dog playing in the yard. Two people on the porch wave, and John hops out and circles around right quick to open your door and help you down.
The couple trots up to greet you both. "Who's this?" The woman asks, looking at you and beaming. "You finally introducing us to a girlfriend?"
"Doesn't feel like the right word, does it, doll?" John winks at you, like your circumstances are all just a funny little blip, nothing nefarious or terrifying about it.
"No, it doesn't," you agree, keeping your face carefully neutral. "I'm Dalisay. Nice to meet you, um, Melissa, right?" You stick your hand out and shake hers. There’s no sense in being rude to them, just because they know John. He’s probably smart enough to keep his old life, and his boys away from his new one as much as possible.
"The very same! We were a bit worried John was going to be an eternal bachelor. Nice to see he's found someone." She introduces her husband, Rob, and her kids, Hannah, Haley and Jackson, who are ten, seven and five, respectively.
"Do you want to see the puppies?" Haley asks, grabbing your hand. Jackson grabs the other one and they pull you along to the garage, not waiting for an answer. You very deliberately don’t look over your shoulder at John, because you’re fairly sure that he’ll be looking back at you with a sickeningly hopeful expression. His comments from last night still ring in your ears, and you’re not willing to indulge that foolish fantasy of his.
The puppies are in a play pen with high enough walls to contain them, but still allow their mother to hop in and out. She hops out to inspect you, sniffing your outstretched hands warily. Her tail starts to wag after a moment, and you give her a proper pat, smiling. The dog has soft ears and a silky, black and tan coat, but you're not sure what type of dog she is.
"What's her name?" you ask, kneeling down.
"Bonnie-bell," Hannah says. "And our other dog is Charaid."
"Proper Scottish names," you say. The kids all have a slight burr, and although Melissa sounds scouse, it's the first hint as to where you are.
"Da said we was gettin' too English, livin' in London," Haley says. "I like it better here anyway. Mum says maybe we can get some coos. "
"I grew up near Aberdeen," you say. "But I've lived in Manchester too long. Lost my accent."
"No' far off, then, aye? We're only about an hour and a bit south and west," Rob says, appearing at the open garage door to supervise. His stern face looks friendlier now that he knows you're not proper English. "Was worried John dragged some poor city girl out'f England to live out here."
You hum. "Well, I am something of a city girl now. Been in Manchester since I was seventeen."
"Weel, welcome home then," Rob says with a wink. "We'll get ye proper re-acclimated soon enough." He leans over and plucks a puppy out of the sleeping pile inside the pen, and hands it to you. The pup is at the age where its somewhere between looking like a potato and a proper dog, maybe six or seven weeks old. "Gordon setter, by the by," he says. "Good dogs."
"Cute too." You settle the puppy in your lap, petting its soft little head. Bonnie-bell licks your wrist and hops back into the pen to lay down next to the others.
"Ye want one? This girl's no' spoken for yet. John's been hemmin' and hawin' about it, but I figure he wouldna want ta leave ye home alone, neither."
"Oh, I'm not sure I'll be staying that long. I'm only here because there was an incident at my apartment and John wouldn't hear of me staying anywhere else." You're not certain why you're stretching the truth to fit around what he and his wife think is happening, but you have no idea what John would do if you did say something. Maybe he would laugh it off like you were making a joke, or maybe he would snap. You don't really think he would hurt these people, but there's a wide-eyed prey animal in the back of your mind that warns you to be cautious, to be careful.
"We'll talk about it," John says from behind you. You hadn't even noticed his approach, with the noise the kids had made when they dashed back outside. "I'm trying to convince her to stay."
"Ye've gotta buy her a ring, ye daft bastard," Rob says, laughing. "A good catholic girl isna goin' ta wait for you ta get yer head out'f yer arse."
"If you don't, I'll introduce her to some lads in town that will," Melissa threatens. "Pretty girl like her has better options than you, old man. Better make your move before she realizes it." She swats John on the arm playfully.
You laugh nervously, touching the little cross around your neck absently. The puppy in your lap seems to sense your discomfort, because she starts wiggling in your arms and trying to lick your chin, little tail wagging. John kneels down beside you so he can pet the puppy too, eyes creased with a smile. "Is that it, doll? You need me to buy you a ring?"
"John," you say warningly. "We don't need to talk about this right now."
"No, I suppose you've had a rough morning. I'll try again later."
"You're impossible."
"Think you might kind of like that about me," he says.
"Not remotely. I think you're an awful, stubborn man," you tell him. Your voice comes out softer and sweeter than you intend, like you don't really mean it, even though it's true. The smile around his eyes grows deeper.
"I am." He picks up the puppy and holds her up in front of his face. "What do you think, girl?" he asks. The little dog's tail wags furiously, and she answers with a high pitched yip. And then she endears herself to you by trying to bite John’s nose. He looks stunned for a moment, but he grins when you start laughing. “Guess we’re all in agreement then,” he says, setting her down in the pen and standing up.
You accept his hand up, and quickly put a little distance between the two of you, before he anchors you to his side with a solid arm, or tries to reel you in close for a kiss. Rob and Melissa invite you in for a cup of tea, and somehow you end up sitting at a dining room table that’s obviously mostly used for crafts, and handed a piece of blank printer paper by Haley, and told by Jackson that you should draw dragons with them. The walls of the dining room are filled with tacked up juvenile masterpieces— Dragons seem to be a particular fixation of Jackson’s, whereas Hannah and Haley have more varied portfolios.
John stands leaning in the door to the kitchen, talking to Rob and Melissa quietly enough that you can’t quite pick up his words over the children’s chatter. You hate him a little for this, dangling Rob and Melissa’s idyllic little life in front of you. The implication is obvious. We could have this, his blue eyes seem to say when you look his way. Wouldn’t that be nice?
It’s frustrating, and confusing. You want to keep him at arms length for your own safety, but he’s already doing his best to roll right past your doubts and better judgment, like they’re just silly barriers between now and the future he’s dreamed up for the two of you.
And worse, you do want it.
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“Didn’t know you were an artist,” he says on the drive back. Jackson had been so excited about the dragon that you drew for him that he’d shown his parents and John.
“There’s a long list of things you don’t know about me,” you say.
"For now. We'll get there, sweetheart."
You hum, looking out the window. Spending time with the Stuarts has you wistful and homesick for something you can't get back. Days like this, you'd usually pour yourself a glass of wine, look through your family photo albums and have a good cry before going to bed early. It's been a while since it's caught up with you like this, but you'd always been reliant on your routine, burying grief in structure and familiarity. "Do we need to?"
"I'd like to."
"I'm not going to be what you want me to be."
John drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "What is it that you think I want?"
"Some little housewife. Someone soft and sweet to come home to."
"You seem plenty soft and sweet to me."
You sigh, pulling your arms around yourself. "I'm not consistent. I don't know what Johnny told you I was like, but he only knows me from work. I'm not like that all the time."
"I don't expect you to be."
"You say that now, but you'll change your mind."
"I'm not stupid enough to change my mind based on a bad day or two, doll. You're allowed to be upset. I wouldn't blame you if you spend the next week slamming doors and snapping at me. I'm still going to like you." He puts a hand on your knee and squeezes gently. Men like him shouldn't be allowed to have such attractive hands, and you shouldn't be attracted to hands like his, scarred knuckles, a few fingers broken and healed crooked. You know he's killed people, know it would be so easy for him to kill you. It turns your stomach that you feel any kind of desire for him at all.
Men like him are no different than the ones that killed your parents. Dealing death is not a noble trade, there's nothing honourable about exporting violence.
You push his hand away, and keep your eyes trained on the window.
He sighs, but he doesn't press the issue, just clicks on the radio to fill the silence.
When you get back to his house he sets you up in a cozy room down the hall from the more open main space where the kitchen is, an office of some kind with a couple of arm chairs and a desk with a clunky looking laptop set on top. The room smells kind of smoky, but you're just glad to have a door you can close while he "moves some things around". He opens the laptop up so you can watch something, but you just curl up in one of the armchairs and fall asleep.
When you wake, the door is open, one of your blankets is draped over you, and there's a mug of tea sitting on the desk, alongside a couple biscuits. You uncurl, your muscles stiff and joints cracking from not moving for too long, and pick up the tea. It's cold, like it had been left a while ago, but you drink it anyway, and eat the biscuits. There's a note underneath, explaining that John had run out to the shops, and that he'd be back by 18:00. You shake your head, and check the time on the laptop. 18:00 exactly.
Military habits must die hard. You imagine he’s usually prompt too, so you wander out into the main room, and put the clean dishes in the rack away. You realize that the living room side has been rearranged, condensed to a slightly smaller footprint, with some open space left by the far corner behind the bigger couch. The smaller leather sofa has been replaced with the little red love-seat from your apartment, and your T.V. is sitting on it’s familiar perch on the refinished credenza that you’d painted twining vines and little red flowers up the side of. You’d found it on by the curb on the Kinsey’s street a few years ago, and your friend Ripley had bused over and helped you carry it all the way back to your apartment.
You’re not sure you like seeing more of your things merging into John’s house, like any of it belongs there when you still want to insist that you’ll be leaving soon. You hate him for being presumptuous, but you can’t help but think it’s sweet, too, that he makes space for you so readily, that he’ll happily include your painted flowers and colourful blankets and bright red couch into space that was all his just twenty four hours ago. That he would leave you tea and biscuits for when you woke up, that he would tuck a blanket around you while you slept. You’re not used to someone wanting to take care of you, and it feels strange.
Strange, but nice too.
You glance at the clock on the wall, realizing that it’s twenty past six, and John still isn’t back. It’s getting darker out there, the sun nearly setting, and as much as you try to tell yourself that you’re not worried, it’s hard to deny the stab of relief when you finally see the truck's lights pull up the wooded drive.
You slip on your trainers and step outside as he parks. He grins at you around a lit cigar as he hops out. “Did you miss me, doll?” he asks, insufferably smug.
“Your note said you’d be back at six,” you say lamely. “I just wasn’t sure if you’re usually on time.”
“Usually am. Got caught talking to Wells, down on the corner. Seems someone drove right through his fence last night. Teenagers, like as not. I’m goin’ to help him fix it tomorrow.”
“Oh.” You grimace. He must know it was really you. “Sorry about that.”
“No harm. By the sounds of it, you’re quite the driver. Soap said you nearly ran him off the road. That what they teach these days?”
“Defensive driving is well and good, but offensive driving gets you the last good spot in the lot,” you say.
He laughs out loud at that, and leans over to pick up a big paper bag from the passenger side. “Here, can you take this in while I grab the groceries?”
You take the bag (which is slightly greasy and smells like curry), and shift it to one hip. “Can I take anything else?”
He nods and hands you a second paper bag, this one with two wine bottles inside. “Wasn’t sure if you liked red or white, so I got both.”
You settle the bags in your arms and turn to walk away. “Bad time to tell you I like rosé hm?” you tease, glancing over your shoulder.
“Terrible timing. But that’s alright. One more thing, doll.”
You turn back toward him, and he’s right there. One big hand cups your jaw and then his lips are on yours, pressing a kiss that tastes like smoke against you. You stand frozen, holding onto your cargo for dear life, too surprised to do anything. It’s just as well, because in that moment you’re not sure if you’d slap him or pull him closer.
He pulls away without trying to deepen the kiss, which is a relief. You’re certain that you’d drop dinner and the wine.
“John, that wasn’t fair.” Your feet are still frozen in place, and his hand is still on your cheek, his fingers threaded into your hair.
His eyes practically sparkle. He’s entirely too pleased with himself. “Not fair because I kissed you, or not fair because I stopped before we got to the best part?”
Your cheeks flame hot, and you pray that he can’t feel it. “You can’t just— You’re impossible.” It takes concentrated effort to take ordinary, measured steps to the door instead of running. The effect he has on you is apparently very obvious. He never would have tried it if he didn’t know you were teetering on the edge of giving in already.
Boundaries need to be set-- Set and followed-- before you can really even contemplate letting this get any further. Unchecked, you have no doubt that John will have you underneath him in a matter of days. Once that happens you know he'll never let you go, and you'll never have peace of mind if you don't really get to know him first. You know he's not as good as he makes himself out to be, but you suspect he's a better man than your deepest fears might whisper to you. He's genuine about his wants, but that's not enough. You need to know him before you can trust him.
You set your packages down on the table and turn to open the door wide for John as he carries a tote full of groceries into the house. “Thanks, doll.”
The paper bag rips when you open it to pull take-out containers out, setting them on the table neatly. "John, can we talk?" You ask, glancing at him as he stows things in the fridge.
"Course, doll. What's on your mind?"
Nerves threaten to choke you, so you take a steadying breath, in and out, trying to quiet the sea of dread that pitches back and forth in your stomach. “You can’t just take what you want from me. Not if you’re serious about wanting this to be something. I’m afraid of you, John, and I’m not going to fight you. If you push me, I’ll fold, and I’ll hate you for it.”
He pauses, holding a box halfway lifted to the cupboard. It takes a moment before he moves again, setting the box on the shelf slowly. The silence is palpable in the room, settling across both of you like a thick blanket of snow. You fold the ripped takeout bag flat, nervous, the crinkle of heavy paper hardly breaking through the rush of blood in your ears, the panic that grips you by the throat. It’s as though the admission has given your body the chance to catch up with everything that’s happened in the last two days.
You’d been drugged and taken from your home, you’d been handed off to someone you didn’t know, with no clear indication if you’re free to leave or not, you’ve been picked up and manhandled and shot at.
Darkness flickers in the corners of your vision. All you can hear is the pounding of your own heart, the sick, dizzying drums of war, and high pitched ringing like a flat-lining hospital monitor, and screaming, and the rapid burst of machine gun fire. No. The screaming you hear is just in your head, the gunshots aren’t real, they can’t be. It’s not happening, it’s over, it’s been over for a decade, you’re safe.
Except you’re not safe.
Hands land on your shoulders. You lash out, fists striking something solid, knocking the hands away. You have to get away, you have to hide until it goes quiet again. Arms wrap around you in a tight hug, stilling your thrashing limbs and bringing you down to the floor gently.
“Doll! Dalisay, sweetheart, you’re alright, come back.” The voice has authority. You know that voice. It rumbles, shaking loose memory. “Come on, love, breathe slow. You’re okay.” You breathe in, warm spice and tobacco smoke, not burning petrol, not scorched flesh. You’re kneeling on the floor, and John is holding you tight, thighs bracketing yours.
The fight melts out of your limbs.
You’re not safe, but you’re not in danger either. John loosens his hold on you and cups your face, his worried face eclipsing all else. “Doll, where’d you go?” he asks. “What happened?”
“Panic attack,” you lie, because that’s easier to say than My parents were killed in a terrorist attack while we were visiting London ten years ago and sometimes I get so stressed out that I forget it’s not still happening. “I’m fine, I’m sorry.”
“That wasn’t a panic attack, doll. Worked with Simon long enough to recognize PTSD. You were somewhere else.”
It’s hard to imagine that Ghost is as fallible, as human as you are, but you suppose there’s no shortage of opportunities for even the the biggest, toughest military men to to wade hip deep in trauma. The worst day of your life would be just another mission for them. The worst day of their lives would probably kill you outright.
"Yeah, I guess it was," you admit haltingly. "Everything just caught up with me. I won't let it happen again."
He shakes his head. "Did I set it off? I need to know— I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”
"No, it's not like that. It’s just stress. It's been building since I got here."
"I guess that's what you meant in the truck, huh?"
You nod weakly. "I don't think I can explain it any better right now. But maybe tomorrow."
"Alright." John sighs, some of the tension in his shoulders releasing. " I don't want you to be afraid of me, doll."
"Then you're going to have to give me time, and space. I need to know what kind of man you are. And you should get to know who I am too.” There’s a wrinkle in his shirt, so you fixate on that rather than look right at him, smoothing it out with your fingers. “Let’s worry about becoming friends, for now. And then we can see if there’s something more.”
He doesn’t like that, you can tell by the way he pulls his hands back, reluctant to let go of you. But still, he nods, and smiles ruefully after a moment. “Guess I’m not as patient as I think I am. Too eager to get to the good part.”
You laugh lightly, the sound shaky from frayed nerves. “John, if we can be kind to each other, and come to an understanding, then it’s all the good part. You can’t build the things you want on foundations like this and hold it all together with sheer force of will.”
“You sure about that?" he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "I’ve heard I’m pretty stubborn.”
Your eyes flick up to meet his. You still feel unsettled, your heart still pounding, your stomach still roiling with anxiety. The emotion in those blue eyes is something you can't identify, something fathomless that strikes you with a foreign kind of fear, the kind that's shot through with hope that you shouldn't feel.
“You don’t know me too well yet, John,” you say gently, “but so am I.”
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Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
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doctorbitchcrxft · 8 days
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Route 666 | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y, d e n i a l
Word Count: 4325
Series Rewrite Masterlist
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After your conversation with Dean about why you couldn’t lose him, a nagging want was tugging on your heart. 
Dean explained to you that the father of an “old friend” of his was killed last night. Your stomach dropped; knowing exactly what “old friend” meant. 
Sam did, too. “By old friend you mean...?”
“A friend that's not new,” came Dean’s gruff response. His eyes never left the road.
“Oh yeah, thanks,” Sam deadpanned. “So her name's Cassie, huh? You never mentioned her.”
“Didn't I? Yeah, we went out.”
You felt like you could throw up.
“You mean you dated somebody? For more than one night?” Sam commented.
“Am I speaking a language you're not getting here? Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks,” Dean explained.
Sam pressed further, but you silently begged him to stop. You hoped his mind powers would kick in long enough to read the way your heart was begging for mercy in the backseat. “And...?” 
Dean shrugged. 
“Look, it's terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which by the way, how does she know what we do?”
Dean shifted uncomfortably.
‘He told her.’ You were definitely going to throw up now.
“You told her. You told her the secret! Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times and you tell her everything? Dean!” Sam was getting angrier by the second.
“Yeah, looks like,” Dean grumbled. 
This job would undoubtedly be an incredibly painful one.
***
You saw a beautiful dark-skinned girl arguing with two older men in the newspaper office you and the boys had arrived at. You silently pleaded for it not to be Cassie. She was stunning; nothing but long legs and slender curves. Her dark hair curled tightly, framing her face beautifully. The girl sighed and turned around as the two men walked away from her. She seemed taken aback. “Dean.”
You recognized the fondness in her eyes; it was the same fondness you were beginning to look at Dean with. 
‘Of course, she’s fucking gorgeous. Wouldn’t expect anything else from Dean,’ you thought.
“Hey, Cassie,” Dean grinned. The two stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat. “This is my brother, Sam, and this is my friend, (Y/N).”
You tried your best to smile at her; the girl had done nothing wrong. It was Dean you were beginning to get upset with.
“Sorry ‘bout your dad,” Dean said.
“Yeah. Me too,” Cassie muttered.
The two kept staring at each other. 
You cleared your throat awkwardly, and Cassie seemed to snap out of it. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Let’s take this somewhere a bit more… private.”
***
Cassie took you back to her home and brought you a tray of tea and cups. “My mother’s in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about dad.”
“Why?” Dean asked.
She gracefully poured some tea into a cup. “He was scared. He was seeing things.”
“Like what?”
“He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him,” the young woman explained.
“A truck. Who was the driver?” Sam questioned.
Cassie handed cups of tea to each of you. You took one, thanking her as you did so. “He didn't talk about a driver,” she continued. “Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big.”
“Now you're sure this dent wasn't there before?”
“He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from dad's car… leading right to the edge, where he went over.” The girl took a second to get her emotions back under control. “One set of tracks. His.”
“The first was a friend of your fathers?” Dean had discarded his cup on a side table. The sight almost made you smile; you knew tea was a bit too fancy for him. 
“Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad. He 'lost control of his car.' “
“Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?”
Cassie shook her head.
“And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.
“When you say it aloud like that…” Cassie breathed deeply. “Listen, I'm a little skeptical about this… ghost stuff… or whatever it is you guys are into.”
Dean huffed. “Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts.”
‘Uh, oh,’ you thought, beginning to feel uncomfortable.
“That was then.” Cassie and Dean stared at each other again. “I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you.”
A middle-aged woman entered the room. Cassie rushed to her. “Mom. Where have you been I was so…”
Cassie’s mom forced a smile. “I had no idea you’d invited friends over.”
“Mom, this is Dean, a… friend of mine from.... college. And his brother Sam and friend, (Y/N).”
“Well, I won't interrupt you.” Cassie’s mom went to leave the room.
“Mrs Robinson. We're sorry for your loss. We'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind?” Dean stopped her.
The woman seemed slightly affronted. “I'm really not up for that right now.” She left the room, and Dean and Cassie continued to stare at each other.
***
The next day, Dean informed you of another killing that happened in a field beside the main road. Another one of Cassie’s father’s friends had been murdered. You met the beautiful woman who was bravely berating the mayor for not closing the main road; heavily suggesting there was a racist undertone behind the mayor’s motives. You admired the woman’s bravery, and wished you had those kinds of balls in certain situations. Had the circumstances been different, you probably would have been good friends with her.
You and the boys learned from a friend of the deceased that the town once was home to a family with an incredibly racist history. In fact, the big black truck the victims had described seeing was one that many black men disappeared in back in the 1960s. You and the boys walked away from the men you learned this information from and returned to the Impala.
“Truck,” Dean noted.
“Keeps coming up doesn't it?” Sam added.
“Yeah, kinda like the flying dutchman,” you continued.
“Yeah, that ghost ship, infused with the Captain's evil spirit. It was basically part of him,” the younger Winchester finished.
Dean nodded. “So what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, re-enacting past crimes.”
“The victims have all been black men,” noted Sam.
“I think it's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family,” Dean suggested.
“Alright, well, you work that angle, go talk to her,” Sam said.
“Yeah, I will.”
Sam stopped his brother before he could get down into the car. “Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing.”
‘Stop talking, Sam,’ you mentally pleaded.
“What other thing?” Dean asked.
“The serious, unfinished business?”
The older brother remained silent, and for that, you were thankful.
“Dean, what is going on between you two?” Sam huffed out a laugh.
Dean seemed uncomfortable, as were you. “Alright, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said.”
“Really?” you said, unable to help yourself.
“Okay, a lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn't have.”
“Ah, look man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime,” Sam shrugged.
“Yeah, I don't. It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended.”
The younger brother smiled. 
“Would you stop!”
Sam just kept staring and smiling.
“Blink or something!”
The brunet simply said, “You loved her.”
You nearly choked on your own spit as Dean grumbled and turned to the Impala.
“You were in love with her, but you dumped her.” Sam paused a moment before realizing, “Oh, wow. She dumped you.”
“Get in the car. Get in the car!” Dean ordered you and Sam.
You refused to continue to let Dean have that effect on you. There was no room for feelings in this profession, and you would not let them get in the way of your friendship with Dean or Sam. The former dropped you and his brother off at the motel before speeding away to Cassie’s house. You and Sam decided to get takeout and have a carpet picnic in the brothers’ motel room.
You chowed down on fried rice while Sam eyed you curiously. “What?” you asked through a mouthful of rice.
“Nothing. You just seem off,” he replied.
“I don’t know, honestly. After… everything that’s happened, I—” you couldn’t finish your sentence. “Nevermind. What’s your thoughts on this case?”
He gave you a bitchface at your change in the subject, but went along with it nonetheless. “I think our theory about the flying dutchman’s right. I’m just waiting for Dean to fill in the missing pieces.” He paused before continuing. “Speaking of which, I don’t think he’ll be back for the night? You wanna crash here?”
You smiled. “Sure. Wanna get some cheap tequila and ride the bus?” 
“You’re on,” he grinned back.
The two of you played with your deck of cards for a bit, joking and laughing about previous hunts and memories from Sam’s school days. After getting thoroughly hammered from your card game, you just talked for hours.
“My parents weren’t always… crazy supportive of me,” you explained. “I get your whole thing with college, though.” 
“You do?”
“Yeah,” you responded. “I wanted to go to school as a teenager, actually. Was dead set on it.”
He grinned. “Really?”
“Yeah, but after my parents passed, I decided I’m better at hunting,” you replied, flopping back on the ground. “You’re hella argumentative. You’d be an exceptional lawyer.”
He chuckled at you, slurring his words together. “You really think so?”
“Yeah! Duh!”
“You’re not ever this giddy, (Y/N), how much did we drink?”
The two of you looked over at the mostly empty bottle of tequila before exploding into a fit of giggles. 
“I don’t think I’ve been this drunk ever,” you slurred.
“Yeah, ne meither,” Sam said simply.
You burst out laughing again. “Ne meither?!”
“Oops,” he giggled boyishly.
“Wait, wait, wait. I have a question. You went to school with a full ride, right? How’d you get a full ride and hunt at the same time? That’s fucking crazy.”
He nodded. “Yeah. My dad took me on hunts every once in a while between AP Bio tests.”
“Holy shit, you’re smart.”
He sighed. “Not as smart as you’d think.”
“Cut the humble crap, you’re crazy smart,” you replied, turning to him. “You give me a run for my money sometimes. Trust me, that’s rare.”
He shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”
“Seriously, dude. You gotta be crazy gifted. You’re a great hunter and really smart. That’s a wild combination.”
“Yeah, well, so are you,” Sam replied. 
You grinned, barely holding your eyes open. “Thanks.” You paused a moment. “You ever smoked weed?”
He snorted. “Of course.”
You mock-gasped. “Sammy, never thought you were the type!”
“Pfft, I’m not a total prude, (Y/N).”
“Well, forgive me, you don’t exactly scream ‘I chase my tequila with mary jane,’ “ you jested.
“College, man. Whole new world.”
“What was it like?” you asked.
“Meh,” he squeaked, voice breaking drunkenly. “Lots of studying. Jess was the one who got me into partying a little.”
“Yeahhh, Jess!” you cheered. “She sounds cool as fuck.”
“She was.” He suddenly got sad and sniffed a little.
You crawled over to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring bad shit up for you.”
He sniffed again and shrugged. “‘S okay, I jus’ miss her.”
“I know.” You laid your head on his shoulder and let him cry as the two of you sat next to each other in silence.
***
The next morning and thoroughly hungover, you and Sam headed to yet another field; where this time, the mayor’s car had been found. And it was in a different location than the main road. Dean met you a short time later once you’d finished talking to a cop on the scene. 
“Where were you last night? You didn't make it back to the hotel,” Sam questioned, although the subtle smirk on his face told you he already knew the answer.
“Well…”
Sam grinned smugly. “I'm guessing you guys worked things out?”
“We'll be working things out when we're ninety. So what happened?”
“We got really drunk,” you muttered.
“What?” Dean looked down at you. 
Sam shook his head. “Every bone crushed. Internal organ's turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, it's like something ran him over.”
“Something like a truck?” Dean asked.
Sam nodded and explained there had been no tracks. He went on to say that the mayor had bought the property he was murdered on a few weeks ago; which was odd given he was white and found off the main road.
Cassie and Dean were considerably more chummy after their eventful evening, and it made your stomach turn a little. He insisted on being dropped off at the newspaper office Cassie worked at while you and Sam did research on the property the mayor had purchased at the library.
You discovered the mayor’s land was where the Dorian family had lived for over one hundred years. Apparently, their incredibly racist and firebrand son had disappeared just after the string of murders back in the 1960s. Cassie explained how the Dorians owned pretty much everything in the town before Cyrus, their son, disappeared. Weeks after the mayor bought the property, he knocked the house down. The very next day, the first killing started.
***
Amidst your throbbing headache and the research you'd done, you parted ways with the brothers to rest in your motel room. You settled on reorganizing your duffel bag to keep your mind occupied, but it still wandered to Dean and Cassie. You knew you'd been cold to Dean all day, and you just hoped he was too preoccupied with his fling to even notice.
Of course, that was simply wishful thinking. A knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts.
Dean opened the door a moment later and stepped into your room wordlessly. He began to pace a little.
"Are... you okay—?" you started to ask, but he cut you off.
"What's your deal?"
"What?" you pretended to be dumbfounded.
"I caught what you said about getting drunk with Sam last night. Did you... fuck my brother?" he asked, voice teetering on rageful.
"God, no, Winchester," you scoffed. "Not everyone's intentions are sexual 24/7. We literally just played a drinking game and talked."
"Then, what's with your fucking attitude? You've been a bitch to me all day," he replied, shoulders tense.
"Have not, first of all," you began. "Trust me, if I was upset with you, you'd know about it."
"What, then? Is this about Cassie?" he questioned pointedly, staring you down.
"Dean, has it occured to you that not everything has to do with you?" you spat, becoming incredibly defensive. "I'm pissy because I'm hungover. And right now, you are making my headache a thousand times worse."
"Sorry that I was concerned about you, then," he responded flippantly.
"You weren't concerned," you laughed coldly. "You came here looking for a fight. Well, now you've got one. I like Cassie a lot, actually. Different circumstances, we'd be good friends. What I don't like is how unprofessionally you're acting."
"We fucking hunt monsters for a living, (Y/N)," Dean argued. "There's not exactly a code of ethics."
"Well, you should have some desire to conduct yourself in a professional manner. Because your main motivation on every fucking hunt doesn't seem to be hunting, it seems to be getting your dick wet," you berated, even though you knew your words were not reflective of your true thoughts of him.
"Sorry that I'm not a stuck-up bitch like you are," Dean scoffed. "You are completely miserable to be around. You always have something to be angry about. Don't you ever get tired of sucking the life outta everyone?"
You cut your eyes at him harshly, rage boiling under your skin. "Get the fuck out of my room, Winchester," you said evenly.
When he didn't move, it just added to your anger.
"I said get the fuck out!"
***
You and the Winchesters were called to Cassie’s house later that evening when she’d called Dean in a panic about the truck appearing outside of her home. You hated the way Dean sat with his arm protectively around Cassie, especially after your incredibly awkward car ride to her house where he couldn't seem to bare looking at you. He acted like you weren't in the backseat at all.
You handed Cassie a cup of tea, which she took with shaky hands. “Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in that.”
You snorted. “You didn’t see who was driving the truck?”
“It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone. Why didn't it kill us?” Cassie questioned.
“Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first,” Dean grumbled. 
Sam turned to Cassie’s mother. “Mrs Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died.”
The older woman was shaking, pulled away from reality into her own thoughts. When her daughter’s voice brought her back to earth, Mrs. Robinson began to explain. “Oh. Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure about what he was seeing.”
“Well, after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Okay? Your daughter could die.” You knew Dean cared about her, and selfishly, you wanted him to be that worried about you; not her. “So if you know something, now would be a really good time to tell us about it.”
Cassie went to silence Dean, but Mrs. Robinson took in a shaky breath. “Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck.”
“Did he know who it belonged to?” you asked her.
“He thought he did,” she nodded. She began to get upset. “Cyrus. A man named Cyrus.”
“Cyrus Dorian?” you questioned.
“Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago.”
Now, you had her. “The paper said he went missing, Mrs. Robinson. How do you know he died?”
She refused to answer.
“Mrs. Robinson, please,” you urged.
She began to talk again, getting visibly more upset. “We were all very young. I dated Cyrus a while; I was also seeing Martin. In secret of course. Interracial couples didn't go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus, and when he found out about Martin, I don't know, he… changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening.”
“The murders,” Sam noted.
You saw tears forming at the edges of the woman’s eyes. “There were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done. Martin and a... Martin and I, we were gonna be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn't want the attention.”
“And Cyrus?” Dean prompted.
“The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died.” Mrs. Robinson clapped a hand over her mouth and shut her eyes.
“Did the attacks stop after that?” Sam asked softly.
She shook her head as she continued to sob. “No! There was one more. One night, that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him.”
“Why didn't you call the cops?” Dean questioned.
Mrs. Robinson looked at Dean like he was crazy. “This was forty years ago. He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus' body into the truck, and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land, and all three of them kept that secret all of these years.”
“And now all three are gone,” Sam said.
“And so is Mayor Todd. Now, he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?” Dean asked.
“He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus' disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he— he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”
Cassie spoke up for the first time in a while. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“I thought I was protecting them. And now there's no one left to protect.” She put her head down in her hands.
“Yes, there is,” Dean said, looking down at Cassie. Mrs. Robinson looked at her daughter as well before breaking down crying once more.
You and Sam left the home shortly after to get to work on finding the truck and disposing of it. Dean paced in front of you, waiting for Cassie to come bid you goodbye. You leaned against the Impala, picking at imaginary dirt under your nails. You just needed something to focus on that wasn’t Dean and your jealousy.
“Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms,” Sam spoke up next to you.
“So I guess we saved you from a boring existence,” Dean smirked.
“Yeah, occasionally I miss boring,” he grinned down at you.
“So, this killer truck—” Dean began before getting cut off by his brother.
“I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this killer truck'.”
Dean laughed a little. “Well, this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for forty years.”
“So what woke it up?” Sam questioned.
“The construction on his house,” you shrugged. “Or, rather, destruction.”
“Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless.”
Dean hummed. “And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus' murder quiet and unsolved.”
“So now his spirit is awakened and out for blood,” Sam nodded.
“Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway.”
“You know we're going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp, right?"
Dean grinned, and you smirked despite the swirling emotions inside you. You hated how easily those green eyes and freckles could make any negative feelings you had dissipate.
“Man,” Sam groaned.
“You said it,” Dean continued to grin. 
Cassie approached your group from her house, and Dean turned to face her.
“Hey. She's asleep. Now what?” she asked Dean.
“Well, you should stay put and look after her, and we'll be back. Don't leave the house.” Dean held up a finger at her, standing way too close to her for your liking.
“Don't go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it,” she said seductively.
Dean glanced behind himself to you and Sam. You both averted your eyes while you held back the bile rising in your throat.
“Don't leave the house, please?” Dean mumbled. Suddenly, the two were kissing. You looked up at them and leaned over to Sam.
“It’s like watching a car crash,” you whispered. “With, like, kids burning in the backseat.”
Sam laughed at you and cleared his throat. Dean simply held up a finger back to you, urging you to “wait a minute.”
“You comin' or what?” Dean awkwardly rubbed his neck after he pulled away from Cassie, and you envied her ability to make Dean blush the way she had.
The drive to the Dorian property largely consisted of Sam teasing Dean about Cassie while you said nothing. Dean used a tractor that was on the property from the construction to pull the submerged truck out of the water.
Sam continued to tease Dean about how he was definitely still in love with Cassie while you continued to focus on your work. You doused the corpse in Cyrus’s truck once you’d gotten it on the ground with kerosene and watched as it burned.
“All business tonight, huh, (Y/N)?” Dean taunted, still clearly upset with you.
“You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not particularly interested in who or what you choose to put your dick in,” you responded coldly.
“Hey!—” 
You turned to him, eyes hard. “Seriously. Let’s focus, please.”
Sam eyed you curiously while you continued to watch the corpse burn. Suddenly, the truck appeared behind you and the brothers, revving its engine.
“So burning the body had no effect on that thing?” Sam questioned, panicked.
“I guess not,” you shrugged.
“Sure it did. Now it's really pissed,” Dean snarked.
“Great! He’s fused with the fucking truck,” you huffed. “Where are you going?” Dean was retreating to his car.
“Goin' for a little ride,” he responded.
“What?!”
“Gonna lead that thing away. That busted piece of crap: you gotta burn it.”
“How the fuck are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean?” you argued.
“I don't know. Figure something out.” He threw the duffel bag in the trunk at you before getting in and taking off.
“What the f—” you watched his retreating form.
“You sure you’re okay, (Y/N/N)?” Sam asked you. “You seem pretty on edge.”
“Yeah, I’m fine, dude, let’s focus.” You thought for a moment before getting an idea. 
“Hey, you gotta give me a minute,” Sam said to his brother who had called him. “Let me get back to you.” He hung up.
You turned to Sam. “The church where Cyrus butchered those kids.”
He grinned. “Hallowed ground. That should work!” He called Cassie and had her tell him where the church had once stood.
Sam then called his panicking brother back and instructed him on exactly how far to drive to hopefully demolish the ghost. “Dean. You still there? Dean?”
He breathed a sigh of relief when his brother spoke to him again. “Dean, you're where the church was. The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids. Church ground is hallowed ground; whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they're destroyed, so we figured, maybe that would get rid of it.”
Even though he wasn’t on speaker, you could hear Dean’s panic. “Maybe? Maybe! What if you were wrong?”
Sam smirked. “Huh. Honestly that thought hadn't occurred to me.”
***
You didn't make it back to the motel until almost two in the morning. Dean was still completely ignoring your existence, and he was beginning to follow Sam into their room. You stopped him just before he could.
"Dean, wait," you called out after him, resolve breaking.
"What," he almost growled, turning back to you.
"Can we talk?" you asked, eyes pleading.
