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munsonsmixtapes · 1 month

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Lost Number pt. I

Here’s Part 2!

Word count: 19,805

Paring: Eddie Munson x plus size!fem!reader

CW: 18+ MDNI smut, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving)

Rhythm Riot Music Festival, Los Angeles, June, 1990

The venue was packed and if you were honest, you didn’t even want to be there. You were just trying to be a good girlfriend and cheer on your wannabe rockstar boyfriend. You never liked big crowds and the loud music gave you a headache, but you wanted to be supportive so you always stood side stage with a pair of earplugs, singing along.

Being the band’s manager, you somehow were able to book them a slot in a festival that was meant specifically for rock/metal. They were playing alongside a bunch of big names and your own boyfriend didn’t even seem grateful that you had gotten him the biggest gig of his career.

You didn’t want to admit it, but your relationship had been rocky for months. You were together but you weren’t. It was as if you both knew it was over but neither of you wanted to be the first to actually utter the words. He wasn’t the same man you fell in love with. You didn’t recognize him anymore with the way he was dressing and especially the way he was treating you and his own band mates. You would try to talk to him about it but were always met with doors slamming in your face or just straight up denial.

You paced back and forth in the hallway outside their dressing room while the band were getting ready for their performance. You weren’t allowed in because you were deemed a “distraction” despite the fact that Chris barely even spared you a second glance anymore. You were forced to wait until it was time for them to go onstage to make sure they had everything they needed even though most of the time they didn’t and they ended up being late.

One of the acts passed you having just come off stage and you couldn’t keep your eyes off the pretty lead singer as he nodded in your direction. You figured that would be it, but he stopped in front of you and you didn’t miss how he was checking you out. He crossed his arms over his chest, a smirk kicking up at the corner of his lips.

You had only ever seen Eddie Munson on TV or in magazines which didn’t do him justice. He was much prettier in person which you didn’t think was possible, but there he stood in front of you looking like something that came out of your dreams. He was dressed in a leather jacket with nothing underneath and pair of matching leather pants and you had to stop yourself from staring at his chest and the tattoos that were covering it. Even though Chris wasn’t really your boyfriend anymore, you’d never forgive yourself for cheating on him.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here by yourself?” Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side.

Before you could answer, the door behind him opened and the members of Void stepped out. Your boyfriend looked between you and Eddie and felt jealousy rush through him. He didn’t care if the two of you were practically broken up, you were still his and there was no way that he’d let Eddie fucking Munson steal you away from him.

“Hey baby,” he greeted you with a bright smile. He’d never called you that throughout your entire relationship. He hadn’t really called you anything except for your name. “It’s time for us to go onstage.” Honestly, you couldn’t have given less of a fuck about him. All you cared about was the absolute smoke show in front of you.

“I’ll see you after?” Chris asked, stepping over to stand next to you. He took one of your shoulder in his hand and turned you to face him before resting his hands on your waist.

“Yeah-“ you couldn’t even finish before his lips were on yours. He was quick to stick his tongue in your mouth which caught you off guard. He hadn’t kissed you like that in a long time and you wondered what had gotten into him. This was all about him. All for show. To send Eddie a message, to show him that you belonged to Chris.

You were quick to pull away, unsure of what he was doing and why he was doing it. Because it clearly wasn’t for you like he wanted you to believe. That was who he was now, the kind of guy who did things only because they would benefit him in some way.

“Uh, have a good show,” was all you were able to say. You were trying to say the right thing, knowing that the wrong one wouldn’t end well for you. He was becoming so sensitive, like you had to say or do just the right thing or else he would get angry. One wrong move and it was game over for everyone.

“That’s it?” He asked a little too loudly. “You push me away and that’s all you have to say?” He was the one who kissed you out of nowhere and he was the one who was upset?

“I-“ You tried to defend yourself but he cut you off be for you could.

“Save it. I have to get on stage. You better have a better attitude when I get back,” he pointed at you before heading to the stage, the others following close behind. You knew you should have gone with him, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Especially when most of the songs were about a relationship that you didn’t have anymore. It just reminded you of what used to be and it broke your heart that you two had grown apart so much when you were convinced that you were going to be together forever. You had laid side by side talking about how you were going to get married and now you couldn’t even remember the last time you slept in the same bed.

“Where the hell are you going?” Eddie asked Chris as he made his way to the stage. You were so in your head that you had forgotten he was even there. He wasn’t going to let Chris get away with speaking to you that way. Eddie wasn’t a saint by any means, but he’d never speak to anyone that way. Especially not his girlfriend. Chris only flipped him off not even bothering to turn around to face him. He disappeared around the corner and Eddie just let out a sigh, accepting defeat.

He turned to you to see how you were holding up and could see by the look on your face that you were tired. Whether it was because of lack of sleep or because of your dickhead of a boyfriend he didn’t know.

“I know he’s your boyfriend and all but his band fucking sucks.”

“I know,” you nodded, leaning against the wall. You hated that he was right. You tried to be supportive of Chris, but you just couldn’t. Sure, the lyrics were catchy, but they weren’t really about anything. At first, they wrote some of the most beautiful things you’d ever heard, but after they got that first check, it was like a switch was flipped. Now all they wanted was to write music that they thought people wanted to hear, not songs that actually meant anything. That would mean that they actually had to care about their work and weren’t just wanting to be paid.

That was what made Void different from the other bands in their genre. The others actually believed in their music. They poured their hearts and souls into it and it was obvious when people listened to it. It was the reason why they were all so popular. People could connect to what they were singing about and could relate to the words in one way or another.

After a while, all Void wanted was the fame, money, and girls and it showed. They never rehearsed before going on stage anymore or made sure that their instruments were tuned properly. The only reason why they even got the gig in the first place was because you had to practically beg the people who were running the event. How could you root for them when they were so bad that you had to ask for them to be invited to play?

“And no offense sweetheart, but he’s kind of a dick,” Eddie added. That was something you still weren’t able to admit to yourself. Gone was the man who’d make you breakfast in the morning and make up songs about how much he loved you while he did it. Gone was the man who you felt like you could tell anything to and he wouldn’t judge you. He was behaving like a completely different person and you felt like you couldn’t even be around him anymore.

“None taken,” you shook your head. “I’m very well aware. I plan on breaking up with him after the festival.” You actually hadn’t thought about it at all but now that you said it, you felt like you had to go through with it. You felt like you owed that to yourself. You had dealt with Chris’s bullshit long enough.

“Good for you,” he nodded. “I’d hate for you to settle.” He’d have been lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you. Typical Eddie wanting something he couldn’t have. You were just so pretty and he tried to keep himself from admiring the way your outfit hugged every curve of your body.

“Well, unfortunately, I think I’m only attracted to losers.”

“That’s a real shame, sweetheart. I thought we had something going here,” he nudged your shoulder. His tone made it sound like he was joking but there was a hint of truth to his words. He had every intention of flirting with you until he found out you had a boyfriend.

“I didn’t think I was your type.”

“I didn’t think I had one.” Eddie wasn’t aware he had a type. How could he when he had only recently been getting female attention? He was still trying to figure out why women were even interested in him in the first place so who was he to deny any of it?

“Oh, you know what I mean.” You waved your hand in a dismissive manner and he didn’t like what you were implying.

“Clearly, I don’t.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows furrowing. You hadn’t meant to offend him. You thought you were just stating the obvious. You’d only seen him with girls who looked nothing like you. They were all skinny not to mention literal models. You clearly didn’t fit into that category so you didn’t see why he would have been interested in you. It wasn’t like you cared. It wasn’t like anything would come of it even if he did.

“I’ve seen you on the covers of all the gossip magazines, okay? I know what you’re like.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “You really believe that bullshit? You know that everything’s fake. I mean, sure, I was hanging out with those girls and maybe I slept with a couple of them, but that doesn’t mean that they’re the only kind of girls I’m interested in.”

“Then what are you interested in?”

“Anything.” He stepped closer to you but still kept his distance, not wanting to push your boundaries.

“Even me?” You hadn’t meant to say that out loud but you were just too curious. If you were being honest, you had developed a little crush on the singer and had even made him your hall pass, that Chris had agreed on if he could have Whitney Houston. That was only because he never thought it would happen. But there Eddie was, shamelessly flirting with you and you couldn’t get yourself to do the same because you felt like you were betraying Chris.

“Oh, especially you, sweetheart. In this little thing?” He referred to your skirt. “Stopped me in my tracks.” Your face grew hot at his comment. You hadn’t been flirted with in a while and missed the way it felt to have someone actually be attracted to you. You wondered why you were even still with Chad when you had a man who was the total package right in front of you.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.” You couldn’t tell whether or not he was actually being genuine or if he was just trying to get into your pants. Either way, you were going to take it. You just wanted attention and here he was, offering it up to you on a silver platter.

“If I was trying to make you feel better, I’d tell you how fucking gorgeous I think you are.” His eyes trailed down your body, taking his time to look at every inch of it and you didn’t miss how he spent a longer time on your legs. “Well, sweetheart, I should get back to my dressing room. It was nice to meet you-“ he paused, realizing that he hadn’t gotten your name.

“Y/n,” you replied, putting your hand out to shake unsure of why you were doing it.

“Y/n,” he repeated, taking his time with each syllable while taking your hands in his. “Sounds like a great song name,” he winked before reluctantly pulling his hand away. “Anyway, I’ll catch you later, alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around,” you nodded and he turned on his heel to head back to his dressing room. You watched him walk away until he disappeared around the corner, wondering how he managed to even make walking look attractive.

You pressed yourself against the wall and fiddled with the pass that was hanging around your neck while Void was finishing up their set, wondering what the fuck just happened. You had just had a conversation with Eddie Munson and you didn’t sound like an idiot like you thought you would have if you had ever gotten the chance to meet him. He liked you and had even flirted with you and you hadn’t done the same in fear that your boyfriend would have found out. You didn’t know why you cared. Chris would have jumped at the chance to sleep with his celebrity crush and you were still faithful to him despite the fact that you knew that he was probably (definitely) cheating on you.

Your ears perked up as Chris announced that they were going to play their last song which just so happened to be their most popular. You wondered what people would have said if they found out that you wrote it despite not having any credit on the song at all. Chris had found the lyrics in your notebook and passed them off as his own in a writing session. You didn’t want to embarrass him so you called him out as soon as you were alone with him, but he couldn’t have given less of a fuck that he had hurt you.

Not only had he invaded your privacy by going through your private journal, he had given the song away which had ended up on their debut record and had quickly become their most popular song to date. There was something so sick and twisted about him profiting off of a song that you had written about how horribly he had treated you. He used your pain and turned it into something that would make him money while you hadn’t seen a single dime. It had gotten to the point where you couldn’t even be proud of it because it was tainted by your greedy boyfriend and his bandmates.

You headed to the dressing room and sat on the couch, awaiting the band’s arrival. If you didn’t, they were more than likely to leave without you, you practically being an afterthought to them. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but you knew that it wouldn’t have made any difference if you weren’t there. All of your suggestions were always met by vetos because God forbid a woman actually had a good idea. They treated you like their servant and you were starting to wonder why you had stayed so long. It certainly wasn’t the money since they weren’t paying you and it definitely wasn’t because of your piece of shit boyfriend.

It was about time that you stood up for yourself and did things that you actually wanted to do. You didn’t want to get their coffee or cigarettes or hem their pants because they were too long. You were over restringing their guitars and tuning them only for them to need new strings and another tune after one performance. You were tired of them taking advantage of you and you weren’t going to take it any longer. Void could find another manager, one who was more cut out for the job. And Chris could certainly find another woman to satisfy his needs. He wouldn’t miss you and you definitely wouldn’t miss him.

The door swung open and Chris entered the room followed by Joey and Max. They were all laughing about something but it quickly came to a stop when they locked eyes on you. You could see Chris’s eyes form into a glare. It was the kind of look that someone would give their enemy, not their significant other.

“What are you doing here?” He spit. Like he didn’t want you there and you knew he didn’t. He never wanted you around unless it benefitted him.

“I was waiting on you.” His eyebrows furrowed at your words as if he was confused. You always waited for him to get off stage, you just didn’t do it in his dressing room.

“Why?” The words came out like he was offended which you thought was weird. Why wouldn’t he want you to wait for him? He used to love coming back to you but now he was treating you as if you were a piece of gum that got stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“To tell you that I quit.” You crossed your arms over your chest and you kind of liked that he was getting angry. It showed how much he relied on you and how fucked he was going to be when you were gone.

“Quit?” He let out a laugh as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. “You can’t just quit, y/n. We have a contract.” Did he mean the contract that he typed up one night when he drunkenly suggested that you should be Void’s manager? Back when he still thought you had good ideas. Back when he still loved you.

“Which isn’t legally binding so I can quit if I damn well please and I do.” You stood up from the couch with a newfound confidence, feeling a thousand pounds lighter. “Also, I’m breaking up with you.” The three boys’ mouths dropped open, like they couldn’t believe what you were saying. Chris’s eyes quickly turned dark, a look that always scared you.

“No you’re not,” he let out a chuckle. He wasn’t going to let you leave. You couldn’t. Not when he still had laundry that needed to be done and his guitar needed to be tuned.

“I am, actually. I’m leaving tonight and getting on the first plane out of here.” You had no idea how you were going to do that, but you were going to figure it out. You needed to get the fuck out of there and you needed to do it right then.

“With what money?” He laughed and Joey and Max joined in, the three of them laughing hysterically at you. For once, you didn’t feel embarrassed.

“Oh, believe me, I can find some.” You were sure that there were plenty of nice men in the city who would be happy to lend you some money.

“This is bullshit,” he shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing. He was angry and for the first time, you didn’t care that you had upset him. It was what he deserved for being a piece of shit.

“No, whats bullshit is how long I stood by your side taking your terrible treatment.” You shook your head. “I’ve been nothing but loyal to you while you’ve been fucking other girls behind my back.”

“I-“ He eyes were darting around the room as if he was he was avoiding making eye contact with you. He definitely was. You were right and he didn’t want to admit it. He was a selfish prick and had been too caught up in his own life to see how terribly he had treated you. Maybe if he could have apologized, you’d would’ve stayed.

“Don’t even try to deny it. I saw the Polaroids. Not only that, but I’m fucking tired of being treated like garbage. I’m a human. Did you forget that? You must have since all I seem to be to you is a servant. You’re a dick and so are you,” you pointed to the other boys. “Well, good luck, you guys. You’re gonna need it.” You grabbed your purse and made your way to the door and slammed it as soon as you were out of the room.

Before you realized what you were doing, you were heading to the bathroom in angry stomps, muttering to yourself about what had just happened. He had laughed at you when you told him that you were going to leave. The only reason why you didn’t have any money was because he had used up any little bit you had. Whether it was asking to borrow a twenty before he was supposed to be paid or just straight up stealing it from your wallet, you never seemed to have enough for yourself.

You shut yourself in one of the stalls and before you could stop it, tears were streaming down your face. Whether they were of happiness or sadness you didn’t know. All you knew was that you were relieved. You felt a huge weight lift from your shoulders. It was like you could finally breathe again, as if Chad had been suffocating you all those years. You were finally free and there was nothing he could do to stop you or make you stay.

You reached for some toilet paper only to find that the roll was empty, the only thing left being the cardboard. That only made you cry harder. Couldn’t you have anything? You had barely any money to your name to get a flight home, no where to go after the festival since you shared an apartment with Chris, and no friends that were your own. You were fucked and it was finally settling in. Maybe if you begged, he’d let you stay with him just until you got back on your feet. Fat chance. He’d probably already have someone else by the time you got back home with your stuff at the curb while the two of them laughed at you from the open window.

You exited the stall and reached for a paper towel before dabbing at your tears then fixing your smudged makeup with what you had in your purse, making sure there were no remnants of your tears. You’d be damned if anyone saw you cry. Especially over a man. You wanted them all to think you weren’t affected. You wanted them to think that you were nothing but a bad bitch.

After you fixed your hair and makeup, you fled the bathroom before taking the band’s car to head back to the hotel. You were surprised that they hadn’t left yet and were even more surprised that the driver had believed you when you told him that the band told you to go ahead.

You looked out the window and tried not to think all of the problems you caused for yourself. Maybe that was why you stayed with Chris for so long. Not because you wanted to make it work, but because you were scared of what it meant for your future. Now you actually had to think about it and hated how much he had fucked up for you. Of course you had moved into his apartment so you had nowhere to go when you finally got home. You supposed that you could live in your car until you got a job and saved enough to find somewhere to live more permanently. That was, if you actually found a way to get home. All you had was five hundred dollars to your name, which you were grateful to have anything, but that would have only covered your flight, not leaving much for anything else you were going to need.

The car pulled up to the hotel and you felt the tears fall again as you entered the building. You held it all in until you got to the elevator. Once the doors closed, you collapsed to the floor and let it all out, grateful that you were the only one there. You let out a loud scream out of frustration and felt relief rush through you as you did so. It was almost therapeutic in a way. It was years of repressed emotions that you were finally able to feel. You had bottled them up for so long that you were sure that they had to come out eventually and here they were, finally being able to breathe.