Dean didn't say anything in response for a moment, and you held your breath while you waited for him to talk. Finally, he nodded slightly.
"I'm sorry," you said earnestly. "For everything that I said earlier."
He nodded. "I am, too. You're not completely misreable to be around. Only sometimes when you get bitchy." You could see the slight smirk on his face illuminated by the moonlight.
You rolled your eyes with a small smile. "You can never take anhthing seriously, huh?"
"Hey, this is a chick-flick-moment-free zone."
"Seriously," you laughed, "I didn't mean what I said at all. You're... actually amazing. As a hunter, I mean," you quickly corrected yourself. "I know your first priority on hunts isn't sex."
Dean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Eh, you weren't one-hundred-percent wrong. Sorry about that."
You shrugged. "Makes no difference to me. Who or what you choose to fornicate with is your business. Even if it is the Magic Fingers machines at those nasty ass motels." A smile tugged on your lips.
He chuckled. "Well, anyway... goodnight, sweetheart." Dean turned on his heel and walked away from you, leaving you in the parking lot with a pounding heart and butterfly-filled stomach.
***
The next day, you and the brothers were leaving town. You and Sam waited in the car while Dean stood talking to Cassie. You, once again, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the horror show in front of you. He kissed her deeply before climbing down into the car. You had never been so thankful to leave a town in your rearview mirror.
The car had been mostly silent for the last thirty minutes before Sam broke it. “I like her.”
Dean grumbled, “Yeah,” in response.
“You meet someone like her, doesn't it makes you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?”
You watched Dean with bated breath, waiting anxiously for his answer. Instead of replying, he just took out his sunglasses and smiled. “Why don't you wake me up when it's my turn to drive?” He slouched against the window and sighed.
You shook your head and looked back out of your window, mulling over everything you’d felt during your time in Columbus. You knew feelings were not allowed in your line of work; certainly not relationships. You refused to let them interfere with your job any longer, and convinced yourself you would be perfectly content with Dean just being your friend.
After all, you'd already made it incredibly apparent that he was too much of a playboy for you. You would never be able to stomach a relationship with him because of how jealous of a person you were. And so, you decided that as long as you were with the boys, you would never, ever date Dean Winchester.
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog
quite a few tags are broken :( sorry lovebugs!!
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alovesreading · 10 months
Text
Chicken Shop Date | Part 8 |
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: 28.6k
A/N: Hey besties!! We’re back and this one’s another fun one for you! We were reminiscing about the UK tour writing this one, giving those good days a CSD twist and we hope you enjoy it loads. It was so much fun to write the shit everyone would get up to on the road, but can you believe this one was meant to be the end of this series? Mentalllllllll. Please make sure to check out the author’s note at the end of this as it’s an important one. Thanks for reading! Enjoy! xx
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | 
| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |
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~*~*~*~ 14th January ~*~*~*~
“Baby please.”
The begging has been going on for about half an hour. It’s come and gone in waves but Matty’s getting more and more desperate and more persistent.
“Please baby, please.” Matty pouts, looking pained now, “I need you.”
You raise your eyebrows at him, in yet another way of questioning him. His arms are tight around your waist, not letting you move from straddling his lap because he thinks that will be how he gets his way.
“You’re being so needy.” You smirk, shaking your head, not giving in to his pitiful pleas.
“Please, please, please.” He looks like he could start crying and it takes everything in you not to laugh. You try and push yourself up off him but he grips your hips even tighter, not letting you move an inch away.
“Matty.” You sigh, your hands resting on his shoulders as you tell him, “I can’t.”
“You can.” Matty changes tactics then and leans in and kisses his way up your neck until he’s whispering in your ear, “Please baby, I really want you to come.”
“No,” You grab a handful of his curls then and pull him back so you can look at him and say, “I can’t come on tour with you Matty.”
Your boyfriend whines, “But you said before I even asked the question that you don’t have anything planned until you go to Copenhagen in February. And you’re coming to half the fucking dates anyway. Please.”
“I will be in the way.” You shake your head.
He promises, “You won’t!”
“Matty, I would be like a spare part, not to mention your tour bus would be full to the brim if I tagged along.” You shake your head, not seeing at all how he could change your mind.
“You wouldn’t,” He frowns, silently scorning you for thinking like that before a hint of a grin comes to his face as he says, “And you’d be sleeping in my bunk, with me.”
“That's going to be so comfy,” You roll your eyes, “Two tall people in a coffin sized bunk for more than two weeks.”
“Thanks for admitting I’m tall baby, but listen.” He looks all proud of himself for his height for a second before he goes into getting his points across again, “We’re in hotels in Cardiff and back home for Manchester so it’s only like a week on the bus really.”
“The bus isn’t the issue Matty.” You sigh, giving him the honest answer, “The issue is I’ll be in the way, feeling useless.”
The bunk wouldn’t be an issue for you at all. You both practically sit on each other's lap when you’re with no other company anyway so sharing a small bed will be the least of your worries. You just know that you’ll feel useless and that you’re a hindrance to things running smoothly.
“Charli’s coming,” Matty raises his eyebrows, “You saying she’s useless?”
“She has musical value.” Your excuses fall easily from your lips, but you can’t help but smile at the way he’s begging, “Can’t you just be happy with me coming to the dates I’m already coming to. You’ll see me every five days.”
“So there's absolutely no reason you can’t see me for the other four in between.” Matty acts playfully annoyed, saying that through his teeth before he leans in to kiss you. “Besides, you really think you’re coming to the gig and then I just leave you that night? Absolutely not… I have needs.”
“You have my Instagram.” You backchat and Matty groans loudly.
There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips as he says, “Whilst I love that you put your Golden Globes dress on there for me to wank to Y/N, I’d prefer it if you were just there to wank me off instead.”
“So romantic.” You snort in laughter.
“Please, you’re obsessed with me and my boys and my music.” Matty pouts with absolutely no dignity left, “And I’m obsessed with you. Please come on tour with me?”
“You’re right, I am obsessed with you,” You smile, kissing his nose to combat the bad news you’re about to give him, “But no, I’m not coming on tour, and that’s that.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
So, Matty persuaded you to come on tour.
It ended up being as easy as him teasing an orgasm out of you, followed later by three phone calls. The first to Amelia, where he asked for proof that you were free - which you were - and then asked if he could steal her best friend away to join him on tour, and Amelia only laughed but didn’t hesitate at all to say of course.
The second call was to his manager Jamie. Where Matty asked Jamie to explicitly tell you how it was not an issue if you came along, and he even said that you could help their photographer Jordan put together a few social media posts if you really wanted something to do. But you were welcome to come along regardless and that the 1975 family would be lucky to have you.
And the third call was to the queen of pop herself, Miss Charli XCX. And it was Charli who really made you agree to joining them as she pleaded with you to tag along. She jokes how she can’t be the only groupie to come along on tour with them (Carly apparently didn’t count) and if you’re really honest, you just can’t say no to Charli at all. It feels wrong to, so after ten minutes of her and Matty giving you their best arguments, you gave in and agreed to join them.
That evening you and Matty went over to your flat where you packed a large suitcase full of everything you could need, and the next day you were on the tour bus with them heading on the rest of their UK tour. And god, you were so glad you agreed to join them.
There’s never a dull moment in that tour bus, it’s either the lads managing to make everyone laugh with their random occurrences, sharing spliffs turning into funny stories being aired for everyone to laugh at or games that end up in the same interesting way they started as.
Being around for soundcheck felt like you’d won some kind of prize. A glimpse into how it all works is so entertaining for you, not to mention them singing to an empty arena that pretty much just has you, Charli, and Carly in it is so much fun.
There have been so many times that you’ve caught yourself just staring up at them on stage and being in awe all over again. But Matty can’t help but find you so entertaining, you’re either singing loudly along at the barrier before Charli pulls you to dance with her, and he is smiling the whole way through what he usually finds boring and inconvenient.
Matty has absolutely adored having you come along on tour. Your presence alone makes him so much more joyful, and everyone who was present for the beginning of the tour has seen the difference. He feels more himself, more alive, and so much happier. And it’s all down to you.
The boring moments on the tour bus, you made them so much better for him. The hours he had to sit with his vocal steamer on, it made it so much nicer when you were lying with your head in his lap or his in yours. You’d both play with each other's hair, listen to music, and now and again chat to each other and the others. But Matty couldn’t stop grinning the whole time.
Even during the first few performances when you were somewhere lost in the crowd and he couldn’t find you, still you made your presence known to him. The first time it was just accidental though, you had written him a note as everyone was discussing the setlist and you’d slipped it into his pocket as a joke thinking he would notice and check.
Matty, however, hadn’t noticed your sleight of hand in the green room and he later found the note when he reached into his pocket half way through the Being Funny section of the set. He pulled out the crumpled up piece of paper and opened it on stage, accidentally laughing down the microphone when he read your words.
I’m trying this again: play antichrist x Pretty, please xx Picture me pouting at you, how can you say no to that? xoxox
The singer was well aware the crowd of people were confused about the note that they could see on the screens, and his laughter, but all Matty did was pocket the note again (fully intending to keep it) and grab his guitar and start playing the chords to I’m In Love With You.
The next day he caught you putting another note in his pocket but he kept quiet, wanting to read it on stage again as a little reminder of you to look forward too during his set. And it's again before he’s due to play I’m In Love With You that his hand dips into his pocket and he finds the note.
He’s smiling instantly, expecting it to be another note pleading for Antichrist, but instead this one is a little different, yet still entirely you.
I need a hug and six months of sleep x (maybe a kiss too)
When he laughs at this one, he hears George ask what's so funny through his in-ears but he elects to ignore him. Once again just picking up his guitar and singing the entirety of I’m In Love With You with a huge grin on his face.
The 3rd time it’s Cardiff night 2 and when he reads the note that night he knows you’ve done it on purpose. You’re a fucking menace who loves to tease him even when you’re not in his presence. As that night the note read:
You better think of me on that settee x
He didn’t laugh that night, no instead his dick twitched and he was reminded about your morning in the hotel and how you were both interrupted before anything could happen (you fell straight asleep as soon as you got in bed the night before) and you had been subtly teasing him all day. Whispering things in his ear, leaving longing touches on him knowing he couldn’t react how he would if the two of you were alone, and then the note.
He didn’t need you to explicitly instruct him to think of you during consumption, as he always did anyway. But this time he put a little more effort into his performance, hoping to tease you a little in the crowd.
And tease you he did. That night you watched as he teased himself on screen, smoking and letting his hands trail down his body until he squeezed himself through his trousers, and your mouth went dry with want when he simulated pulling on someone's hair. On your hair.
Needless to say that when you got back to the hotel room that night, you were on your back almost instantly, Matty’s head dipping between your thighs until you were on the verge of coming undone on his tongue. But he edged you time and time again until you were whimpering, pleading for him to fuck you like no one else could.
It was lucky you were spending another night at the hotel really because Matty doesn’t know what he would have done if you were both stuck not being able to find any relief until another two days' time when you were due in Glasgow. Thankfully he didn’t have to find out. You both alleviated the tension between you that night and again the following morning before you all returned to the bus to start the long drive up to Glasgow on their off day.
The journey wasn’t so bad, you got to have a good laugh with the band, especially loving the time you got to spend with Adam and Carly’s little boy. You got to play with him when he wasn’t down for a nap and Matty loved every second of seeing you and his nephew interact.
You remember that afternoon, Carly had just changed the baby after he woke up from his nap and she’d let you have him. One of your favourite things to do with him was sit him down on your lap and read him one of his little books he had and let him blabber on and on as he tried to copy the words you were saying. But he had started crying in the middle of you trying to get him to say ‘orange’ and you couldn’t find a reason for why he was so upset.
Uncle Matty had come to the rescue and got him from you, and it was when he picked him up that he realised he needed another change, so you went with him to change the baby’s nappy.
It was going so well, you distracting baby Hann keeping him happy and calm as Matty changed him, but Matty made the awful mistake of letting him hold the baby powder. It was once he splayed out the new nappy under him, the baby waved his arms happily at the freedom, Matty had been bathed in talcum powder.
Matty immediately froze, face and hair covered in white, his top had a few streaks of white powder sticking to it and baby Hann had managed to get some on his little chest and arm but he had giggled loudly with you when you cackled at the situation.
Blowing harshly to get rid of the talcum off his lips, Matty huffed out a soft, “I didn’t know it was open.” which amused you even more, doubling over in laughter but taking away the powder bottle from the baby’s hands so he wouldn’t continue making a mess.
Your boyfriend loved to pride himself in doing everything right so you’d taken the mishap to tease him a bit, “Uncle Matty struggling for once, who would’ve thought?”
He’d only rolled his eyes at you, and you watched out of the corner of your eye how he rubbed the powder off himself as you wiped it off the baby and finished changing his nappy.
When you’d gone back to the lounge with everyone and placed a happy again baby Hann on your lap and continued trying to get him to say the names to different fruits, you found him looking at you with adoring eyes.
But not even the sparkle in his eye would make you forget what had happened, so, letting the baby speak gibberish as he harshly pointed at the banana on the book’s page, you turned to Matty and sighed, “I wish I had taken a picture.”
His smile had fallen and he glared at you before rolling his eyes to chat back sarcastically, “I’m sure you do.”
And the rest of the day you had made a joke of ruffling his hair swearing there was some more talcum powder left. The last time you do this, he ends up telling you it’s just his grey hairs and you exaggerate a gasp, pretending like you’ve just now realised.
“Right, I forgot you’re an actual grandad.” You sucked air through your teeth like the fact was making you wince.
But then he went all cute when he flipped it around by reminding you, “And you’re a grandma so it’s meant to be, really.”
A chuckle was your response, which died quickly when he pressed his lips on yours to kiss you sweetly, half to shut you up and half because he’d been dying to for the past few minutes.
That afternoon, both of you ended up catching some alone time, which was really nice when you’re on a bus with sixteen other people. You’re in the back lounge listening to one of your many playlists, both with an AirPod in each ear and lying on the back settee with Matty behind you while you’re watching as the world goes by as you travel further north.
You’re sitting between Matty’s legs, your back against his chest and you both occasionally catch yourselves singing or humming along to the music. Matty wouldn’t change the scenario for the world, he gets to lie there with you against him, kissing the top of your head whenever he feels like, and he absentmindedly plays with the end of your hair.
The singer doesn’t even mind when one of his songs starts up, he finds it amusing that you have absolutely no shame with it being on there. And knowing now that it’s one of your new favourites he even loves hearing you softly sing along.
“Do you think that I’ve forgotten?” You quietly sing, “Do you think that I’ve forgotten? Do you think that I’ve forgotten, about you?”
Hearing that though makes Matty frown, and he waits until you sing it again as confirmation. His biggest fan in the world and now also his girlfriend, has got the lyrics wrong.
He’s trying not to laugh when he gets your attention, “Baby?”
“Yeah.” You ask, tilting your head back a little to look up at him.
He looks really pretty with the way the dimming light is hitting his face through the window. His skin is like it's glowing with the way the sun shines on him, and you find yourself thinking you’re so lucky again especially with the way he’s smiling at you.
Matty can’t help but smirk, “You know you’re getting the lyrics to that wrong, right?”
“No I’m not.” Instantly you frown up at him, entirely defensive.
“Yes,” Matty tries not to laugh, “You are.”
Your frown deepens, your whole face scrunching up as you ask, “Which bit?”
“The main bit,” He tells you, “Do you think I have forgotten… you’re singing ‘do you think that I've forgotten’.”
“They’re the lyrics.” You nod, looking at him like he’s stupid.
He can’t stop himself from chuckling, “No they’re not, baby.”
“Yeah, they are,” You nod, sitting up a little and turning to look at him properly, “I’ve been singing that since the album dropped.”
“Y/N,” Matty grins, entirely amused by you not believing him, “I wrote the song, I think I know the lyrics.”
At that you scoff, “You literally tell people that they are brave for getting lyrics tattooed because you have a tendency for changing them.”
You have a point there to be fair. So Matty just nods down to your phone and tells you to, “Listen to the song again then if you don’t believe me.”
So you do, you start About You again and when you really listen to the lyrics, the little shit might be right. But you’re not having it still, and your denial only makes this even funner to Matty.
You huff when the song ends, still frowning, “As soon as this bus stops we’re going to HMV so I can buy a CD or a vinyl or something so I can see the lyrics.”
“Baby.” Matty says knowingly, whilst grinning like a fool.
“No,” But you’re not having it, “I don’t believe it until I see it officially in the lyrics in the album.”
“Y/N,” Your boyfriend tries to remind you, “I literally wrote the song.”
“And yet I don't trust you even a little bit.” You say, getting yourself up and giving him a snarky smile before you pinch the airpod out of his ear and head back to the others in the main lounge.
On your way you can hear Matty laughing but he doesn’t say anything when he enters the room a moment later. All that he does is grin, knowing he’s right for once, and the grin stays on his face for another hour until you’re pulling him off the bus and into the bustling city centre.
You had to be quick, getting your shoes and coats on and into an anonymous enough state that you wouldn’t be recognised. Well, mostly Matty, hip putting his hood up instantly wrapping himself up in his big coat with sunglasses on as the light was starting to disappear. You did feel like an idiot when he put sunglasses on you too, but then he reminded you that you were keeping your relationship out of everyone else's business for now so he even pulled up your hood too.
You were on a mission to reach HMV before it closed and thankfully you got there with about 20 minutes to spare. It was nice walking hand in hand with Matty though, and chatting about what was going on around you and all the stuff that you liked that you saw in different shop windows.
Matty tried to suggest you go in and have a look before everything closes but you pulled him along with you until you were inside HMV and had a CD of Being Funny In A Foreign Language in your hands. Your boyfriend finds you adorable when you had a grin on your face when you picked it up, as if it wasn’t going to be on the shelf. He can’t help but smile at you.
But his smile falls from his face when you walk up to the A section and pick up a copy of AM and tell him, “I’m going to get Flo to get him to sign it for me.”
Matty just shakes his head and pulls you along to the till, wanting more time wandering around while the shops were still open. Once you handed over the CDs, thankfully Matty managed not to let you pay for them as he beat you to getting his phone on the card machine, something which you scorned him for until you were out of the shop and he shut you up with a kiss.
With the rest of the evening free, you and Matty ended up having an impromptu date. You ended up walking to the Cineworld which wasn’t a far walk and you ended up going to watch M3GAN as there weren't many other good options. This you thankfully ended up paying for, much to Matty’s dismay, but you reminded him that you said you would be paying on the next date so you got your drinks and popcorn too.
Both of you sat in the back corner where you happily remained undetected by anyone and Matty couldn’t stop smiling at the fact he got to hold your hand for the entirety of the film. Even if the film was mediocre at best, he was glad he got to chuckle away with it with you by his side.
Only when you both made it back to the bus just after 10:30, did you find that it was just Adam, Carly, and baby still on board, as everyone else had gone out drinking. They were watching a film in the back lounge so you and Matty just said a quick hello before keeping to yourselves.
There was a quick conversation about possibly going to join the others but Matty didn’t want to. He selfishly wanted you all to himself for a while longer. It's when you get your shit out of your bag that you notice the CDs that until now have remained untouched. You pull Being Funny out with a smile and turn to your boyfriend who’s already noticed what you have and is smirking at you, waiting expectantly.
You’re eager to wipe that look from his face so you sit down beside him and carefully take the CD out of the sleeve it comes in and you pick out the lyrics sheet. Finding About You is easy but then your world crumbles, you’re wrong.
Do you think I have forgotten about you?
Matty cackles when your face falls and you just silently fold the sheet back up and slip it back beside the CD with a look of defeat on your face. Your boyfriend pulls you into him and you fall into his chest as you stubbornly stay rigid in his arms.
He giggles, “I told you so.”
You push yourself out of his grasp, jokingly keeping the annoyed facade going and you push the cd into his chest as you get up, “You can sign it now for that comment, dick.”
“Aw,” Matty coos and throws the CD to the table. He jokes as he wraps his arms around you, still wanting to laugh, “Knew you were only with me to make money on Ebay.”
“Got that right.” You nod and Matty just cackles as he places kisses on your cheeks.
The following night in Glasgow when soundchecking, Matty pulled you onto the stage with him as he sang the correct version of About You, and he pulled you around the ‘house’ with him. And you pretending not to be impressed lasted about 10 seconds because you just ended up grinning and singing along the entire time.
Even more so when he had you kneel down on the floor in front of the table and he stood on it and reached down with his microphone to put it against your chin, exactly like he did to the girl in the Robbers music video. Needless to say, you got all flustered but you played your part anyway, even sticking your tongue out like the girl did in the video and Matty let his fingers dance across your tongue for a second.
When you knelt back on your ankles, so you could sing along with Polly, Matty then got down and sat on the edge of the table and he slowly leant in to kiss you. “Having fun?” He mouthed and you gently nodded until his lips took yours. It felt magical kissing him on stage, especially because you knew it all felt a little bit meta with it looking exactly like the Robbers video as he was singing the follow up to it.
That night on stage at the actual show, your note made Matty laugh, reminding him of yesterday with the talcum powder incident with his nephew.
Greys looking beautiful tonight grandad x
The Glasgow crowd was great, you loved every single second of being in that crowd. You spent a bit of your time with Jordan that night, going to different places with him and watching him take pictures from afar before you ultimately made yourself at home in the pit.
You thought that this being your 6th show, you would have somehow found it less painful to leave the pit during Give Yourself A Try, but it’s not. It still pains you each time you do it, but thankfully you can still hear it when you disappear off to head backstage with Jamie.
It ends up being an hour and a half before you end up back on the bus, and that night you were heading straight down to Manchester. Somewhere you’re really eager to go because you’d only been a handful of times and you really didn’t know the ins and outs of the city like Matty does, so when he promised you a tour you got really excited at the thought. You couldn’t wait till tomorrow to get there.
But it was that night on the bus when you needed to squeeze out of the bunk to get yourself a drink that you noticed your tote from the previous day was folded up on the table. You grab it, intending to put it in the mesh pocket of yours and Mattys bunk so you don’t lose it, but instead you feel CDs. And that’s when you remember your purchases.
You take them out, smiling when you see AM, knowing Flo will find it funny that you bought it. But it’s when you see Being Funny that you’re a little shocked and your heart doubles in size.
Never for a second did you think Matty would actually sign the CD for you, but he did sign his name in the top right hand corner with three kisses underneath it. But it’s what he’s written on the left side that has you melting.
// Be A Riot //
It’s then that you know that the man who wrote that for you is probably the most special person in your life, as even though it may seem like such a simple lyric to write, it means so much more. You fully allow yourself to give in to every little happiness he brings you from that moment on, and it starts with you going back to your bunk and plastering hundreds of kisses across his face before you settle down and whisper to each other just how obsessed you are and falling asleep in each other's arms.
~*~*~*~ 20th January ~*~*~*~
Manchester is so much fun, especially with Matty by your side. He really is the best tour guide, and he had been everywhere else you’d been, but he seems to come alive in his hometown.
He holds your hand the entire time, both of you dressed in your disguises so no one spots you wondering around the day of their gig. It made you giggle at the amount of people in 1975 tops that you passed but thankfully Matty evaded detection.
You felt like you were watching your boyfriend's Zane Lowe interview all over again because Matty took you around the same places the video showed. But it was so much fun with Matty explaining to you properly and in detail the shit that he and the boys got up to when they were younger.
First he takes you around the Northern Quarter, he shows you the square of bars that will be heaving later on that night and he shows you the spot where he wrote The City back in the day and you don’t even try and hide your smile from him.
Going to Afflecks and seeing their poster up on the wall surrounded by so many other posters of musical legends fills your heart and you can’t help yourself taking a quick picture of it to keep for yourself.
You were gutted you couldn’t take a picture with it but when you look up the stairs to the right and you catch a glimpse of a photo booth, you almost drag Matty upstairs with you so you can freely take a picture together without risking getting caught.
He’s faster than you when he pays for the pictures once you’re inside and the curtain’s drawn, and you both quickly put your hoods down and take off your sunglasses so that you don’t take pictures in your disguises.
At first you think 6 poses is going to be a job for you to come up with in less than 5 seconds in between pictures but your boyfriend makes you giggle so much that it comes natural when you mess about in front of the camera.
Matty’s cute though, cupping your jaw and giving you a sweet kiss for the last one and when you see them all printed, you melt in his arms. He steals one last kiss as you finish getting yourselves back into your disguises and you make sure to carefully put the photo strips away before you walk out of the booth.
Before you have to go back to the venue for soundcheck, he takes you to Gorilla and when you get there he tells you what he has planned for the gig they’re going to have there.
He nonchalantly says, “We’re doing all of self titled.” and you gasp loudly in response.
“What?!” Is the only thing you can say after that information has been dumped on you.
Matty chuckles in amusement, “Yeah… Thought you’d like that news.”
“Not when I have a trip to Copenhagen planned for Amelia’s Birthday!” You hide your face in your hands and take a deep breath before asking, “Deluxe version or just the regular version?”
“What happens if I say deluxe…” Matty taunts you with a smirk, but when you drop your hands and glare at him very seriously, he presses his lips together not to laugh.
“You better not.” It’s all you warn him with, even the thought of that happening makes you sick.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, dropping a kiss on your cheek and then one on the corner of your mouth and right before he can trap your lips in a sweet kiss, he whispers, “The regular version.”
You allow yourself to melt into him for a bit, but when his tongue teases your bottom lip, you pull away to make him suffer a bit for what you’re going to miss soon. Your hand comes up to his cheek and you pat it softly, “It better be.”
Going back to the venue was a bit more hectic than you expected, you had to be very careful with not getting caught by the big queue of fans lining up outside the venue for the show. But once inside, thanks to Mark and Scott being the absolute best, being around everyone again is a relief. A newfound sense of familiarity that you’re growing to cherish, therefore you’re dreading the end of tour in only 10 days.
When you walk out to watch the lads on stage and you see Charli up there with them, George guiding her into the house through the door and showing her the way around, your jaw drops.
“Are you the surprise tonight?!” You ask loudly, your hand hovering over your mouth in shock.
Charli offers you a smirk and nods, “Yes baby!”
You squeal in excitement, and watch as she quickly rehearses what her entrance will be like. She puts on a little show for you as she sings a few scattered lines of Vroom Vroom into a microphone that doesn’t play through the speakers. Of course she couldn’t soundcheck properly so that no one could hear and ruin the surprise, but she trusted that it would go smoothly when the time came for her to walk in on stage.
Carly, Charli and you are standing against the barricade fence after your pop star friend has finished her brief rehearsal and you watch the lads soundcheck with a big smile on your faces.
Their banter makes you all laugh, and you all join in taking the piss of each other here and there. When your boyfriend taps his trouser’s pocket with his brows raised, you know it’s his silent way to ask about getting a note tonight and you wink at him in response. A cute blush rises on his cheeks and his voice grows sweeter when he starts singing the chorus to Oh Caroline when he’s instructed through his in-ears.
Your note makes him giggle as he flushes from head to toe, he can feel his cheeks warm and that feeling you give him envelops him entirely. A bubble of happiness bursts inside him and it coats every inch of him, all because you said…
Obsessed with you x
He sings with a bit more intent after that. The fact that it’s Manchester they’re playing in and that he wants to impress you even more, makes for his voice to come out beautifully sultry and you’re left in awe hearing him come to life on stage.
Like you expected, Amelia was shocked to the core when you facetime her with the little bit of signal you get as Charli is about to walk on stage, and you all but scream the lyrics out along with the pop queen and the rest of the crowd.
After that the gig just kept getting better though. Your boyfriend got a Greggs sausage roll thrown at him and he was giggling as he picked it up and took a bite and then spat it out. It certainly gave everyone a laugh, the band included, and they continued their set.
When the gig finishes and you head back to the greenroom, Matty comes all sweaty to you and traps you in a hug that then turns to him wrapping an arm around your waist and using his other hand to cup your jaw and pull you in for a dizzying kiss.
“Obsessed with you too.” Matty says once he pulls back, his forehead pressed against yours and nudging your nose with his in a cute eskimo kiss.
He feels as you scrunch up your nose and you lean in for another quick kiss, humming into it as a sign of approval. You don’t think you’ll ever grow tired of hearing him say those words to you, it always manages to make you putty in his hands.
Drinking with everyone and enjoying the wave of energy after the show is so fulfilling every time. An excuse to celebrate the band’s talent and their continuous delivery on a great show. So it’s easy to let time fly by as you do: cracking jokes, laughing at the guys’ occurrences, sharing their funny views of the crowd, talking about how mental it had gotten when Charli came out.
Soon enough it’s time to leave the venue but you’re surprised when you get to the bus and your boyfriend tells you to get your stuff because you’re staying somewhere else tonight.
You were expecting a hotel room to be the destination but when you sit in the back of the Uber Matty has ordered, he tells you with a massive grin that the plan for tonight is, “We’re staying at Denise’s.”
Matty doesn’t miss the way your face lights up at the news and he feels your heating cheeks when you hide your face in the crook of his neck with a soft squeal of excitement only he hears.
It takes about half an hour to get to Denise’s house so when you walk through the front door, you find her half asleep waiting for you to get there. She greets you sweetly, this time remembering your name instead of calling you ‘chicken nugget date girl’, and only after a few minutes of small talk she excuses herself to go to bed.
Lincoln isn’t far behind her, making everyone a brew before he goes upstairs to join his wife who’s probably already asleep despite him making her a cup of tea too. Louis chats with the both of you a little more before he calls it a night too.
Your boyfriend doesn’t waste more time after his family leaves to drag you upstairs, promising he’d show you around tomorrow. He was also knackered and he had wanted to have you all to himself for ages now, so it’s very quick that you find yourself walking into his childhood bedroom and smiling at the glimpse into a younger Matty’s mind.
You look at the pictures he has on the walls, of the four boys among other friends who he went to school with or met at various parties. You spotted Flo in a few of them too and it’s so adorable to you that you get a glimpse into the people they used to be.
You were smiling and asking questions about them all, even telling Matty that a photobooth picture of him and Flo from when they clearly first got together was cute. You like that he hasn’t shut off that part of his life and the picture is still up, because after all his experiences have made him into the man who he is today.
Matty smiles at the memory of it but he just takes the photobooth picture that the two of you took today and puts it up in a free spot on his wall. That warms your heart deeply, you can’t stop grinning as the both of you then get settled.
The singer jumps on his bed, flopping down on it and you giggle watching his hair flying everywhere and eventually coming to rest almost over his eyes. Matty just lets out a long sigh, clearly loving the feeling of lying on a proper bed again and you must admit you can’t wait to join him.
Matty makes no effort to get himself undressed, other than kicking off his shoes and socks and pulling his tie even looser. Instead he watches you, not even bothering to hide how much he’s grinning as he watches you make yourself at home in his room.
His grin only gets bigger when he watches you get undressed and he mutters under his breath how fucking good you look which just makes you flush a little but you choose to mostly ignore him and instead ask for one of his tops. He points over to a drawer where he knows there will be some and he smiles watching as you pull out his Revelation Records original bold top and slip it on.
You finish changing and come to sit down on his bed, grabbing your skincare stuff and start blindly applying it to yourself. That is until Matty exaggeratedly coughs a few times clearly expectantly as he wants you to do his too like you’ve been doing every night you’ve been away.
He’s all smiles as you rub the various creams into his face, even kissing the palm of your hand and then over the tattoo on your wrist followed by a small thank you when you finish. After that though he puckers his lips at you, and you giggle as you scooch down the bed and get comfy enough to kiss him how he wants.
Your heart feels very full, being in your boyfriends childhood bedroom, kissing him goodnight after he’s put on an excellent hometown show, with only the warm light of his bedside lamp letting you see just how big his smile gets. It’s really difficult for your heart not to stretch to a certain place too early, but you love everything about this new relationship despite only being in it for such a short amount of time.
But with him kissing you so sweetly, how he always does, and him pulling you into him so you’ve got practically no space between you, it’s not a shock he always makes your heart stutter. You love getting lost kissing him, it’s certainly a favourite pastime of yours.
And you love the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair, how he clutches you tighter when you do to his curls and the groans he lets out when you pull on them.
You do just that and just like you were expecting, his mouth hangs open for a second when he lets out a groan. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, giddy from the affection and the realisation of how you’re growing to anticipate his actions.
The sound of your bubbly laugh lights up a spark inside him. The walls of the dam that contains all that he feels for you burst and it all comes pouring hot and sticky, melting his insides and flipping a switch that makes him eager to translate the mess of his emotions into something you can understand.
He presses your lips a bit harder then, hips bucking forward and pressing in between your parted legs which has you gasping. Your tongues meet and taste each other when he catches his chance to do so, fingers digging into your skin as his hold grows with intention.
Matty doesn’t want to let you go. He doesn’t think he ever will.
But he won’t get ahead of himself. He wants to make you feel good, like you do to him with just your presence, with the simple sweetness of your laughter, the warmth of your touch, your silly jokes at his expense. He could go on and on, every day adding a new thing to the list.
In your head, a very different train of thought is going on. You’re entirely too aware of where you are and who is in the same space as you, so feeling him getting increasingly eager about getting off with you, you have to be the one to cut things before they move past a point of no return.
“Matty.” You smile, knowing where this road leads and it’s not somewhere the both of you can go in his childhood bedroom.
“Mmmh.” He hums against your lips, keeping them against yours not wanting to stop kissing you at all.
You repeat yourself, “Matty,” this time hoping he takes the hint.
He reluctantly pulls away, quickly asking, “What?” as he pecks your lips a few more times.
You’re grinning as you tell him with knowing eyes, “Calm down.”
But that makes your boyfriend frown a little, “What’s wrong?”
“We’re in your Mum's house.” You remind him, almost finding it funny he forgot, “She'll hear us. Your whole family will hear us.”
“No they won’t.” Matty shakes his head, knowing he’s not been caught out before so he doesn’t expect he will now. “Relax, I wanna make you feel good baby.”
“Matty.” You try to reason with him, still not entirely sold on the idea.
The sheer embarrassment of Denise knowing you’ve shagged her son in her house a mere 20 days after first getting with him is something you don’t think you could ever live down. You’re aware she’s a legend and a lovely person so she would probably never comment on it even if she did hear you, but you don't know if you could handle the embarrassment of being looked at with knowing eyes.
“Come on, I know you can bite those pretty lips to stop yourself being loud.” Matty grins, dragging his thumb over your already puffy bottom lip. “Can you do that for me baby?”
Instinctively you nod, always wanting to be good for him, but then you realise what you’ve just agreed to, “But-”
Matty’s already chuckling at you giving in and then catching yourself. As soon as he sees that nod of yours he moves his hand from your hip to between your legs and feels that you’ve soaked through your underwear which makes his jaw lock and your ‘but’ catch in your throat and whine.
Your boyfriend starts drawing circles over your clit through your underwear and if he didn’t have the confirmation of what you want already, the buck of your hips into his hand certainly gave it to him. And Matty can’t fucking wait to have you unravel underneath him again, he’s dying to at this point.
Your boyfriend kisses you sweetly again as if he’s not already doing anything sinful, “You gonna let me make you feel good?”
You nod a little in his hold, “Yeah.” pleasure already creeping its way up your spine.
“Good girl.” He smirks before kissing you deeply once more, before pulling away and telling you to, “Relax.”
But there's only so much relaxing you can do when a man is kissing his way down your body, heading to where you want him desperately.
Your boyfriend teases you beyond belief, that sinful tongue of his licking up your already soaked underwear just to make you choke on your breath and bite your bottom lip harder before he decides he wants to play with you a little more. After pulling your underwear off, you expect him to go straight to where you’re already throbbing for him, but no.
Matty decides that now is the time to appreciate a woman’s thighs. Slowly he kisses, licks, and bites his way down your skin, building your anticipation again and again until your hips gain a mind of their own and start bucking towards him, it makes Matty chuckle at the same time you plead for him to stop teasing you.
Only after you beg him once more does he give you what you want. Matty laps at your clit like a man starved, knowing exactly how to tease you now and he smirks to himself when your thighs tremble beside his head before dipping his tongue down to drink you in again.
He notices the way you’re holding your moans to yourself, huffing as he flicks your swollen clit with a skilled tongue, your teeth digging harshly on your bottom lip to quiet your whines when he sucks on your clit.
A pop slices the struggling silence in the room when he pulls back, and you find how at the pressure of keeping quiet, his praise heightens your need by a tenfold. “So good for me baby.” His words fall sweetly from his lips, lashes fluttering as he looks up to you and you nod in agreement, hips writhing as an attempt to get him back to what he was doing.
“Think you can hold those pretty sounds as you cum on my tongue.” Your boyfriend says next, dropping a string of kisses on your inner thigh, taking the opportunity to dig his teeth on your skin as if pushing you to the edge and see how much you can take until you break your silence.
You nod frantically, your eyes closed, teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip only letting the tiniest hum of confirmation spill. And you’re sure Matty smirks again before he moves back to your core, only giving you a few seconds of teasing when his hot breath hits your core and you squirm at the feeling.
His wet and bold tongue comes to meet your dripping centre and it’s a blinding feeling of relief and tightening pleasure that just promises to drive you insane. You’re almost holding your breath so that you don’t make a noise but the faster he becomes in his movements on your clit, the more you fail. Your breath grows heavy and it starts leaving you in gasps, hands clawing at the sheets of the bed so tightly so you don’t let your whines slip past your lips.
Senses go into overdrive, all you can see is white behind your eyelids but your ears are catching so well the wet sounds of his mouth on your slick cunt. Your hips become erratic when the coil in the pit of your stomach tightens to an eye-watering degree.
All he can think of as he watches you writhe beneath him is the word mine. He watches his stunning girlfriend losing her mind at the way his tongue moves. He can't help but stare at the way his girlfriend’s chest rapidly rises and falls as he can see the way her hard nipples stand against the fabric of his top before you use your free hand to tease yourself. You’re all his and Matty forces himself to commit the moment to memory, banking it up for another inevitable lonely tour night when you won't be able to join him.
A breathy and desperate, “Matty, f-fuck,” reaches his ears and, along with your shaking legs and your white knuckle grip on the sheets, it lets him know you’re about to let go. So he hums, encouraging you to give it all to him. And the vibration of it is just what you needed for that tension to snap.
Matty can’t tear his eyes away as you cum on his tongue, your flushed chest heaving as your breaths become messy and your back arches. The taste of you mixed with the sight of you makes him grind his hips harder into his bed, needing that slight bit of stimulation himself.
You come down with a few gasps at the feeling of his tongue still teasing you, sore fingers letting go of the bedding to tug on his curls and pull him away. He looks up, a devilish grin plastered on his face showing he’s proud of what he’s achieved before he dips back down, cleaning up the mess he’s made.
The tight grasp you have on his hair doesn’t deter him, if only it encourages him and you’re left focusing on not making noise instead. You’re biting your tongue so hard just so you don’t make a loud noise but you’re struggling a lot so you just beg, “Matty, please,” as you tug on his locks once more and thankfully he listens.
You pull on his curls until he moves with you and he crawls back up your body. It’s a messy kiss you pull him into, tasting yourself on his tongue has you whining and wanting more of him.
Matty rocks himself into you a few times and the friction of it on your overstimulated clit has you gasping. He’s hard, probably enough for it to begin to be painful, so you break your kiss to ask him, “Do you want me to give you head?”
He kisses you again, his hips grinding against you again, and when you groan he kisses your neck he whispers, “I want to be inside you.”
God, you really want that too, but you know you can’t. “No.” You shake your head.
Matty chuckles, pulling up to ask with a grin of disbelief, as if he can’t feel how wet you’ve already got again through his pants. He teases, “You don’t want to shag me baby?”
He kisses down your neck, bruising his way down your skin drawing short moans out of you as you pull on his hair, wanting him to continue. But then you remember where you are, “Matty, everyone’s gonna hear.”
You only just kept quiet as he was giving you head. You’re going to be absolutely done for if he fucks you too.
“Not if you trust me.” Matty locks eyes with you as he asks, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” You nod, not trusting anyone more than him at this point.
He grins, pulling on your top a little, “Take this off for me then baby.”
You do as you're told and strip off your top as Matty sheds himself of his clothes. He dumps his tie and his shirt where he was previously lay beside you before getting up to pull his pants and underwear down.
Pressing your thighs together when you see just how hard you’ve made your boyfriend is little relief. Matty’s busy gawking at your body though, aching even more than he was without his restrictive clothing. He pumps himself twice, his breath catching as he does but he can’t stop when he looks at you lying on his bed like that.
Your boyfriend goes to move back to the bed but you shake your head, telling him, “Condom.”
“Thought we scrapped those?” He asks with a curious smile.
You tell him sternly, “I’m not having us make a mess and look at your Mum's face as we put the sheets in the wash.”
It almost makes Matty chuckle, instead he just smiles, “Okay baby.” before routing in his bag to find one.
Matty puts it on with ease before he finds his home perched back between your legs. And considering you ‘didn’t want him to fuck you’, he almost finds it comical how desperate you’re looking beneath him right now.
Your boyfriend kisses you deeply again, you can still taste yourself on his tongue and that along with the way he holds your jaw has you moaning against those sinful lips of his.
The kiss only gets messier as it goes, your hands desperately clutching onto him as he presses himself on you. The heaviness of his cock presses and rubs on your clit as his hips move, in a desperate attempt to chase your second orgasm, you move your hips in tune and it just feels too good for your mind to remember you’re supposed to be quiet.
He chuckles against your lips before he pulls away completely, his hips pulling away as well make you whine at the loss of the delicious friction. But you peel your eyes open to see what he’s doing, thinking that he’s doing this to edge you.
You watch as Matty reaches to the side and you see him grab his tie. He wraps it over the knot that's already in it a few times which makes you ask, “What are you doing?”
“Keeping you quiet.” Your boyfriend smirks, “Open.”
Your stomach drops, realising what that means, and you do as you're told. Matty sees the way your eyes get that little bit darker as he puts his tie in your mouth.
When he comes back close to you, pressing himself against you again, he watches your teeth digging into the fabric in your mouth, a moan being muffled by the tie so he smirks seeing that it works.
“Good girl.” Matty praises you, leaning in to have his face hover above yours and watch every little detail on your face as he finally goes to fill you up.
His right hand goes down to guide himself to your centre, teasing your clit by rubbing it with the tip of his cock which elicits a mewl that’s drowned by the fabric on your mouth. He’s enjoying it far too much, the visual of you gagged underneath him and almost desperate to have him inside you makes Matty impossibly hard.
Slowly he stretches you out, biting on his bottom lip as he goes further and when he feels your nails scratching his back as he bottoms out, Matty grabs your arms and pins your wrists over your head. He crosses them so he can keep them in place with his left hand but before he starts moving, he asks for confirmation that you’re not uncomfortable with what he’s just done, “This okay baby?”
Your hasty nodding is entirely amusing to him, he loves seeing you surrendered to him like this. He pulls his hips back the furthest he can without completely exiting you and in a strong swift movement, he bottoms out again.
Slow and hard, that’s the pace he sets and it has your eyes rolling back in pleasure. You had never been gagged before but you find yourself really enjoying it, the thrill of having to have your mouth stuffed with his tie not to get caught has you even more turned on. And adding your hands being pinned over your head as your boyfriend pounds into you, is enough to have you a mess of muffled moans and whines.
Just thinking of the situation has you clenching hard around him and he doesn’t let it go unnoticed, “Oh you like this?” Matty smirks, “Such a whore, aren’t you?”
He feels your thighs tighten around his hips, clearly enjoying being called a whore and it makes his smirk more prominent. His eyes are full of lust as he asks, “Just want me to ruin you, is that right?”
Nodding desperately, you need everything from him now. Your hips buck at him when he does that and you whine a little on the material keeping you quiet. Matty kisses your neck a few times then, and you can feel his smirk, clearly loving having you exactly at his mercy. And you can’t even pretend you’re not loving it either.
“Fuck baby.” Your boyfriend heavily breathes, his eyes darkening that little bit more feeling just how tight you are wrapped around him. “You look so good. Feel fucking amazing.”
He fucks into you mercilessly, quickly finding the angle that has you almost thrashing beneath him and he knows he’s found your g spot. You can’t even meet his thrusts anymore, the knot of pleasure in your lower stomach is almost too much and the blinding heat that stirs inside you has you biting hard on his tie.
Your eyes screw shut and head throws back further into the pillow as he continues whispering vulgar things about how he loves having you like this into your ear and teasing you about just how much you’re enjoying it.
“Come on baby, I can feel you’re close. Cum for me.” Matty says as he kisses just under your ear, biting your earlobe and dragging between his teeth before sucking on the part of your neck that he knows makes you weak. “Please baby, be a good girl and let go for me.”
And it doesn’t take much more than the promise of praise and his hips meeting yours over and over to have you finishing. It hits you and it’s like a blinding white heat runs up your body and takes over your senses.
Matty watches you orgasm beneath him, entirely awestruck at the way you lose yourself. It’s lucky he gagged you because you moan loudly as your high takes over and he can only manage a few more thrusts with how tightly you’re clenching around him.
It’s only seconds before he cums too, filling the condom and moaning down your ear which adds to your own orgasm tenfold. He fucks into you a few more times to drag out the pleasure running through you both before he slows and settles himself, freeing your wrists and pulling his tie from your mouth as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.
Your arms fall down over his shoulders, entirely weak just like your body feels but you let your fingers run back into his hair when he lifts himself back up looking at you like he’s drunk. You giggle a little before you kiss him and it’s the sweetest sensation after being fucked by him.
Matty grins when he pulls away, and you giggle at each other before Matty leans down and gives you a little eskimo kiss, before again admitting, “I’m obsessed with you.”
Your heart is so full, you don't even hesitate to say back, “Obsessed with you too baby.”
Matty blushes at that which makes you giggle again and you pull on his hair so he comes back for one last kiss. After that you both decide a shower is in order and as Matty disposes of the condom and goes and grabs the both of you a towel, he embarrasses you.
“We’ll have to sneak out tomorrow morning.” He tells you with a small grin on his face.
You ask curiously, “Why?”
“Because that tie did nothing, you were so loud.” Matty tells you, his smile full now.
Your jaw drops at that, thinking back over it and you frown, “No I wasn’t.”
He starts chuckling, disagreeing with you in jest, “So loud baby.”
He just wants to make you sweat a little. You were fine and he knows for certain no one will have heard anything, he just loves getting you flustered.
“I wasn’t, you cheeky sod.” You whine trying your best not to smile and fake annoyance. You pick his tie up and throw it at him as you say, “You’re not all that Healy.”
He laughs, batting the tie away with ease but he tilts his head and narrows his eyes a little, “You say that, but I just gave you two orgasms.”
“And?” You shake your head, letting him know he isn’t god's gift, “So does my vibrator.”
Matty can’t help but think touche, but he opts to tease you instead, “And that's a show I’d definitely like to watch one day.”
Instantly, your face flames and you start glitching. You stumble trying to come up with some backchat but no coherent words form and the moment for you to be slick passes, so you just end up waving for him to leave, “Go and get me a towel, you twat.”
Matty cackles as he leaves the room doing as he's told. Before the both of you know it, you’re in the shower together and even though it should be steamy and hot, it’s probably one of the cutest things either of you have done together.
You’re both giggling and then catching yourselves, mostly you shushing the both of you, as you don’t want to be found out. But despite the both of you not making it interesting in a sinful way, you end up washing the other's hair.
It started with you shampooing his hair, and when it foamed up and his hair went stiff you couldn’t help but giggle when you morphed it into a mohawk. You joke about him looking good until he threatens to cut his curls to bring his mohawk back and you decline his offer with a look that screamed that you would kill him if he did. You tell him not to touch those curls of his.
And when you carry on giggling as you mould his hair into different shapes before you let him rinse it out, Matty can’t help but get a little in his head about everything as he admires you and giggles along.
If society didn’t deem that the two of you were far too early on in your relationship, Matty would get on one knee here and now and properly propose to you because he just genuinely can’t think of anyone better for him. You’re perfect, and the fact you get on like you’ve forever been the best of friends but also have an amazing relationship is the entire package for him.
It might be far too soon, but when you know you know. And Matty has never felt this way so intensely about someone for such a long time, he’d forgotten how it felt to crumble down inside at the sight of someone he felt so much for just existing. The world feels better and brighter when you’re in his presence and you make his heart ache in a way he now knows he’d missed.
After a shower filled with cute kisses, longing touches, and lots of giggles, the both of you get out and head back to his room to dry off. Even when you put his top back on and both get cosy in bed together and you’re just chatting about where he’s going to show you tomorrow, he just holds you close, thanking his lucky stars you came into his life.
Falling asleep to the sound of the other’s voice promises smiles that stay on your faces for a bit until your slumber switches them into pouts, your arms wrapped around each other and fingers clutching tight as if there was a possibility of one of you evaporating if you dared let your hold run loose, legs tangled together and heavy breaths hitting each other’s skin.
Your heart grows in size when you’re in Matty’s arms and you know just how fast and hard you’re falling for him when your brain deems it not enough to have him present daily in front of you, by your side, for he materialises in your dreams and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Even in your sleep-driven imaginative scenes he manages to make you a mess of grins that reach your eyes, rumble of butterflies filling your stomach, tingling going to every inch of your body.
And waking up, finding him there still, with his curls a mess over the pillow and those lips you love to kiss up in a pout as he continues to breathe slowly in his sleep, makes you almost feel like you’ve somehow managed to hit the jackpot you’ve silently been praying for your whole life.
To find the one.
And you think you’ve found him. You really hope you have.
~*~*~*~
Being shown around the infamous Wilmslow by your boyfriend was one of the highlights of the whole tour for you. You had such a good time, you already can’t wait to go back for a proper stay there.
The both of you slept in a little that morning, coming downstairs to greet everyone else at 11:30 which after your late night it didn’t seem to surprise anyone. Thankfully it seems no one caught on to what happened in Matty’s childhood bedroom because nothing was said and there was no knowing glances or anything.
You all had a cooked breakfast that Denise and Lincoln made which acted as a lovely brunch, satisfying your hunger for most of your day out. After you all finished your meal and chatting, Matty decided he was showing you around for the day which you were more than happy with.
Denise throwing her suggestions in for where to take you really made you giggle, Matty sighing at a few of them as he was already going to take you there but she apparently ruined the surprise. But you loved that she told him to take you to where he used to work because that did give you a giggle.
Matty gave you the bigger tour first, opting to take the car to show you his and the boys' old high school and he told you so many stories about the shit they all got up to back in the day. You would pay so much money to be a fly on the wall back then and experience it like a film playing out to you.
He showed you his old house that he lived in before he was a teenager, and on the drive he pointed out the other boys' childhood homes, telling you Adam’s house felt like a second home to him and that his Mum, Sue, always felt like his second Mum.
Your journey ends with him taking you to Carrs park where the both of you have a nice long walk together, sharing stories and walking hand in hand as you find out more about each other. Matty tells you of the summers that he and the boys used to come down to the park all the time and on hot days they would mess about in the river.
He tells you about when Flo would come over for summers to stay with Adam in Manchester instead of staying in Sheffield, and about how she apparently always preferred her Aunt and Uncle’s home over her own. That he taught her how to skateboard at the skate park that was also in the park which he showed you and you made him promise that in the summer he would bring you back and show you his skills.
You both walk around the park for just over an hour before you head back to the car, and Matty continues with his tour. This time he parks up just off Wilmslow highstreet and you walk down with him.
He shows you The Rex cinema which if you both had more time here he would have taken you to see a film but he promises to bring you back for a date night. To make up for it, he takes you a few doors further down and buys you a few cocktails in Revs, your favourite being the Mean Girl one that comes with a post-it note pegged onto the glass that says ‘So Fetch’.
Matty ends up having a few drinks too and it���s only after you’ve both had two cocktails and 3 flavoured shots each that he realises you both drove here. Thankfully that gets quickly resolved by him phoning his brother and he promises Louis that if he comes to drive you both back, he will buy him a bottle of vodka and pay for his taxi from home to the car later.
Whilst in Revs, you spot a photobooth and after how cute the last ones were, you can’t resist doing another one. These pictures turn out to be extremely coupley, but you blame that on being tipsy and loving your boyfriend's lips on your own. The print was black and white and the camera captured your kisses, giggles, and funny faces and you download the digital version instantly so you can put the cutest one as your lock screen.
You go on your merry way after another few drinks, Matty walking you further up the highstreet to the big Sainsburys so he can get his brother's alcohol and you can’t help but giggle at the mere sight of it. Even more so now because you’re tipsy.
Matty already knows why you’re laughing, but when you ask him, “Is this the Sainsburys?” and he confirms it is the Sainsburys, you get so excited. As if him mentioning the supermarket in a song makes it a landmark you have to see.
You make him giggle though when you run off in front of him in the shop and only when he catches you up and you scorn him does he understand what you were doing. It’s when you tell him, “No, pretend you don't know me and come flirt with me.” that he can’t stop giggling.
The fact that you’ve gone hours without food meant the alcohol has gotten to you and your tipsy state is hilarious to him. The fact you want to be a girl he flirts with in a Sainsburys is all the more wholesome to him though, at least this time he knows he will have an effect on you because it’s so easy to make you putty in his hands.
He does the little roleplay you desired and he loves the way you’re grinning at him, even though the pick up line he used was utter shit, he can tell you’re all flustered. And you only get worse when he breaks the charade and whispers other explicit things in your ear of what he would like to do to and with you and you have to push him away from you, the proximity too much to bear when he gets you too embarrassed and worked up.
You can just about look at him again when you leave the supermarket and he grabs you hand as he continues to show you the last few things on his tour of his home. He walks you back down the highstreet, this time on the other side of the road to let you have a nosy at the shops, before walking straight over the road.
He takes you to his Caffe Nero where he used to work and the both of you get a coffee, in hopes to make the both of you less tipsy, before he walks you down to the Chinese he used to work at as a delivery driver. After a quick conversation, you and Matty decide you want something from there for your dinner, so he quickly phones his family to see if they want anything too.
Turns out they do, and after placing a big order with them, Louis comes and meets you to drive the both of you back to their home and you all have a big family meal. The vodka that was bought is cracked open almost immediately and the three of you end up having drinks together while Denise and Lincoln make themselves a mocktail pitcher to share as you all chat about everything and nothing.
Never have you felt so at ease in the presence of your partner's family, especially the first real time you’ve spent with any of them. Maybe it’s because they're northern, or maybe it is just because they are fantastic people but you’ve never felt so welcome in your life and you’re so thankful for them.
You even get told funny stories about when Matty was little, and your favourite anecdote about him is that when he was really little he had a lisp. You start teasing him and saying odd words mocking a lisp and your boyfriend pretends to be unamused, but it gets even funnier when you and Louis start doing it together. Denise and Lincoln cackled as Matty was getting more and more annoyed, but thankfully a kiss to the cheek appeased him when you got up to get you both another drink.
The family's kindness really makes you not want to leave, and you really will reluctantly do so tomorrow morning. Even more so when Denise hugs you so tightly before she heads up to bed and she thanks you for coming to stay and for such a lovely evening, and she makes you almost tear up when she tells you how much of a good fit she thinks you are for her son and how welcome you are to their family.
She calls you the daughter she never had and it makes you get a little lump in your throat and you just squeeze her tighter before thanking her again for being so hospitable to you. You’ve had such a good time, you drag the night out, trying to stop yourself from getting tired even when you and Matty head back upstairs to bed.
Matty knows what you’re doing and he finds it adorable but he reminds you that you’re too much of a Grandma to try and stay up late for two nights on the trot. As soon as he gets you changed into his top and your head hits his pillows, your eyes close and Matty laughs at the effort it seems to be taking you to reopen them.
So you don’t have to, Matty just sheds off his clothes down to his underwear and he gets in bed beside you after flicking the lamp off, but he practically lays on top of you wanting you to cuddle him. Even when you're falling asleep you don’t fail to root your fingers into his curls and you hum in satisfaction as you play with his hair for a few minutes, but as soon as you stop scratching his scalp, he knows you’re asleep.
But he doesn’t follow you, instead he stays up for a little while longer and he moves back just a little so his eyes can go over every inch of your face. He wills himself to learn every detail of your face by heart, almost counting the freckles scattered on your skin as if that was a piece of information he had to live by, as if he had to look for constellations in the sky that resembled them as closely as possible just so he could feel you near when he eventually goes away.
Matty doesn’t realise he’s brought his hand up to your face until you squirm under the touch of his fingers grazing your cheekbones softly. He stills at your sudden movement but his smile grows on his face when you end up humming, like you're encouraging him to continue as you fall deeper into your slumber.
Your growing warmth beneath him and the sound of your hums lull him to sleep, blissfully pressing his head on the pillow after he’s dropped a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and trying his hardest to continue looking at your gorgeous sleepy face for as long as his tired eyes allow him.
Even when his eyes manage to close and it’s too hard to peel them open again, he can see you burned into his eyelids and on the forefront of his mind is every moment he’s gotten to share with you today and these past few days of tour.
Selfishly, he wishes for them to never end. If there’s one thing he would do anything to have is you beside him all the time.
Please, he says in his head and he hopes whoever can grant him that wish is listening.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The next tour stop is Nottingham and driving down there after being in the lads’ hometown is enlightening. It seems like being in their hometown, even if it’s just for a day, fills them up with a surge of energy that had been wearing down throughout the past few months they’ve spent on the road.
So of course, the time it takes you to get there is spent between them all going about the lounge taking the piss at each other and smoking, fighting over the most mundane opinions and even over a chocolate bar they found hidden away in the shelves.
The argument of who deserves to have the chocolate has been going on for over 10 minutes, everyone proposing their reasoning and it is growing more and more ridiculous by the minute. They keep making fun of each other's excuses and loudly counter proposing something that backs themselves up.
“It’s just chocolate, break it into pieces for everyone to have some.” Adam sighs in response to the bickering that keeps growing in volume which mixed with the few hours of sleep he’s had, is threatening to cause him a headache.
“No, that’s not fun.” Ross scowls at him like he’s a buzzkill for being the voice of reason in this debate. Instead, a cruel and fun way to get people to fight over the last chocolate comes to his mind and he smirks as his gaze sweeps everyone in the room. “Who has the saddest story?”
George’s huff in annoyance is loud and it makes you think that this is definitely not the first time a play like this has come about to settle an argument. Still, you frown and ask, “What?” confused at the random prompt.
But your boyfriend answers before Ross can, “It's a game we play, we give a different condition for a story each time to see who wins what we’re short of. This time the saddest story wins the chocolate.”
Your hesitant nod seems to be the only confirmation Ross needed, as if you were the one calling the shots this time to he places the chocolate back inside the cupboard and sits back in the booth to close call out who’s staring with their anecdote.
The first to go is George who talks about how his childhood dog died and though you find it tragic, the guys just roll their eyes and ask for the next one because they’d heard it way too many times before.
The rest of the band follows along, Adam refusing to participate because he finds it pointless and Matty skipping just because he’s fine being a spectator. Polly’s anecdote makes you pout as you listen to her and you end up giving her a little hand squeeze when she’s done. And then it’s your turn.
“Y/N?” Ross raises his eyebrows at you, a challenging look as if he’s entirely sure you don’t stand a chance to win this.
But you surprise him when you straighten in your seat, roll your shoulders and sigh heavily to prepare yourself mentally, knowing you’re so taking the chocolate for yourself.
“I’m playing to win this, okay?” Is your hint of a warning of what’s to come but no one really takes it that seriously.
“Oh go on then, doubt you can beat Polly’s.” Matty taunts this time, a giggle almost weaving through his words.
You shrug, not really giving into the teasing of his words and you start your story, “Okay so this was about five years ago, I was at a party of sorts with my ex. For context I was with him for over three years, we were really happy and I loved this person right.” You almost laugh at the memory, just because of how pathetic it had made you feel for so long until you realised you were far better off.
Clearing your throat, you continue, “Then we go to this party but it's just like at his mates house and we're all there chatting outside around the fire pit and then the question gets asked, ‘where do you see yourself in twenty years’ so each of us go round answering. Everyone mentions kids, marriage, dream jobs, blah blah blah…”
You wave your hand to diminish the importance of what was said and they watch as the corners of your lips twitch in amusement, “So I go and I say everything I hope for, that I want to be happy, have my own house which I share with the person I love, as I'm holding hands with my ex.” Your eyes catch everyone looking attentively at you, waiting for you to continue, “Whatever, I carry on talking about having my own family and everyone is smiling and loving my answer but then my ex has his go.”
You take a deep breath before you go on with the worst part of your anecdote, “My ex said, ‘In twenty years I think I'm still going to be trying to find the girl of my dreams’.”
At that, you hear everyone gasping and when you let your eyes go up to see the group of people around you, you catch a few with their hands covering their mouths and a few just freely letting you see they’re jaw dropped.
What you don’t get to see is the way your boyfriend’s face has fallen completely, his heart sinking to the deepest pit of his stomach and he genuinely feels sick knowing someone had the audacity to say that. It feels like something clicks as to why you were so insecure when it came to you thinking he was ‘settling’ for you after hearing that.
But you’re not quite done yet, chuckling a bit at their reactions, you brush a strand of hair behind your ear and add, “And he didn't just leave it there. He went on to elaborate on what he was looking for. And just like all of you, all of his friends went deadly silent and were just looking at the two of us. I went entirely numb for a minute, but in that time I somehow managed to say, ‘hope you find her’ in the most monotone voice and got up and left.”
A few beats of silence pass, everyone too astounded to even find out what was correct to say in such a situation.
Until Ross breaks it with a simple, “That’s fucking brutal.” which makes you snort out in laughter.
“I know. Can I have that chocolate now?” You extend your hand out for him to give you the prize, you know no one will dare to disagree that your story was the saddest.
And he nods, “Absolutely, fucking hell.”
You watch as the bassist gets the chocolate from the cupboard and gives it to you, and after thanking him softly, you notice the way everyone is still silent, so you turn to them and call them out for it, “Okay, everyone lighten up, it’s been a while since then.”
Thankfully the mood lightens after you win their game, things move on when people get various phone calls and you start concentrating on your phones and what’s on the TV again. Your past doesn’t plague your mind in the slightest as you’ve already buried that away with a nice little bow of trauma securing it away, and you have no intention of letting it get you upset any longer than it did a few years back. It was most definitely his loss anyway and you’re doing miles better for yourself these days.
You move on quite quickly, forgetting about it minutes after everyone went back to normal and you were more sidetracked with baby Hann and the chats you were having with Carly. But Matty couldn’t get it out of his head.
He found that his heart still felt like it had been beaten to a pulp for you. It hurt him a lot hearing how someone who you let yourself be vulnerable with and who you opened your heart to, said something so awful and completely disregarded your relationship like it was nothing.
God knows if someone said that to him it would never not plague his thoughts or have a permanent sinking feeling in his chest. He can’t help but think just how strong you are to have got through something like that and to be as happy and bubbly as you are now.
Since meeting you and getting to know you properly, Matty has always found himself incredibly lucky to easily make you smile or laugh that he can’t imagine ever saying anything so horrible to you. It makes him want to cherish you even more, to protect you from anyone who could be so cruel and hold you closer and tighter than ever.
Which is what he ended up doing. He didn’t bring it up until you were alone that night in the back lounge of the bus just after the last few others had disappeared off to bed.
You’d not long since had a call with Amelia and your manager that started off as business related and as soon as your manager bid you goodbye, you had a good catch up with your best friend. You’ve probably not gone this long without seeing her for a while and you were both getting withdrawal symptoms so you definitely enjoyed your chat with her.
You were equally excited to get back to the fun conversations that always filled the bus, but you weren’t surprised that it was only George and Matty that were coherently talking when you went back to socialise. Turns out you’d been chatting to your best friend for the best part of 3 hours and it was nearing 11pm and with it being an off day everyone was lazy and heading to bed early which you don’t blame them for.
This tour and your boyfriend have really fucked with your sleeping pattern, a month ago you would be tired at this time but now you rarely get tired until 2am. But it meant more time being in Matty’s presence and cuddling up to him awake in his bunk where you talk about anything that comes to mind until you eventually drift off so you don’t mind in the slightest.
Even now after George has just headed off to bed, you just find yourself relaxing in your boyfriends hold that little bit more as you pay attention to the BBC Three show that’s playing silently on the TV. Or that is until your boyfriend gets your attention again.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Matty whispers in your ear, a kiss being pressed on your cheek right after and his fingers clutching your waist tightly like you could be taken away from him if he wasn’t cautious.
You let your head rest on his shoulder so you can look up at him and in slight confusion, you ask him, “What?”
“With your ex. I’m sorry he did that. It was awful to hear and that’s not a par on what it must’ve felt like.” His fingers rub circles on your waist, under your shirt so his touch is warm and soothing on your skin.
Turning in his hold, your arms go around his shoulder and your fingers play with the short curls at the nape of his neck as you shake your head, “Oh no, it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay at all.” His eyes are wide, there’s no way he’ll ever come to terms with the fact that you had to go through something like that.
You sigh a bit heavily, because you know he’s right but it’s been so long since then and it has led you to where you are now so you have no complaints. Your nails scratch softly at his scalp, “I know, but I’m glad with the way everything has worked out.”
Softly, like he’s scared it will set something off that you won’t like, Matty asks, “Was he the guy who you last went out with?”
You nod, “He was the last guy, yeah. I met a girl a year after and we were together about eight months but she kept getting jealous of the dates I was going on and the flirting yet she also wanted me to take her to the dates with me so she could meet the celebs and it all just ended in a big argument so I just decided I was done.” His face is screwed up in a frown that lets you know how he finds that, and you give him a side smile as if agreeing on how bad that was.
“Everyone after her has been one night things which were hit and miss but I’d convinced myself I was better off alone anyway.” It’s easy for you to be honest about this all with him, so you continue, “No one was gonna get it and I’d sort of come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going to find anything again.” and it’s even easier to let him know how it all changed, “Until you.”
You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist as he breathlessly asks, “Me?”
And a giggle escapes you when you reassure that’s exactly what you meant, “Yeah, you.”
“What changed?” One of his hands comes up to lift your chin up slightly, fingertips slowly dragging down your jaw and the softness of his touch makes you lean into it.
“Well for a start I was never going to turn down another date with you.” Your lips purse as you try not to smile embarrassedly at your admission, “But then you came round to mine and you were the sweetest. You hugged me when I got upset at your album, you came round and surprised me and bought me a Christmas present.”
Your heart swells in your chest as you remember, your eyes stay on his and you find yourself wanting to forever be under his gaze because it just has goosebumps erupting on your skin, heat rising up to your cheeks and a tingling hitting every corner of your being, “You make me nervous, and I’ve not felt nervous talking to someone in the longest time, I missed that.”
There’s a need to clear up your words when you realise it could come across wrongly, “But I wasn’t nervous because you’re the lead singer of my favourite band. I was nervous because of you.” His delicate smile reaches his eyes, those crinkles you’ve grown to love showing just how happy your words are making him and he continues his delicate tracing of your features as you add, “The things you do when you talk to me, when you smile at me or smirk at me. You make me the best kind of nervous.”
His thumb teasingly runs across your bottom lip, your breath hitches in your throat and you hold it there until his finger runs down to press on your chin softly, “I still make you nervous?”
“All the time.” It comes out in a whisper but it’s wholehearted because it’s the actual truth, “I love it when you’re not actively trying to make me flustered.” That’s a bit of a white lie, because you do love it when he teases you even though he makes it so hard for you not to be embarrassed by it in public.
Matty pouts slightly, “But seeing you flustered is how I know it’s all working.”
He makes himself sound so innocent like that, you roll your eyes in fake annoyance, “Yeah, yeah. You just love watching me squirm, I know.”
And then that smirk you love breaks on his face and it all comes together when he chats back, “Love watching you do more than squirm.”
It makes you so incredibly giddy, he can definitely feel the heat growing on your face at his words, “Yeah I sure know you do, you little shit.” You narrow your eyes, an attempt to appear menacing.
He snickers at your effort, offering you an eye roll and a sassy, “Oh but you love it.” as a response.
“I do.” You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as you agree. There’s no need to keep anything to yourself anymore, you think, and how liberating is it that you can just cup his face and pull him in for a sweet kiss to show him just how much you adore him.
Your tongue teases his bottom lip and he lets your tongues meet without a second of doubt, he hums when he tastes you and you hum back to let him know how much you enjoy this. It is so easy letting time pass when your lips are moving with each other, your fingers clutching each other tightly and oxygen be damned for your one priority is showing what you feel through your kiss.
You pull back panting when you can no longer kiss without feeling like you’re gonna pass out from lack of oxygen in your lungs and he takes the opportunity to bring back what started it all, “I’m sorry he made you feel like you weren’t enough.”
“Thank you for making me feel like I am.” Your head tilts as you say, doe eyes almost sparkling at him like a love sick puppy for him.
You swear it was impossible to feel stronger for him until he nudges your nose with his and your lips brush together as he says, “You’re more than enough, baby. I’m the luckiest to have you.”
All you can do is press your lips against his but before you can deepen the kiss, you’re pulling back enough to look at him deep in the eyes and let him know once again, “Obsessed with you.”
Matty experiences something new every minute he spends with you, he swears, because it’s so incredible the way his heart easily swells in his chest with everything you do and say. It’s so easy for him to reciprocate, almost painful to keep it in that he’s, “Obsessed with you too.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
The Nottingham show was nothing short of incredible. As per usual the boys gave their absolute best and delivered a gig that you know for a fact people wouldn’t forget (you know the feeling far too well of wanting to go back in time to experience their shows over and over again throughout the years) and Matty’s interactions with the audience made you laugh as per usual. Especially when he gave them four songs to choose from and even after Paris lost to Menswear, he decided to still play Paris after it.
Your note being, I certainly like you better when you take off your clothes ;) x that night assured that he went absolutely unhinged for you on stage during Too Shy. You found yourself sweating at his intent hip movements as his eyes swam through the crowd in search of you, winking your way when he found you and you had to hide behind your hands all flustered while the girls around you squealed, entirely unaware of your presence and thinking it was meant for them.
Leeds comes next and you have the best time too, especially when he opens your note and cackles loudly when he reads, Drive Like I Do, when? instead of a cute note like he had been expecting.
He surprises you when Robbers comes on and he sings the climax of the song in the style of the Drive Like I Do version of the song. You scream so loud at that, joining the crowd's cheers and when the next song starts, you’re left feeling all gooey inside at the fact that the littlest things you can mention will end up in him trying to appease your wishes.
Newcastle is entirely shocking to you. You were excited to be there, especially since Matty mentioned Tim would be attending and you’d finally be able to meet him, but you’re absolutely not ready for the surprise you got once you got to the venue.
It had been slightly hectic, since people were swarming the place so you had to sneak into the venue almost being shielded by George and Ross’ big frames as you hid in a massive hoodie and some glasses to try and keep your identity hidden.
You find yourself shaking in anticipation as you’re walking between George and Ross on your way to the greenroom, trying to have a pep talk in your mind so that you calm yourself down about the prospect of meeting your boyfriend’s Dad.
Of course the lads caught onto your shaking hands that you were wiping on top of your hoodie, Ross teased you for being nervous but George assured you it’d be alright. So you settle a bit, slowly coming to terms with it and preparing yourself to offer Tim a smile as soon as you step through the door of the greenroom.
But when you get there and see that Lewis fucking Capaldi is there, you can’t help but let out a squeal of excitement. The Scottish legend who in a few months you know you already have a date booked in with, makes you so excited. You run to hug him hello and he’s equally excited to see you there.
Tim makes you cackle when he says, “I’ll be offended if I don’t get hugged just as enthusiastically.” behind you and you let go of Lewis to greet the comedic legend. You’re glad your reaction to Lewis’ presence served as an ice breaker because then the conversation with Matty’s Dad flows easily and you find yourself laughing at the fact that you were so nervous about meeting him when he’s an absolute sweetheart.
Spending the day in Lewis’ company is as funny as you could’ve imagined and the filming of him taking the piss out of what Matty does on stage makes you cackle laughing. Thankfully with the other singer distracting your boyfriend, you could easily sneak your note into his pocket today, and you felt quite proud of that one.
That night you stay back behind the stage to watch the show (the crew gave you some in-ears so you could still hear everything the way that you would if you were in the main bit of the arena). Tonight your note was Obsessed with you and everything but Newcastle aren’t winning the cup baby xoxoxo and when the camera shows Matty snorting at it and shaking his head, pocketting it again before grabbing his acoustic guitar, it made you giggle and when Lewis asked you about it and you told him, he started laughing too.
This had all come about because like George had been roped into supporting Newcastle United by his best friend, you had been dragged in to support Manchester United because that’s Amelia’s football team. Yesterday was the first leg of Newcastle's semi-final in the Carabao Cup which you all watched and you were happy for Matty that they won 1-0, but tonight was Manchester United’s first semi-final match and you had a good feeling your team was going to win. Regardless though, you did think that you would end up playing your boyfriend’s team in the final, and you can’t let him get too comfortable so you kept teasing him yesterday saying regardless of if they win, Manchester United will beat Newcastle.
The show moved on quickly, and it wasn’t a surprise that you started tearing up when Tim goes on stage to sing All I Need To Hear and you’re glad you’re right next to Lewis because he makes you laugh when he makes a joke about how the band would be more successful if Tim replaced Matty.