You exited the elevator when it stopped on your floor, wiping the tears from your face, grateful that no one else had been in the hallway. You opened the door to your room, still pissed that you had to share with Chris because you didn’t have enough money for your own room. You threw your bag onto the bed and frantically packed up your belongings into your suitcase, practically tearing the room apart partially in anger and partially because you couldn’t even find anything in the pig sty that Chris had created.

You rifled through the drawers on your side of the bed, finding all of your smaller belongings like your sleep mask and vibrator which you hadn’t even gotten a chance to use because Chris had always been in the room. You sure as hell knew he wasn’t going to satisfy you so you had to take matters into your own hands. Not that he ever satisfied you when you did sleep together.

You went through the drawers on the other side and stopped when you came across an envelope underneath Chris’s journal. You pulled it out of the drawer and noticed that your name was written on it in your mother’s neat handwriting. You turned it over and to your surprise, it wasn’t opened. You ripped it open and noticed a bunch of bills sitting inside it. It had to be hundreds of dollars. Hundreds of dollars that belonged to you. It was the money your parents had said they were going to send because they knew you had been struggling. It was your money and he took it, not even bothering to tell you that it had actually been sent. You had gotten into multiple arguments with your parents over it and now you felt bad for getting upset with them. It seemed like all of your problems always led back to Chris.

You pulled the cash out of the envelope and counted it, realizing that it had been much more than you had anticipated and you were grateful that it was all actually there. You set the cash on top of the drawer and turned the envelope back over only to see that it had been addressed to your old apartment meaning that Chris had been holding onto it for at least six months before the two of you had moved into your new place.

You put the cash back into the envelope and threw it into your purse before putting the journal back where it belonged and closing the drawer. When you went on your first date with Chris, you never thought he’d turn into such a dick. He had been sweet and caring and would have called out the man you just broke up with. He always hated guys like that so you weren’t sure what had happened that made him become one. Was it your fault? No, it couldn’t have been. What had you done except love him unconditionally?

It was late so you decided to head to bed, setting an alarm on the clock so you could get to the airport to catch a flight before Chris even woke up. He didn’t deserve a goodbye. You never wanted to see him again and if you had anything to do with it, you wouldn’t.

You threw on some pajamas and brushed your teeth, enjoying having the room to yourself since all Chris seemed to want to do was talk to you about shit that you could have not given less of a fuck about or made comments about what you were wearing or how you did your hair.

Since you had gotten to the room first, you decided that you were going to take the bed, the couch having done a number on your back having slept on it multiple nights in a row. It was just as soft at you thought it would be and you laid your head on the pillow feeling exhausted from the events that had taken place in only a matter of a few hours. You deserved a good night’s sleep after all the shit you had been through in the past twenty four hours.

Eddie entered the dressing room where Jeff, Gareth, and Doug were all sitting on the couch, the three of them still sweating from their performance and they each were nursing a beer. They all turned to Eddie whose cheeks were tinted a light red and a smile was playing on his pretty pink lips. He pressed himself against the door and stuck his hands into his pockets, staring at his band members as they all waited for him to speak, wanting to know if he got a number or not.

“Well?” Jeff asked since he knew the others wouldn’t. The four of them still weren’t used to female attention.

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Eddie sighed pushing himself off of the door and heading over to the vanity to fix his hair.

“Damn,” Gareth replied.

“Sorry man,” Doug added.

“I was so close to flirting with her when her piece of shit boyfriend came out of his dressing room. I could see the way he was looking at me,” he moved his hair this way and that, trying to make it look like less of a mess but he was sure that he was making it worse. “He was clearly threatened. Even stuck his tongue down her throat to send me a message. He was looking at me the whole time.”

“What a freak,” Gareth commented.

“And get this,” Eddie stopped messing with his hair and turned around to face the boys, resting his hands on the vanity and leaning against it. “He’s the lead singing of Void.”

“They’re a shit show,” Jeff shook his head.

“I know. Their only good song is Hurt and I heard that they didn’t even write it.”

“Not surprising,” Doug rolled his eyes. “You didn’t hear this from me, but I heard that they weren’t even invited and that their manager had to beg to let them play.”

“You’re kidding,” Eddie let out a laugh, leaning over as he did so, probably thinking that it was more funny than it probably was. “That’s fucking hilarious.”

“And probably true,” Jeff pointed out.

“So what are you going to do about the girl?” Gareth asked. Eddie didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know he was supposed to something. You were in a relationship and he definitely wasn’t going to get in the middle of it, especially not when Chris seemed to not be able to control his anger and could have easily knocked Eddie out with one punch.

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “She’s just a pretty girl, you know? There are plenty of those everywhere.” That was just what he was telling himself so he’d feel better. He felt bad for thinking it, but it pissed him off that guys like Chris got to have you while guys like Eddie had no one. Sure, being in the lead singer in a band helped him in the ladies department, but girls didn’t seem nearly as attracted to him as they were to guys who treated them like garbage. Was he not mean enough? Was that it? Did women just like assholes? Maybe he should have asked Chris since clearly there was something that he was missing.

“I know that’s right,” Doug went to high five him and Eddie ignored him, pushing off of the vanity. He began to pace, something he always did when he needed to think.

Now it all made sense. Of course they were only performing because their manager begged. No one in their right mind would have asked Void to perform and they certainly wouldn’t have done it willingly. It was putting bands like them on the same level as Corroded Coffin and Eddie didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all.

Bands like Void took away from other bands who actually enjoyed what they were doing, making it hard for anyone to be taken seriously. It was hurting the industry and it pissed Eddie off that they were getting praise when they were only in it for the fame when bands like Corroded Coffin were doing it because they loved making music. It was a form of therapy for them. And now there was a group of phonies who everyone was worshipping because they had one hit.

“Whatever,” Eddie shook his head. “We still have tomorrow to be even better so we should get some rest.”

“I thought we were going out.” They usually did after every show, drinking and flirting, some of them getting lucky and others not so much. Eddie loved getting drunk but couldn’t stand the feeling of being hungover, sometimes not even wanting to drink because of it. He always eventually gave in when Jeff would urge a shot into his hand. It always looked so inviting that he had to get a taste and before he knew it, he was many drinks deep, stumbling out of the building with his arm around a girl who he definitely thought was out of his league.

“I think Eddie is a little pouty that he didn’t get that girl’s number,” Gareth teased. Eddie didn’t like the way that Gareth was talking about you, like you were just a girl he struck out with. He definitely would have be in if you hadn’t been with Chris. But that wasn’t what bothered him. He hated that you were being spoken about as if you were an object. You weren’t. You were so much more than that. You were a person and he hated that he always had to remind the guys that they couldn’t just treat women however they wanted because they were famous. They deserved nothing but respect.

“Her name is y/n.” Maybe Eddie was a little upset because you were dating someone, but he’d get over it. He always did. You were just another girl and he could easily find another one who wasn’t attached to anyone. And that was what he planned to do. If he could ever stop thinking about your tiny skirt and your thick thighs that he desperately wanted to bury his head between.

“Okay, sorry, very pouty,” Gareth corrected, putting his hands up in defense. “C’mon dude, you can find someone to help you get over her. The Ruby Room is always crawling with babes.” Gareth was right about that. Eddie was always able to get lucky at The Ruby Room, girls crowding themselves around him like they thought he was somebody that they actually wanted to hang out with. He still wasn’t entirely used to the attention considering he never got any back home since everyone either thought he was a loser or a cult leader even though he was very much neither. Sometimes he couldn’t believe that women wanted him, like they were mistaking him for someone else, but when they would moan his name and his name only, he knew that there was no mistake.

Eddie headed over to the door, ready to head out. His mission now being to get as drunk as possible instead of heading to bed like he probably should have. He couldn’t go to bed sober, especially since you were on his mind. He didn’t like you, you were just someone he was trying to hook up with who happened to have a boyfriend. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t the type to be. He definitely wasn’t disgusted by thinking about what you were probably doing with Chris and how he wanted to be the reason for your pleasure.

“Well,” Eddie turned to his bandmates that were still sitting on the couch. They all stood up and followed Eddie out of the room. He was hoping that he’d see you but only found Void packing up their equipment with you nowhere to be found. He wanted to know where you had run off to.

“Don’t touch that,” Chris smacked Max’s hand that was reaching for Chris’s guitar. Chris had been in an even worse mood since you had broken up with him and now Max and Joey were paying for it. He couldn’t believe that you were leaving him. Him. He thought he had done so much for you over the years and this was how you repaid him? He had let you live with him when the lease on your apartment was up when he could have just let you live on the street. He let you tour with his band when he could have just left you at home. He even used your stupid song and you were just being ungrateful.