When it’s time for Lewis to go on stage, you’re left alone until your boyfriend surprises you with his presence after he quickly got changed and the rest of the band tagged along so you all could watch Lewis together.
Of course you lot piss yourselves laughing when people go absolutely mad when the text Special guest: Harry Styles comes on the screen and then it only grows louder once the door opens, but to their disappointment it’s not the Watermelon singing man.
Lewis makes it funnier when he waves at everyone, laughter can be heard from the crowd and it grows louder when he walks up to the mic and says, “My name is Harry Styles and it’s good to be here. I know what you’re thinking; ‘He looks different. He sounds different’.” And with one last adjusting of his guitar strap, he adds, “But make no mistake I am Harry Styles.”
But your amusement dies in your throat in a split second when he starts strumming on his guitar and he starts a song you have been dying to hear for far too long.
If anyone told you a few months ago that you’d be hearing Antichrist be performed live at a The 1975 concert for the first time by Lewis Capaldi, you would’ve thought it to be the most far-fetched joke anyone could come up with. But here you were, already crying at Lewis singing the first line to a song you’ve waited so long to hear in concert.
Matty doesn’t realise how bad your state is until Lewis sings, “Is it the same for you?” and you shake with the sob that rips through you. The visuals on the big screens were making him laugh and he assumed your soft shaking was just a product of your laughter, the sound being drowned by the loudness of the crowd singing along. He’s entirely taken aback by your reaction and in instinct he wraps his arms around you from behind you.
He hears you tearfully but softly singing the next verse but you fully let your broken voice rumble with the crowd for the third verse.
The buildup to the bridge starts and they lads take a few seconds of silence to clock onto your state and giggle. They didn’t expect you to have such a reaction to Lewis singing the song, and Ross is a cheeky bitch so he points it out.
“This is exactly why we’re never doing this song.” If you’re crying this hard then the bassist wouldn’t want to imagine how badly the people in the crowd were looking.
You don’t even allow yourself to form a proper answer and instead you let the song dramatically reply to him. You point your finger at him and George who is right beside him and belt out the bridge almost entirely enraged at what he’s just had the cheek to say.
But that doesn’t appear menacing to them, George and Ross laugh and you can feel Matty’s chest shaking with laughter behind you. Even Adam was giggling away at your emotion and it was only making you sob harder as you sang. You don’t even have the mind to think about how embarrassing this might be when you look back because you’re completely overcome by emotion.
They’re not done taking the piss out of you when the song is over, and you’re left shaking your head at their jokes whilst you wipe the tears off your face, Matty’s lips pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder but you feel his breath hit your skin whenever he laughs at any of the guys’ quips.
Lewis announcing, “I was going to sing one of my songs next, but I thought it would just be better to play a Taylor Swift song.” has you gasping way too loud, interrupting another joke Ross was about to make at your expense but your reaction to the Scots’ introduction of the second song is enough to earn you a round of cackles.
George is louder this time and his giggles are so contagious you find yourself laughing with them, that is until Lewis starts singing the Taylor song you’ve loved so much since you were a teenager and the waterworks start again.
It is all such a mix of emotions, you can’t help the tears streaming down your face. It’s the song being played right after Antichrist, it’s the feeling of Matty’s arms wrapped tightly around you and how he sings it softly to you in your ear. You’re purposely keeping your volume to a decent point so you can hear your boyfriend singing it to you.
If he wasn’t holding you, you would’ve melted and died on the spot. Your legs feel wobbly from the crazy storm of butterflies fluttering inside your stomach and there’s a burning heat that runs through your veins that melts your insides.
“You alright baby?” Matty asks you softly when the song is over, brows furrowed as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
You nod softly, just letting your tears run down your cheeks until they stop but he’s on the task in a matter of seconds. He stands before you, hands cupping your jaw and thumbs swiping at the tears staining your skin.
Through his in-ears he hears they gotta go back on stage in a minute but before he rushes back with the lads, Matty showers your face with pecks. When he reaches your lips though, he can’t help himself and locks your lips in a sweet kiss, one that lasts longer than needed because George is yelling at him they need to go and so is the crew member talking in his in-ears again.
You pull back and push him softly so he can go, and just because you’re feeling better and in a jokey mood now, you give his arse a slap before he’s gone from your side. He looks back at you with a smirk, right as he gets to the door and winks at you. You’re left smiling like an idiot, waiting for the show to continue.
Lewis teases you throughout the rest of the show, at first for crying at what he did but then when Matty did something like wink into the camera or thrust at the audience. The Scot was a big tease and whilst you pretended to hate him for it, you had such a fun evening singing along to the boys with him.
Unfortunately, with there being a show the following day in Liverpool and Lewis heading back out on tour, you couldn’t go out and have a few drinks together that night. But you all bid him goodbye, you give him a hug and tell him that you and Amelia will be seeing him soon.
It felt bittersweet saying goodbye to Tim, but he told you that you had to come back up to Newcastle with Matty as soon as you were free to and he would happily show you around the city properly. Before you even know it, you’re back on the road.
You passed out pretty much as soon as you got on the bus and Matty found you in the bunk fast asleep about 5 minutes after you said you were heading to bed. Just before he climbed in to join you, he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips hoping not to wake you and he was grateful he didn’t disturb you when he cuddled himself into you and slowly fell asleep himself.
Waking up outside the arena in Liverpool was an interesting ordeal. There wasn’t a gated section where the buses could go here so when you and Matty woke up and were hoping to head out for a walk, it was a little difficult because there were fans outside.
So a little plan was devised to combat this, and it was orchestrated and quite literally carried out by George. The drummer suggested that you wrap up in a hoodie and have the hood up and that he would carry you out and into the venue, and people would automatically assume you were Charli and that you were asleep.
The queen of pop had gone back home to London after the Manchester show, along with Carly too but no one but those of you on the tour knew that. So George carrying a girl into the arena seemed like a perfect way to get you in unseen and keep your relationship underwraps.
There was an alternative, that Ross carry you inside in the same way, but as soon as you made a joke of that's a good way of socialising with him more, Matty chipped in quickly and cut that idea off. So it was Matty’s jealousy that decided that you would be carried the 10 metres into the venue by George.
And thankfully it went fine and there were a few fans who made a fuss but George just smiled and kept walking with you in his arms. Your legs were around his waist and your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you hid yourself away into his neck until the metal doors closed.
Once they did, you looked up at George and grinned, he laughed at your grin and smiled back. You couldn’t not tell him as you were in his arms though, “You smell really good.”
“Thanks babe.” The drummer winks, resulting in you immediately becoming flustered.
Matty heard and saw all this, so with a brief look of jealousy and distaste, he nudged his best friend, indicating to put you down. However, the drummer instead smirked, “Nah, she’s mine now mate.”
If that didn’t have you internally choking, the drummer moving his hands to your arse for the briefest few seconds to tease his best mate did. You’re winning at life well and truly, you’re certain you’ll die a happy woman.
After that, George let you return to your feet and you and Matty went about your day. It was quite early and both of you didn’t sleep well really despite falling asleep quickly. The bunk was definitely beginning to get uncomfortable now, so you’re certainly excited to be getting closer to being back in a proper bed.
Matty however, thought ahead and booked the two of you a day room at a nearby hotel which you both walked to after you had a sneaky walk around the docks, thankfully not being recognised by anyone. The room was stunning, and not even because it was fancy, it was just because after not sleeping in a proper bedroom since you were in Manchester it felt like a luxury.
A luxury which both you and Matty tarnished completely because you both did more than sleep in the bed and made most of the time you had alone with no need to worry about being quiet. You both napped after you wore each other out but then you both showered together which ended with both of you on your knees one after another.
After checking out and getting a taxi back to the venue, everything went smoothly. There was even a surprise waiting for you, which may be another best moment of the tour, because thanks to the fan who threw a sausage roll on stage back in Manchester, Greggs have sent the band a PR package.
It’s a glorious sight. 13 hot sausage rolls and a dozen different pasties for you all to feast on before the show. It was amazing and you’ve never seen food disappear so quickly in your life.
After that, you and Matty both greeted Denise and Lincoln who made the trip up to come and watch the show again. You were sticking to being in the pit again tonight and you went out just after Denise said goodbye to the boys.
When you got to the pit, you couldn’t help but laugh when you saw the crowd yelling and waving at Denise who is up at the top of the first tier of seats. She waves to her fans like the true queen she is and before you know it the show starts.
The show is as amazing as it always is and the crowd is as loud as ever. You’re screaming along with all of them, every line to every song at the top of your lungs but your yells of excitement are interrupted the moment the consumption interlude comes and, while everyone is screaming even louder at the sight, you’re speechless in embarrassment.
You’ve never felt such regret for sleeping with your boyfriend before, but when Matty did the consumption interlude that night and he took his shirt off, revealing to the 11 thousand people (Denise and Lincoln included, plus the band and the crew) that you’d scratched his back to shreds earlier. Your jaw dropped when you saw the red marks lining his shoulder blades.
You quite literally consider running away and never showing your face on this tour or to anyone on it afterwards but thankfully the show carries on and after a few songs you manage to forget about it. It’s a shame everyone else doesn’t forget though, because when you head backstage after the set has ended, you get endlessly teased for it.
If that wasn’t bad enough, the day after, the fans figured out that it wasn’t George carrying Charli into the venue in Liverpool. The bright side was that they didn’t know it was you but they found out it wasn't the queen of pop in the drummer’s arms because Charli attended an event at the same time as the gig back in London so the conspiracies went on and on. Twitter seemed to connect the girl in George’s arms as the one who had marked up Matty’s back and they seemed to just take the piss out of Matty for it because he wasn’t strong enough to carry you inside himself.
It made you and George laugh, but your boyfriend not so much. The next day he took every excuse he could to pick you up off the ground whether it was just to prove the point, or just to twirl you around to make you giggle. At one point he gave you a piggyback ride and he ran around the room filled with all the boys in it, even making Jordan take pictures of the two of you.
Jordan sent you both the pictures that night, and one of the pictures that came out where Matty is running but you and him towards Jordan is so funny. In the first, you and your boyfriend are giggling as he's zooming past the camera but you are both grinning line lunatics as you clutch him.
The second one though is your favourite because it was caught just as you lent around over Matty’s shoulder and his head was twisted towards you, and you were both laughing at each other as he held you up. You were fairly certain you kissed him afterwards too just before Matty raced back around the room.
Before any of you knew it, you were on the plane over to Ireland. The night you got there, you stayed in a hotel and with your free day before the next gig and Matty showed you around the sights. You had such a fun day being a tourist and your boyfriend showed you his favourite spots he always tried to come to when he was in Dublin. And to end the night off, you and the rest of the boys all ended up going to a pub where traditional Irish music was being played inside and it was so much fun.
The Dublin show was the second to last date of the tour and everyone had been incredibly excited about it. Of course, it had been a bit sad seeing this leg of the tour coming to an end but it had all gone so well that you felt more like celebrating the conclusion of such an amazing tour than sulking over it being over.
But it wasn’t the nostalgia of seeing the tour ending before your eyes that made the mood come down when you were all gathered in the greenroom at the venue, instead it was Jamie letting Matty know what a certain tabloid was planning on putting out about him on the next day’s paper.
You instantly caught the change in his behaviour and did your best to cheer him up a bit, which thankfully wasn’t that hard because he seemed to have gotten over it when it was time for you to go out into the crowd and him to get on stage.
That night, you kept your note sweet but funny, using his lyrics to try and steal at least a giggle out of him. When he read that it said, You got a pretty kinda dirty face x he chuckled to himself and pocketed it with a smile that reached his eyes. You were relieved seeing him smiling harder now after the note and you silently hoped it would stay that way until the gig ended.
But you celebrated too soon, because he went on to let the large crowd know about the situation right before singing Love It If We Made It and your heart got heavy seeing the clear distaste and upset on his face.
Matty didn’t let it hold him down though, because he went on to give a passionate rendition of the song and you got goosebumps as you watched him enraged and growling out the lyrics.
Unfortunately, after the show was done, the high came down quickly when you all walked back into the greenroom to the news of the article having been published online already and reading it was upsetting.
You watched as your boyfriend read it multiple times, getting more and more angry every time but he kept it to himself, only letting scoffs and shakes of his head show to everyone. The rest of the band read it and called bullshit on it, rolling their eyes at the way something had been twisted and taken way out of proportion.
It was when you got in the bunk together later that night, in the tour bus on your way to Belfast, that Matty properly let his emotions show.
He let angry tears fall from his eyes silently with you cradling his head on your chest, your right hand rubbing his back soothingly as your other hand was on his head and softly scratching his scalp.
It broke your heart hearing him getting this worked up and upset, your head a tangle of confused thoughts as to how people could be so quick to jump to the worst conclusions when taking a singular second of a moment out of context to fit their villainizing narrative.
“I’m sorry.” Matty apologised as he sniffled, picking up his head from your chest slightly so that he could wipe the tears off his cheeks.
But you shook your head, letting your hands come up to cup his face so you could take on the task of wiping his tears, “Don’t apologise, baby. It’s what I’m here for.”
You pulled him back down to rest over you and he didn’t have it in himself to deny the comfort that you were bringing him so he nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck and, right after he left a soft kiss on your skin, he quietly asked, “Am I a bad person?”
“No, you’re not.” You replied in a heartbeat, not even a hint of doubt crossing your mind, “People just love making others seem worse than them so that they can feel superior. It’s so fucked.” Your fingers tangled in his curls and pulled on them slightly, just so he could look at you as you continued, “Everyone knows the person you are, and you would never do that. You don’t stand for that. They’re always looking for something they can turn into a scandal and it’s so unfair that they do it at your expense.”
His teary eyes watch you intently for a few seconds, silence engulfing you entirely but your eye contact doesn’t break. That’s how you catch the tear that falls from the corner of his eye with your thumb quickly and you have to bite your bottom lip not to cry yourself.
Matty doesn’t say anything and you can’t blame him, it’s upsetting enough to see him go through this so you cannot imagine what it must feel like being called such a name for an action that got completely misinterpreted.
He kissed the palm of your hand softly, wet lips pressed on your soft skin adoringly with his eyes closed as if he’s indulging in it all.
“Let’s just go to sleep okay?” You suggest delicately, whisper breaking the silence and the heaviness of the moment, and you’re so glad that he nods and melts right into you.
After a long minute, you hear Matty sigh and you stay awake until you’re certain he’s asleep. Only when you register his steady breathing and the absence of his sniffling, do you will yourself to close your eyes and get some rest.
~*~*~*~ 30th January ~*~*~*~
Today, you woke up still feeling your chest heavy after everything that had happened last night. But it’s Amelia’s birthday and she's flying over to join you on the last day of tour, so you were excited to go pick her up from the airport, but that unfortunately meant having to leave an upset Matty for a bit just as the crew is starting to bring everything inside the venue.
Earlier that morning, whilst you had gone to the small bathroom in the bus, Matty had read the article once again and when he caved and went on Twitter to see what was being told, he felt his blood starting to boil in anger.
You can see it on his face even now that you’re back. You had managed to make it back to the venue, this time with Amelia beside you, just in time for soundcheck and despite the fact that Matty sounds amazing, it’s written all over his face just how much this is all bothering him still.
On the way back to the venue, you told Amelia what happened and the boy's reaction to it, so she was up to date. But despite the slight atmosphere, you weren’t going to let it affect your best friend's birthday.
The boys greet her warmly when she arrives and they all ask how she’s been. She gives you all the gossip that you’ve missed out on from the chicken shop offices along with other industry stuff that she’s heard. The boys find it quite amusing watching you both back together, it’s easy for them all to see you’ve both missed each other, it’s certainly like what any of them would be like with any long time apart.
Before long, it’s time to soundcheck and whilst you see Matty’s mood dip a little at that, you don’t comment on it despite it being written all over his face. The last thing you think would be helpful is drawing attention to it in front of everyone. So you just peck his lips quickly before you part ways and you head down to the pit with Amelia, fully intending to dance to a few songs with your best friend. And dance you do, to Too Shy, It’s Not Living, She’s American, and a couple more. However, the short practice takes a turn.
It surprises you when the singer turns to George and tells him they’re soundchecking Pressure right after they’ve finished soundchecking Oh Caroline. You feel your chest contract as you hear him angrily spout the lyrics, constantly taking sips of the water bottle that he keeps throwing to the ground beside his feet and rubbing his face like being in his own skin is annoying him.
The feeling in your chest gets even worse when after a few songs, he mumbles something into the mic and the lads start playing Me.
The second the song starts and you recognise it, you feel your heart sinking and you can’t even try and force a smile at Matty when he catches a glimpse at you. His eyes almost evade you as if it hurts him to have you seen him this way, but he keeps getting annoyed at every little thing from then on.
First, he keeps complaining about the volume of his mic compared to the rest of the instruments and after the third time he signals the sound guys to change it, he huffs and rolls his eyes as he gives up on everything. The next thing that happens is that he messes up the lyrics and makes them all start again, and that happens twice which has Ross grumbling under his breath at Matty.
Unsurprisingly, you and your best friend watch as the tension sweeps over the stage. The bassist muttering things clearly annoys Matty a bit more than it normally would and it seems like his thoughts start tangling together after that because he misses a line and starts later than he should’ve and the second he realises his mistake, he explodes in anger.
“No- Stop. Stop!” His arms are wailing around, brows in a permanent frown and his cheeks a hint of pink from how worked up he’s getting, “It’s all wrong!”
Adam lets his head hang at the outburst and George just watches Matty like he’s trying to find the best words to approach him with but Ross has had enough with his attitude so he just airs out his thoughts without much of a filter, “If you’re gonna change the setlist last minute then at least fucking try to properly soundcheck it mate. We’re all doing our parts alright.”
Matty knew they were all playing it right and it was just him who was unable to get it together and at least practice it well, “I fucking know Ross, okay?!” He’s almost shaking from anger, feeling like Ross isn’t even trying to understand where he’s coming from, “Fucking hell. Go and get called a fucking Nazi and see how it feels.”
“You think that hasn’t upset us all?!” Ross hisses in annoyance, “We fucking get it Matty but you’re being a right dick right now.”
“You know that it isn’t true so why are you letting it get to you this much? You’ve never let this shite get to your head before, why now?” Ross has a point with what he’s saying but the reasoning goes over Matty’s head when the bassist adds, “We’ve been through shit like this before, just stop caring like you always do.”
Matty takes is the wrong way and he’s fuming as he says, “And what’s that fucking meant to mean?” He doesn’t even let Ross speak though, because he’s quick to interrupt whatever he’s about to say with a scoff, “You’re such a fucking twat, Macdonald. That’s it. I’m not doing this anymore.”
Not even caring to put the microphone back on its stand, Matty throws it to the side and starts walking off stage, long strides that have Ross shaking his head, “Yes, fucking leave. ‘Cos that’s the best solution.”
Matty turns around to spout a venomous “Fuck you Ross.” and the last thing you hear him say before he disappears back inside the venue is, “Great fucking friend you are, you arsehole.”
You’re fully speechless watching all that happen before you, Amelia squeezes your forearm in shock and that snaps you out of your trance.
Your eyes go to Ross, who looks away when your eyes meet, then to George who just gives you a crooked smile and finally to Adam, who smiles softly at you like he’s trying to comfort you from afar.
“It’s just one of his tantrums, he’ll be alright.” Adam waves off as he sets his guitar on its stand, “He just needs a bit of time.”
You nod and sigh, the heaviness in your chest becoming more prominent, “Should I go check on him?”
“If you want?” George says once he’s down from where his kit is set up and shrugs at you with a bit of worry on his face.
Ross is the one to warn you though, “He might snap at you though, so don’t take it personal if he does.”
“Right.” You nod absentmindedly, trying to think of where Matty might be. You let your bottom lip free from between your teeth and turn to your best friend before you’re off to find your boyfriend, “Sorry Ames, I’ll be right back.”
Shooting Amelia an apologetic look, you start walking past her and she manages to get a little chuckle from you when she calls, “S’okay. Go get your man.”
You make a dash for the backstage area and arrive at the greenroom the quickest you can, and thankfully Matty is right there pacing the room with his head in his hands. His hair is sticking out in every direction from how much he’s pulling on it in frustration.
Careful to not startle him, you clear your throat as you walk into the room and stop when you’ve barely crossed the threshold. “Baby-” You try to ask him if he’s alright, but he interrupts your words when he looks up at you, red eyes with tears threatening to spill out at any second, and basically throws himself into your arms.
The weight of his body hitting yours has a huff slipping past your lips but your arms are quick to clutch him tightly and you allow him to just silently cry into you again. Instantly, you start whispering sweet nothings as you try to calm him down, but nothing works for a while.
Slowly, you guide the both of you to the nearest settee and when you take a seat on it, you encourage him to get comfortable with you. He has his legs thrown over your lap, his head hidden away in the crook of your neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
Matty is fully silent the whole time, just letting everything out on you and you try your best not to get upset yourself as he cries. 10 minutes must go by when he sniffles continuously and takes deep breaths as if trying to calm himself down, and he lifts his head up once he’s managed to stop crying but not before leaving a bunch of pecks on your neck.
“I’m such a twat, I’m so-” He tries to apologise in a panic, retreating to his space on the settee so he peels himself off you and that has you frowning.
“Don’t.” You interrupt his attempt at an apology and turn to him with a soft expression, your hand comes up to his face and cups it, thumb rubbing on his cheek and feeling the stubble creeping on his skin. “It’s okay, baby. Nothing to apologise for. You feeling a bit better?”
Your boyfriend lets his eyes close at your touch and he hums as confirmation in complete honesty. He’s so glad he can let himself be this vulnerable into you and he certainly notices just how much comfort you bring him because just your presence helps him settle down a bit after what had happened.
“Good.” You mumble in response and, cradling his head, you pull him onto you so he can rest on your chest while you hug him.
Despite all the bullshit that has gone down, seeing how you react in this situation and how you comfort him has his chest swelling. There’s no denying it anymore that you’re one of the best things that has ever happened to him and some thoughts start to clear up in his mind, all about the feelings he has towards you and a hint of how he might’ve underestimated them a little.
About 5 more minutes go by before the band and Amelia come back into the greenroom, their chatter quieting down when they walk into the room. They are wary about the state Matty was in and they don’t really want to disturb him if it was affecting him that much. There will be a much better moment to talk about it later so they will keep their mouths shut about it until the time comes to bring it up.
Amelia walks up to the drinks table and gets you and herself a water bottle, it really is so that you can give it to Matty because she doesn't want to disturb the singer. But when she walks up to you and hands you the bottle, you smile at her and thank her and the mention of her name makes Matty lift his head up to see your best friend.
He offers Amelia a forced side smile and you’re both surprised when he says, “M’sorry for ruining your birthday Ames.”
Amelia clicks her tongue and waves him off, “You haven’t! There’s nothing to apologise for, Matty.”
Your boyfriend gets himself up and pulls her into another hug, “Let me make you a drink, as an apology.”
“Maybe that apology I will accept.” Amelia giggles and she gives Matty a tight squeeze.
Your curly haired brunette smiles at your best friend before letting her go, and he looks between you and her before clapping and rubbing his hands together, “Let’s get the party started then.”
You don’t get in the way of that at all, George gets involved immediately grabbing a can out of the fridge and Rebekka and Polly all grab drinks too. Thankfully once music gets put on, the atmosphere settles a little and you relax that little bit more. And you’re really thankful to everyone wanting to make Amelia’s day special.
After you all end up having your first drink and raising your glasses to your best friend, you quickly grab your boyfriend’s attention for a moment, just to tell him, “I’m just gonna run to the bus. I need to get something, very quickly.”
“You remember the way back here, right?” Matty double checks, and he’s about to offer to come back with you until you assure him.
“I do.” You promise, and you cheekily ask, “Can you please make me another one of those cocktails for when I get back?”
Matty just grins though, “Of course baby.”
Quickly, you kiss him before you head out and Matty’s heart races that little bit when you turn back before you walk out and you catch him smiling at you.
He feels himself blush at the way you wink at him before you disappear off and he takes a second to calm down before he preps the drink you requested. He chats to your best friend with ease and Matty can tell himself getting that little bit better because she provides him with a good distraction. Even if she is jokingly asking if you’re boring him on tour yet or if your excitement has dwindled during the gigs.
When you come back 10 minutes later, everyone notices because when you come back in because as you do, you flick the lights off and when all eyes go to the door, they see you smiling with a birthday cake in your hands. You start off singing Happy Birthday to your best friend and you walk toward her with a grin and laugh through the lyrics when you see her cackling at the fact you have bought her a children’s Spiderman cake.
You’re glad she found it funny as all of this Andrew Garfield hype definitely wasn’t going to leave her anytime soon. After you set the cake down just before the song finished, Amelia blew out her candles and turned to you to give you the biggest hug ever. She thanks you a bunch of times and you giggle telling her how much you love her and have missed her and that you hope she has a fantastic day. After you say how excited you are for her to open her presents, and she promises she’ll open them when you both get back to the hotel, she notices that you’ve changed.
“Outfit change?” Amelia asks with a grin, as she knows exactly where she’s seen this outfit on you before.
You grin and nod, “Had to get my party fit on, Ames.”
“Course.” She laughs, and you notice the way Matty grins as he realises what you’ve changed into as she says, “You look hot.”
You wink at her and smile, “Thanks bestie.”
She winks back at you before turning around herself and heading over to socialise with Ross.
“Party outfit?” Your boyfriend moves over and wraps his arm around your waist. He can’t help but knowingly ask, “You’re wearing this for me?”
He doesn’t even have to ask. He knows you are. Why else would you be wearing red leather pants paired with a cheetah print, long sleeve top?
You shrug nonchalantly, trying not to let the grin tug at your lips, “Maybe?”
“Brings back good memories.” Matty says as he comes around to stand in front of you and he wraps his arms around your waist.
You feel heat rise to your cheeks at the thought of your first date. You genuinely can’t believe that your favourite singer is now your boyfriend, and it all started in a chicken shop in Cricklewood. “Amazing memories.”
Matty has genuinely never been so glad he agreed to an interview. And yes maybe he will eventually admit that he requested to have the date with you, but he’s beyond glad that he did because you have changed his life so much, and it’s certainly for the better.
“The bandana is missing though.” He points out with a soft pout on his face, you can’t hold back from pressing a quick kiss on his lips.
“I didn’t pack it. Sorry baby.” You truly wish you had taken that red bandana with you now but you think the outfit looks recognizable enough without it.
He quickly finds a solution in his head, “I can sort that out.” A red bandana is easy to get, he figures.
“‘Course you can.” You scoff out a laugh, but your amusement settles deep in your chest to add to the adoration you feel for this man. “Kinda wish it was raining right now, you know?” Your voice raises in pitch slightly and your smile grows bigger on your face when you think back to that moment, “Wanna kiss you in the rain again.”
Matty blushes and smiles so big, it reaches his eyes, wrinkles showing at the edges and it makes you melt as he says, “Do you?”
You hum as you nod, “I really do.” And just to taunt him you feign pity as you say, “What a shame, isn’t it?”
His eyes go from your down to your lips and up again continuously, you lick your bottom lip purposely as if daring him to kiss you but he sighs shakily and agrees, “What a shame.”
You want to laugh, his self control clearly crumbling because his gaze keeps dropping down to your lips, so you wrap your arms around his neck and with a toothy smile, you say, “Just kiss me, silly.” and Matty is not one to say no to anything you want.
However, your kiss is interrupted by Amelia and Ross gagging loudly beside you as they approach you with shots in hand. Turns out having tequila shots was the birthday girl’s wishes and you are pushed to downing the hellish liquid multiple times while you wait for the show to start.
Right before you’re off to the pit, you all have a little toast to the tour and to Amelia and it’s so cute being part of this little family. It warms your heart looking back and seeing how everyone had welcomed you into the tour and it’s even more special when you see your best friend also be treated like one of the family.
You’ve caught her giggling around with the band all night, having long conversations with Polly and Ross and even whispering about god-knows-what to Matty before you leave. It has you curious how they seem to be scheming something in secret until the very last minute you have in the greenroom.
But you forget to ask what they were talking about when you’re rushing out of the greenroom and it’s hilarious because, since you’re so tipsy, you and Amelia are giggling uncontrollably as you make your way through the pit.
Your note tonight is perfect for what Matty has schemed with Amelia, and he thinks it’s such a cute coincidence that you’ve written, Baby you look so cool x (you’d originally written babe but scribbled the e and written a y just underneath it) without knowing what is going to happen when the band starts playing Robbers.
Next comes the Charlie Chaplin cover of Smile which never fails to make you do just that, even if Matty acts all drunk and lonely on stage as he sings. You think it’s a beautiful song and you’re so happy that you’d got to see him sing it so often. But what happens next shocks you and the entire arena beyond belief.
It sobers you up watching the bit play out on stage, unbelievably so when you see Matty break down into tears holding Ross’ shoulder and apologising to him as Ross is forced to stand there and not react. You can’t even tell if he’s crying for the bit or not, it worries you.
As soon as you knew the consumption interlude was coming, you headed backstage needing to know if everything was alright because even though he had played 6 more songs after that bit had happened, he seemed a bit off.
So you appeared backstage and your arms opened up for him to run into them the second you saw him and you’re so glad he clutches you tightly and promises you he’s alright after you ask him if there was something bothering him.
He didn’t have much time to stay and chat to you, since the crew had gotten the stage ready for the at their very best section quickly so you reluctantly let him go with a sweet kiss that he thoroughly enjoys despite being rushed back onto stage.
Once he’s gone back on stage with the lads, you figure it’s better for you to be close to the stage just in case he gets upset again, so you go to the far left side of the stage where typically the crew watch the show from and stay there for the rest of the show.
Or at least that is what you were planning to do until your boyfriend takes the opportunity of An Encounter drowning the arena to start a little monologue which sparks your curiosity.
Matty smiles into the microphone and adjusts his in-ears as he walks over to the edge of the stage and leans forward as if he’s about to tell the crowd a secret. “You know, this next song has become a lot more special this past month and I wanted to share with you the reason for why that is.”
Listening to those words knowing that Robbers is next makes you turn slowly to your best friend and you find Amelia smiling brightly as you and you just know she has to do something with this because of the mischievous glint in her eyes.
There isn’t a chance for you to even ask about what’s happening when she drags you into the back of the stage and up the stairs so that you’re right beside the house. You’re so confused but you have to take quick steps so you don’t fall and it is when you’re almost by the door of the house that she pulls out a piece of red fabric and when a bit of light manages its way over where you are standing, you realise it’s a red bandana - the one you were missing.
“Put this on.” Amelia holds the bandana out for you.
But you’re so confused about everything, and why you’ve been moved to behind the stage, and what the bandana is even for, so you blankly ask, “What?”
“God- Okay,” Amelia half laughs, before she takes control of the situation as your confusion isn’t helping, “I’ll put it on you then.”
Your best friend spins you around so she can tie the material at the back of your head before turning you back and adjusting the bandana so it’s over your nose and it’s in the perfect position.
“What’s going on?” You ask as she’s doing this.
Your confusion doesn’t help when you can also hear screams from the audience and Matty’s muffled voice too. Clearly somethings going on and you’ve been left in the dark.
Your best friend looks you dead in the eye and pleads, “Trust me okay.” But you can’t settle.
“Ames, what’s happening?” You repeat yourself and she must be able to see the panic in your eyes because she answers you.
“You’re gonna go out there for something your boyfriend has planned.”
It’s an instinctive reaction to immediately be defensive, “What?! No!”
“Yes, come on!” Amelia grins, and quickly goes on to guilt trip you, “For me? For my birthday?”
“Ames…” You trail off, feeling like you’re frozen because you have no idea what you’re meant to do. Especially when she hands you a black bandana.
But your best friend spells it out for you, “As soon as Matty opens the door, you’re gonna tie this around his neck, okay?”
“Okay.” You say in a bit of a rush, your blood flooding with adrenaline so you blindly accept what she’s telling you. She adjusts your red one on your nose again, making sure it’s perfectly positioned as she instructs, “And keep this one around yours.”
You not without really knowing you’re agreeing yet you respond, “Okay.”
“Good luck,” She grins at you like a proud mother, “You got this.”
“Amelia-” You’re about to beg her for something more, but before you can the door in front of you opens, almost making you jump.
Your boyfriend stands at the open door with his hand already out for you to grab, the dreamiest smile on his face and you’re so nervous, you’re feeling a rush of a million emotions in one second.
And then your gaze drops to his chest in full show because his shirt is open and when you realise he’s somehow managed to get the Robbers shirt and is proudly wearing it for the song. It knocks the wind out of you, your throat goes dry at your lack of knowledge of what’s about to happen that involves you but Matty looks so happy compared to earlier that you’re willing to take part of whatever he’s planned.
That sultry, “Hey baby.” which makes your stomach flutter, snaps you out of the initial shock.
“What are we doing?” You ask through the bandana, almost frozen in your spot but he encourages you to take a small step forward.
“Putting on a show.” He pulls back and grins before he looks down at you and squeezes your hand as he says, “You look gorgeous.”
“I-” Whilst the compliment makes you blush, you’re not really sure it’s the time as you want more instructions from him than flattery. Regardless though, you end up stuttering a, “Thank you.”
“I got you baby. Let’s go.” Matty squeezes your hand tightly and this time you don’t hesitate to step out to him as you hear An Encounter begin to fade into your favourite song. Your boyfriend turns to you once more at the entryway to his house, the both of you just beside Rebekka and he still shields you from most people as he leans down to say into your ear, “Do what we did the other day in soundcheck, okay. I’ll stand on the table and when I go to sit down you crouch, okay?”
“Okay.” You nod complacently.
Kneel down in front of him, you can do. You’ve had practice at this point and you’ll be fine.
Your boyfriend checks once more, looking into your eyes intently for any discomfort you may be feeling as he asks, “You okay?”
“Yeah.” You promise him, nodding.
You trust Matty completely. If he wants you to do this, and be a part of his show, you’re going to do it as best you can.
The singer grins, leaning down again quickly to promise, “I got you.” and as you smile beneath the bandana, he also kisses just over your ear which makes you get flustered all over again.
And then suddenly you’re hit with a mass of screams and it’s difficult to even listen to the music that is being played around you. If you didn’t have those in-ears already in you would be fucked.
Matty walks just one step in front of you, pulling you across towards George, but only for a step until he turns back towards you and pulls you into his body. His hand lands on your waist and he slow dances you towards the white door as the drums kick in and everyone screams again.
Little do you know, more screams take place because on the screen, it comes up with, Special Guest: New Robbers Girl. It’s a detail which you will certainly be laughing at later but in the moment you have no idea as your boyfriend is dancing you across his stage.
You giggle, knowing exactly what he’s doing and what he’s referencing as you dreamed about someone doing this with you when you were younger and you first watched the music video that still to this day has you in a chokehold. Despite your heart beating wildly, you let him lead you like that, spinning you both around until you are through the door and see Polly and Jamie who give you big smiles.
That’s the moment Matty frees you from the short dance but he pulls your arm until it's fully extended and you’re gently dragged along in the direction of the stairs. It's again another reference to the beginning of the music video and you love it with all your heart.
When you reach the bottom of the stairs, it doesn’t take you long to reach the place where you know you’re gonna be standing which is right by the coffee table and once your boyfriend turns you around by the waist so you’re facing him, you catch Adam smiling at you and it definitely helps to settle your nerves a bit.
But Matty starting to sing brings all of your attention back to him, goosebumps erupt all over your skin at the charged energy of the arena and the way he sounds with the crowd singing along.
In your hands remains the bandana Amelia gave you just before the door opened, and you remember what you’re meant to do with it when you clutch it tightly between your fingers. So you bring it up to his neck so you can tie it on the back, but your actions still when he sings the next line staring directly into your eyes.
“God only knows but you’ll never leave her,” the conviction in his eyes makes you melt inside, your knees get weak and your heart swells and the flood of every feeling this man brings you comes in even stronger when he reiterates into the mic, “Never.”
You aren’t sure how you manage to tie the bandana around his neck when that happens, but you’re soon smoothing your hands from his shoulders down to his sweaty taut chest and you genuinely feel like you need to pinch yourself just to make sure you aren’t dreaming.
His fingers wrap around your wrist and slowly he walks backwards until he hits the coffee table and he gets up on it. He doesn’t even have to guide you where to go because you’re positioning yourself right in front of him, looking up as he continues to sing.
The lights on stage showcase his beauty, and you can’t help but get lost in how good he looks in his element. It’s different seeing it from up close, the brown of his eyes glistening under the lighting and his curls being illuminated like a halo around his head.
“Begging babe stay, stay, stay, stay, stay.” You watch him intently and you can’t help but grin at the way he nudges the microphone against your chin for that final stay.
Matty can tell just how big your smile is from the way your eyes are half closed and the apples of your cheeks moving to bring the bandana up the slightest bit. And he smiles just as brightly, nothing has ever felt more right to him than this.
As he’s singing, “One more fight,” Matty slowly steps down from the table and you know your queue. You start to kneel down and when you do Matty sits on the end of the table.
You’re singing along with him, not giving a shit if he can hear you or not or whether it’s ruining what he had planned but you can’t help yourself. He’s singing your favourite song to you.
He reaches the first, “Will I know you.” and as Adam’s guitar begins to ring in the background, Matty leans in and you know what’s coming. You welcome the way he gently grabs your jaw over your bandana and he pulls you in.
In the short gap between the verses, Matty presses his lips over yours, through the red material you’re wearing, and you can’t help but smile as you close your eyes to kiss him back. It’s a weird sensation, kissing but not quite, but you can feel his smile through it and you can see the joy on his face when you both pull away seconds after the crowd erupts in screams.
What the fuck is happening? Is all that’s going through your mind at the moment.
Your mind just can’t really grasp reality at the minute, not when your boyfriend is making one of your teenage dreams come true. Hell, your boyfriend is your teenage dream come true.
Both of you stay in that position as he continues onto the second verse, with you singing along as he looks into your eyes. Matty can tell you’re doing this, and he doesn’t need to see beneath the material to know that your lips are pulled into a huge smile, he can tell just from your eyes alone.
“You’ve got a pretty kind of dirty face.” Matty grins over his microphone as he sings that line at you. But he doesn’t stop there, he gently traces his finger down the centre of your face as he does and it has people screaming that little bit louder, along with you doing the same internally.
As he continues, he doesn’t let his touch stray for long. Instead, he takes a piece of your hair and starts toying with it. Twirling it around his finger over and over as he sings, “And when she’s leaving you’re home, she’s begging you to stay, stay, stay, stay, stay.”
Your eyes glimmer with adoration and your heart feels like it’s about to burst in your chest when he sings, “There’ll be a riot, cause I know you.” and he takes a hold of your wrist where ‘Be a riot’ is inked on your skin and he plants a chaste kiss over it.
It isn’t long that you can stay short circuiting over the gesture, because he’s sliding his hand up from your wrist to intertwine your fingers and helping you back up to stand on your feet.
The song starts building up, his voice becoming more passionate and so does his touch which goes from your hand to cup the side of your neck, bringing you a step closer to him. His fingers lace through the strands of your hair, twirling them softly before letting them fall.
And you know it then, what he’s going to do, knowing which line is sneaking up on you and you nod, reading his mind about it. It’s subtle and reassuring, and it’s warmth that envelopes you as it pours out of both of you when you know that this is it.
Matty’s finger tentatively comes to rest over the bridge of your nose, hooking on the edge of the bandana and he slowly peels it down your face as he sings, “But if you just take off your mask,”
The screams of the crowd when your face is finally revealed are deafening, yet it feels like you’re inside of a bubble. Just you and Matty. No one else. And this is your moment, just you two and there’s absolutely nothing else you could ever wish for.
Your cheeks hurt from how big you’re smiling, and his own smile is making it harder for him to continue singing. That and how badly he wants to seal this moment with a kiss, how badly he wants for everyone to know just how strongly he feels about you, how badly he wants for everyone to see how you’ve got him at your mercy entirely because he’s sure there’s nothing you could ever ask that he wouldn’t do.
“Sing it for me babies!” Matty shouts to the audience and he holds the microphone out towards them so they can scream, ‘Now everybody’s dead!’ but your boyfriend has other ideas for you two.
With his other hand, Matty cups the back of your neck and firmly and fiercely kisses you as the crowd screams the lyrics at the both of you. He lets the wire fall over his arm as he drops the microphone so he can get it again with ease later, but he brings his now free hand to your waist, wrapping it around your lower back pulling you into him, until he consumes you entirely.
It’s instinctive that your hand roots into his curls at this point, the other grabbing hold of his open shirt, pulling it towards you making sure he can’t escape either. Your heart is pounding, entirely running on adrenaline, and completely overwhelmed with the feelings you have for the man who’s holding you in his arms.
Matty never wants to let you go and you hope he doesn’t either. Over the loud screams you can barely hear the song anymore but you know he’s missed more than just that one lyric. It’s only when you just about hear the others singing through your in-ears, “He’s got his gun.” that you realise you’ve both got too wrapped up in the moment.
Yet, still in your hazy mind, you manage to register your favourite part of the song and you’re the one who pulls back and breaks the kiss solely to tell him, “Babe, you look so cool.”
His face is flushed, curls dishevelled just how you like them and that loopy smile on his face that melts your heart, and he looks into your eyes in a way that you just can’t describe, his lips parting and letting a soft exhale to hit your mouth before he sings to you, “You look so cool.”
Suddenly, he remembers he’s meant to sing so he’s hastily getting ahold of the mic again, but he interrupts himself and cuts the run he’s meant to do as he sings the word ‘cool’ when he watches your lips move as you sing along and he can’t be arsed singing anymore when you’re right there in front of him.
He throws the mic to the floor, the wire falling down his arm so he’s free to cup your face with both hands and pressing your lips together feverishly. His arms wrap around the back of your neck, and he brings his hands up to your hair to pull on it softly once before he’s crossing his forearms behind your head so he can pull you impossibly closer to him.
You moan softly into his mouth at his desperation, matching it with the way your fingers dig into the flesh of his waist where you’re holding him tightly as if there was a chance that he could be snatched away from you if you weren’t careful. You kiss until you’re lost for breath, only parting when you need to for air but it's never for more than a split second.
There's a push and pull between you as the rest of the band finish playing the song with huge smiles on their faces. If Matty came into the kiss a little too strong you’d try and take a step backwards but he quickly follows you, keeping you in the kiss, and he would lean backwards pulling you forwards.
The song unfortunately ends and that's when you force yourself to pull back from the kisses. But when you do, Matty just grins and he turns towards the crowd, pulling you with him and he moves so he can hug you from behind quickly so you can take in the applause.
“All for us baby.” He says into your ear, and you can’t help but turn around to quickly hug him, a little embarrassed being up here in front of so many people.
Your boyfriend giggles but doesn’t hesitate for a second to hug you back as the applause rings on. After a second though you pull back and Matty takes your hand in his and he starts moving the both of you back over to Adam’s side of the stage so you can get to the stairs.
Matty lets you walk in front of him, making sure you get up the stairs alright, and then he lets you walk back across the top of the stage towards the ‘front’ door. George and Rebekka grin at you as you walk past which gets you a little more embarrassed but you embrace it when you get to the door and you look out at the huge audience again.
You blow them all a kiss and give them a big wave and smile which makes everyone scream again and it makes you giggle. When you turn to look at your boyfriend again, he’s already grinning at you and he gives your hand a squeeze, and just the way he’s looking so cute and so gooey, you give him another kiss.
It’s quicker than your last few but it means just as much as those ones. You can feel each other's smiles which cuts it a little shorter but you’re grinning like fools when you step back towards the door again.
Like a gentleman he opens the door for you and as you’re about to go through he pulls you back in for another kiss. It’s a short kiss but it’s one you cherish so much, even more when you part and at the same time you both mouth, “Obsessed with you.” at each other. You take a step through the door but before you can walk through, you feel yourself get all flustered as he looks at you, before you can walk through the door though he holds your hip and tells you, “Wait here a second baby.”
Matty quickly pecks your lips one last time, before he jumps down from the top stage, onto the settee and then he quickly crouches down to pick up the microphone from near the edge of the stage where he threw it earlier. He sighs with a toothy grin on his face once his eyes are back on the crowd. Seeing this many people witness you and him finally out and not sneaking around makes him incredibly happy.
“Y/N Y/L/N, ladies and gentlemen.” His voice rings through the speakers, as he turns to watch you wave goodbye to the mass of people in front of the stage and you quickly blow him another kiss before you turn to walk back through the house’s door.
“Wow, what a girlfriend reveal!” Matty breathes out with a giggle at the end, as soon as you’ve disappeared behind the door. He’s so giddy, he just can’t conceal it and he doesn’t really want to so he gives in and proudly shares with the crowd as he grabs he walks up and down the stage, “I’m a very lucky man. The luckiest in fact, can you believe I’ve managed to snag one of the hotties from Chicken Shop Date?”
The crowd gets loud again but the noise doesn’t stop the thoughts from leaving the singer’s mouth entirely unfiltered, “I know I can’t. Still have to pinch myself every morning when I wake up next to her. She’s truly the woman of my dreams.” Matty feels his cheeks get hot at the admission, a string of giggles slipping past his lips.
At least the screams he gets as a response feel like validation so he continues with it, “Sorry for being soppy but, I mean… You lot know her, how could I not?” He’s trying to elongate the mic’s wire, knowing which song is next on the setlist and how he’s gonna want to go all around the stage.
But as he finishes unknotting it and pulling it the most he can, he looks back up to the people before him and adds some more, “Isn’t she just fucking gorgeous as well?”
Matty truly could speak about you for hours, it’s not even been a month since you’ve officially gotten together but he has so many things about you pinned to the forefront of his mind and there’s so many things that he thinks about you that he could honestly find himself lost in sentences regarding all that you are and what you’ve achieved and every little thing you do.
So it’s no surprise that his tongue wants to let loose and spill all of these thoughts out but then he hears George call him, “Simp,” through his in-ears and all of the band giggles when it stops Matty in his tracks.
He turns around to look at the drummer with a glare and he calls him out, “Alright George, piss off. I don’t say shit when you’re with Charli.”
It makes the crowd laugh and holler, some of them spouting comments in the air that get lost in the chaos of so many people shouting at the same time but in a couple of seconds it settles and a particular scream manages to make itself clear out of the crowd and Matty cackles loudly into the mic, “Someone’s just said foursome.”
George laughs into the mic as well, and Matty manages to hear something along the lines of, “You can be in the corner recording.” in between the crowd’s loud screams at the prospect of the lewd proposition.
“Let’s not bring that back to Y/N’s attention please, I’ve already gone through that chat.” Matty admits with a cheeky smile, hoping that you’re listening to this and already picturing in his mind the way you must be flustered at this talk being had on stage in front of thousands of people.
And you are flustered, fanning yourself because you feel scorching hot after everything that has happened in the past ten minutes. So much so, you’ve had to sit down and you’re now watching the screens backstage as you listen to your boyfriend.
“I feel faint.” You let Amelia know, your brows are softly pinched together from how lightheaded and hot you’re feeling but still staring at the screen in front of you with a look that Amelia reads instantly.
With the adrenaline dying down, you can’t quite believe you’ve just done that. You got your robbers kiss, your moment to your favourite song that you’ve only dreamed about since 2013. And now, you and Matty are public. You can’t stop smiling despite the way your heart is beating out of your chest.
Amelia sits beside you, her arm going over your shoulder and she pulls you into her as she giggles before kissing your cheek.
“You’re down bad.” She concludes, she can see it written all over your face and it shines through your eyes and her heart swells in her chest for you.
She’s never seen you so happy.
Despite how soon it may be, you nod in confirmation, “I am.”
From the way your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard and the tingling you feel rushing to every corner of your being, you know it’s more than the adrenaline pumping through your veins that is making your heart beat wildly. After what just happened on stage, there’s no way you can deny that your feelings for Matty are getting stronger with every second you spend by his side.
It’s crazy. It’s rushed. It’s far too soon. You can almost clearly hear everyone telling you.
But you know in your heart, nothing and nobody has ever felt more right.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: We hope you enjoyed this one because we truly loved writing it so much. We were so emotional thinking about how this was originally the end, so glad we got more content to continue writing about! We just wanted to say that we’re not having the Friedland podcast in this story because we have no interest in touching that subject in a work of fiction that we consider an escape from reality. Instead, since this is a continuation of NRIACC Matty and he wouldn’t have ever taken part in that, we’re having the Brits as they were meant to happen and we’re so excited to write that evening and share it with you guys. Thanks so much for reading again, and for your patience and all the love you give this story, yous are the best! xx 
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redlittlefoxari · 5 months
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Astrion Epilogue: An Adventure in Making a Life
Chapter Six: On the road with secrets
Summary: The Party gets suspicious when Tav suddenly starts having morning sickness. Tav and Astsrion try to explain the sickness without giving away that Tav is Seven Weeks pregnant.
Warnings: NSFW+18, smut, pregnancy, blood, violence, fluff, angst.
Relationship: Astarion X Tav
Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate) Karlach (Baldur's Gate)Gale (Baldur's Gate) Wyll (Baldur's Gate) Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate)Lae'zel (Baldur's Gate) Tav (Baldur's Gate) Jaheira (Baldur's Gate) Halsin(Baldur's Gate)
Master List
Seven weeks pregnant 
It had been a week since you started the journey to water deep, and today was the worst day. You awoke to your stomach reeling and barely made out your tent flaps before last night's dinner made its way up your throat and lips. You spent several moments heaving up the dinner Astarion made for you. The red contents thankfully looked like wine and not the blood mixed with cherry juice you had last night. You prayed that your friends would think you had too much wine last night and not question you much about your morning sickness. 
Astarion emerged from the tent in the middle of your heaving and rubbed small circles around your back in soothing comfort. There wasn't much he could do for you now but give you some form of comfort until this passed. 
At the commotion, the others started to stir from their tents and eyed the two of you with worry. Shadowhearts eyebrow was raised in suspicion a question forming in her mind. You weren't seen with any alcohol last night and had refused when she offered you a drink of her stash last night, claiming you brought your own. By the look on her face, you gaged that she was playing back the night's events in her mind. 
"You know how it is, Shadowheart?" Astarion was quick: "One too many glasses of wine and a night of passion upsets the stomach after." 
You let out a huff of air and whipped your lips. Your mouth tasted like cherries and blood. Cherry juice had the same metallic taste of blood but cut with an edge of sweetness that you have been craving this pregnancy. You still ate other foods because Astarion wouldn't let you eat cake and other sweet confections, but they were still what you craved the most. 
"Yup… Just too much good wine and… passion." You gave Astarion a sideways glare. Did he have to add the passion part? You just got back a sly smile as a response. 
"What vintage was it?" 
"What?" You weren't expecting to get interrogated. 
"I want to get a bottle when we return to the city. If it did that to you, I'm sure it's robust." She started to close the distance, avoiding the puddle you made. 
"I don't remember… I was really drunk by the time…"
"Where is the bottle that will tell us." She looked over your shoulder. 
"Do you think this is the time to question her about wine?" Karlach stepped in to save you. "She just got sick all over herself, and you're more worried about the vintage so you can get drunk better? You need to check yourself into a program, I swear."
Gods, you loved this big beautiful teifling. Shadowheart was right to be suspicious, but Astarion and you agreed that you wouldn't tell you about the pregnancy until you hit the second trimester at fourteen weeks. The perfect timing for the party. You would party to celebrate Gale, and then after the celebration, when everything would die down, and the rest of the guests would leave. It was just you, Karlach, Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion; you would tell them the good news. But for now, too many things could go wrong. There were too many unknowns; it was better to keep it under wraps for now, lying when you needed to. 
"I don't have a problem. I didn't see her drinking last night." Shadowhert turned to face Karlach, who had a good two feet on her. 
"Their tent has flaps, so unless you can peer through solid objects, my guess is that she drank the wine behind it. Now, can we get a move on? We'er burring daylight." Karlach turned to hers and Wyll's tent to start packing it away. 
"If we find the bottle or remember the vintage, we will be sure to let you know, Shadowheart," Astarion said with a cool bit of ice in his words. 
"I'm sure you will… feel better. We have a long journey today." With that, shadowheart walked away to her own tent. 
"She was always suspicious." Astarion's eyes bore into the back of her head.
"She was trained too; let's just pack up and get ready to leave; hopefully, when we get onto the road, they will forget about this, and next time I have morning sickness, I'll try to throw up more quietly and in the bushes." You turned and walked into your tent with Astarion at your heels. 
"She's like a dog with a bone. She won't let this go, but when we stop in the next town, we can slip away and buy some bottles of wine. That may sway her. She can't see us buy them." You nodded at his words. It might work. 
"Okay, we'll do that in the next town, but that's still fifteen days away. What do we do if I get sick before then?" Your question hung in the air for a few seconds. 
"Food poisoning?" He shrugged. "We are cooking everything over a fire on sticks found in the woods. Who knows what things are on them."
"Okay, we'll go with that for now, but we need to think of something else." You gave him a light kiss on his lips, not wanting him to taste too much of what you regurgitated. 
Before you could pull away, Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, causing you to gasp, allowing him to pull you into a complex, demanding kiss that searched your mouth with his tongue. You moaned into the kiss as the feel of him inside your mouth awoke something in you that you didn't know you could feel after throwing up everything in your stomach. 
Astarion ended the kiss and placed the hand that wasn't around your wrist so that it cupped your face on one side. "I would kiss you even if you tasted like garlic, and it would burn me from the inside out. Never think I wouldn't want to kiss you like that for a moment."
Your cheeks felt hot at his decoration of love and devotion. You knew he felt that way, but this baby made your emotions go haywire. Mood swings were becoming more familiar to you, and it didn't help that something was getting bigger every time you looked in the mirror. Your hips were fuller, your breasts bigger, and it was getting more and more challenging to get into your armor by the day. You were feeling insecure about everything that made you who you are. 
"I know it's just… This baby is changing me, and whenever I look in the mirror, I see a different person." You looked away from his pricing stare, his red eyes seeming like they were looking into your soul. 
"You know what I see when I look at you?" He pulled your gaze back towards his eyes. "I see the beautiful woman who is carrying my child inside her, and whenever I look at you, I have to fight every fiber of my being not to rip your clothes off and have you in front of the gods and everyone." You placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen besides myself." 
You snorted a laugh and were fighting back tears. 
"But you are even before me." His hand moved from your wrist to your belly. "This is a gift, making you more beautiful by the day, my love." 
"Thank you, Astarion." You rubbed tears out of your eyes. 
"Don't thank me for telling you the truth. Now, let's get you something to eat before we start packing up and leaving. We can't have you starving." Astarion gave you one more kiss, choosing to place it on your forehead before he turned to his pack and pulled out a jar of chilled blood mixed with some cherry juice. The jars were wrapped in cloths woven in frost giant hair that radiated cold energy, keeping whatever was wrapped in them cold and thus significantly increasing the time things could be kept. 
"This was such a clever idea. We should paton this and sell it around Baldur's Gate. We could be rich." Astarion handed you your jar.
"It just came to me one day. If we did sell this, we would probably never have to go on another adventure again. We could buy a big house in the upper city and raise our child." You slowly sipped your breakfast, fearing that it would come up to greet you again if you didn't pace yourself. 
"Now that does sound nice." Astarion grabbed a jar of blood for himself and began doing the same. The both of you are thinking of the future that you would share with your selves and your unborn child. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the end of the day, your feet felt beyond swollen. Twenty-four miles later, you finally reached the ruins that would be your campsite for the night. They were of an old temple to a god long past dead and gone, but the centuries still held many secrets. The stones were crumbling, but they would make do for just one night as the likelihood of the whole thing collapsing was a slim possibility. 
"Are you doing alright?" You heard Wyll's voice as you stopped just before the entrance of the ruins to take off your boots and rub your tired feet. 
"Oh yeah, I'm doing fine; it's been a while since I walked this much. My feet seemed to have lost their natural calluses." You plastered a smile on your face, hoping it would convince him of your authenticity.
"I know what you mean; Karlach and I have slowed down during the years. We still go out on adventures, but for the most part, we try to stay home and relax." Wyll returned your smile with one of his own. 
The two of you chatted while the others made their way farther along the trail leading to the ruins. Karlach and Astarion were deep in conversation about the many things they had been up to and the beasts they had slain over the last fifty years. Time moved differently in the hells than it did on this plain, so there was a lot to talk about and catch up with. 
Shadowheart just listened and made comments every once in a great while. You knew that what happened this morning was still bawling at her. She knew something was up, and it wasn't that you got so drunk that you made yourself sick. You just hoped that she would respect your privacy and not investigate the subject any further. You were leaning towards her doing as when she had her secrets about Shar and the prism when you first met; you didn't pepper her with questions. You let her open up to you in her own time, and she respected you for it. She would give you the same courtesy you had hoped for. 
"We should probably catch back up to the others." You slipped your boots back on and got up from the log, shouldering your pack once again as you started to make your way to where the others were.
"Right, I'm ready to make camp for the night and sleep! I'm getting too old for this." Wyll did the same and joined you. 
"Nonsense, I think you have another forty years of adventuring left!" The two of you laughed. 
"Gods, I hope not. I want to buy some land outside the city and just live." 
The way Wyll spoke made you think of your plans. You resisted the urge to place your hand on your stomach. They would be a dead giveaway, and as far as your friends knew, you didn't want to have children and couldn't as long as Astarion was your partner. So, no one talked of children; none of you currently have children. At least none that you knew of. 
You didn't hear the arrows as they came towards you. Still, you felt the impact as they embedded themselves in your shoulder and stomach. They sent you careening toward the ground. Your back hit the ground, and you heard Astarion scream your name, terror in his voice. 
Bandits surrounded you and Wyll. Five of them total were probably there to see if they could find the secrets of the ruins and thought your little group was too. So they were going to take care of you. That way, they didn't need to share. 
Wyll produced his rapier and put it through the heart of one of the bandits. At the same time, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Astarion raced to where the two of you were located. You slowly made your way up from prone, your shoulder throbbing in pain from the arrow protruding out from it. You looked for an opening to run; you were skilled with a bow, and close combat was not your strongest skill. You saw an opening between Wyll and the bandit he downed and dashed beyond them. 
Astarion made quick work of one bandit ripping the throat and sucking him dry of blood. Crimson dripped from his chin, and he was a sight to behold. Red eyes seemed to glow as he locked eyes with you and motioned for you to run.
 You gave him a nod; as you turned your back, holding your shoulder, you heard a familiar spell being cast. Hail of thorns. This time, you listened to the hundreds of thorns coming towards you. It seemed that your running away made you the prime target since you were not paying attention to anyone and would be the most distracted. You braced yourself for the impact of the thorns, but they never came when you turned to see why Astarion was shielding you with his body. 
You heard a wet crunch as Karlach Sliced the last bandit with her great axe, and the others came towards you and Astarion. He looked like a porcupine. Long thorns were jutting out from his back, but he didn't seem to notice as he touched you all over. 
"Are you alright?" He touched the arrow that was embedded in your stomach, a look of terror etched on his face. 
"I don't know…" You knew what you looked like. Scared, the two of you had no way of knowing what was going on inside you or if your child was okay. Fear gripped your heart, and you tried not to cry. 
"The two of you look alright to me." Shadowheart looked confused at your words. "Let's get these arrows and thorns out of the two of you, and I'll heal you. It will be like that never happened."
The two of you ignored her and just stared into each other's eyes. You were frozen with fear. Astarion placed his hand on your stomach, making it look like he would pull the arrow free, but he was looking for any sign. Anything that would let him know that the baby was okay that they were alive and well, and the arrow missed him. 
There was nothing, and you saw a look pass across his face. He schooled his features, and you could tell that he was trying to concentrate on something. "I hear it…. I hear their heartbeat." He spoke at a volume that was barely a whisper. "I hear the heartbeat." 
The tears that you were holding back free from your eyes, and you couldn't make them stop. Astarion pressed a kiss to your lips and then one on your forehead. The fear that gripped your heart released, and you grabbed the arrow, pulling it from your body but to have an excuse to hold your stomach. 
The other three exchanged a look of confusion. "The two of you have gotten into worse scraps than that…. I do not see how this is getting such a reaction." Karlach spoke, her voice edged with worry. 
"Yes, well, we always do this when the other gets hurt. Plus, I needed to find out what those arrows were tipped with. I had to give her a full examination." 
Astarion's statement didn't do much to quell their confusion, but they couldn't argue with it very much either. He allowed Shadowheart to pull the needles out only after she healed you first. She did so, and then you and she pulled the hundreds of pins out individually. 
By the time the five of you made camp, the night was falling, and you forgot the tents and instead decided to sleep on the ground since the ruins provided enough cover. The rest of the night was quiet as the others gave you and Astarion a wide berth, not sure what to say after yours and Astarion's weird reaction to you getting shot earlier. 
"That was too close." Astarion came and sat beside you. 
"I know, but we couldn't have known they would attack." 
"We should have assumed someone was here. This place…. It attracts people like that." You took Astarion's hand.
"We'll just have to assume that from now on. We got too comfortable around friends." You looked at the others in the camp, and they all looked away from you, trying to look casual, like they weren't just watching the two of you. 
"I swear these people are so nosy."
"They are concerned that our reactions today were a bit weird for someone who doesn't know what's happening." You looked back to Astarion. "They just care about us."
*tisk* Astarion clicked his tongue. "All this love is making me queasy." He stood up. "Let's go to bed before I get sick." 
You rolled your eyes and took his hand. The two of you made your way back to camp. You pulled a jar of your "wine" from your bag and took a long drag off it so Shadowheart would see. Earlier that day, you snuck over to her tent and found an empty bottle of wine. You quickly snatched it and poured your "wine" into the bottle. She gave you a nod. 
"Glad you're feeling better." She closed the distance. "If you need to talk to someone about anything, don't hesitate." She gave your hand a quick squeeze. "You helped me get free of Shar and helped me find out who I really was. I will help you through anything. You are my friend." 
"I know, and when I'm ready to talk, I will, but now is not the right time." You said as you returned her smile. 
She nodded at your words and looked towards Astarion. "Until you are ready as well."
"I'll be sure to let you know when I'm ready to braid each other's hair and trade this tale, but my lips are sealed for now." 
Shadowheart gave your hand one last squeeze and walked to her bed roll. You and Astarion did the same, lying beside each other with your hands on your stomachs under the covers where the others couldn't see. 
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mecachrome · 1 month
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omg k i just saw ur top 3 landoscar moments post from october 2023... any changes/updates since then? new moments made it onto the list? or if not... favorite moment of 2024 so far? (i just like hearing (reading?) ur thoughts it's like reading an intellectual (but still sappy in my fave way) bedtime story 🥰)
hklsdfhlsfhd naurrr... this is so embarrassing why am i still deeply landoscarpilled 6 months later 😔
but honestly i have been thinking about this and the sheer volume of crasyinsane material and lore we've accrued since last year because now i'm like how would you even begin constructing a top 3....... the possibilities are endless!!!
in terms of pre-october content that i might have missed before, i'd say most of this ask still holds (lando's biggest fan dot mp4 will NEVER lose its insanity to me. quintessential landoscar meta as far as i'm concerned) but now i also desperately need 2 shout out portrait painting challenge...... when it came out i was of course susceptible to the "you look beautiful" bantz though mostly just wrote it off as shipbait and since then i've looked back on this video multiple times and been like ?! why was oscar's deference to lando so insane actually.... i've alr mentioned this b4 but 1) oscar taking lando's intro in stride and immediately responding i am ready lando norris 2) oscar playfully acquiescing and letting lando use purple after he'd already chosen it 3) >like 5 seconds later. "you like purple don't you?" "uhhhh... i can do now" (who says that.) 4) another stunning display of lando Nooticing and fixating on oscar's hair swoop and last but not least 5) the way oscar FOLDS OVER and giggles helplessly when lando tells him i've just done you all pink ??? like. OKAY. cheers
looking @ recent content..... personally i find 814 so fascinating because while there are many Discrete Moments i can point out that make my brain explode i also feel like to some degree the reason we (? or maybe just me. again i apologize for the nonsensical drivel i create) love to make parallel gifsets of them is because they have such an understated dynamic built off many minute unspoken habits and wordless exchanges and essentially Patterns so there is less of like... a need for spontaneous intimacy.... if that makes sense. it's about the consistency of reciprocal comfort... iterations..... palisades palisades......... ok this is totally not related to the ask i've just been rotating it in my mind
anyway 10 personable favs !!! arranged chronologically
finish the lyrics (oct 2023): a deeply obvious one but you can't Not include it 😩 i can't believe this came out a week after i answered that because seriously what da hell. @ OSCAR PIASTRI WHAT IS WRONG WITH YEWWWWWWWW. there are sooooo many things i could mention here that i feel have already been exhaustively expounded, the most obvious of course being the classic ojp Heart Eyes moment(s) (Many such cases......but also specifically the love story one) (like i'd argue silverstone was mostly responsible for getting 814 off the ground BUT this video was when their dynamic became the most "mainstream" and accessible to fandom as a whole... the amount of non-f1 fans i saw qrting reups of that clip!!!!) anyway but then you also get 👉 whatever the inside joke they have about old town road is. oscar saying "i reckon you'd be unreal in a karaoke bar in japan" which i still think is such a Line... just me ??? the way he verryryryyyy softly sings "yes" with lando at the end of their love story karaoke and the insane camera angle of him just out of focus. like. really in general there is just such a soft and lighthearted and Fun air to their dynamic in this video that makes me ;__; AND this is another prime moment of lando narrating oscar's firsts for him (singing on camera at mcl!!!) . ALSAURR lando tapping oscar on the bicep while sarcastically complimenting him. once again for two guys who never touch it compels me... actually i could go on about this video tbh like how oscar nearly falls off the couch giggling at lando playing the songs together and then it cuts to the next one and he's suddenly all flushed and his bangs have gotten all fucked up. he's so... they're so... let's move on.
splunk sim city challenge (nov 2023): many classic lines such as "i haven't even distracted you yet!" + oscar knowing his podium year and lando saying "you're a nerd!" + lando going ":) :o are you okay?" and so on... general setup of this challenge was crasy tbh. how it revolves around disrupting the other person's focus and the visual asymmetry of one being sat higher and having to lean over to distract them and how oscar just giggles goodnaturedly when lando sticks his cue cards in front of his face instead of getting annoyed and—SO ON. also forever obsessed with how oscar wordlessly lifts his eyebrows at lando at the end lol
that one sticker video (nov 2023): this video is insaaAAANEEEE to me. ANYONE ELSE??? first of all oscar and lando gingerly standing across each other on either side of the flower bed (while zak brown assumes a power stance directly on it lmfao) is already so visually overwhelming but then the way oscar glances up as he's removing the sticker from the cap, how you can seeeeee him calculating the move the entire time and being adorably pleased about it, @__@ the way lando grins at him afterward... (also crying at zb glancing at them and being equally charmed by their antics) wahhh TT__TT the vibes of this clip... immaculate
oscar thanking lando in their final post-race message (nov 2023): honestly the entire message in general but :__) one of my fav 814 moments OAT is oscar including lando in his thank you speech and lando not really expecting it and being genuinely touched by the gesture. lando is so endearingly fidgety the entire time honestly and the way he perks up a bit and wrings his hands together and playfully smiles at oscar when he mentions him... okayyy. anyway 2 me it's reminiscent of yes/no challenge "am i the funniest teammate you've ever had?" "(shyly) yeahhh... you're up there" (said in the same baby-ish voice as "so... lando?" UGH. UGHHHH) and how lando genuinely gets a bit awkwardly flustered by it like!!! god. wait ALSO i don't have the space for this so i'm throwing in end of season awards MMMM debatable + how gleefully lando threw oscar under the bus and in general just the incredible expression work going on for both of them during this exchange. God [2]
si rapid fire questions (dec 2023): this video was crucial in determining that oscar... well. is obsessed with accommodating and mirroring lando. many things we already knew (aka listening to whatever music lando listens to; insert prema lap "maybe i should move to an english team because the music's better" moment here) but equally important is oscar "stealing" lando's dinner, how lando presses him on the back to the future question until oscar just changes his answer to his, and of course as you know per my blog title NO I'M GOING TO KEEP YOU HAPPY is in my eyes top 5 most insane things oscar piastri has ever said. likeee... lando showing a bit of jokey remorse over enforcing his rules (don't even get me started about lando and game/challenge rules...) but oscar being sooo determined 2 honor his teasing 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 :melting_face: x100!!!
need to split this into two lists because apparently there's a div character limit 😔 continuing on
hilton spa ad (feb 2024): of course this pained me because of This Moment (specifically lando bringing his hand back down when oscar tried to lift it from beneath him 😮‍💨) but that is neither here nor there. obsessed with the salmon at the engineering table anecdote because the most logical explanation for oscar Not doing that anymore is because lando didn't like it... or he just eats different things now but we already know that he's adopted lando's preferred meal b4 so that's equally a lot 2 digest !!! also >the callback to their one million LOOK AT YOU/HIM moments >how they touch shoulders exactly Once when they sit down and then never again despite lando continuously leaning into oscar's space to get to the button... eugh. also just top tier oscar faces + hair 🥰
opening title behind the scenes (mar 2024): thinking about all the hilarious gifsets of this moment that i ate up deliciously 🧡🧡🧡 this was such a significant reminder of how 814 have just gotten like, exceedingly comfortable around each other & have learned 2 communicate via the most inscrutable expressions and noises and gestures that somehow suit Them perfectly x__x although i doubt they will ever really become ~effusive~ with each it's frankly even more devastating that they both help each other care less about maintaining appearances / how they often get so sucked into their interactions (see next bullet point) that everything else kind of just fades away in that instant.... all right ⚠️⚠️⚠️ maybe that's a bit of a stretch but we can pretend for the rpf lens!!! see also my tag spiel in this beautiful tuva gifset.
photo day antics (mar 2024): do you ever just...... what went on in bahrain. honestly. more from this weekend in a second but this video plus the accompanying photo encapsulate their dynamic so perfectly it makes me scream... how 814 are not only so annoyingly focused on each other all the time but also stand SOOO UNNECESSARILY CLOSE while every other teammate pairing is spaced out normally. yuki and checo glancing at them alksfdhdf 😭 truly so ridiculous that the poor photo person tried to get lando's attention and they pretended to comply for two seconds before oscar was lifting his foot to show lando his boot again. also why did it take oscar a million years to step away from lando and put a more appropriate amount of space between them...?! and even then it was barely that much........... (10 paragraphs of speaking later) I prefer really not to speak.
accidental waist grab (mar 2024): this gave me psychic damage so bad i should be lobotomized. we've already spoken about this perhaps erm excessively but why did lando feel the need to stand JUST as close to him if not closer after they broke apart. there was truly no need...... honestly the way this ship will have us looking up driver cams and staring at esteban ocon's ass as he gets out his car just for a single glimpse of their parc fermé dynamic.
bahrain post-race interview antics (mar 2024): You already knowwwww. the sky sports "he follows me everywhere" moment is equally important but the f1tv interview giving us horrifically natural banter (juxtaposing this with their previous interview moments...), lando's dumb faux australian accent and oscar playing along as always, and most of all them HIJACKING THE INTERVIEW & commiserating on camera together ❓❗️ lichrally the grid photo all over again. often when i have emotions over an 814 moment i worry that i sound overly He_Only_Got_Two_Eyes.jpeg but truly sometimes two people are just objectively insane. plus land of piastri/lando piastri.....
also runner up is the f1tv interview with lawrence aka lando's cooing noise @ oscar discussing lily (anyone else frame by frame color pick oscar's face to see how badly he flushed... no? just me?) + the beautiful self-aware surfacing of the CONTRACTUAL OBLIGATIONS of their relationship...... !!! love when 2 guys expose and confirm their own sincerity in trying to verbally resist it. hem
is this anything. sorry eve LKSFDHLDHSF thank u for the ask & pls lmk what ur fav moments are too 🧡
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fappinreborn · 4 months
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Hey there! I have an idea for the VR Story. Maybe you have a Date with someone you Just matched. She also didn't know she was pregnant, but Your app shows it to you. You say you're going to the bathroom, but in reality you're controlling her pregnancy. Suddenly she is 43 weeks pregnant and you have set the contractions to never happen (of course you can change that after the date) you make her overdue with twins, then triplets. While she didn't even know she was pregnant until now
First of all, not a VR Story (it's an old DA story of mine). Secondly, this is a really interesting premise to work with. I think overdue and multiples aren't feasible here so I'm going for early singles. Third, I try to stray away from dialogue, so you could fill in the words yourself.
Pregnancy Control 3: Date Gone... Right?
One of my regular activities as a young adult is looking for love on the job dating apps. I had been meeting several girls over the years, some ghosted me after the first date, some went along for a month or two before breaking it off, even had one that lasted almost half a year. All the girls I met were fun and interesting, but turns out this one new girl that I'm meeting tonight pales in comparison to all of them.
When I arrived at the apartment to pick her up, the pregnancy control app, as usual flared up to show some pregnant woman near that apartment.... but it also included the girl that I'm going with. I sort of panicked but quickly read through her file.