“What do you posers want,” Chris snapped as he turned to the foursome. If looks could kill, they all definitely would have been dead, especially Eddie. They were each hoping that the other had left already so they wouldn’t risk running into each other, but clearly that was just wishful thinking.

“Where’s y/n?” Eddie asked, wondering aloud. He didn’t know why he cared, but he was hoping that you were okay. He had hoped that you had dumped Chris’s sorry ass just like you had said you would.

“Kicked her to the curb,” Chris shrugged as if he was unbothered by your breakup. He turned his back to put his guitar into the case then turned back to Eddie once he was done. “You’re more than welcome to have her, Munson,” he let out a chuckle. “I should warn you, though, she doesn’t really put out.” Eddie took a deep breath, trying very hard not to take the bait. He wasn’t the fighting type, but goddamn was it tempting to punch that fucker square in the face.

“If I remember correctly, she told me that she was going to break up with you.” Just from looking at Chris, Eddie could tell that he was lying through his teeth. Especially since his band members didn’t seem to want to back him up. They just packed up their equipment, seeming unbothered by Chris’s behavior which caused Eddie to believe that he did things like this often.

“Oh, did she? Since you guys are so close, right? Well, you were wrong. I dumped her and now she’s at the hotel probably crying her eyes out.”

“I actually bet she’s at The Ruby Room right now getting cozy with someone that’s definitely not you. I bet he’ll take her to the bathroom and make her feel much more pleasure than you ever could.” Eddie was now inches away from him, trying to hold back a laugh at how red his face was. Eddie actually wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he hoped that whatever you were up to was going to piss Chris off.

“You don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about, Munson,” Chris poked Eddie’s chest.

“I don’t?” Eddie raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. “Because from the way she was reacting with your tongue down her throat, she didn’t seem to like it or you for that matter.”

“We’re going through a rough patch.” Chad genuinely believed that. He figured that you were just on your period and needed time to cool off before you’d come running back to him like nothing happened. He didn’t know that you had every intention of catching the first flight out in the morning.

“Right,” Eddie nodded. “So rough that she even admitted that your band fucking sucks. And that you’re an asshole. Cleary you don’t know her as well as you thought you did.” Chris was like a bomb that was seconds from going off. Anger was bubbling inside of him and his eyes were filled with rage.

“Alright, I’m tired of your shit, Edward.” Chris poked his chest again. Eddie wasn’t going to give in as tempting as it was. All Chris was looking for was a fight and Eddie had no intention of giving him what he wanted.

“Am I upsetting you, Douglas?” Eddie put on a fake pout and he could have sworn that he could see smoke coming out of Chris’s ears. He didn’t think he would actually hit him like he seemed to want to. He was a pussy after all.

“You should be so happy that I haven’t kicked your ass.”

“Like you could,” Eddie let out a laugh. Sure, Chris was ripped and could definitely win the fight, but he was all bark and no bite. There was no actual heat to his threats. Without another word, Chris punched Eddie square in the nose causing the singer to stumble backwards. He clutched his nose and just as soon as he was able to stand up straight, Chris went in for another punch, this time his hitting Eddie’s left eye. He stepped back again while the members of Void were quick to run off with their belongings, disappearing around the corner as quickly as possible. Jeff, Gareth, and Doug were quick to rush to Eddie’s aid, all wincing at the way his face looked once he finally pulled his hand away.

The foursome headed back to the dressing room, Gareth holding onto Eddie, making sure that he was okay as they walked. He thought it was his duty, them being best friends and all. He’d been there for Eddie’s good, bad, and ugly. He had seen how everyone in Hawkins had treated him and despite how much he stood up for the boy, nobody would relent. He was just a kid who played a role-play game with his friends and everyone thought that made him evil.

Gareth helped Eddie sit down in the chair in front of the vanity and handed him some tissues and a couple Advil along with a water bottle. If a few little comments set Chad off, Eddie wondered just how you were treated when he was actually upset. He hoped that Chris hadn’t laid a finger on you unless it was lovingly. But he was pretty sure that the guy didn’t have a single loving bone in his body.

Eddie turned to the mirror and stuck a tissue in each of his nostrils, trying to get a good look at his face. There wasn’t any real damage but the blood. For a couple of punches, Chris really got him good. He could feel the pain coursing through his nose all the way to his head. He didn’t look too bad but knew it would be worse in the morning. Maybe he could garner some sympathy with a sob story to ensure that he’d be able to take someone home.

Eddie took the Advil and threw back some water to wash it all down, feeling like his head was pounding. As he cleaned himself up, the band gathered up all of their belongings and headed to their car to take them back to their hotel so they could freshen up before their night out. Eddie didn’t care if he had the worst headache known to man, he was going to get some. He didn’t even care with who, he just felt like he needed something good after the shit he had been through.

The car pulled up to the building and Eddie practically jumped out, as soon as it stopped moving. He made a beeline for the elevator while the rest leisurely followed him, Gareth carrying his guitar since that hadn’t really been a worry of Eddie’s. All he was concerned about was getting out of the stupid leather and jumping in the shower to wash off the shitty day.

The elevator opened and the four of them stepped inside, Eddie tapping his foot against the floor. He didn’t know why he was so anxious, but his heart was racing and he couldn’t seem to stay still. He was just very suddenly aware of how his clothes were sticking to his sweaty skin and how dirty his hair felt. The doors opened on their floor and he practically ran down the hall, pulling his room key out of his pocket as he did so. He opened the door and slammed it behind him, so grateful that him and the other members of the band all got their own rooms. He could pace around with his guitar, humming the lyrics to a song he was writing at three am if he damn well pleased. He no longer needed to take showers just to have his much needed alone time after being overstimulated the whole day.

Eddie stripped himself of his clothes and left them in a small pile in the floor by his bed. His whole room had been a mess and he figured he should have cleaned it if he was going to bring a girl back there, but that would be after his shower. He entered the bathroom and turned the shower on, humming along to the stupid song that Void had performed before they left the stage. He hated their guts, but goddamn was it catchy. He’d give them that. He couldn’t help but think about how different it sounded to the rest of their songs. The other ones were so shallow and misogynistic and Hurt was so beautifully written that he thought it couldn’t have possibly been written by them, not even Chris. Especially not Chris.

Once the water was hot enough, Eddie jumped into the shower, taking his time to wash every inch of his body. It was something that he usually did pretty quickly just to get it over with because of how much he hated to look at it. He hated that he wasn’t as ripped as the other guys around town and the fact women either laughed at him or were scared of him definitely didn’t help. If he was being honest, it wasn’t until he lost his virginity that he actually felt a sliver of confidence. He had no fucking clue what he was doing, but the fact someone actually gave him the time of day and wanted to see him naked made him feel significantly better about himself.

Now he was the lead singer of one of the biggest metal bands in the industry and both men and women actually seemed to like him. He didn’t care if it was genuine or just because he was famous. He’d take any affection he could get no matter the intention. Whether they were into his personality or his body, it didn’t matter to him, as long as it was consensual and they were comfortable was all he cared about. He couldn’t believe how many men in the industry took advantage of people and got away with it because they were famous. It disgusted him and he wondered how many people would still like them if they knew the kind of men they really are when they thought no one was looking.

He finished with his shower and wiped down the mirror to get another glimpse at his face. His nose was now a little swollen but there wasn’t any actual damage from what he could see. And the skin around his eye was just a little red. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad he had initially thought it would. Maybe it would just swell then go back down by the time he needed to perform the next day.

Once he decided he had enough of looking at his refection he headed back into his room and rifled through his messy suitcase for something to wear to the club. Everything he pulled out looked like shit. He usually didn’t put much thought into what he wore, but for whatever reason, he wanted to look nice. He wanted to look good. For whatever reason, he was hoping to run into you, even though he figured you wouldn’t be there. He was hoping that you were at LAX waiting for your flight home. He had hoped that you were okay despite the obvious pain that you were experiencing.

He settled on a black button up shirt and a pair of jeans with his boots that he definitely needed to replace. He only buttoned a few of the bottom buttons, leaving a lot of his chest on display. He then tucked it into his jeans, hearing a knock on his door. He headed over and opened the door for who he assumed was Jeff then headed to his shoes that he had left by the bed before sitting on it to put them on. Jeff stepped into the room, closing the door before stepping over to Eddie. He was dressed similarly the only difference was that his shirt was navy blue and he was wearing a wife beater under it and his jeans were a darker wash. Eddie always admired the way Jeff dressed and sometimes wished he had the confidence to pull off the things he wore when they were onstage.

“You clean up nice,” Jeff complimented. “I might even be into you.”

“Thanks, you too. Where are the others?” Eddie asked, putting on his socks then quickly throwing on his boots. He stood from the bed and headed for the door, making sure he had his key before the pair stepped into the hallway.

“Waiting on the elevator.” Eddie caught sight of his band mates who were whistling and catcalling him as he walked towards them. It was something they always did to mess with him while simultaneously trying to hype him up. He didn’t know why he was nervous. He had gone out more times than he could count so it was nothing new to him. Maybe it was because he didn’t actually want to go for once. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about you no matter how he tried. You were taking up every inch of his brain and he hated it. He was trying to get laid and he couldn’t exactly do that when all he could think about was the outfit you had been wearing and how he wanted to be the one who got to see what was underneath.

As soon as the doors opened, Eddie stepped inside and threw on his sunglasses, knowing that the bright lights of the club would make his headache worse. He pressed himself against the wall, really wishing he had something to numb the pain. A joint or a line, whatever he could get his hands on. He knew they wouldn’t heal him, but they would at least give him the illusion that he was. He should have probably (definitely) gone to bed, but the night was young and so was he so he was going to have a great time and not think about you or how much he wanted to knock Chris’s light out. He couldn’t promise that he’d keep his hands to himself this time if he saw the bastard. He was going to punch the living daylights out of him, not only for what Chris had done to him, but also for you. Especially for you.

The Ruby Room, Los Angeles, 1990

Before Eddie knew it, the car that he wasn’t even aware that he had gotten into was pulling up to the all too familiar building with the words The Ruby Room across the front in bright red lights. Doug was pushing him out of the car and he took the hint, moving faster than he was willing to. He stepped out onto the street and headed towards the entrance, completely bypassing all of people in line waiting to get in. The man at the door pulled back the velvet rope and the members of Corroded Coffin walked through.

“Thanks Hank,” Eddie pat the man’s shoulder, showing him his signature megawatt smile.

“Anything for you guys,” Hank replied and Eddie followed his friends inside. He’d never get over how overstimulating everything was when he first entered the building. With all the bright lights and loud music, it was like his own personal hell, but he’d get over it once he had a few drinks. He made a beeline for the bar and ordered his usual while drumming his fingers on the wood while he waited. He scanned the room, looking for the girl he was going take home when he stopped. He felt like time had frozen when he caught sight of you sitting at a table by yourself sipping on a cocktail. He blinked a couple times, certain that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but once he rubbed them a little too aggressively and saw that you were still there, he was sure that you were very real. He turned back to the bar to see his drink was in front of him and grabbed it and was about to head your way, but he figured he’d leave you alone to give you space.

You hadn’t even planned to go out. You had every intention of going to bed, but you just couldn’t stand being there when Chris got back. You knew he would have intentionally been loud just to wake you up and yell at you for things that were his fault and he would definitely have something to say now that you had broken up with him. He was so angry with you and you didn’t want to hear it. There was nothing that he could say that would make you want to go back to him. You were done and ready to focus on yourself for once.

As much as you liked the idea of going home with someone, you couldn’t find it in yourself. Not because of Chris, but because you hadn’t had sex in six months and weren’t even sure if you knew how to do it anymore. You also weren’t even sure if you liked it. The only person you had slept with was Chris and you tried to get out of it any chance you could. You knew it wasn’t supposed to be that way. You had people talk about amazing it was but every time you did things with Chris, it was nothing but awkward and uncomfortable. He seemed to enjoy himself but didn’t even ask if you liked it. You knew that he wasn’t doing something right but blamed yourself because you knew that he couldn’t possible believe that he was the problem.

Eddie watched you for a few more seconds and was about to turn away when he saw a man approach you. He sat in the chair next to yours without an invitation and was getting a little too close to you for your liking. He was touching your hair and making odd comments which you figured he thought were compliments. He scooted his chair closer to yours and Eddie decided that he had enough. Before he could stop himself, he was making his way over to your table with more confidence than he ever had in his life. He weaved his way through all of the dancing bodies, trying not to spill his drink as he did so. He kept his eyes on you and didn’t miss the way yours lit up when you saw him. He didn’t know if it was because you knew you were going to be saved or if you were just happy to see him, but didn’t care which one it was.

“So sorry I’m late sweetheart,” he greeted as he got to your table. You turned to him and couldn’t stop staring. His hair was extra curly and you just wanted to run your fingers through to see if it was as soft as it looked. And his shirt perfectly showcased his chest and all of his tattoos that you wanted to trace with your fingers and maybe even your tongue.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man slurred before you could speak. He looked old enough to be your father and that made Eddie feel sick to his stomach. He couldn’t stand letting some creep hit on you when you were uncomfortable. He knew you could defend yourself, but he felt like he needed to step in to keep you safe.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you turned to the man, emphasizing the last word and Eddie couldn’t understand the feeling he got when he heard it. “And he’s going to kick your ass if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” You were speaking with so much confidence, as if you actually believed that Eddie actually could beat his ass when he definitely couldn’t.

“You?” The man laughed, standing from the chair and getting closer to Eddie, sizing him up. Eddie was sure that the guy could have flicked him and he’d fly across the room, so he wasn’t sure why you had said that he could beat his ass when there was absolutely no competition. He was going to get hit for the second time that night and he wasn’t sure he’d still have a nose after that. He moved his sunglasses up onto his head and prepared for the inevitable but it didn’t come. He opened his eyes and the man’s mouth was agape.

“Eddie Munson?” He asked in shock. “Shit, I’m sorry, man. I love your work.” Eddie let out a sigh of relief and the man put his hand out to shake.

“Oh, thanks. Nice to meet you,” Eddie smiled at him and took his hand, shaking it, swearing that he could hear a crack over the loud music at how hard the man was holding his hand. He finally let go, his face lighting up as he did so.

“The pleasure’s all mine. I saw you guys performing earlier and you were amazing.” Eddie realized early on in his career that Corroded Coffin’s main demographic was men that were old enough to be his father. Every one that he had met had been nothing but complimentary and seemed to be very dedicated. He was always so appreciative and couldn’t help but think about how they reminded him of Wayne. He really needed to give him a call.

“Wow, thanks man,” Eddie nodded. Had something actually gone right for him for once? He swore he was going to end up in the hospital and now this guy was telling him that he was a huge fan? Being famous was weird, Eddie knew that for sure. Maybe since now he knew the guy respected him, he could get him to leave you alone.

“Well, I won’t keep you. You guys have a great night and I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he nodded his head towards you then turned and disappeared into all of the dancing bodies on the dance floor. Eddie let out a sigh of relief as he sat in the chair beside you. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. How good he looked in the harsh club lighting which you didn’t think was possible. You thought maybe it was the alcohol, but you looked down at your drink and realized that you had only had a few sips so you decided that he just looked like that. So pretty and nice. The second thing surprisingly not being common in men.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, turning to face him. He looked intimidating, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He threw his glasses onto the table and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to process everything that just happened.

“I know,” he nodded. “But I wanted to.”

“I could have taken care of myself.” Eddie knew that but maybe he just wanted an excuse to talk to you. He didn’t know why he needed one since he could talk to you if he wanted to. You made him nervous and he wasn’t sure why. He thought he was finally getting good at talking to girls but here you were in your red dress looking as beautiful as ever in the bright lights.

“I know,” he said again with another nod. “But again, I wanted to.”

“Well, that’s sweet. It’s good you didn’t get your ass kicked. Crazy that he was a fan, huh? Guess you should consider yourself lucky.”

“Oh, I do.” He had to be to have a chance to see you again. “I couldn’t take another ass kicking.”

“Another one?” He turned his face to her and she caught sight of the redness around his eye. She took his face in her hands and turned it so she could see just how bad his injury was. “Eddie,” she gasped, pulling his face closer to hers so she could get a better look and he had tried his best to ignore the thudding of his heart against his chest. “Who did this to you?”

“Your boyfriend,” he grumbled, hating the way the words felt on his tongue. “Or I guess now he’s your ex boyfriend.”

“Chris did this to you? Eddie, I’m so sorry. He’s such a fucking ass.” You hated that he had taken a punch from your shitty ex and wondered what had happened. You decided you were going to ask later when everything wasn’t so fresh. You brought your thumb up to graze the redness around his eye and he winced. “I’m sorry,” You apologized, completely removing your hands from his face and Eddie was already missing your touch. You stood up from the table and held your hand out for him to take. He looked at it, dumbfounded, wondering why you were offering it to him and what you wanted him to do with it. You shook it and it finally registered that you wanted him to hold it.

He put his hand in yours and you pulled him up from the table, pulling him towards the dance floor. You weaved your way through the crowd and Eddie admired how quickly and seamlessly you seemed to move, like you knew exactly where to go. He had no idea where you were taking him, but he didn’t care. He was beginning to realize he’d follow you anywhere and that scared him. He had only just met you and now he was head over heels. He didn’t get attached to women, that was his thing. He didn’t think he was even capable of being interested in someone beyond sex but here he was, following you, knowing that no matter where you were taking him, he’d be okay just because you were there. Eddie caught sight of his band mates as he looked around the club and they all gave him a thumbs up when they realized that you were pulling him down a hallway, assuming that the two of you were going to get up to something filthy.