Apparently she's just barely 6 weeks pregnant but didn't realize she was pregnant yet and the app offered me to control her pregnancy. The app seems to know me so well and have upgraded itself to even give suggestions to make it cryptic pregnancy and when I should stop growing her pregnancy, presumably to make the cryptic pregnancy plausible for her. 'The girl's been sleeping with other men.' I thought to myself.
I was... hesitant at first, wanting to separate my... normal life with my fetish, so I held it off... for now.
I picked up my date, looking fine with her casual T-shirt and jeans and went to a nice restaurant. We sat down, selected our food and talked for a while, getting to know each other. Things were going well, but in the back of my mind, the temptation kept shouting at me until it was too great to ignore.
I excused myself to the bathroom, sat down at the toilet and began activating her pregnancy, tuning her cryptic pregnancy to ~39 weeks and activating her labor, but reducing her contractions pain to 0. Don't want to distrupt the date, after all.
When I came back, I noticed that her belly had grown slightly but she did not notice anything. The date went back to normal until we've finished our food. We... were starting to play with our phone, so I figured it's time for execute the plan.
I made her go into the bathroom and made her water break subtly and let her have mild cramps afterwards. She voiced out her complaints to me, so I decided to take her home, knowing that the date I'm with is actually laboring and is about to deliver a whole baby soon. I helped her get into the car and then ramp up the labor progression. I started the record on the phone and began driving back to her apartment.
I was lowkey worried about her, as her cramps are getting worse and her legs are slowly spreading wide. The baby is fully dilated at this point and is starting the descend. I can hear her moaning in pain like a laboring mother would until all hell finally breaks loose.
We were around... 10 minutes from her apartment when I noticed her tight jeans began to bulge out. She reached down and told me that she felt something hard and round. Another round of cramps, a push and the bulge became more pronounced. She panicked, realizing that the thing coming out of her was none other than a baby. I acted panic in return as she began pushing hard. I quickly parked my car at the side of the road and then ran around to help her out.
I tried to help her, but the legs were too spread out to even pull the jeans off. I cupped the bulge and felt like the head was fully crowning at this point. She decided to go all in, pushing hard until the head popped out of her. With a bit of breathing room, she closed her legs a bit so I can unbutton her jeans off and pulled the pants down before she pushed again and got the baby out with one single push. She embraced the newborn baby in her arms with a mix of disbelief and joy.
I... offered her a ride to the hospital instead and she accepted, so I made a trip to her preferred hospital and dropped her off at the ER. She thanked me for the help with the birth of her child before I went back home...
I hope she's okay now... and I hope we can get more dates with her after this...
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agaypanic · 10 months
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The Fella Part 9 (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)
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Summary: The girls have been waiting for months to see Take That in Belfast. When a polar bear is on the loose and Mary forbids them from going, they have to take matters into their own hands.
A/N: only took a million years but i finally wrote a new part lol BIG thanks to @crumpets-are-better-with-jam for writing out the episode’s script for me, without them I probably would’ve never found the time to be able to write this. Also the word g*psy is censored and used as little as possible because it’s considered a slur but some say that if you say it with the right context it’s ok, but i don’t wanna take any chances, you know?
***
The weekends were always the best part of the week for Y/n. No school or work, no obligations except for church on Sunday, and being able to sleep in late. Y/n wished to be an adult, so her life could be like this every day.
But this was going to be the weekend of all weekends. Months ago, the girls and James scrimped and saved every coin and bill and were able to buy concert tickets to see Take That in Belfast. And today was the day of the concert. The girls sat all squished together on the couch, watching said band on the TV, with James perched on the arm of the sofa, subtly clinging to Y/n. Their relationship was still a secret somehow, today marking their third month together. They were honestly surprised nobody noticed how their affection was more than friendly.
“God Almighty.” Grandpa Joe spoke in horror, glaring at the screen. “I don’t know what the world is coming to. Bloody perverts.”
“You’re overreacting, Da,” Mary said from the kitchen. Joe scoffed in disbelief.
“Overreacting? That lad’s got no trousers on, for Christ’s sake.” Michelle grinned at the detail that had been pointed out.
“He’s wearing too much still, if I’ve anything to say about it.” She muttered to the girls, who giggled apart from James and Clare.
“Why do they keep touching themselves?” Grandpa Joe asked the telly, as if it would provide any answers.
“‘Cause they’re artists, Granda,” Erin said, but he just grumbled.
“Dirty English bastards is what they are.” He turned to look at James. “No offense, son.” Although he didn’t really sound like he cared whether or not he had offended the boy. Y/n patted James’ thigh in comfort as the scene on the TV changed from the girls’ beloved boy band to a news anchor. 
“Come on, girls. Time to hit the road here.” Gerry announced as he came in. He gestured at James. “Have they roped you into going as well, son?” Y/n laughed, leaning against James to look at her father.
“Hardly. He’s practically riding Gary Barlow. Aren’t ya, Jamie?” He rolled his eyes at the statement, as if they had had this kind of conversation a hundred times.
“I’m not! I just respect him as a songwriter, that’s all.” Michelle rolled her eyes at him, as if she had also had this kind of conversation a hundred times.
“Aye, dead on, James, so you do.”
“Will we need our passports, Gerry?” Orla asked, giving her lungs a break from blowing on her mother’s spray tan.
“For Belfast? I don’t think so, Love.”
“Belfast?” Joe asked, but was ignored.
“Are we not a bit early, Daddy?” Erin asked, checking the time on the wall.
“It’s a two-hour drive with traffic, love.”
“This thing’s in Belfast?” Sick of not being acknowledged, Grandpa Joe stood from his favorite chair to stand with the girls and Gerry.
“Da, it’s eight hours till the doors open,” Y/n said, almost laughing at her father’s sense of urgency.
“I know. We’re cutting it fine.” He seemed completely serious about the matter, which just made Y/n want to laugh more.
“Belfast?” Joe said again, now effectively catching the room’s attention. “Sure, why didn’t you just sell the wains into white slavery and be done with it?”
“Gerry will be with them, Da.” Mary tried to reason, but that just seemed to set him off even more.
“Well, that’s worse. Sure, they hate his kind there.”
“My kind?” Gerry asked, not knowing what Joe could possibly be talking about.
“Pricks.” Y/n laughed, shrinking in her seat when Gerry whipped around to look at his daughter in offense. “Sorry, Daddy.”
“That is enough!” Mary finalized, still working in the kitchen. “They’re going to the concert, Da, and that’s the end of the matter.”
The news switched to another topic again. Something about how a polar bear escaped from Belfast Zoo. Hearing the name, Y/n started to worry.
“Now, will you see sense?” Grandpa Joe asked his daughter, pointing at the TV. Erin snorted.
“Aye, Granda, ‘cause an escaped polar bear’s gonna track us down and kill us. As if Mammy’s bothered by that.” There was a beat of silence, and suddenly, all the girls were panicked.
“Wise up, Mammy!” Y/n squealed frantically, shooting up from her seat on the couch to get a good look at her mother. “As if a polar bear’s gonna rock up a Take That concert!”
“He wouldn’t get a ticket for a start,” Orla added. “They sold out months ago.”
“You’d be surprised, girls,” Mary said.
“The concert’s nowhere near the zoo.” Gerry tried to reason. As usual, Joe countered him.
“But he’s not in the zoo anymore, is he, Simple Simon? He’s sauntering about Belfast without a care in the world!”
“Aye, keep up, Gerry,” Sarah said, blowing on the wet tan that coated her fingers. 
“What I’m saying is that it would be quite a lot of ground for him to cover.”
“They’re quick on their feet when they wanna be, love,” Mary said. Y/n sped to her father, grabbing him by the shoulders to make him face her.
“Daddy, please, don’t listen to her.” She pleaded. “We should go now so we’re not late. Please, Da!” Gerry put his hands on his daughter’s wrists, rubbing his thumbs over the joints while giving her a sympathetic look.
“Oh, love, I’m sorry, but I’d rather keep my head.”
“Come on, Mary.” Michelle pleaded with the girl’s mother. “If you don’t let Y/n and Erin go, then our ma’s won’t let us go.”
“Well, neither they should, and I’ll be ringing them to say as much.” The teens looked at Mary in despair as she went to the phone, likely to ring everyone’s mothers. While dialing, Mary looked back to the living room. “Look, girls, I know how much you were looking forward to seeing This and That.”
“Take That.” Erin corrected.
“But there’ll be other concerts.” Y/n laughed humorlessly, resting her head on her father’s shoulder momentarily before letting go of him completely. 
“No, there won’t.” She felt hysterical. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Months of looking forward to this concert just to be banned by her mother because of a polar bear. Only something like this would happen to her. “The fact that this one’s happening is a miracle ‘cause no one good comes here ‘cause we all keep killing each other!” James shifted on the arm of the couch to make room for Y/n to sit next to him. He rubbed her back as she leaned against him for support, devastated.
“And now we’re overrun with polar bears.” Sarah sighed, pulling out a cig.
Frustrated, Y/n stormed up to her room, the girls and James close behind. They had found her face down on her bed, screaming into a pillow. James sat beside her, pulling the pillow out of her grasp before she could suffocate herself. While everyone settled in Y/n’s room, she rested her head on James’ thigh. Her anger and sadness were slowly washing away from James rubbing her back.
“This is so fucking unfair.” She muttered.
“I know,” James responded, brushing hair out of her face.
“Well, I dunno about you lot, but I’m not letting that fat furry fuck ruin the biggest day of my life,” Michelle announced harshly, pacing the floor.
“What can we do?” Erin asked, lying across her sister’s legs.
“Right, listen, girls.” Michelle drew their attention. They hoped that she had come up with a plan to save the day, but were quickly let down. “I’ve never told anyone this before, but… sometimes, when Robbie’s being interviewed, it’s like he’s sending me messages through the TV. You know, like telepathically or whatever, It’s like he’s saying…” She sighed, clearly in a dreamy daze. “We’re meant to be together.”
Everyone stared at her.
“Aye, maybe don’t tell that to anyone again, Michelle,” Erin said. “Ever.”
“I think she might be more cracked than Orla,” Y/n muttered to James, who snorted.
“What?” Orla looked at Y/n after hearing her name.
“Nothing, love.”
“Look, this is too important,” Michelle said. “I’m going to that concert. I’m not afraid of a fucking polar bear!” Everyone enthusiastically agreed. They shouldn’t pay mind to a random bear or what their parents have to say about anything. Nothing would stop the girls and James from seeing Take That.
“I’ll kill it with me own two hands, if I have to.” Orla declared. 
“Bring it on!” Erin egged on.
“Okay. We seem to have gone down a weird road here, people. I think we just got a bit confused.” Ever the realist and anxiety-riddled girl, Clare tried stopping her friends from the odd discussion. “We don’t actually have to fight a polar bear, and if we did, I wouldn’t fancy our chances because, well, they’re massive.” Orla looked around, confused.
“But there’s six of us.”
“Aye, I think we’d have a real chance,” Y/n said, albeit slightly sarcastically.
“The point is, the polar bear’s not the one stopping us from going to the concert. It’s our mothers, and we’ll never get them to change their minds.” Y/n gasped, sitting up suddenly, seeming to have an idea.
“So we fight Mammy.”
“No, definitely not.” James shot down the idea immediately and welcomed his once again pouty girlfriend to rest in his lap. Michelle leaned toward the group like she was gonna tell them a secret.
“We’re not gonna try and change their minds.” She smirked, and everyone became slightly fearful because Michelle always had less than bright ideas that she’d have them execute. “We’re gonna do something else.” 
“What?” James asked.
***
“I’m still trying to figure out whether or not this is a good idea,” Y/n muttered to James, who she clung to while sitting on his lap. Michelle had somehow convinced everyone to sneak away and get on a bus to Belfast. The group sat in the back of the bus to avoid anyone who may be suspicious of six teenagers traveling by themselves. There wasn’t enough seating for all six of them to sit together, so everyone squished together, and Y/n sat on James’ lap. No one said anything about it besides the comment from Michelle about how James must be giddy to be so close to a girl. He told her to fuck off.
“Same here.” He sighed, hands gripping her closer as the bus crossed a few bumps on the road.
“We’re gonna get caught; I just know it,” Clare said anxiously to the group.
“We’re not gonna get caught, Clare, because as far as our ma’s are concerned, me, you, and James are ’round Erin’s, and Erin, Y/n, and Orla are ’round mine,” Michelle explained, trying to calm Clare down.
“But we’re not ’round yours, Michelle,” Orla responded, confused. “We’re on the bus to Belfast.” 
“Christ.” Y/n rolled her eyes, having heard her cousin say this multiple times since they left the house.
“I cannot explain it to her again. I’m gonna scream.” Michelle looked away from Orla, probably because she would strangle her if she had to deal with the confusion for another second.
“What’s in the suitcase, Michelle?” James asked, staring at the case his cousin had set on the remaining seat near the group. Y/n could’ve sat there, but Michelle wanted a close eye on whatever was in the suitcase without holding it in case they got caught. Everyone stared, curiously waiting for an answer. There was a beat of silence.
“Vodka.” You brought an entire suitcase full of vodka?” Erin asked incredulously.
“Jesus, Michelle, you’ve got a problem,” Y/n added.
“No. There’s mixers as well. I’m not a savage.” Michelle took a second to think, looking down at the case. “You can mix vodka with cider, right?”
“God, I am boiling.” Clare sighed, fanning her face.
“Gee, I wonder why, Clare.” Y/n laughed, looking at her friend who was completely bundled in jackets and scarves.
“What are you wearing?” Erin asked.
“Yeah, you look like a fucking Provo.”
“I don’t want anyone recognizing me, okay?” The bus paused its venture, opening the doors for people to come in and out.
“No one’s gonna recognize you, Clare.” Michelle chastised.
“Clare Devlin, is that you?” Panic ran through everyone. The voice sounded very familiar and fear-inducing. The girls looked towards the front. Sister Michael was moving past the seats and right for them.
“Jesus Christ.” Clare squeaked, trying to hide in her mountain of clothes. Erin leaned into her.
“Relax, Clare.” She said. “She has no authority over us at the weekend. She has no right to question us, and if she tries to, I’ll tell her as much.”
“Aye, I’d like to see you try, Erin.” Y/n hissed to her sister before Sister Michael reached the group.
“Morning, girls.” She said.
“Morning, Sister Michael.” Everyone said in unison.
“What takes you to Belfast?” There was a heavy pause. The girls were silently trying to decide who would speak and what they would say. Erin volunteered herself, speaking quietly from nervousness.
“I’m not really sure that’s-”
“Speak up.” Sister Michael interrupted her. Erin gulped.
“I’m not really sure that that’s any of your business…” Sister Michael stared blankly at her. Everyone waited for her to jump and murder Erin for saying such a thing. Soon, she found words.
“I’m going to assume that was an ill-judged attempt at humor, Miss Quinn.”
“Yes,” Erin whispered, sinking into her seat. Y/n silently prayed that the bus would start moving so Sister Michael would be forced to leave and find a seat somewhere. But God never seemed too kind to the girls.
“Now, answer the question.”
“... We’re going to the museum.” Erin devised a good lie; the girls just hoped they could keep up with the inevitable follow-up questions.
“Which museum?”
“Ulster Museum,” Clare answered.
“What for?”
“A project,” James responded.
“A history project.” Y/n amended. Sister Michael looked at the two. It seemed like she was about to ask why Y/n was in James’ lap, but she decided against it, not wanting to go through the trouble.
“What about?”
“Ulster,” Erin answered once again. Sister Michael gave an unconvinced hum and turned around to find a place to sit. Everyone sighed in relief as the bus started to move again.
“A history project,” Clare said in disbelief. “This web of lies we’re spinning is getting out of control now, girls.” Y/n put a hand on her friend’s shoulder to take her attention.
“If it makes you feel any better, Clare, I actually have a history project due soon.”
“I thought we finished that,” James said quietly to her. She turned to him.
“Yeah, but now I’ve gotta put it all together.”
“It’s grand, Clare,” Michelle said, rolling her eyes at Clare’s constant anxiousness. “I think she bought it.”
“Of course, she didn’t buy it. She’s onto us, I’m telling you. Oh God, I’m sweltering here.”
“Then take it off,” Erin said.
“I can’t take it off; I’ve nothing underneath it.” Everyone paused, looking at her confused.
“What, not even a bra?” Erin asked.
“Jesus, Clare, you’ve no bra on?” Michelle asked incredulously.
“I haven’t got a bra on,” Orla commented.
“Aye, me neither,” Y/n said.
“What?” James practically choked. Suddenly aware of his girlfriend’s body and this new information, he moved his hands down to sit at her hips. Y/n shrugged.
“They dig.”
“What’s she doing now?” Clare asked, and everyone looked at Sister Michael, who sat a few rows ahead of them. She was reading a book, laughing every now and then.
“Reading her book,” James answered, as if they all couldn’t see it. She suddenly turned to the woman in the seat next to her. She had a look of disgust while the woman ate a sandwich. “Now she’s looking at the woman beside her.” Sister Michael stood from her seat. “Now she’s getting up.” She moved towards the back of the bus, closing in on the girls. “Now she’s coming this way.” Soon enough, Sister Michael stood before the group, staring at them. “Now she’s standing right in front of us.”
“What’s he doing?” Sister Michael asked, looking weirdly at James.
“Now she’s-” James’ words were halted by Y/n putting a finger to his lips.
“Stop narrating, Jamie.”
“I want to sit here.” Sister Michael said with finality, pointing to where Michelle’s suitcase sat. Michelle started to panic.
“What? Why?”
“Well, you’re just such wonderful company, girls, what with your stimulating conversation and razor-sharp wit.” Everyone knew she was being sarcastic. Except for Erin.
“Really?” She asked, seemingly flattered. Sister Michael rolled her eyes.
“No, not really. The woman next to me is eating an egg and onion sandwich, and the smell is enough to turn an Orange March.” The girls cringed at the description. Sister Michael grabbed the suitcase, trying to move it. But she was evidently struggling. “Christ, but this is heavy.”
“Sister, no, let me,” Michelle said, leaning over to grab the case.
“What do you have in here, girls?”
“It’s not ours!” Clare quickly responded with a shriek. Everyone glared at her lie.
“Not yours?”
“We have never seen it before in our lives, have we, girls?” It was better to just agree, so that’s what the girls did. They nodded, giving different mutters of confirmation. 
Sister Michael turned to look at everyone else on the bus.
“Excuse me, everyone. Can I have your attention, please?” She raised her voice to get everyone to listen. Confused, the passengers looked at her while she pointed to Michelle’s suitcase. “Does anyone own this red suitcase?” No one claimed it. “Now, let me be clear. No one can claim this bag, is that correct?” Everyone confirmed her question. She looked down at the suitcase. “I think we have a Code Red on our hands. Driver, pull over!”
***
The girls were definitely fucked. Everyone had to evacuate the bus while they waited for the military to come and extract the suitcase. Now, a crowd watched as a military robot examined the case.
“Jesus Christ!” Clare squeaked in a panic.
“Aye, this isn’t great,” Erin said, watching the commotion. Michelle shrugged.
“It’s not that big a deal.”
“They’re about to blow up an entire suitcase of vodka, Michelle.” 
As Michelle and Erin quietly argued, Y/n leaned into James’ ear.
“And here I thought Clare’s paranoia would be our biggest problem.” James rested his head on Y/n’s, eyeing the situation in front of him in disbelief.
“Why is this place so mental?” He asked. Michelle scoffed.
“That’s enough, James. You have serious fucking anger management issues. Do you know that?” Before anyone could give a rebuttal, there was an explosion. The robot had successfully eliminated the threat in the red suitcase, which was the girls’ ticket to a good time.
There were lots of talks among the soldiers over the radio. The girls silently celebrated when one said they could pack everything up. Soon enough, they’d be back on the way to Belfast.
“Powerful smell of vodka down here, over.” The girls froze in their places as they heard the soldier over the radio. God really did seem to have it out for the teens.
“Vodka, did he say?” Sister Michael asked, slowly turning to her students. “Interesting.” The girls gave her nervous smiles. Suddenly, Y/n pointed over Sister Michael’s shoulder.
“Oh my God, Sister! What’s over there?!” Sister Michael whipped around, and Y/n made a break for it. All of her friends followed after her. 
They ran like hell, not knowing where they were going. After a while of wandering around, they slowed to a walk down a dirt road, all trying to catch their breath. The girls debated whether or not they could reach Belfast on foot, especially with that polar bear on the loose. But the conversation dwindled as some men came into view on the side of the road.
“Is it just me, or is that g*psy an absolute ride?”
“As usual, I think it’s just you, Michelle,” Y/n said, groaning at her sore legs.
“Michelle, you cannot say that.” Erin scolded.
“What?”
“They’re called ‘travelers now. Y’can’t say ‘g*psy’ anymore. It’s insulting.”
“Okay, but you just said it, Erin.” Y/n pointed out. Michelle and Erin continued arguing over the correct word to use for the men. It continued for a while, and only stopped when they had gotten closer to the men.
“Howya, girls.” One of them said, with a bit of a slurred speech. The girls politely greeted him and continued walking. They got a few feet past them when the one who greeted them started calling after them. “Hey, hold on.”
“What does he want?” Clare asked in a panic.
“I don’t know,” Erin replied, just as nervous.
“I’m talking to you!” The man shouted. The girls ignored him, but he kept walking after them. “Hey, are you deaf or what?”
“Just keep going.” Y/n urged her friends, grabbing James’ hand to yank him along while she pushed her tired body to go faster. The teens started walking more quickly, and soon enough, the shouting man and his friends were all tailing after them. 
“Get back here!”
“Faster. Walk faster.”
“Am I gonna have to come after you, am I?”
“Jesus Christ, he’s following us,” James muttered, now being the one to pull Y/n further.
“Run!” Y/n yelped, breaking into a sprint and out of James’ grip because the sudden change in pace had caught him off guard. Everyone ran after her, the teens to catch up with Y/n and the travelers to catch up with the teens. The girls were terrified, except for Orla, of course, who could always find the fun in a fucked up situation.
“Piss off!” Erin went to the edge of the dirt road and came back to the strange men waving a giant stick around. They backed up in alarm, and the girls stopped to stand behind Erin.
Except for Y/n, who was still running like hell. James yelled for her, but she couldn’t hear him over the thumping of her feet and heart. She didn’t even notice that her friends had all been left in the dust behind her.
“Jesus fuck!” Y/n screeched when she was grabbed suddenly by the shoulders and yanked back into someone’s chest. The person who caught her breathed heavily, slightly using her as a crutch. Y/n immediately recognized the whines and groans of exhaustion and smacked the man in the arm. “Scared the fuck out of me, James.”
“I know, ‘m sorry.” James brought her closer to him, back pressed against his chest as he rubbed her arms up and down to comfort her. “Can’t run off like that, love. Could’ve lost you.”
“Sorry.” She apologized sheepishly, and James kissed her head to show she shouldn’t be. When the couple regained strength, they turned around and started walking back to the group that was currently arguing with the strange couple of men when they abruptly ran to the side of the dirt road. A van sped past them as if they weren’t even there, honking the horn and stopping in front of the stand-off of travelers and teenage girls. Y/n and James hesitantly watched, not knowing what was happening.
Soon, Erin stuck her head out from behind the van so her sister was in her view. She waved her over frantically.
“Y/n, come on!” Erin then disappeared, likely into the strange van. Knowing everyone else was probably in there, and not wanting to be left stranded, Y/n broke out into another sprint, leaving James in the dust once again.
“Not again.” He mumbled.
***
When Y/n had snuck away from her family and hopped on a bus to Belfast with her friends, she obviously didn’t expect the bus plan to go to shit, and she and her buddies would be riding around in someone’s van. Yet here she was, jostling around in the back, surrounded by half-assed Take That shirts. Erin was trying to converse with the driver; Rita was apparently her name. Meanwhile, Michelle hogged a cardboard cut-out of Robbie Williams, and Clare and Orla were sifting through all the different merchandise.
“Robie?” Clare said to herself as she held up one of the shirts to look at before frantically digging through the rest of the boxes. In the driver’s seat, Rita seemed to have some type of drunken meltdown. Clare turned to Y/n, panicked like always. “Y/n, what are we gonna do?”
“Pray.”
“She’s spelt ‘Robbie’ wrong on every single t-shirt.”
“Huh?” 
“How are we gonna break it to her?” Y/n snorted. That was not what she expected her dear friend to be worried about.
“Clare, we’re being driven around by some crazy tipsy woman, and I bet she doesn’t even know which direction Belfast is in. And yet you’re worried about a spelling mistake?”
“I find it disturbing.”
“I find your priorities disturbing.” Rita continued talking in her drunken, weepy state, leading to another discussion between Erin and Michelle about the correct label to use for the intimidating men they had run into.
But everything was cut short by the van ramming into something, causing everyone to jerk forward. There was a moment of silence as everyone tried to figure out what had just happened.
“Jesus Christ.” Michelle groaned, rubbing her head as she sat up.
“What was that?” Erin asked no one in particular.
“Did we hit something?” 
Orla opened the sliding door of the van and stuck her head out. Everyone heard a gasp of both surprise and delight.
“Oh my God, it’s the polar bear!” The sentence made everyone, excluding Rita, who smoked her cigarette in the driver’s seat, jump out of the van and surround the body. 
“Orla, this is not a bloody polar bear.” Y/n sneered, looking down at the dead sheep that lay before her feet. Everyone slowly looked over at her.
“You’re soundin’ like James,” Michelle said in slight disgust.
“Shut up.”
“Get it shifted, girls!” Rita commanded from the van, taking another drag. Reluctantly, the girls grabbed the sheep carcass and tried carrying it to the side of the road to clear their path. There was a lot more struggling than they intended.
“Why’s it so heavy?” Erin said with a strained voice. “Aren’t they meant to be ninety percent wool?”
“Just put your back into it. The sooner this is done, the sooner we’re back in the van and on our way to see Robbie.”
“Shut it about Robbie, Michelle!” Y/n groaned, trying to pull the sheep. There was much more arguing, and after a very short while, the girls decided they were officially over this task.
“Fuck this!” Michelle shouted. “Let’s just make James do it, the lazy bastard!” Everyone dropped the sheep on the ground and waited for James to do all the work.
But he never did. It was just the girls on an empty road with a dead sheep and a crazy woman. 
“Wh… Where is James?” Clare asked, looking around, hoping he’d suddenly pop out of a bush or something. 
Y/n thought long and hard. She might have been the last one to be with James. Backtracking to her last known moments with James, Y/n gasped and raised a hand to her mouth. The girls looked at her expectantly, waiting to find out where he was. Her response was an embarrassed and horrified whisper.
“I left him with the travelers.”
***
It took much persuasion, mainly for Michelle, but the girls had gotten Rita to go back for James. It was primarily the revelation that James was the one who had the concert tickets. After a long drive, the van skidded to a stop in front of the traveler’s stands of vegetables and fruits. James was among the men, helping them. Y/n yanked the van door open, relieved that her boyfriend hadn’t been mugged or stranded or something else of the sort.
“James!” She yelled in delight, immediately catching his attention. He grinned but stayed stuck in his place.
“What are you playing at? Get in the van, fucko.” Michelle commanded, less thrilled to see James than Y/n was. The man who first chased the girls put a hand on James’ shoulder.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, James.”
“With all due respect, this has nothing to do with you.”
“Yeah!” Y/n added, desperately waiting for her boyfriend to get into the van.
“The way you treat this fella, it’s disgraceful.” The traveler reprimanded.
“Fucking excuse me?” Y/n felt beyond insulted.
“What’s going on, James?” Michelle asked.
“Jonjo and the lads…” James looked at said lads with a smile. “They just get me. And it turns out, I’m a really good salesman.”
“He’s a natural,” Jonjo said.
“So, what, you’re a g*psy now?” Michelle asked, clearly thinking this was an unfunny prank.
“Traveler.” Erin and Y/n corrected in unison, Erin louder than her sister.
“Actually, g*psy’s fine,” Jonjo said. Michelle smirked, finally being able to prove to Erin that she was right. Rita yelled at everyone to hurry up, and Michelle nodded.
“Right, get in the van, come on. And do not test me ’cause we’ve already missed PJ and Duncan.”
“Is that who was supporting them?” Clare asked. When confirmed, she pouted. “Oh, I really like them!”
“I’m not leaving, Michelle,” James said with finality.
Y/n sighed, stepping out of the van. The tense gaze James had for his cousin softened when his girlfriend walked up to him.
“Not even for Gary Barlow, Jamie?” Y/n knew she made the right move because now James looked unsure of himself.
“I don’t really rate him as a, as a songwriter, y’know?” Jonjo said. The horrified look James suddenly had painted on his face made Y/n smile, both because she knew that the girls would now be leaving with him and because he looked so adorable. 
James took off his fanny pack and handed it to Jonjo in disappointment, refusing to make eye contact.
“I’m sorry, Jonjo, but you’ve just crossed the line there.” 
Y/n wrapped an arm around James’ back and guided his sad self to the van, where the door was just behind them. She brought him to the back of the van so he could mope a bit in peace. The girls all talked excitedly amongst themselves about the concert.
“I’m sorry I stranded you,” Y/n said quietly, moving her hand down James’ back to squeeze his hand. He squeezed it back and smiled softly down at her.
“I’m just glad you came back.”
“Of course, I came back. You have the concert tickets.” James shoved Y/n away and couldn’t hide the growing grin from hearing her laugh. “Kidding, kidding.”
After a long drive, long lines, and a big fight to get to the barricade, the Derry girls were finally able to enjoy Take That in all its glory. They screamed the lyrics, jumped to the beat, and danced all together in excitement. They didn’t care about the consequences when they would get home to their parents, who were probably worried sick. They didn’t worry about how they’d get home that night. All that mattered was that they were currently in the presence of one of their favorite bands of all time.
Somewhere in the middle of the set, the excitement winded down a bit as a piano intro played. Y/n squealed, tugging on James’ sleeve, as she recognized what was dubbed as her and James’ song, A Million Love Songs. James grinned at her excitement.
“Oh my God! I have something for you!” Y/n exclaimed over the music, digging around in her pockets. James looked down curiously as she brought out a folded piece of paper. “If it’s bad, you’re not allowed to make fun of me.”
“What is it?” James leaned down so he was closer to eye level with Y/n, making her blush. She pinched the edge of the paper, creasing it a bit.
“Do you remember when Erin became magazine editor, and we were going through those essays and… and Michelle found mine?” James nodded, remembering the day clearly because he was devastated when he heard the title of her little essay. “Well, I figured, since it’s our third month together and all… I wanted to give it to you.” He was gentle when taking the paper from her, so incredibly curious about what she had written. “Especially since my fancy isn’t so one-sided as I thought.”
All Y/n could focus on was the beautiful song in the background and the beautiful boy in front of her, reading words that had come straight from her heart when she thought her love for James was just a hopeless crush. She didn’t know if it was a good sign, seeing him become more flustered and blushy as he read on. When he was finished, he slowly and carefully folded the paper back up while Take That started to play a more energetic song.
“Again, you can’t make fun of me if it’s bad!” Y/n shouted over the noise. “I know Erin’s the writer or whatever, but- oof!” She was interrupted by James pulling her to his chest, arms wrapped tight around her and face buried in the crook of her neck. She immediately returned the affections. 
“It’s amazing.” He said in her ear. “Amazing, and lovely, and perfect. Just like the girl who wrote it.” Unable to help herself, Y/n brought James’ face to hers and kissed him with such passion, a passion he reciprocated instantly. It was as if it was only them existing at that moment.
Of course, it wasn’t. Clare would later tease and squeal at the two and interrogate them about when they had finally gotten together and why they didn’t tell her. Too enamored with the men just feet away from them, the rest of the girls didn’t even notice the couple.
And somewhere in Derry, while the rest of her family was fighting, Y/n’s father Gerry smiled fondly at his television where he saw his daughter having the time of her life at a Take That concert with her best friends and boyfriend. A boyfriend he’d absolutely be asking her about in private when he had the chance.
~~~
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1-ker0sene-1 · 4 months
Text
The Dead Do Talk
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish / Reader
(Wheelchair User Reader)
Chap1, Chap2, Chap3, Chap4
"Afternoon Traffic"
Word Count: 4.4k
CW: guns
Just like you told Johnny. You left with him. The two of you loaded as much as you could from the store into the truck outside. Taking the keys from Marvins back pocket. As much as you were cautious of living around another person suddenly, you were giving Johnny your trust. He has done nothing but help and defend you after all. Stubborn as you could be, you knew you needed him. But fuck was that terrifying.
Here you were in the passenger, a map in your lap as you two were trying to figure out where to go. Narrowing it down to the mountains or the coast, having the sea at your back could be useful. But going up in the woods would also have benefits, no city means less corpses. The woods mean hunting grounds, maybe fresh water. Indecision was a seemingly permanent ache in your brain.
You fold the map and drop it on the dash with a sigh. Letting your eyes drift over to John, in the driver seat, blue eyes on the road. His hand taps the armrest, before gripping the leather. As if keeping himself from mindlessly reaching over.
"Ye alright lass?"
He asks. You sigh a bit softer at his concern. Nodding, but realizing he's still looking forward you open your mouth to explain.
"Yeah. .. Yeah I'm fine. Just.. Figuring out our options.."
You mumble.
You watch Johnny purse his lips in thought, before his teeth scrape at his lower lip. Brows furrowing. Speaking up after a moments consideration.
".. Ye think 'da militarys still goin'?"
He asks. Making you frown quietly, looking forward at the road. Hand lifting to grip at your own dog tags.
"There used to be broadcasts.. Channels on the radio.. they went silent two weeks ago."
Johnny's jaw sets and his eyes look lost, your stomach flips watching him. It's like watching someone go through grief, the way his brows upturn, before pressing down hard in frustration. You suck in a breath before speaking again.
".. Doesn't mean it's gone.. they could be held up in older bases. .. Underground even.. maybe the frequencies can't get through."
You offer the possibility. Before staring at his tags.
".. You got a team huh?"
You guess.
He nods slowly, you see his arms tense. His fist clenches. You can't tell if it's anger, or an intense wave of sorrow.
"Did. They left me bon."
The words make your head tilt, you know the feeling of abandonment all too well.
"You.. Don't know for sure."
You try to comfort.
"You were shot in the head John.. Two months ago you probably still needed the machines. I don't know how anyone could have gotten you out. The door was barricaded right?"
{A/N:.. It was Simon.}
John takes a glance your way, taking in a quick uneven breath as he nods. You continue.
".. Maybe.. They were trying to come back for you."
Your words stir something deep in his brain, his head aches and his chest twists firmly at the thought. Then where the fuck were they? Was the 141 even alive?
He parts his lips to speak but beeping interrupts him, his eyes look down to the display of the truck. The sickly yellow light taunting him in irregular flashes. This was the last thing they needed right now, struggling for gas.
"Gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me.."
He growls seeing the low gas light. You groan and press your head back into the seat.
"Best luck to the worst in one day."
You mutter under your breath.
John had pulled the truck on the side of the road as soon as you two saw some other cars. There was a siphon in the back, Marvin must have been getting gas from the neighborhood each night. You've been driving for hours anyways.
"Let's take a break.. just to get our heads on straight."
You suggest. And he seems to agree, nodding lightly. Popping open the passenger door, you swing your legs to the side of the seat.
Johnny glances at the back of your head, before pushing open the drivers door, taking the keys and getting out.
"Ye wan' your chair hen?"
You shake your head and wave him off, no point in getting out if you're going to be staying around the truck anyways.
"How many nicknames you gonna give me Sargeant?"
You joke with a raised brow, he pushes his tongue on the inside of his cheek and let's out a breathy laugh, shaking his head.
"Habit."
He brushes off.
As Johnny gets the siphon, you hold your rifle in your lap. Watching as he kneels next to a small sedan left abandoned on the street. Keeping watch you glance around, it really was like a dead zone out here. Nothing but remnants of what the world used to be. Your eyes lock on a corpse down the road, dragging it's body on the ground. It's lower half crushed, near flattened, clearly ran over. You sigh at the sight lifting the rifle to aim. Johnny looks up at you.
"See somethin'?"
He asks. You shake your head.
"Just a dead one.. dragging along."
You watch it in your scope, it's face. One of an older woman, wrinkles and white curls. Her eyes are greyed over, you wonder how much of that was from before she turned. It's when you catch sight of the ring around her finger do you tear your eyes away. Lowering the scope. You turn your head and see John still looking at you.
"Not a threat.."
You tell him quietly.
That being the only corpse around, you rest the gun down on the seat next to you.
"Any luck on gas?"
Johnny groaned and shook his head.