Once Eddie was out of his daze, he realized that you were pulling him into the women’s bathroom. You instructed him to stand at the sink and he listened, willing to do whatever you told him. He looked at his reflection and was about to reach up and touch his eye but you rested your hand on his shoulder and turned him around before he could. Before he could register what was going on, your hand was digging through your purse for something and Eddie just stood there and watched, admiring your beauty now that he had gotten a full view of your dress. Your dress that he wanted to slip his hands under and feel your soft skin under his.

“I swear I’m gonna kill Chris,” you muttered, pulling out what looked like a tube of lipstick but instead of red or pink that he was used to seeing, it was the color of your skin which he had never seen before.

“Can I help?” He didn’t want to help for the sake of helping, he wanted to beat the shit out of Chris for how terribly he had treated everyone in his path, especially you. He also wanted revenge for himself, to reverse the rolls and give him the shiner. He couldn’t let him get away with it now that he’d seen the real him.

“I’ll need someone to help me bury the body, won’t I?” You set your purse on the counter and took the cap off of the tube, twisting the bullet so you had access to more product. “I’m gonna fix your eye, okay?”

“You can do anything you want to me, sweetheart.” Eddie closed his eyes and leaned against the counter, putting his hands on top of it. You moved to his left side where his injury was and pressed yourself against the counter, gently taking his chin in your hand, lightly pressing the concealer stick to his skin, not missing his winces as you did so. It must have hurt much worse than it looked. You lightly blended the makeup with your fingers and Eddie didn’t care how much it hurt, he just liked that you were touching him, loving the way the pads of your fingers felt against his skin. Loving how close you were to him, and how amazing you smelled. He couldn’t tell whether it was your perfume or if you just smelled that good naturally, but goddamn was it addicting.

Eddie opened his eyes and couldn’t help but look into yours, captivated by the color and the cute concentrated look you had on your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your tongue was barely poking through your lips, your pretty red painted lips that he wanted to know the taste of but knew he wouldn’t. Not then. Not when you had just broken up with your boyfriend. The wounds were still open and he could see them even though you had bandaged them up. He may have only known you for a few hours at that point, but he could see right through you. He could see that you were hurting even though you pretended that you weren’t. You were trying to be tough and he hated that you felt like you had to hide your emotions. You didn’t. At least not with him. He wouldn’t have judged you if you had wanted to break something in anger or if you just wanted to cry. He would have let you, would have even held you while you did it.

You tapped on some setting powder with a makeup brush and finished up before stepping back to admire your work, nodding to yourself in approval. It wasn’t your best by any means, but you did what you could in a pinch. It wasn’t like it mattered that much in the ruby colored club lighting, but you just wanted to help Eddie out. At least, that was what you were telling yourself. It wasn’t because you were looking for an excuse to touch his pretty face, no. And it wasn’t because you wanted to be close to him either. You just saw someone in need and wanted to provide for them. That was it.

“Take a look,” you referred to the mirror. Eddie turned to it and leaned on the counter to get a better look. The redness was gone and he actually looked normal. He turned to look at you and you didn’t miss the small smile kicked up at the corner of his mouth.

“It looks great,” he complimented. “Truly. The greatest makeup job I’ve ever had.” Maybe he was exaggerating but he didn’t care. He had only had his makeup done a few times for certain performances and some music videos and every time he dreaded it, hating that people were that close to him, hating being touched like that. But with you, he didn’t mind, not one bit. In fact, he didn’t think that you were close enough, didn’t think that you had touched him for nearly as long as you should have.

“Really?” You looked him in the eyes and could see that he was being genuine. Everyone in your life had always made fun of you for interest in makeup and the fact that you had wanted to make a career out of it. They all told you that it wasn’t a “real job” and that you couldn’t possibly be successful doing people’s makeup for a living. That it was just a silly hobby and you shouldn’t spend so much time doing something that won’t make you any money.

“Definitely,” Eddie stepped closed to you, taking a chance. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and grabbed him by his hips, pulling him so he was flush to your body. His eyes widened at your sudden movement but he wasn’t going to deny your touch. His hands hesitantly moved to your shoulders and he looked at your face the entire time to gauge your reaction. He watched your pretty lips part and he stared at them, wondering if they were at soft as they looked, if they tasted as good as he was hoping they would. You ran your tongue along your bottom lip and that was it. He had to have you, but he wanted you make the first move.

You leaned closer to him, so close that he could feel your breath on his face. Your lips ghosted over his and he had to blink a few times to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming even though he could feel your hot touch despite his shirt being a barrier between your hand and his skin.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he said. He wanted you so badly but wanted to be considerate of you and your fragile state. He didn’t want you to move on too soon.

“But doesn’t that make it more fun,” your grip on his waist tightened and he’d have been lying if he said he didn’t like seeing that side of you. “Knowing that we shouldn’t but doing it anyway?”

“Fuck,” Eddie breathed and closed his eyes, waiting for your lips to meet his. Just as you caught his bottom lip between your two, there was a loud beeping sound coming from your purse. You ignored it and rested your hands against Eddie’s face, slowly moving them into his hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip and he opened up, letting yours meet his. He pressed you against the counter and you untucked his shirt from his pants, moving your hands beneath it to run your fingers up his bare back.

The loud beeping sounded again and you reluctantly pulled away, Eddie chasing your lips as you did so. He got in one more kiss before you reached for your purse and pulled out your pager seeing that you had pages from both Max and Joey. All that was said was that Chris needed you and that you needed to come back to the hotel. You didn’t need to do anything. You threw the pager back in your bag before pressing your lips to Eddie’s again.

“Do you want to get a drink?” You asked, pulling away from him. He was caught off guard by your question and figured that whatever message you got on your beeper must have upset you.

“I’d love to get a drink,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door but you pulled him back. Before he could ask what you were doing, you wiped away the lipstick that had transferred onto his skin and only laughed when it smudged across his cheek.

“You look like the Joker.” You continued to laugh and he couldn’t help but join in as you tried and failed to wipe the lipstick off his face.

“Me?” He laughed. “Look at you!” He moved out of the way so you could see yourself in the mirror and you leaned in close to get a better look. He was right. You did look much worse than he did. Your lipstick was all over the bottom half of your face to the point where you almost resembled a clown. You were quick to grab Eddie’s face, about to wipe the lipstick away before he stopped you.

“Wait,” he grabbed your hands, moving them away from his face.

“What?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing your eyebrows.

“Don’t wipe it away.”

“Why?”

“I like having your mark on me.” You blushed at his words then turned to the mirror to remove your lipstick to fix it up.

“What all do you have in there?” He asked as you rummaged in your purse for your lipstick.

“In my purse? Anything and everything I could possibly need.”

“Like what? Can I see?” You handed him your purse while you continued wiping his face. He pulled out everything one by one, mesmerized by how much you were able to carry in such a small bag. He didn’t miss the envelope filled with cash but didn’t want to mess with it. He came across what felt like a pencil and pulled out quickly realizing that it was eyeliner. He had seen other performers wear it but was always afraid he’d poke his eye out.

You finished taking off the lipstick then took your concealer and put it in on the spots of your foundation that had been removed then tapped on some powder over it to make sure it stayed in place. You then took a tube of lipstick and applied it to your lips, rubbing them together to make sure that it was evenly applied. Eddie watched you in awe, fascinated with the whole process, loving the precision of everything. He swore that he could watch you apply your makeup for hours and never get bored.

“Ready?” You asked, turning to him with a smile on your freshly glossed lips. He just smiled back in complete adoration.

“Ready,” he nodded and pulled your purse out of your reach when you went to grab it from him. “Now what kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you carry your purse?” He scoffed in feigned offense.

“You’re not a gentleman,” you replied, reaching for the purse again but he just held it further out of your reach.

“Ouch, doll,” he put his hand up to where his heart was and acted as if he was in pain. “You wound me. Let’s settle this now. You let me carry your purse and I’ll buy you a drink, alright?”

“Then what do I get in return?” You crossed your arms over your chest and put on a pout.

“You get to hangout with me.”

“Hmm,” you pondered. “I don’t think that’s a fair trade.”

“Damn, you’re just firing shots tonight, aren’t you, doll?” He gave you his megawatt smile then opened the door for you to exit the bathroom. You stepped into the hallway and grabbed his hand, leading him back out onto the dance floor.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” You led him over to the bar. He drummed his free hand on the bar while you waited for the busy bartender to get to you. You turned to look at him and gave him a small smile which he returned and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. For someone who was so used to be being in the public eye, Eddie always seemed to forget that people could perceive him when he wasn’t onstage. He didn’t expect attention, especially not from women like you. You were so pretty and smart and now you were available. He could have asked you out if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t. Only because he wanted you to be comfortable. He was going to wait and see if you’d give him your number or at least tell him that you were interested. He didn’t think that making out with him in the Ruby Room bathroom counted as interested.

You ordered another cosmopolitan while Eddie ordered another beer, adding both drinks to his tab while handing over his credit card. While you waited, you wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. He leaned into you, turning his head towards yours. He looked at you in admiration and hated that he could see himself falling for you only having met you earlier that day.

He could see himself calling you while on tour and hearing about your day. He could see the two of you dancing around the kitchen in your pajamas while he hummed a song that he wrote for you. He could even see the two of you sitting on the front porch of the house you just bought while the dog you insisted on getting ran around the yard.

Eddie’s first thought would have been to run, to get away from you and the feelings that he was having, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He wanted to stay put and see how everything would turn out. He was just so content being beside you. You didn’t even have to speak, just knowing that you were there was enough for him.

“Here you go,” you handed him his beer and for a second, he completely forgot where he was. For a moment, it was just the two of you in your own little world and now he was back in the real one where other people existed and he wished the two of you could go somewhere you could be alone. He wanted to get to know you without the outside world intervening. He didn’t want to be arrogant but he knew of his celebrity status and as much as he loved the people who loved him, he had to admit that he wasn’t always so happy to have them interrupt his night to talk to him.

“Thanks,” he smiled and took a sip, turning to scan the club. When he turned back to you, you were holding a shot out to him. “What’s this for?” He set his beer on the bar and took the shot from you, holding it between his fingers.

“To new beginnings,” you held your shot up motioning for him to cheers.

“Fuck yeah,” he nodded, completely understanding what you were implying. “To new beginnings.” You both downed the liquid and it burned going down but you liked the way it made you feel. It gave you more confidence. It let you turn your brain off even if it was only for a few hours.

“Do you wanna dance?” You asked, looking at the dance floor longingly. Eddie followed your gaze and couldn’t help but think about how much he hated dancing and being around that many people at once. He normally would have said no but how could he have after seeing that adorable pout on your face?

“Sure,” he nodded and you were quickly to pull him out there while he tried to make sure that you didn’t spill any of your drink. It was a very close call but he was successful as you got onto the dance floor. He watched you as you moved to the beat, insisting that he hold your drink while you did so. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you moved your hips to the terrible pop beat that was playing over the speakers. He set the drinks on the table where his friends had been sitting and you were quick to grab his hands and rest them on your waist. He tried to mimic the way you were moving but didn’t think his body could do the same.

You thought it was cute that he was trying to copy you and decided to help him in his struggle. You rested your hands on his waist, moving his hips this way and that and he couldn’t help but let out a giggle at how ridiculous he probably looked. Once you thought he got the hang of it, you turned your back to him and started grinding against his crotch. His eyes widened as he watched you, unsure of what he was supposed to be doing. He had seen people dance like that countless times but when it came time for his turn, his mind went completely blank. It didn’t help that you were making him hard and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

After what felt like far too long, you turned back around and wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. His arms moved to your waist and he enveloped you into a hug, pulling you closer to him.

“Thanks for hanging out with me tonight. I know that you probably have better things to do but I really appreciate it.” Better things to do? Like what? Going to bed? Sleeping with a woman that wasn’t you? Yeah right. He wanted to be there for you. To be the shoulder you cried on.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he rubbed your back sympathetically. You stayed like that for a while, the floor slowly emptying as the night turned to morning. You heard last call and decided to call it a night. Neither of you wanted it to end, but you thought it was for the best. You didn’t want to go back to Chris, but you didn’t think you had a choice. You certainly weren’t going to ask Eddie if you could stay with him. He had already done so much for you and you weren’t going to push it.

The two of you exited the club as it was shutting down, the remaining members of Corroded Coffin following your lead. The five of you stood on the sidewalk awkwardly as the boys waited for their ride. You saw the other boys eyeing Eddie as if they were all communicating with looks that you clearly didn’t understand.

“Well,” you spoke up. “I should probably get back.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded, even though it was taking everything in him to not ask you to stay the night. Not even to sleep with you. He just wanted to make sure you were safe.

“Have a good night guys. I had a nice time.” Before he could register what you were doing, you had grabbed his hand, scribbling on it with your eyeliner pencil, that being the only writing utensil you had on hand. “This is my phone and pager numbers. Don’t be a stranger, okay?” You threw the pencil back into your purse and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s lips before making your way down the street.

That wasn’t it. It couldn’t be. He wasn’t really going to let you walk down the streets of LA at night alone would he? No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you leave without one last kiss to hold him over until he saw you again. He ran after you as fast as he could and you turned around in confusion as he stood in front of you. He grabbed you by your face and pressed his lips roughly to yours, taking no time to swipe his tongue along your bottom one. You let him in, grabbing hold of his shirt. His hands quickly moved to your hair, his fingertips pressing into your scalp.

“I just needed one more taste,” he mumbled against your lips. You only pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I told you not to be a stranger, Munson.” You only pulled him closer, pecking his lips.

“I-“ he cut himself off before speaking again. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, baby. You could ask me up to your room right now and I’d say yes.” You really hadn’t been expecting to go back to where he was staying, but you couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t want to go back to your room and who would pass up the chance to fuck a rockstar?

“D-do you want to go to my room?” He was surprised he could get the words out considering how fuzzy his brain felt at the thought of you wanting to fuck him.

“I’d be honored.” You took his hand in yours and he pulled you back over to the boys as soon as the car pulled up. The five of you all piled into it, you and Eddie ending up alone in the very back seat. Your hand was still holding his and you pulled them to rest on your lap, your free hand fiddling with his rings that adorned his fingers. His fingers that you so desperately wanted to touch you in every place imaginable.

You whispered to each other the whole way, giggling as you did so, definitely annoying Eddie’s friends who were sitting in front of you. They were all getting sick of your flirty conversation and couldn’t wait for the car to pull up to the hotel so they could get away.

The car finally go to the hotel and your jaw dropped at the sight in front of you. You weren’t surprised that Corroded Coffin had the cash to stay there considering how popular they had become over the years.

Eddie took you by the hand and led you inside the building and you were completely mesmerized by how nice it was. It made where you were staying look like a dump. It was so nice that you felt out of place like you usually did when you went to places like that. You didn’t grow up with much money and didn’t really know anyone who did so you definitely didn’t think you’d ever step foot in the Beverly Hills hotel. Especially not with the lead singer of Corroded Coffin.

The others took the elevator that came down while you and Eddie stayed back to take your own. Your flirting continued as you stood in the empty lobby, the only people there being the two of you. You looked up at him and realized that you didn’t actually have anything to worry about like you usually did when it was that time of night. You’d lay your head on your pillow and everything you were worried about that quieted itself during the day became very loud in your head. It was to the point where you could barely sleep most nights because whatever Chris had been worried about would be passed off to you because for whatever reason, he wanted to make everything a concern to you even when it didn’t actually involve you.

It was as if all of the chaos had left had your head as soon as you and Chris were broken up. All of the problems that you previously had just weren’t there. You didn’t have to take care of his laundry or pack up his suitcase to make everything fit. You didn’t have to restring his fucking guitar or make him his special tea that supposedly helped his voice sound better but you were sure it was a scam. You didn’t have to do anything for that man anymore and you felt good. You were finally free from his shackles.

One of the elevators opened and you grabbed Eddie by the shirt, pulling him inside. He pressed the button for his floor before his hands found your waist again and moved farther down as your lips attached to his. You went to unbutton his shirt, the fact that you were in an elevator was the least of your worries. You needed him and you needed him now. It didn’t matter that you had issues with being intimate with someone. You were confident that Eddie would satisfy your needs and be nothing but a gentleman while he did it.

Eddie’s hands slipped under your dress as you undid the last button, his entire chest in display for your viewing pleasure. You pulled back to look at him, wondering how you got so lucky. How you got Eddie Munson to actually agree to sleep with you. And it took absolutely no convincing. He was on board for whatever you liked to do. You barely even knew him and he was already wrapped around your finger.

Before his hands could get any farther, the elevator dinged signaling that it was on the correct floor and Eddie reluctantly removed himself from you, stealing one more kiss before leading you to his room.