"Barely anythin' in this one.. I'll have ta check tha van over there lass."
You nod in understanding.
"I'll keep my eye out. Go on."
He glances at the van, but seems hesitant to leave you in the truck. Picking up the siphon and gas can, he gives you a nod of affirmation and walks a few yards away to it. Across the street now. He knows you're not helpless, fuck you were fending just fine before you found him. But still. Now knowing what it was like in the world? Staying close to the one person who seemed to have his back felt like the right idea. He needed you, he wasn't lying when he said it at that store.
While he was off getting gas, you peek into the duffel he packed at the store. While you were food and water focus, Johnny seemed to be focused on supplies. A good balance between the two of you. You search the bag quietly, thinking of how to use the cheap, but fairly sturdy looking, tools and supplies. You throw your brows up when you find a battery powered shaver, didn't exactly seem like a necessity. Pulling it from the packaging, you find that there's already two round batteries inside.
You look up hearing John's footsteps coming back to you, you hold up the shaver and tilt your head.
"Planning on losing the beard?"
You questioned. To which he chuckles, putting down the gas canister and dusting off his hands.
"Aye, not really my style bon. I got a signature look-"
He says with a lazy grin.
You quirk a brow at him.
"A signature?"
"Mhm, a mowhawk."
Johnny says seriously, coming over to gently take the shaver from your hands. Clicking it on. You laugh and lean back a little, to which he blinks at you and crosses his arms with a smirk.
"Somethin' funny lass?"
You stop laughing and tilt your head, mouth opening after a moment.
"Oh god, you're serious? A mowhawk?"
"Aye."
"Shaving before the drive?"
You hum, leaning up comfortably against the truck door to watch him. Johnny nods, leaning against the truck next to you. Guiding the shaver over his chin and jaw. Took a little while, but he got it down to a nice scruff. Much more tame and you could see his skin clearer. Revealing a jagged small scar under his lower lip and just above his chin.
"Starin' hen?"
He quips, making you crack a smile and roll your eyes.
"You just look different is all."
You mumble. But notice his struggle at getting a good angle on shaving his head. Right.. the scar on his temple must be sensitive, hard to work around. You wave him over, reaching out to take the shaver into your hand again.
"Mowhawk right? Cmere John."
You offer.
Didn't take too much convincing, Johnny now standing between your legs. Sitting in the high truck giving you some height on the man, you could easily get the right angles. Placing a hand on the side of his head you guide the shaver through his hair, down the back of his head till the very end. Going the same in strips, getting rid of the tangled mess of the sides. You were careful around those sore stitches, fingertips grazing over the scar as you pull the shaver away each time he winces. Mumbling a few quiet apologies. The interaction is overall a near silent one, you're too focused, not wanting to hurt the scottish man. Johnny is just looking up at you through his lashes. A hand on the seat next to where you sat.
You pull back completely when you're satisfied, a thick mowhawk going down his head. Sides neatly buzzed down to a reasonable cut. It was close to winter so you left just enough fuzz on his head beside the thick strip. You brush off any of the dark brown hair from your legs.
"Well look at that.. you look a little less terrible than I thought-"
You joke with a wide smile. Making Johnny roll his eyes with a grunt.
"I'll have ye know- recruits shivered in fear seein' this hawk-"
"Oh I'm sure Sargeant."
He opens his mouth to quip back, but catches himself with a hard wince. The throbbing coarsed through his skull, letting out a tight breath as he clenched his fist on the seat next to you. Watching him you set the shaver aside.
"Easy soldier. Your meds should be around here somewhere.."
You mutter quietly, the last part mostly to yourself as you rifle through the bag. Johnny still standing in front of you.
"Dinnae worry bon-"
"Johnny, you lugged me around the entire trip. The least I can do is grab you a couple of pills."
Maybe it's your stern tone or maybe it's that having somebody care about his well being is what he needed right now. But he shuts his mouth and lets you search for the pain killers, glancing over at the road to check for any threats. He sees the corpse you mentioned, dragging along closer to them. Barely a yard closer than when you were looking. Wasn't a threat. By the time he looks back to you, you're holding a couple of white pills and a plastic water bottle out to him.
"Let these kick in and we'll be back on the road."
You give him a questioning smile.
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The two of you traveled like this for weeks, settling on heading inland towards the mountainside. No matter where you were going you were going to have to travel through the city. It was a risk, a big one, but it was that or abandon the truck and walk. That wasn't exactly an option.
You and Johnny had fell into a routine, working as one unit. You would keep watch, shooting down any dead in his path when he needed to go outside the truck. Most of the time was just driving, getting gas again, continuing to drive. Nights, you two would pull over to find somewhere to stop. Usually a run down house, store, you've even stopped to sleep in a shed once. No matter how big or small, you slept in the same room, for safety of course.
You knew more of eachother too. Your ranks, call signs. Hell, you teased him the entire week when you found out his call sign was "Soap". You held your side with the most boisterous laugh he's ever heard from you.
"Aw Johnny you want me to call you suds too?"
"Awa' an bile yer heid.."
"No fucking clue what that means suds-"
Today was no different so far, sun was starting to set and gas was low again. This time you both got out of the truck, fuel was getting harder to come by. Checking each car if there was just a few drops to take at this point.
You were leaned into a chevy, turning the abandoned key to check the gas level. Sighing as it only sputtered weakly. Empty. You lean back into your chair, when Johnny calls your name you shake your head.
"Empty!"
You holler back to him. Looking to where he was checking an old pick up truck, you grit your teeth in hope he finds something. But by the way he grunts, kicks the wheel and turns away from the vehicle, it's clear it was just as barren.
Pulling back your chair from the car, you slam it's door shut. Turning back to check the car parked next to it. But your hands freeze hearing the bushes at the edge of the highway rustle. Your head snaps up. And through the windows of the car you see it. A corpse stumbling out of the woods. Gripping your rifle you raise to shoot, but your stomach drops- another corpse stumbles out. Then another. Another..
Your heart hammers in your chest. It was a fucking wave of them. You look in Johnny's direction, he was half in another car with his head down.
"John-!"
You cry out his name loudly, making him pull back to look at you instantaneously. His eyes flicker from you to the mass horde. Eyes widening. Those pretty blue eyes are panicking, he yells your name.
You start to push yourself, but just your arms and chair is only going to get you so far. He's closer to the truck.
"Get in-!"
You try to tell him. But your jaw clenches when he ignores you. Sprinting straight in your direction.
"Johnny get in the fucking truck!"
You scream. Please.
Leaving you wasn't an option to Johnny. Never was. As much as you think you could make it there before the horde, it's not a guarantee. That's not good enough for him. The cars around you were busted, Windows broken, it wouldn't be safe to hide in.
The dead are right behind you, upon realizing that the most you can do now- is turn and shoot. With your rifle you send a bullet through one- two- four- five corpses. They're getting closer. You're losing time. You can hold off a little longer. Just a little -
Your gun jams.
Flipping it around, you prepare to strike the next corpse that comes at you with the butt of the gun. But a knife plunges into the bastards forehead, before being pulled out. Next thing you know is Johnny is hoisting you up over his shoulder out of your chair. Running full speed back to the truck.
"I gotcha hen- I have ye-"
He mutters between heavy breaths.
Pulling the rifle strap over his shoulder, you reach down and pull the pistol from his back pocket. Taking down the closest corpses with some quick shots.
Getting to the truck he ripped open the back door with a pull, doing his best not to just throw you down in the back seat in his panic. As soon as he lays you back, you're grabbing him by the collar. Dragging him down right on top of you in the truck. His arm reels back, pulling the door shut. Slamming his palm down on the lock.
You both breathe heavily, your gripping his shoulders in tight fists of his shirt. Letting your head fall back on the seat.
"Fuck-"
You whisper. Johnny is equally run down, his forearms on either side of your head, holding himself up.
"Ye alright bon?"
He murmurs, you can feel his breath against the side of your head. You nod hurriedly, your hands slowly let go of his shirt, open palms resting on his back.
"I'm good.."
You whisper back.
He drops his head down on your shoulder as you two lay there catching your breath. But you jolt again as the corpses start wandering by the truck, sloppily bumping into it. There's so many out there that the vehicle sways at the passing. You pull Johnny down flat against you.
"Stay down.. They see us they'll stay pushing on the truck."
You mumble against his head. He nods into your shoulder, glaring hard at the leather beneath the two of you.
"Fuck.. The chair-"
"I'll get it bonnie. After they're gone I'll get it."
You sigh quietly and nod against him. Each shift of the truck has you tense, on a particular violent bump- your hand slides up to John's hair. Fingers knitted into his mowhawk. As all you can do is glare at the passing dead. Johnny whispers your name.
"We're alright.. they'll pass."
He soothes.
You gnaw on your lower lip. If Johnny just got in the truck, he could've left. There's enough gas that he could have gotten far from the horde- far from the shit show you're in now.
"You should've-"
"Dinnae even say it."
He bristles, already knowing the unspoken words. He sighs quietly. Turning his head you two can look at eachother from the corners of your eyes. You frown at him. He just looks at you with those same blues.
"That's never an option."
He states clearly.
You just nod slowly, your thumb mindlessly skims over the scar on his temple. It was healing a little better now through these weeks. Checking him over for any wound usually served as a good distraction these days, but this was a hard one. As each time the truck was slammed, you watch his arms tense and his fists clench. Pressing himself over you just a bit tighter, as if preparing for them to break through the doors. Use himself as a living shield. Fuckers will eat him first. He thinks. Maybe he can give them a good struggle while you fight your way out.
The sun is going down. Fuck. It'll be dark in fifteen minutes you guess. The horde is still passing, you wonder just how many of them are there. They must be from the city, wandering around in massive groups. Chasing the sounds of their own groaning, or the occasional car driving by.
"We're sleeping here for the night I guess."
You grumble under your breath. The sways of the truck is a little less violent now, but still consistent. Johnny shifts with a grunt, not wanting to hurt you, but trying to find a way to move without drawing the attention of the dead. You move with him, through small shifts and pulls. You both end up on your sides to make room.
"They probably trampled the damn thing.."
You blurt your thought. You can feel Johnny's breath on the back of your neck.
"What lass?"
"The chair. There's so many of them they probably broke it."
Johnny stays silent hearing you, you can feel his leg shift, trying to give yours some more room.
"We'll deal with it.."
"You shouldn't have to John."
You grunt.
He's quiet again. He wants to be angry with you. But it's hard to. You always manage to try to put himself before you and John just can't understand it. Half of everything he does is for you.
"Dinnae talk like that.."
He mumbles.
"We're a team yeah?"
He says.
He watches you, the way your shoulders rise. You're trying to keep him out again, you do it often. Each time he gets closer, just enough to bring you into the thought that you deserve to be put first just as much as he does. You push back just before you can start to believe it with him. No blue eyes and lopsided scottish smiles can convince you otherwise.
"You could get to the mountains faster without me-"
"I dinnae want to."
John says without a second passing. You blink at the back of the passenger seat in front of you. Sighing as your shoulders sink slowly.
"I want you safe."
"I want ye alive hen."
He responds and you don't fight him this time.
Johnny's arm winds around you, his hand open and splayed out over your stomach. This is pretty normal for him, you learned fast the big man is touchy. But all seemed just who he was, you were thankful he wasn't the creepy type. You sigh against him. Letting yourself be smothered by the scottsman.
You still remember the first time he did. He curled himself up around you at a house you both stayed the night in. You were half asleep and socked the poor bastard out of instinct, gave the man a nice bump on his jaw for a couple days. But you felt so bad that you just lifted the blanket for him and pulled him down into your hold. He just laughed it off and called you a good hit. His arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you into his chest. You called him an idiot. Yet you still held him just as close.
Now you peacefully let himself tangle up against you, a leg between yours. Arm encircling you. You sigh at the rocking of the truck. The doors are locked. You remind yourself. The dead can't get in even if they see you. With that in mind, and Johnny wrapped around you. You let your eyes close and fall asleep.
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Your eyes blink open slow and heavy, the first thing you do is glance up at Johnny's face. Still asleep. Good, you know the bastard needs the rest. You've scolded him half a million times by now to get sleep at night, he's always trying to keep watch even when it's your turn to do so. You sit up slowly, his arm slipping down around your waist. Looking out the windows you let out a breath of relief. No corpses.
You look through the windows to get a good look at the highway. Clear of the dead, they definitely moved on through the woods again. The city has to be close by. You blink hearing a gutteral whimper leave the man next to you, attention completely moved to John.
His brows are furrowed, eyes squeezed shut. His chest stutters a slow breath, exhaling shakily. Your heart wrenches, he's had nightmares like this a lot lately. You can never quite pry from him what they're about. Your hand slowly slips over his chest where his heart is, rubbing soft and deep with your open palm.
"Johnny.."
You whisper.
In just that second your wrist is gripped in his strong hand, a type of hold he's never let touch you. Harsh and tight. You don't do anything against him however, just rest your free hand on top of his. Your thumb going round in soothing circles on each scarred knuckle. You waited patiently as his eyes opened and took in what was real around him.
"Easy.."
You soothe.
"Just me."
You mumble.
Johnny let's you go with a curse.
"Fuck- bon I'm sorr-"
"You know it's fine John."
You tell him sternly. Your hand comes up to skim the scar on his head again. Your lips purse in thought, it's like the man can catch you worrying. Groaning softly and patting your leg.
"It's not hurtin' I'm all good lass."
"You should take the painkiller. Don't think I haven't seen you wincing."
You tell him.
He chuckles with what you describe as a shit eating grin.
"Cannae get anything past ye?"
"No."
You say bluntly. But try to give him a little bit more of an understanding smile.
"We have to get up.. Wasting daylight is even less of an option right now. We have to get through the city."
Johnny stares up at you a little longer, his callous thumb toying with the belt loop on your jeans. Eyelashes flicking up at you.
"Aye I know.."
He whispers in response, before sitting up with a grunt. You're already putting two of those pills in his hand, holding out a water bottle too.
"Yer worse than a mum hen-"
"Yeah yeah take your pills Sargeant."
You roll your eyes at him, avoiding that pretty blue gaze of his.
You both sit just a little longer in the mornings silence.
".. This'll be hell Johnny. That city is gonna have even more than the horde last night."
You say, already picking at your nails at the thought of it. Johnny leans into the seat, handing you the bottle of water after he swallowed down his pills. Watching you take a long drink of it.
"We can get through it."
He says simply. You nod in agreement.
"We have to."
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You were right. Your chair was busted. Johnny found it a couple meters away, trampled just like you thought. The wheels misshapen, the frame bent. You were in the truck waiting. Johnny gritted his teeth and slammed his fist on the hood of the car next to him. Fuck. They were going to have to go through the city without a chair for you. You were going to be near constantly vulnerable.
Johnny gnawed harshly on his lower lip. He could do this. Get you both through. The town wasn't hard. If worse came to worse he would carry you on his shoulders the entire damn treck through the city, you were a good shot. He never worried about not being able to shoot when holding you, you'd never let anything close to him anyways.
He walked back to the truck, picking up the gas can on the way back. Half full. They could make through the city on that, even if they left just on fumes. Johnny poured the contents into the tank. Before tossing the siphon and canister in the bed of the truck. Walking around to get in the driver seat again.
Shutting the door he looks over to find you already staring back at him. You raise a brow. He shakes his head.
"Chairs fucked."
He confirms. You take a deep breath and nod. Clearing your throat you look forward at the highway. You can already see the buildings of the city.
"I trust you. We can do this."
You say. Johnny watches you for another moment, his hand comes over to squeeze your knee. Before starting the truck and driving forward.
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{Some fluff before the hell to come. I'm so glad you guys seem to be enjoying this! Definitely got more planned! If you need a hint. The next chapter will be called "Hell and High Water"♥️}
(Tag List: @sadstone-s @lolly145 @mangoguy @kaoyamamegami @waiting-so-long @ikohniik @bossva )
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burntheedges · 1 month
Text
too late
Dave York x f!reader | 18+ | 4.6k words | masterlist | ao3
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summary: Dave hasn’t see her in years, but he knew she would find him again.
a/n: this is for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 2.0! ok so my prompt was dark fic and "You should've pulled the trigger when you had a chance.” I've been calling this "baby's first dark fic" for days because it is 😭 and it's probably not that dark. but it's what I could do 🤷🏻‍♀️ it's also my first Dave fic. thank you to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta as always 💕, to @beardedjoel for reading over it and helping and being so encouraging 🧡, and to @goodwithcheese for giving me feedback and helping me make some changes 🧡
tags/warnings: darkish fic, assassins doing assassin things (including killing some guys, not described in detail), flirting, betrayal, seduction, one character drugs another without their knowledge (not for sex), guns, hidden intentions, smut: kissing, groping, manhandling, ripping underwear, pet names (baby, good girl), fingering (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (unprotected), creampie
...
Dave wasn’t someone who fidgeted, as a rule. He might seem to fidget, when necessary, as part of a cover or a ruse, but it was never unintentional. Every motion was planned, considered. Part of his work.
But when he fixed his cuff links just then, it wasn’t planned.
He’d looked up from his drink, turning away from the open bar to scan the room of wealthy socialites for his target. His eyes had cataloged the people he’d known would be there and skipped over them. He’d stepped away from the bar to set his drink on a high top table and, in a manner totally unlike himself, like some sort of amateur, he’d frozen. When his eyes had landed on her.
She’d been looking back at him.
She’d looked just as good as the last time he’d seen her, at least two years before (2 years, 3 months and 10 days, a voice whispered at the back of his mind). The dress she was wearing drew his eyes like a magnet and he’d remained frozen as he traced its lines before snapping his gaze back up to her face. 
She’d smirked.
And then he’d blinked as a server had passed in front of her. She’d disappeared.
He’d cleared his throat and fumbled with his cuff links, off-kilter in a way that wasn’t like him. Wasn’t the way he did things.
Dave shook his head, trying to clear it. This wasn’t good. He needed to get back on track, or call it. And he didn’t want to call it.
“Boss?” He heard the quiet voice of one of his guys in his hidden earpiece and picked up his drink. “I said, target in the northwest corner of the ballroom.”
Dave turned slowly to his left as if he was looking for someone he knew and his eyes traveled over the target’s back.
She was standing right next to them. He resisted the urge to curse.
He hid the small movement of his lips behind his glass, and murmured, “foxtrot.” That was the code that would tell his men to pack it up and rendezvous in 48 hours at one of the safe houses. He could feel their surprise in the long pause before a response – they’d been prepping this job for weeks. But he couldn’t explain now.
“Understood.” The line went quiet and Dave started to casually make his way to the exit at the opposite end of the ballroom from where she still stood next to the target.
His exit went smoothly – this was easier than the job would have been, anyway – and he turned to head down the hall towards the entrance. The hall was starting to empty as people joined the party, but he could see a line of people waiting to come in at the entrance. He decided to take the side exit that would give him some cover as he made his way to the car his men had stashed in the parking deck two blocks away.
This turned out to be the wrong decision.
As he stepped onto the dark side street, he started to scan his surroundings as usual. Before he could do more than check the busy intersection with the main road to the left, he felt someone step up behind him and the unpleasant sensation of a gun in his back.
“Hello, Dave.”
2 years, 3 months, and 15 days earlier
There was someone else on the job.
Dave had seen the signs, but he wasn’t certain until now – someone else was after their target. He’d started to feel them like a shadow, a few steps behind his team as they planned and prepared. But tonight they’d gotten ahead of him.
One of his guys had gone for another routine check of the art gallery where the target would be hosting an event. They’d found the back door unlocked (sloppy, Dave muttered to himself). Whoever it was had left a clear path through the building for anyone who knew how to look, but had slipped out before Dave’s guy could so much as realize the problem. 
Now they knew for certain. This new competitor might be an amateur, but they were after the same target.
Dave pressed his palms to his eyes, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. Shit. Now they had to split their focus – the target, and whoever this asshole was that was mucking up the job. He didn’t have time for this.
In the end, though, it was easier to identify them than he’d even bothered to hope.
The gallery was hosting a different group 3 nights before the event, and so Dave and one of his guys were planning to go and do some recon while the place was crowded. It turned out the opposition had the same idea.
Dave was standing in front of some sort of art with a drink in his hand when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Someone was watching him.
He finished his drink and turned, as if he was looking for somewhere to put it down. As he scanned the room, he spotted them.
He spotted her.
She was standing with a small group, posture relaxed and open as she chatted with them. But he clocked her (and her thigh holster) immediately. Distantly he noted that she was incredibly attractive, though she was trying to hide it with her outfit and makeup. 
Dave began to circle around the room towards the bar. He kept her in view as he got a new drink and began to move through the exhibits again. His path took him to her side of the room, until he stopped just close enough to hear her group’s conversation as he pretended to study the work in front of him.
“--you know how he feels about modern art.” Her voice did not betray any sort of tension – she was better at this than breaking and entering, at least.
He continued to eavesdrop, but the conversation wasn’t interesting. So he focused on her instead. As he moved slowly around her group, taking in the art, he realized he knew who she was – new on the scene, but he’d heard of her. He could tell she was aware of him, too. He wondered if she knew that he knew, if she was good enough to read him like he could read her.
She answered that question only a few moments later.
“Excuse me,” he heard her say as she turned away from the group towards the restrooms. When she was about 20 feet away, he turned to follow. Dave didn’t look at her as he walked.
But when he turned the corner into the long hallway with the bathrooms, she was gone.
“Looking for someone?” Dave didn’t give her the victory of startling, but it was close. She was standing behind him. He turned slowly and calmly to face her.
“Looking for the restroom,” he returned, voice mild.
She raised a single eyebrow at him and he pretended not to notice how attractive it was. “Oh, are we playing that game?” Her tone matched his.
“And what game is that?” Dave leaned against the wall next to him and crossed his arms.
She smirked and stepped closer to him. “The game, David York, where we pretend not to know exactly who we are. And why we’re here.” She was new at this, he could tell, even if she was affecting confidence. He leaned in and watched as her eyes drifted downward against her will. He didn’t smirk.
Ah, he thought, as a new path opened in front of him. He didn’t have to get rid of her, after all. And it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship.
“Who’s pretending? I know your name, too. And I’ve known you were on this job for weeks.” He didn’t mention the fact that he hadn’t known she was his opponent until he recognized her in the gallery.
She was surprised but hid it well. “And you’re just talking to me now?”
Dave pushed off the wall and stepped towards her again, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Wanted to see what you can do, first. That was sloppy last night.”
He watched the corner of her mouth tick down, but she didn’t give into the frown. New at this, but not too new.
“I didn’t realize I was on a try out.” Her voice was stiff now. He didn’t smile.
“Isn’t that what you wanted? Why you approached me tonight?” He watched her avoid admitting it. “Well, you did well in there. You’ve got some promise.”
She was angry now, he could see it slipping through the cracks in her facade. But she wasn’t angry enough to walk away from this just yet.
“Promise?” She kept her voice mild, anyway. That was good.
Dave just looked at her for a moment. He could see the tension in her body as she kept herself from fidgeting. She still had a lot to learn.
“So, what? You want to work together?” He let his skepticism show in his voice and watched as her spine stiffened in response.
She crossed her arms. “Look, Dave. You need me.”
He let his eyebrows raise slowly. “Oh?”
She nodded. “I know you haven’t figured out the approach, yet. That’s my specialty.”
He mirrored her and crossed his arms. She was right, but he didn’t show it. “Don’t need it. Plenty of chances when he’ll be alone.”
She shook her head as if he’d disappointed her. “You and I both know that’s harder to plan for. I can get him from the party. Guarantee it, instead.”
Dave regarded her silently. She seemed confident, and he’d just watched her perform – she was right that she was good at that part, at least. Just new to the rest of it and unable to learn on her own.
He stepped closer again and pressed one palm into the wall by her head. She blinked. He knew this was what she was hoping to see from him. It didn’t hurt that the attraction he felt was genuine – easier to make it believable that way.
“And what’s in it for me?” 
Her eyes narrowed. He could see that she was interested, too interested, but wouldn’t admit it so easily. “Not that.” Her voice was flat. He allowed himself to smirk, finally, and watched the effect it had on her. “But I can guarantee you success. Something you can’t do on your own.”
That, at least, was partially true, based on what he’d seen. “Then what’s in it for you?”
She stepped around him and turned to walk down the hall. “A share of the payout.” And the experience she still needed on the job, but that went unsaid by both of them.
He watched her walk away and reached into his pocket to find the scrap of paper she had just slipped inside. A phone number.
Dave already knew he was going to call, but it was better to make her wait.
Two nights later, you’d finally been introduced to his team in preparation for the job.
He’d made you wait. It didn’t surprise you. You knew he thought you couldn’t read him, but you could see his interest in you well enough. But he had to pretend he didn’t want you, didn’t want your help. You knew the game.
But now you were involved and less than 24 hours out from the job. You heard footsteps approaching your little corner of their workspace and turned to find him leaning against the table behind you.
“You ready?” He affected the same mild tone he’d used when you first met, but you could see through it now. 
“Of course.” You’d relaxed a bit and you knew he could hear the slight annoyance in your tone.
Dave smiled. “Good.” He stepped closer and leaned against your desk right next to your chair. You looked up at him, leaning back as far as you could. “You’re not bad, for someone so new at this.”
You rolled your eyes. “Thank you for admitting it.”
He shook his head. “I knew that, from the night we met.” He tilted his head and lifted one hand to trace his fingertips down your jaw. “Might be interesting, having you around.”
You tried not to look affected, or at least not as interested as you were in that possibility. “For the job?”
He hummed and cupped your cheek. “And for after, maybe.”
You blinked. That was unexpected.
“After we see how this job goes, of course.”
You nodded slowly, surprised. You’d hoped for this outcome, when you approached him, but he’d seemed so aloof.
“You’re not just saying that because you’re attracted to me, I hope.” You tried for a teasing tone and his thumb stroked your cheek.
“I am attracted to you,” he confirmed, voice even and direct. It made you shiver. “And you’re attracted to me.”
Dave leaned down until his face was level with yours, only inches away. “But that’s not part of the job.” You blinked, staring at his mouth. “Why don’t you show me what you’re planning to do tomorrow. To get his attention.”
You frowned. “We already talked about it.”
Dave shook his head, standing up again.  “I want you to show me, now.” You looked around and noticed everyone else had left. “That’s right, just you and me. Show me what you can do.”
He seemed serious. You stood and shook out your shoulders. You shifted your weight and fell into the persona you’d use the next night, the woman who would approach the target and lure him away. 
As you took a step towards Dave, you saw his eyes widen a bit. Good. 
“Well, I’ll make eye contact and flirt a little – make him approach me, not the other way around.” You raised one hand to trail your fingertips down his chest and you watched as he drew in a deep breath. “But I’ll let him talk to me and get me a drink, when he does.” You stepped closer and noticed Dave’s eyes dipped to your chest. “And when he flirts more, I’ll be impressed. When he compliments me, I’ll act shy, a little innocent.” You pressed both hands to his chest now and ran them upwards until you could link your fingers behind his neck. “He’ll lean in, and I’ll be flattered.” You leaned in to speak into Dave’s ear and watched his hands flex around the lip of the table he was leaning against. “In the end, all it will take is wide eyes while I place my hand on his arm or his chest.” You covered the remaining distance between you and pressed the length of your body against his. He was warm and firm – you could feel his strength. “And then he’ll feel like he’s in control when I leave with him.” You felt Dave’s hands come up to grip your waist and you bit back on a grin.
“And so he won’t be thinking of anything but me when I slip the drugs into his drink in the hotel room and let you in to finish the job.” You were whispering now and you could feel Dave’s cock hardening against your thigh.
You paused, and let your demeanor shift back to your own.
“Well?” You felt Dave’s hands tighten on your waist in his surprise at the normal tone of your voice. “What do you think?”
His arms slipped around your back and he pulled you closer before growling into your ear, “I think you’re ready.” And then he leaned back so that he could crush his lips to yours.
It was a searing kiss. It stole your breath, from the first moment – you felt it crash over you and vibrate down your spine. 
You knew he wanted you. You wanted him, too, but you wanted in more, and this was your way in.
Dave watched without watching as she lured in the target at the party the next night. She was doing well, as she’d promised – with the shy looks and the lingering eye contact he could tell that the man was about two minutes away from giving in and crossing the room to talk to her.
He let his mind wander to the night before – he’d kissed her against the desk but hadn’t let it go any farther. She was gagging for it, he could tell, and he was going to use that to his advantage soon enough. 
The target approached and fell for all of it. Right on time she stood up and began to walk towards the back hall. Dave made his way there slowly, following as they exited and walked the two blocks to the target’s hotel.
Everything went according to plan – the hotel, the drugs, the ambush. Dave killed the man in his bed and removed the evidence. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she pocketed the tech that was the real prize, smirking to himself before they all slipped out into the night with no one the wiser.
Dave was letting himself ride the high of a job well done when she followed him to his hotel room later that night, as he’d known she would. He softened his smirk into a smile before he turned around to find her right behind him at his door. 
“Coming in?” he asked as he swung it open behind him.
“Are we done pretending you don’t want this?” She raised an eyebrow at him as she crossed the threshold, and he grinned. 
“Yes, we are.”
Dave grabbed you by the waist and pushed you backwards into the door. You sucked in a sharp breath. “Wanted this,” he muttered into your neck before biting down, leaving a mark with his teeth. Your eyes widened. “You looked so good, baby, working the room.” He pressed hot kisses down your neck as he pulled the zipper down the back of your dress. It slid easily to the floor, leaving you in nothing but lace-trimmed underwear underneath. Dave growled. “And I know you wanted it too.”
He pulled you into a searing kiss and reached behind you to grab your ass, fingers twisting in the lace. You felt it tear in his hand before he ripped them off of you with a snarl. “Isn’t that right?”
Your legs almost gave out at the possessiveness in his voice. Yes, this – this was what you’d wanted since you first saw him. You’d known you would need to impress him and you could barely believe you’d succeeded.
“Dave–” you were breathing heavily and leaning against the door. His eyes swept over you and he grinned, wicked. “Touch me.”
“Oh, is that what you want?” His voice was dark and you shivered again. He was still fully clothed and it made you squirm with desire. “C’mere.” 
He tugged you towards the bed and threw you down so hard you bounced. “I know you want it, baby. And I know just how to give it to you.” He crawled on top of you and captured your mouth in another kiss as his hand trailed down your stomach to tease along your slit. “Hmm, you didn’t get wet like this for him, did you?”
You shook your head. “No–” your hips stuttered as he nudged his fingers inside to tease at your entrance. 
He rose up on his elbow to look down at you. “No,” he repeated. He smirked again as his fingers slipped inside. “Good girl.”
Dave worked you over quickly, drawing an orgasm out of you faster than you’d ever felt before. You were shaking as you felt it climb up your spine, shuddering as you fell over the edge, moaning as it swept you away.
When you blinked your eyes open, you found him smirking at you again. “You’re gorgeous when you come.”
The compliments, the way he’d spoken to you since you crossed his threshold – it was all starting to settle and warm something inside of you in a way that frightened you. You pulled him down into a kiss, ignoring it.
You reached down to tug at the button on his pants and felt him smile into your mouth. “Want something?” His tone was lighter, suddenly, and you wondered if this was what he was like when his walls were coming down.
“You know what I want, Dave.” You pushed at his pants until he assisted by tugging them down just far enough for his cock to spring forward, hard and big. You wrapped your hand around it. 
He looked at you and smirked again. “Oh, good girl,” he leaned in to run his teeth down your neck and palmed your breast. Dave reached down and lifted your right leg, knee to your chest. “Such a pretty pussy,” he praised, and you sighed. “Let me see it.”
He urged you to hold your legs open, gripping behind your knees. It felt suddenly obscene, holding yourself open for his gaze as he kneeled before you fully clothed with his cock out. You felt yourself get wetter and knew he could tell.
He grasped his cock at the root and leaned forward to tease it through your folds. You looked down and moaned when you saw your own arousal glistening on the head of his cock.
“Well, baby, keep your eyes on me.” He notched the head of his cock at your entrance and started to push forward. You almost let go of your knees, reaching for him, but he stopped. “No, keep your hands there,” he scolded. When you got back into position he pushed forward again, all the way in until you were so full you felt your eyes roll back.
Dave grabbed your chin roughly. “Look at me.” His tone was commanding and you blinked until you could do as he said. “You keep your eyes on me.” It was an order. You nodded. He raised his eyebrows and shook your head by the chin.
“Um,” you cleared your throat and felt his cock throb within you. “Yes, sir.”
He smiled. “Good girl.”
It was harder than you could have imagined, not closing your eyes when he started to thrust. It felt delicious, the way his cock filled you up and touched every part of you. But you did it. You watched him, eyes darting over his face and down to where your hips met and back up. 
He watched your face the whole time, never looking away.
“That’s good,” he praised, leaning forward to kiss you. “Hold on tight.”
He sat back and grabbed your thighs where you held them open for leverage. His next thrust was harder and faster and so was the next. You keened. 
“Just like that, baby,” he breathed. “Take it.”
You nodded, eyes locked on his as you held your legs open for him to fuck you.
“Look at you.” He picked up the pace. “So desperate for it, hmm? So beautiful like this.”
You blinked, and his brow furrowed. “Eyes on me.” You nodded, mouth falling open as you heaved in heavy breaths. 
Dave released his grip on your thigh and moved his right hand to your pussy. “Now,” his voice was deeper than ever, “you’re going to come on my cock. And then I’m going to come inside you.”
You nodded, eagerly. He smirked. “Good.”
He worked your clit with his fingers until your legs were shaking in your grasp. The unrelenting thrusts combined with the way he toyed with you pushed you over the edge before you even felt it coming. Your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train, and your next breath was a sob.
“Good girl,” he snarled, hips thrusting harder. He replaced your hands with his own and pushed your knees into your chest. “Now, watch.” You did and you marveled at the sight of him as he reached his own peak and lost himself inside of you.
He collapsed on top of you afterwards and for a moment neither of you did anything but breathe.
Dave flopped to the side, pulling out in a way that made you gasp.
“You know,” his chest was heaving just as much as yours and it made you smile. “I’ve never worked with a partner.”
“Well.” You turned on your side and ran your hand over his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt. “I think you could use one.”
He hummed, but didn’t answer.
A few minutes later he got up to get you some water, but you didn’t notice when he slipped something into your drink.
Early in the morning, Dave slipped out of bed easily, knowing you would still be sleeping off the effects of the drug for a few more hours. He dressed quickly and looked down at you, watching you breathe. He didn’t feel any regret – it had all gone according to plan, after all. Teasing you and drawing you in until you couldn’t help but follow him here, couldn’t help but believe he wanted the same things you did.
And so he’d gotten what he wanted from you. It was time to go.
He slipped the small hard drive from the pocket of your coat and removed all evidence of himself from the room. He left without looking back.
You went after him.
Of course you did. You’d woken, groggy, unable to open your eyes and feeling like you’d been hit with a bag of bricks. 
“Dave?” You’d groaned, voice scratchy. You’d reached for him, but his side of the bed had been empty and cold. You’d opened your eyes, finally, and found the room around you empty of everything but your clothes, which had been folded neatly on the desk.
It had taken only a moment for the truth to set in, and you’d felt it like a dagger to the heart – he’d drugged you. He’d used you, taken advantage of your lack of experience, let you see what you wanted to see in him, and then left you here, alone. Your eyes had darted to your jacket, but you’d known even before you’d checked. He’d taken the hard drive, too. 
No one had heard your muffled screams as you buried your face in your pillow. And no one had noticed when something that had still been soft hardened within you.
You’d been angry. And then you’d turned it into something you could use.
You tracked him and his team. Took out two of them. Followed them to the marina, to the boat they were going to use to escape.
Just as you were about to step onto the dock, you froze and looked down.
The red dot of a sniper rifle scope appeared on your chest. You whipped your head back up and found him, at the far end of the dock, rifle pointed towards you. He stood on the open deck of the boat. You could hear the engine start. 
You couldn’t move. You just watched as the boat started to pull into the bay. But you saw the moment he decided not to take the shot.
Dave lowered the rifle and looked at you. You couldn’t see his expression from so far away, but you knew he was looking. You looked back until you couldn’t see him anymore.
Present day
“Hello, Dave.”
Her voice sent a shiver down his spine. Fuck, he thought. He’d known that this was coming, but not when.
He’d heard talk of what she’d been doing since he left her on that dock. She gained a reputation. He knew she was skilled, and now so did everyone else in the business.
Dave didn’t regret it, but he sometimes wished he could. He opened his mouth, “You–”
“Shhh,” she hushed him, leaning closer. “It’s too late for that. You should've pulled the trigger when you had a chance.”
...
a/n: how did I do? *hides*
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twice-inamillion · 11 months
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Jihyo’s Concern
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Chapter 190 
(Important concerns that need to be addressed.)
The group has the day off, and most use this opportunity to rest after completing a successful comeback. The night before, Jihyo asked you for some alone time to clear her mind after a busy couple of weeks.
With Jisoo at her grandparents, the both of you have the afternoon to yourselves, so you decide to go for an afternoon drive. 
You drive on the road with a fantastic view of the coastline, the windows down, and the air blowing Jihyo's hair. You can't help but admire how beautiful she is, your future wife. "You look amazing, Jihyo. I'm the luckiest man in the world to have found someone like you."
"You're the lucky one. I'm the one that went after the pursuit; you had no chance, haha," as she gives you a loving smile. 
She grabs your hand and intertwines it with hers, "I'm glad we took this time apart from everyone."
"Good thing you asked, it's been a hectic these past couple of weeks, but it's finally over."
"Haha, we did a good job; thank you for Fancy, it's such a good song. From what I could see, Once loved the song."
"Really? I'm too afraid to check, so I haven't been on social media."
"Oh yeah, the group chat has been flooded with pics of Once's comments on the song. You really did an amazing job, Mr. Producer."
"It's only going to get better, I have other songs in mind."
"I know they’re going to be great."
"Thanks, also… I got the finalized song list for the upcoming tour, so you might want to tell the rest to freshen up."
"I'm so excited! I can't believe we are going on tour again but this time, its a world tour. Can you believe it, going abroad to sing in front of international Once!"
"It's to be expected, you girls work so hard; you all deserve the best."
"Thanks, but that has been making me thinking about what we are going to do with the babies. They're growing too fast and are more active than before. I don't think we can bring them with us; the constant traveling from city to city, I don't think they will be able to handle."
"You're right. Three of them are over a year old, and they are going to start to run and throw tantrums; it's going to be hard to hide them. There is also Da-eun, who's only a few months old, and she is still too small to travel internationally. It's one thing to Japan and taking them since it's so close but going to other countries, it's going to be hard."
Jihyo's hand begins to shake slightly. "What are we going to do, oppa? I don't want to leave them behind, but we can't take them either."
"We're going to get through this. The tour's first leg is around Asia, so we won't be too far out. Let's see; we have two days in Seoul, one day in Bangkok, Manila, and Singapore. They're spread out that we'll be back home. The only part that would worry me would be the North American concerts and the last leg of Asia. Maybe we can ask your mom to watch over them for the first leg."
“I can ask, but I also don't want to rely on them too much, you know. I feel bad because it's not just Jisoo this time; its four children. Plus, taking care of an infant like Da-eun with Jisoo and Ari, I don't think it's would end well."
"Hmm… I might have another option, but I don't know if you are going to like it." Jihyo sees your hesitation, "Come on, tell me, don't keep it to yourself. You already opened your mouth, just spit it out," as she smacks your arm. 
"Okay, but just keep an open mind."
"Yeah, I'll try."
"You know how I go to the company building for meetings, right?"
"The one in the mornings."
"Yeah, well… there are times when we have a long break in between or finish early, so I shop for groceries here and there. Well… I've bumped into Chaeyoung's mom several times, and we talk here and there. She's sweet and friendly; she even invited me for lunch and asked me about Chaeyoung and the rest of the girls."
"Oh really?” with a suspicious looked.
"Yup, she mentioned how lonely she is at home since her two children are adults and no longer live with her. I feel bad because she gets so happy when I stop by to the point that I even bring her groceries from time to time. She's even shown me some childhood pictures of Chaeyoung; she was so cute when she was small, haha."
"Seems like you have a lot of time on your hands," as she gives you a side eye. 
"No, it's not like that. I forgot my main point…" as you try to remember why you brought up the subject in the first place. "Oh yeah, during one of our talks, she mentioned how hard it was for her to raise chaeyoung and her brother as a single mother. She struggled a lot until she enrolled them in a nursery. She said that they liked it so much that she ended up as a volunteering at the nursery as well. I remember her saying that she still does it from time to time, so I thought that maybe we can ask her to watch over the kids since she's more than qualified."
You watch as Jihyo remains silent and gives it some thought. "You haven't told her about the kids, right?" 
"No, I haven't said anything. All we talked about was your life as an idols and Chaeyoung. Well, she did ask me if I had something going on with Chaeyoung, but I just said that we like to mess around."
"Wait, what do you mean by mess around?"
"Like playful things, you know, joking around that type of stuff."
"Hmm, okay. That's fine."
"So what do you think? Should we ask her?"
"Hmm, if you think she's qualified, then I don't think it's a bad idea. Will we need to talk to Chaeyoung about it and check if she's willing to do it."
"If not then we can ask Mina's mom. Mina has mentioned that she always asks about the kids, so she might be willing to do it if we ask."
"You're right; with my mom and Mina's mom, I think we can make it work. It would be a win-win situation on both sides; the babies get to see their grandparents and spend time with the grandkids."
"Okay, sounds like a plan. All we have to do is talk to the members about it."
As you reach the final destination, you park the car in a spot that has a perfect ocean view. Parking high on a cliff gives you the best view of both the ocean and the surrounding terrain. "It's been a while since we have been right, oppa." "Yes, maybe a year or two?" "You're right, even before Jisoo."
"Wouldn't it be nice to live near the beach?" as you look at the beautiful scenery. Jihyo reaches for the cooler in the back and gives you an ice-old soda and some snacks. "Here, I picked this up before coming here." The both of you stay silent as you take in the view. 
Minutes pass in silence until Jihyo says, "What do you think about moving?" You're surprised by her question, "You mean getting a new house?"
"Yes, the house we have right now is doable, but with Sana's pregnancy, it will be difficult. Mina, Dahyun, and I have our own room, but the rest of us share, so it will be hard once Sana gives birth. We don't have the space anymore."
"You're right. I've been thinking the same thing lately."
"I've been looking online for any houses with rooms for all of us or two houses next to each other, but I haven't had any luck," sulks Jihyo. You try to comfort her, "It's going to be okay; we just have to try a pick harder."
"Just thinking about it makes me so stressed; I just can't help it. Eventually, the babies will need a room when they grow up; it's not like they can always sleep with us. They are going to want their room once they're older." 
"This might sound like a crazy idea, but what if we build our dream house? We can buy our own plot of land and build it how we want. Just imagine this, a large house, plenty of rooms, a big kitchen, a backyard, and a playroom for the kids." 
The idea of having a house built from the ground up sounds like a dream. You watch as she is in deep thought, thinking of what her future house could look like. "Okay, let's do it. If I want to have a big house, enough for all of us to live comfortably."
With Jihyo in agreement, you tease her, "We can even have a room that we can use to have fun," as you wink at her. Jihyo immediately understands what you mean, "you dirty boy," as she smacks your thigh.
"Haha, I'm just joking." 
"No, maybe we should," as she looks at you with a lustful face. She slowly rubs your thigh, "We can have some fun and not worry about anyone bothering us," she said before pulling her hand away. 
"I would really it; maybe we can try for a second one," as you wink at her. "Stop, you're going to make me really want one. You know how busy we are right now, so maybe later when Jisoo is a bit older."
With a disappointed face, you accept your fate, "Okay. I'll get on the process then." The both of you enjoy the rest of your evening together as you walk by the beach. 
————
Jihyo and Jisoo take a bath together once they get home after a long day. You tuck them into bed, kiss them goodnight, and return to your room. 
You look online to see the requirements to purchase land in Korea and compare prices between locations like the city, countryside, and suburbs. While browsing, you remember your friend Samatha from college and give her a call. After a long conversation, she recommends you to a friend she worked with for her bathhouse. Your night ends with you making a list of potential requirements for the perfect home. 
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mllemaenad · 3 months
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The Magnus Protocol: Running on Empty
While I have nothing but sympathy for the poor tutor who had to mark that essay, I must admit I enjoy the return to stories where a survivor recounts a bizarre supernatural experience.
It's not that I can't take an episode where the monster wins – those can be very effective. But, well, while I enjoyed the overarching plot in the fifth season of The Magnus Archives, I must admit I enjoyed the individual stories significantly less than the ones in the previous seasons. Mostly because they weren't stories so much as descriptions of suffering. Because the victims generally had little sense of a time before or after their torment, you missed out on all the bits about how they got themselves into this mess, how they got themselves out of it, and what they thought the whole thing meant. The personalities, the individual characters who came and went after their one weird thing, were part of the fun. And they were largely absent.
The cases in The Magnus Protocol aren't exactly like that, of course: you can glean a bunch of background, at least, by reading between the lines. But still. There's something immensely cheering about getting a couple of stories where someone essentially rolls in to declare "So that was weird, right?" and then wander off again.
Also, apparently Norris doesn't like the night shift.
It's interesting how similar the last two cases are. Dianne didn't seem like the type to use terms like "liminal spaces", but Hilltop Road has very literally been a threshold between worlds:
Martin/Annabelle Once there was a house, a building that, for all it might have looked like those around it, was not the same. Stop, no. It didn’t start with the house. It was here long before any might have thought of it as a home. Once, there was a patch of land, not quite as firm in this reality as that which surrounded it. Stop, no. It’s not about the land. Mud and soil has no part in what is there. Once, there was a point in space that did not quite obey all those petty rules that decide what can be allowed to happen in a world. Stop, no. It’s not a point in space. The Earth spins and hurtles through the darkness, but it still carries it along. Let us simply say that once there was a place. A place where the universe had… cracked. – The Magnus Archives: This Old House
And if you don't know that, then you do know that Hilltop Centre's status as a charity shop makes it a way station for objects of all kinds. And this place let those almost-human people in, and let them bring their weird objects with them.
The people in Running on Empty put me in mind of the gibbering crowd in Lost in the Crowd, whereas the volunteers in Give and Take reminded me of the students in Anatomy Class, but that's more a question of degree than kind. The latter put on a good enough show that it took weeks to really confirm there was something wrong with them; the former could be spotted almost instantly. Both are stories of the uncanny valley: the thing that is almost but not quite human. And in both cases the victim is very nearly overwhelmed by the crowd: objects crushing, or "people" biting, sure, but both instances of being isolated, outnumbered and then assaulted.
Poor Terrance is a perfect victim, as well: he already has a nervous breakdown on record, which will mark him as an unreliable witness, he is isolated enough that nobody reported him missing after his incident, and his job requires him to spend a great deal of time alone.
Norris is describing the situation in the OIAR perfectly. They are a small number of people working a night shift in an old building clearly intended to contain more staff:
Celia Sure, no worries. I’ll be honest, I thought there’d be more people working here given the size of the building? Sam Yeah, no we’re, uh… Alice Streamlined? – The Magnus Protocol: Introductions
The point of their work is deeply obscure to them:
Sam Where does it go? Alice If I were a betting woman, I'd say some long dead database that no-one will ever look at or care about. Sam So why do it? Alice Because that's what they're paying us to do. – The Magnus Protocol: First Shift
Their odd hours put them out of step with normal social conventions:
Gertrude To what do we owe this early morning… pleasure. Sam Oh yeah, sorry we work nights so… Gertrude So? – The Magnus Protocol: Running on Empty
And the place has high turnover and burn out rates. Colin is clearly not coping – he is absolutely right about the electronics being weird, but he isn't dealing with that information very well – Sam is struggling with the sleep schedule, Gwen is stressed enough that she's about to commit a murder over an empty kettle and Alice ... unflappable Alice is worried:
Alice Just been a lot of changes round here recently. I don’t love it. Teddy, Sam, Celia, and did you hear Lena put Colin on “mental health leave”? – The Magnus Protocol: Running on Empty
It's not clear whether the computer voices are aware of each other, so calling it coordinated is probably overstepping the available evidence at this point: but Chester and Norris do seem to have delivered almost exactly the same warning. What might the staff of the OIAR be in danger of letting in?
The story also continues its thread of visual communication, with Gerry's painting. Gerard Keay has always been a painter, of course. But if The Magnus Archives needed to give you a visual, it simply did:
Archivist/Dominic Swain Instead, my attention was fixed on a picture attached to the one small area of wall not covered by bookshelves. It was a painting of an eye. Very detailed, and at first I almost would have said almost photorealistic, but the more I looked at it, the more I saw the patterns and symmetries that formed into a single image, until I was so focused on them that I started to have difficulty seeing the eye itself. Written below it were three lines, in fine green calligraphy: “Grant us the sight that we may not know. Grant us the scent that we may not catch. Grant us the sound that we may not call.” – The Magnus Archives: Pageturner
But here there is:
The video you could not watch
The alert that was not read out by a text-to-speech program
The email you could not read
The painting you could not see
The painting might not be anything, of course. But if you knew something could hear you but not see you, a person might resort to communicating purely through a visual medium. "John" apparently sent Sam Gertrude and Gerry's address. But nobody knew that until they got there, and so they travelled unmolested.
It's hard to say for sure what this universe's Gertrude knows – although I'm going to assume she knows something of significance, or she wouldn't be here – but it makes an interesting contrast to The Magnus Archives. There, the primary concern was being seen, and Gertrude was paranoid enough on that front to cut out the eyes from the illustrations in all her books. So one might expect equally paranoid behaviour if the concern was being heard.
The actual arrival of Gertrude and Gerry is fun: I enjoyed both characters, so I'm happy to see more (although if I get to wish to see an existing character, it's Adelard Dekker; I was always a little sad that we never got to properly meet him). It is suggestive of the way the world works that they're together, though.
I mean – I know this isn't the kind of alternate universe story where the Roman Empire never fell. It's recognisable modern day Britain, so I assume just about everybody still hates Margaret Thatcher and it's customary to drive on the left hand side of the road.
But it's a different world, and the history relevant to the story has not played out the same way. And yet, Gertrude and Gerard Keay are still a duo. Are there some things that are always true, then, no matter the world? I'd be interested to learn how it came about, though. That Sam was personally traumatised by The Magnus Institute isn't exactly surprising: he hardly hid his interest, after all. But Gerard Keay? Signing her kid up for a "gifted" program at The Magnus Institute doesn't sound like Mary Keay's style at all: she valued her independence too much. So what happened there?
And what is Georgie doing? It does make one wonder what life would have been like for her and Melanie – the first ones, I mean – when the world was put back together. Everyone clearly remembered what had happened, or they wouldn't have bothered to murder Simon Fairchild. So they would always be set apart.
My general thoughts on the plan are that it is reasonable to pass the entities along. Sure, it's a trolley problem. Nobody likes a trolley problem. But you are setting a risk of harm to the denizens of other worlds against the certain deaths of everyone in yours. So – sure, have at it.
But if you do that, you have now made yourself responsible for those worlds. You know what these things are, and you know how they operate. The people in other worlds likely do not, and won't know how to defend themselves.
So maybe, now, you have a responsibility to do something about that. Ha. Like make a really good podcast about it.
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littlestarofthewest · 2 years
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Title: You’re Mine | Word Count: 4466 | Pairing: Arthur Morgan x male reader
Tags: alcohol cw, work in progress | Rating: Explicit (18+)!!!
Summary: You’re hanging around the saloon, waiting for someone to finally pop your cherry, when you suddenly run into a lot more cowboy than you can handle.
Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11 - coming asap]
You crouch in the high grass, looking for signs of the dear you've been stalking. It's nowhere to be seen, but the grass behind you rustles, letting you know that something bigger and heavier is coming your way.
"Hey," a soft voice says behind you.
There must be a good reason why Charles is coming over to you, risking startling the animals you're trying to hunt.
"What is it?" you ask as you turn around.
"There's a wagon coming along the road. If they keep going, they'll end up right in camp."
You close your eyes, taking in the sounds all around you. A soft wind makes the leaves rustle and birds sing. Far away, you can even hear a nearby stream. And in between, tires hit little twigs on the ground as they rough up the already beaten path.
"What do we do?"
Charles is looking through the trees. "We have to stop them, make them go the other way."
"How?" you ask, your heart beating faster.
You can't imagine why the people on that wagon might turn around. Still, you can't let them get to the camp. After weeks with the Van der Linde Gang, you picked up on the most important rules. Not being detected is one of them. Even if it's just civilians, they might tell local police what they saw.
"Follow me," Charles says and gets to his feet, no longer hiding. "We'll make it look like it's too dangerous to be in these woods."
You follow Charles, trying your best to swallow a snarky comment. The most danger in these woods comes from a group of thieves and murderers, but you highly doubt that Charles wants to tell them that, especially since he's one of them.
Charles walks out right into the street, holding both his shoulders and rifle low. He's trying to look as unthreatening as possible. You step out next to him just as the wagon comes rattling along the street, clearing the trees.
The driver stops with a curse and Charles gives you a look before he hangs his rifle over his shoulder and lifts his hands.
"Excuse me," he says, his voice calm. "I suggest you don't come any closer. These woods aren't safe."
The man driving eyes him with suspicion. Next to him sits a woman and when the wagon holds, two younger women sit up to look forward and see what's the hold-up.
"Wie bitte?" the man says, a quiver in his voice. "Wieso halten Sie uns auf?"
Charles looks over at you. "Was that German?"
"Yes," you say. "You speak it?"
"Not enough for a conversation."
"I'll try," you say, taking a step forward and smiling at the driver. "You're German?"
"Yes," the man says, looking even more uncomfortable than before.
"Any English?"
The man shakes his head. "Not … not good."
You think about what Charles said about the dangerous forest, so you point to the trees. "Wald … gefährlich."
"Why?" the man says, and judging by his demeanor, you wonder how they even got this far. 
"Bären," you say, lifting your hands like claws and growling before you point at yourself and mimic to shoot. "Wir Jäger. Hunting them."
The man nods, not eager to meet any bears, but he still gestures to the treeline. "Wir suchen die nächste Stadt. City. Food."
"Oh, you're going the wrong way," you say and when that only gets you a puzzled look, you point behind the wagon. "Die Richtung. City. Not … Nicht hier. Da."
The man shares a look with his wife and they have a quick conversation you can't follow before the man nods at you again. "Back there?"
"Yes. Kreuzung," you say, spreading your arms apart to show the two possible ways. "You go left. Links. City. Links."
With a smile, the man nods even more. "Dann fahren wir da entlang. Vielen Dank. Thank you."
You only nod, the conversation already hard enough without empty phrases. When they turn around, both you and Charles wave at them and they take off along the road.
"You speak German?" Charles asks.
You shrug your shoulders. "My uncle knew a German hunter. I picked up a few basic words."
"You're full of surprises," Charles says with a smile and claps your shoulder. "Let's go. Any game is long gone by now anyway. At least we can tell Dutch that you kept us hidden."
------
Although you mentioned that Dutch doesn't have to know, Charles tells Hosea, so soon everybody knows. Dutch ends up thanking you while most of the gang fetch their food and you get a few appreciative words or nods. Only Sean acts completely unimpressed and brings forward the rumor that you've been born in another country, insisting on calling you German from now on.
You laugh with the others about it over your dinner until Charles sits down next to you. "I'd say they are ready. What do you think?"
He's holding a pair of crutches that the two of you made together for Arthur. They look great and are most definitely done. 
"What do we have here?" Hosea asks from the other side of the table.
Charles holds up the crutches for him to see. "We thought we should be prepared for when Arthur gets restless."
Hosea laughs. "I'm surprised you kept him in that bed for so long. He'll be happy about these. Have you checked on him today?"
"We were out the whole morning," you say, shoveling some stew into your mouth. Hosea's eyes are resting on you. You know you can't bullshit the man, though, so you swallow the mouthful as quickly as you can. "I'll do it now, give him the crutches. He should be on his feet in no time."
"That's good to hear."
Hosea smiles and so does Charles. They're happy to get Arthur back. You force a smile on your face while feeling the opposite. Of course, you want Arthur to get better and you know that your time is limited, but you never anticipated enjoying life with the gang so much.
Many times, you've been out hunting with Charles or fishing with Javier. When you find something more exotic to eat, Pearson lets you help prepare it. You love spending time with the girls and even Miss Grimshaw doesn't ride you as hard as some of the others since you try your best to help out wherever you can.
You remember a lot of evenings and nights at the fire, hearing stories from Hosea or Uncle, and how some of the gang members open up about their past. Most of them didn't just wake up one morning and decided to be bad and live as outlaws. At their core, they're good people. Once you have to go, you'll miss them.
Holding in a sigh, you put away your dish and take the crutches over to Arthur's tent. He's sitting up and reading, and the second you enter the tent, he looks up. After weeks of being tied to the bed, he must be dying to get out of here.
"Hey," you say, holding up the crutches. "I've got something for you. Charles made them."
Arthur's eyes grow wide. You can see the hope growing inside of him. "Does that mean-?"
"You still have to take it slow," you say, cutting him off, "but yes, you can get up. If you overdo it, you risk the leg."
"I won't!"
Arthur looks at you like a child that promises to be good and puts the book away. You hold up the crutches while he turns on the cot to reach for them. With a grunt, he tries to push himself up but immediately falls back down. 
"Goddammit!"
"I can get Charles," you say, "he can help you."
"You can do it," Arthur says. His voice sounds sure but he doesn't look at you.
"Oh, yeah. Sure," you say, your heart racing.
Although you constantly checked on Arthur's wound, the two of you barely spoke and you tried your best to touch Arthur as little as possible. The idea of helping him up makes you nervous.
Still, you bend down to let Arthur rest his arm on your shoulder and help him to stand up. You hold on to him as he wavers a little bit, and Arthur groans, leaning heavily on the crutches.
"It will still take a while until you'll get your strength back," you say and Arthur nods.
While you still hold your arms out to catch him if need be, Arthur takes his first careful steps. He's doing pretty well and while you're relieved that you contributed a lot to his health, your heart grows heavy. You don't have much time left.
"Alright, I'll just-" you say, ready to run away, but Arthur gives you a hopeful look.
"Can you come along? I want to make sure I can handle these."
He doesn't say it outright, but you know what he means. Arthur hates to be helpless and he has more pride than is good for him. He'd never recover if he fell in front of everybody.
"Sure," you say, trying to sound lighthearted. "We can get you some food."
As soon as you leave the tent, people are coming your way, congratulating Arthur on being back on his feet. He uses the group around him as an excuse to move as slowly as possible. 
It all looks good until there's a tiny bump on the ground. Before Arthur can lose his footing, you grab him by the arms and steady him, but for everybody looking you make it seem as if you're holding Arthur to push past him and leave the group.
You head over to the fire to fetch dinner for Arthur and the others get back to work. Only Charles stays behind to see the crutches in action. He walks with Arthur to the nearby table to sit down. "Seems like you're doing alright with them," he says.
"Yeah, thank you for making them," Arthur says. "I'm glad to be out of that bloody tent."
You put the plate in front of Arthur and Charles points at you. "Thank your friend here. He had the idea and gave me the measurements. I couldn't have done it without him."
Charles claps Arthur's shoulder and walks away. You mean to go as well, but Arthur's eyes rest on you in a way they haven't in a while and you can't help but bathe in the glory of it.
"Guess I have to thank you then," Arthur says, and for once, his voice is devoid of anger and accusation. "I was going crazy in there."
"I know," you say without meaning to and the words burn a hole in your chest. Of course, you know, because you know Arthur. In the short time you had together, you learned so much about him. He's an old friend you grew apart from, and it hurts.
Arthur moves the food around on his plate, clearing his throat. "Hosea will be pleased."
"Yeah, I guess," you say with a dry throat. "Not much longer now."
"Look," Arthur says, pushing the plate away and focusing on you. "I never…"
"Look who it is," John interrupts him. "Guess the good times are over."
You didn't hear him coming, but you're almost glad he stopped Arthur. Whatever he was about to say would have probably hurt you even more.
Arthur grunts. "Shut up, Marston."
"Keep that attitude for when you need it," John says, way more gleeful than you have seen him in a while. "We'll have a nice game of poker going on later. You in?"
His eyes wander from Arthur to you and back. Arthur's jaw is working as if he's biting back an answer, then he nods. "Sure, why not."
"Somebody has to take your money," you say, clapping John's shoulder. "So I guess, I'm in."
John beams. "I'll have to find Javier. He still owes me from last time."
He walks away and you feel Arthur's eyes resting on you again. As much as you enjoyed it moments ago, it begins to annoy you, knowing that it doesn't mean the same thing anymore.
"What?" you ask, the word sounding harsher than you intended.
"You seem to get along with everybody," Arthur simply states, taking the wind out of your sails. You can't fight with him when he's not being mean.
"Yeah, well, I had a lot of time to get to know everybody. They're good people."
"Except Micah."
Arthur grimaces and spits out the name, making you wonder once again why Arthur hates Micah so much.
"He has his merits," you say, although you don't particularly like Micah yourself.
Unlike with others, he's not outright unfriendly to you, more the opposite, but there's still something about him that makes you uneasy. Micah is a sweet talker if he wants to be, especially with Dutch. It doesn't take him much effort to find a person's buttons and he's all too willing to push them. Still, he's a little bit too slippery for your taste. He might be a great outlaw, but you don't trust him an inch.
"Should have shot him on sight," Arthur grunts. 
"Not too late to make another decision," you say. You're talking about Micah and Arthur shooting him, but Arthur looks grim. 
Your words must have reminded him of other decisions he made, you included, so you change the subject.
"If you're done eating, we could make another stop," you say, looking over to the horses.
"Sure," Arthur says. "You just have to-"
He doesn't finish the sentence when you already help him up. You only let go of him when he's standing upright. Together, you make your way over to Arthur's horse. 
Galahad is grazing right next to your stallion, coming a few steps closer as you arrive. You hold out a little treat and both horses happily eat out of your hands.
Arthur moves closer and Galahad almost pushes him over by throwing his whole head against him. Laughing, Arthur pats the horse's neck, looking over at you. "He doesn't really like other people."
"Ah well, I told him that I saved your life and he immediately adored me."
Arthur huffs. "How many?"
"Treats?" you ask, thinking back to the first few days when nobody could even go near Galahad. "So, so many. I tried everything from carrots to sugar cubes. You have quite the horse there."
"I know," Arthur says, still patting the horse. "Any chance I could-?"
"I wouldn't," you say, already prepared for that question. "Walking around is one thing, but riding-"
Lucky for you, Arthur just nods, for once not arguing with you. To make him feel better, you nod to the woods. "I took him out a few times, first just walks and then a few short rides. He got nasty when he didn't get out much. I think he has a few things in common with his owner."
Arthur tries to hide a smile but fails, so he shrugs. "I guess."
You end up brushing the two horses while Arthur sits on a haybale nearby and after a while, Arthur breaks the silence. "Does that poor horse of yours at least have a name yet?"
You rub your neck, not quite sure if you want to give out that information. "Uhm, actually, yes."
"And?" Arthur says, stretching the word.
"It's Meny."
"Many?" Arthur draws his brows together, doubting your answer.
"Well, it's not Many with an A but with an E. Men-y. The girls came up with it."
"Why?"
"It's men and Y. Because I like to ride men," you say after clearing your throat. "There might have been some whiskey involved."
Arthur laughs. "That much I understand. But what did you do that you had to let them name the poor horse?"
"It's not what I did. They did a lot for me when I first started here. It was sort of a thank you. When I go away from here, I'll take their kindness with me."
You regret saying all that in the end, but Arthur nods. "It's a good name."
After spending a little more time with the horses, you take Arthur back to his tent. It's the first time he doesn't scold you for leaving him there. You should be happy, but Arthur being friendly just reminds you of the early days and the times you won't get back. Maybe it's a good idea to leave here soon.
—------
You spend the afternoon in the woods, pretending to hunt. Pearson's probably not buying it when you come back with only one rabbit, but at least you wasted enough time for the poker game to start. 
John asks you to fetch Arthur, so you find yourself in Arthur's embrace again when you help him up from his cot. You walk with him for a few more steps, but then you give him room. After all, you don't want the others to make fun of him before arriving at the game.
Charles and Javier are already sitting at the table and John brings over a box of beer bottles. You notice that the girls aren't around. Karen joins in quite often and Tilly likes to swoop in whenever she's low on cash to unburden the guys of a few extra dollars. 
You grab a chair, about to ask John about the girls, when you see the reason for their absence. Micah. The girls tend to give him a wide berth and from the way he talks to even you, it's pretty clear why.
"Well, look at you," he says, running his eyes all over your body. "Always nice to catch a glimpse of the prettiest boy in camp. You don't mind, right?"
Micah points at the chair next to you, making you shrug your shoulders. "You got to sit somewhere."
Sitting down, Micah winks at you while licking his lips. You only roll your eyes and turn away from him. Meanwhile, Arthur looks at Micah as if he's about to beat him to a pulp with his crutches. After a few loaded seconds, his common sense pulls through, and he sits down next to you.
"Everybody ready?" John says, opening his beer bottle. You have a feeling that he'll soon be an easy target.
After confirming nods and grunts around the table, Charles is the first one to deal. You take turns after that, and you take your time during the first rounds, only betting low or folding. You've played with most of the gang members by now, and know a little about their ways. 
Javier has a little tell here and there, but he mixes having a good hand and bluffing so well that you're never quite sure about his cards. 
Charles has a near-perfect poker face, and like you, he likes to concentrate more on the other players than the cards. He'll find your weakness and is not afraid to use it.
Finding out about John was tricky at first, but now you know that he's complete chaos. His play changes based on his moods and his alcohol intake. He manages to win 50 cents with a straight but also takes out two players with a pair of threes. At least until he's drunk. Then he might as well just hand the cash over.
Sitting next to Micah, you find out even more about him. He likes to fake his reactions and seems to have a new tell every time you play. All about him is a lie, so it's never easy to see his bluff.
You've never played with Arthur before, but it's not hard to see what he's doing. Most of the time, he's honest about his cards. He folds early when he has nothing and only raises when there's something to back it up with. The problem is that you never know how much he has. Arthur likes betting on a pair just as much as betting on a full house.
It's interesting to see the guys interact like this, teasing each other and trying to make somebody slip up. Once in a while, you feel their eyes on you, but after all, it's only natural for them to size you up as well.
After you win a couple of times, they grow more careful about betting against you, and Micah runs out of patience. He focuses less on the game and more on going on everybody's nerves. The boys grind their teeth and tell him to shut up, but you have to wonder how much standing Micah has. They let him get away with things others might get a fist to the face for.
"How about the two of us cash out and have a beer in the woods?" Micah asks you in the middle of the round.
"How about you shut up and just play the damn game?" Arthur growls before you can say anything.
It becomes dead quiet and you hate the tingling feeling in your chest. You want Arthur to protect you, you want him to get jealous and shut Micah up, but it's not his business anymore, not after what he said to you.
"What's it to you?" Micah asks with a satisfied grin. "You want to make a claim or something?"
It becomes clear to you then that Micah has no interest in you at all. He might fool around as a nice byproduct of his scheme, but the goal has always been to hurt Arthur. They must hate each other even more than you thought, and you just got caught in the middle. That's why Arthur just stepped in. To scold Micah. Not because of you.
"Two pair," you say, leaning forward to break up the staring contest between Arthur and Micah. "Aces and kings."
The seconds tick by with all of them either staring at you and your cards until John throws his cards on the table. "Shit, not again!"
He's got a pair of queens, and while he sulks leaning back against his chair, the others put their cards down as well. Javier comes closest to you with Jacks and nines, but you still win.
"Still waiting for an answer," Micah says, still looking at you.
You pull the winnings over to your side of the table, not even looking at him. "Sorry, pal, I like it here for now."
Micah huffs and takes his money before leaving. Nobody tries to stop him, and you could have sworn that Arthur is hiding a smile. It's your turn to deal, though, so you can't be sure if you saw it right.
You win two more times before hitting a dry spell where you mostly fold. The others are more cheerful by now. You're not sure if it's the booze or because of Micah leaving, but pretty soon, John is basically giving away his money until he's left with only a fresh bottle of beer.
At some point, Charles decides to go to bed, and there are talks about ending the game, but then Micah comes back, about as drunk as John. Javier and Arthur take turns cleaning him out bit by bit while he flirts with you even more.
You think about leaving when Micah changes his tactics, obviously angry that he's getting nowhere with you.
"You know what?" he says while leaning over, the smell of him almost too hard for you to handle. "You're probably not even man enough for me. Playing coy like a girl."
"He's playing you," Javier says with a grin, but Micah keeps looking at you. 
"You can't handle me."
"Wanna bet?" you ask, anger rising in you as well.
"Let's go then," Micah says with a lewd smile, nodding over to the nearby trees.
"The game," you say, throwing a coin in the middle.
Micah does so as well, but looking at your cards, you fear that you might soon eat your words. All you have is an ace and a whole lot of nothing. You're about to fold, but when Micah looks at his cards, you notice a little twitch under his beard. 
You've never seen that before as it seems too small to be done on purpose. Although it's an idiotic move, you raise a little, bit by bit. Javier folds soon, and Arthur goes along until Micah keeps raising more and more. 
It looks like he has a good hand, but you can't forget his face. There's no way he's not bluffing.
"This is too rich for me," Arthur grunts when he folds, and you know you should do the same, but you're unwilling to hand Micah the win.
Instead, you raise again, and after Micah goes all-in, it's time to face the music. You both put your cards down, and everybody leans over to see who won. 
"You have nothing," Javier says, surprise in his voice. "Both of you."
"He's got the Ace," Arthur says, nodding at you.
Micah stares at you. "But you never raise on nothing."
Your heart beats as if you've been caught doing something illegal. It's true that you rarely bluff, at least not with that much money involved. 
"People change," you say, trying hard to keep your voice steady.
"He's got you," Javier laughs and Arthur does nothing to hide a big grin.
Micah scoffs, but the truth is that you just won a big pile of money, simply for holding an ace when he didn't. You lean over to collect the money, smiling like an idiot. 
"You're lucky you're pretty," Micah says, leaving the table without looking back.
Javier gets up and claps your shoulder. "That, my friend, was a pleasure to watch."
He walks over to lie down next to Charles, and you turn to Arthur. "You want to play it out?"
"No. You take that money and you spend it on something stupid. Micah worked for that."
You both laugh, unable to hold in the joy of sticking it to Micah. He probably won't be as nice to you anymore, but seeing Arthur in a good mood is worth a thousand angry Micahs.
Without him asking, you help Arthur up again. He's getting better with the crutches and won't need your help anymore. After walking back to his tent, you make good use of the last chance you might ever get. 
When Arthur has his arm around you, you let him sink on his cot as slowly as you possibly can, feeling his warm body against yours and breathing in his scent. He lets go, his fingers dragging along the skin on your neck for just a second, waking a million memories in your mind.
You have to get away from him, from here, from all of this - as fast as possible.
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ketchhhaglendadelle · 1 month
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聖<矛There is a(1) sound(Maintains Form Across Space(MANAgable) source(says someone else)
正リワ This is Seiriwa Road.
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王 it came from a place in space
καρέ Name is frame ロ,mouth,B, (a(1)cross as a part of)
τίτλος Dual titan spun fresh; 出 is exit wound is a spelling
δράμα rawJah ( ̄ー ̄)
Δράμα yeah, I smoke!Σ( ̄□ ̄;)
;Lessis it meVoid ourse
rs.正Volution ユアリ jtherefore there's a Legal Identity via 耳co。m'口posure
The term is related to alumnぬus蟶,彁literally meaning a "nursling" or "one who is nourished", that frequently is used for a graduate.
マI haven't
ヒin my hand is)
the foggiest;🚬
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nicodemuslily · 8 months
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In daddy's arms
Because I always find this interaction ultimately cute (and sexy...), here are some sketches of Jack in his father's arms. Because we didn't see enough moments like that. >_<
The first sketch follows the Halloween episode in which Jack disguised himself in his only superhero: his father. On the road to find the rest of the team (and JJ with Henry), Jack proudly shown his father the fake FBI accredition Jessica made for him (as SSA Jack Hotchner, of course).
The second one is just a close-up of my "under the stars" sketchdump.
Under the stars This page shows illustrations from... (tumblr.com)
All the others take place at different time, not defined. Except the last two.
The second-to-last is an illustration of a scene in my fanfic "Scars".
And here is another text for my Hotch-centric... (tumblr.com)
And the last one happened during the first night after Haley's death. Aaron has to deal with this four year old kid without being prepared for it. He has no clothes for him, to toothpast, no movie and he can't cook properly. And when Jack asked again where his mom is, he has to explain to him that he won't see her again. And when Jack suddenly saw his father bursting into tears, the little kid did the only thing he thought it could help - what his mother was doing to him when he was in pain: he gave him a hug.
___
Well, I was supposed to post my entry for an october writing contest next wednesday but, due to family business, I won't be able to do so. Then, I'll probably post it the week after and the other texts after that.
___
And the DA link for a better view >> In daddy's arms by NicodemusLily on DeviantArt
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