“It’s kind of messy,” he said sheepishly as he unlocked the door. You didn’t think that mattered considering what you were about to get up to. The cleanliness of his room was the least of your worries. He opened the door and you were surprised at how surprisingly clean it was. It wasn’t immaculate by any means but it was definitely better than the rooms of other men that you had seen. There were small piles of clothes and an open cluttered suitcase, but that was it as far as the mess went. It was very clean compared to the roommate you had shared a living space with over the past few years.

“So this is how the other half lives,” you sighed, collapsing onto his bed. It was much softer than the one where you were staying.

“It could be your life too,” he replied, lying down next to you. He didn’t know why he said that, but it was too late to take it back. You turned to look at him but he just kept staring at the ceiling, afraid to look you in the eye.

“I guess you’re right. I think I was put on this earth to be a rockstar’s girlfriend.” His cheeks heated up at that. He would have asked you out if he knew for sure that you were talking about him, but you weren’t. You definitely weren’t. Eddie was the kind of guy you snuck into your window because your parents didn’t approve, not the kind of guy you’d bring home. And definitely not the kind of guy who wanted to be a boyfriend. People slept with him and that was it. And that was how he liked it. It was everything he liked without all the “feelings” bullshit.

The two of you fell silent and you rolled on top of him, straddling his hips and pressed your lips to his once again and he was quick to put his hands under your dress. You removed it, letting it fall to the floor. His hands landed on your thighs, giving them a squeeze as he licked into your mouth. He liked how soft they were under his rough hands.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “So this is what I’ve been missing. God, angel, you’re perfect.”

“Perfect?” You loved that word and how easily he was able to say it in regard to you. Like it was something that he said all the time.

“Perfect,” he pressed his lips to yours once more. “And don’t you forget it.”

You pulled his open shirt from his shoulders and threw it to the side. Eddie was quick to flip you over so now he was straddling you. He captured your top lip between his two in a brief kiss before moving down to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses to the skin. He went down to your chest ,sucking on your breast, his tongue running over your nipple.

You let out a soft moan and he chuckled to himself, loving the way it sounded coming from your pretty lips. He continued sucking on your breast, hearing more moans come from you. He took your nipple in between his teeth and pulling to get just the right sound he wanted from you.

“Oh,” you let out another moan. He repeated the same action before giving it a little suck. “Oh, Eddie.”

“That’s right, princess,” he said before pulling away from your chest. “Say my name.” He moved to your other breast and did the exact same thing, getting more moans from you. He was loving seeing you like this and knowing that it was all for him was driving him wild. He kissed all the way down your stomach and made his way to your waist.

“Can I remove these,” he asked, referring to your underwear. He was being so nice and respectful and you weren’t used to that. You were used to rough and mean.

“Um,” you hesitated. You wanted him to, you really did, but you were still fragile. You weren’t ready but were too afraid to admit that to him. You felt bad considering how eager he was, but you just couldn’t go through with it.

“I don’t have to," he sat up, completely moving his hands away from you, leaning up as he did so.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. Eddie didn’t know why you were telling him that. He was willing to do whatever you wanted. He hoped that you knew that.

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I do…I just-I don’t know. I’m nervous. I-I’ve only ever felt this way a few times but it’s been a long time and I don’t even know what to do.”

“That’s okay,” he pushed some of your hair out of your face.

“I mean, I don’t even know what it looks like down there anymore.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” his hands rested on your face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I want you to feel comfortable, okay? Tonight is all about you.” All about you? You couldn’t remember the last time you had been the focus of anything. For the longest time, it was all about Chris and what he wanted. For once, you were going to be the center of attention and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

“Me? What about you, Eddie?” You wanted to know what he was going to get out of the arrangement. Certainly not much.

“Darling, believe me, I’d get plenty of pleasure from hearing your pretty sounds.” Your eyes widened at that. You were still in shock that he always somehow knew exactly what to say.

“Remove them,” you commanded.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” He knew exactly to what you were referring, but he wanted to hear you say it again.

“Remove them,” you repeated. “Please,” you begged and he was quick to remove the fabric and toss it aside. He spread your legs and a devilish grin made its way upon his face.

“Well look at you,” he looked down at your pussy that was much more damp than you were used to. “Is this all for me, princess?”

“Well, it’s certainly not for me.” You couldn’t remember the last time you got wet like this. If you ever had. Any time Chris had tried to fuck you, you were as dry as the desert. You hadn’t even done anything and Eddie was already making you feel much more pleasure than both Chris and your vibrator combined.

“Well, I’m honored.” He took both of your legs and draped them over his shoulders. “Gonna make you feel so good, angel.”

“Yes, god, please.” Eddie lowered his head, pressing a kiss to each of your thighs before burying his face between them. His tongue was quick to lick from your slit to your clit and you slipped your fingers into his hair, giving it a yank. He took that as an invitation to continue and moved his tongue back and forth before adding his fingers into the mix. He pumped them in and out and your legs tightened against his head.

“God, fuck Eddie,” you breathed. “That feels so good, baby.” Eddie continued working his magic with his mouth, removing his fingers, his hands, grabbing onto your hips, digging his fingers into your skin. Your hands buried themselves into his hair, the tips of them pressing into his scalp. “Eddie,” you moaned. “Need more of you.” Eddie pulled away looked up at you and you swore that you were going to remember that look for forever. Like he couldn’t get enough of you. Like he was in love with you and from the way you were making him feel, he was convinced that he was.

He kissed back up to your lips and licked into your mouth, his hands grabbing onto yours, intertwining your fingers. His legs straddled your waist and you could barely even tell that he had put his full weight on you. You were so focused on him and his talented tongue.

“See how good you taste, angel?” He asked, squeezing your hands.

“No,” you shook your head. “Only know how good you taste,” you responded.

“You know exactly what you’re doing to me,” he pressed his lips to yours again. “Don’t you?”

“I don’t know anything, Eddie,” you bat your eyelashes. “Except the fact that you’re fucking hot.” Eddie captured your lips in another kiss before moving down to your neck, sucking on the base of the side on your throat. His teeth grazed the skin gently and he was quick to diffuse the pain with his tongue.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart.” He pressed a few open mouthed kisses to your neck before sucking again.

“Then I guess I should tell you how good you are at this.” Eddie lowered himself on top of you, slotting his legs between yours, his fingers still interlaced with yours.

“Then I should tell you how good you are at taking it. You’re doing so well, princess.” You wrapped your arms around his waist and his hands went to your thighs. “You’re so pretty,” he said, pressing more open mouthed kisses to your neck. “Not even just your face, your body.”

“You’re sweet.”

“I’m also right,” he replied. “Don’t you think you’re pretty?” You did think you were pretty. Despite all of the things Chris had said to you over the years, you still thought you were hot shit.

“Absolutely,” you nodded and he grinned.

“Good,” he pressed another kiss to your neck, letting his lips linger there before pulling away. “You should be. You’re so fucking hot.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, princess. Could do this all day every day and never get bored. I think you’re the perfect partner.”

“Out of all the others?” Eddie laughed at that. He didn’t like that you were comparing yourself to the other women he slept with, but he couldn’t understand why you were. To him, he could get rid of every other one and be content to have just you every night. He could see himself falling asleep with you in his arms, his head resting on top of yours. He could see himself performing and looking to you who was standing side stage with the biggest smile on your face, cheering him on. He was falling and fast and for once, he wasn’t going to kick you out. The door was wide open and he was letting you in without question.

“There’s no competition. And this isn’t a line. I genuinely mean it.” he went back to work on your neck, sucking on the spot once more. Your breath hitched and you weren’t sure how he was able to take your breath away. His teeth grazed the skin again, harder this time and you let out a gasp.

“God, Eddie,” you moaned. “Is this always what it’s supposed to feel like?” He chuckled and feeling his breath on your neck made goosebumps rise on your skin.

“As long as it’s with me, yeah,” he responded before diving back in. You liked how he knew when it was starting to hurt and he would quickly swipe his tongue across the spot. He knew exactly what he was doing and you were eating up every second of it.

“Well, maybe next time you can give me the full experience.”

“Already thinking about next time, huh?” He pulled back to wink at you.

“Maybe,” you let out a giggle, starting to feel your eyes get heavy, feeling the after effects of all of the pleasure you had just experienced.

“Right, maybe,” he replied, letting go of your hands and moving your hair away from your face. “You’re starting to slur, angel. Maybe it’s time for bed.”

“No,” you whined. “I didn’t get to please you.”

“Next time, sweetheart, next time,” he pat your cheek. “You can do whatever you want to me when you’re not about to fall asleep on me.” He got off of you and went to his suitcase, pulling out a t-shirt. He handed it to you and you changed into it. It was a little tight, but it was still pretty comfortable. You stood up from the bed, feeling sleepiness take over you as you pulled on your underwear. You almost fell to the floor but Eddie caught up before you could.

“Alright, come one. We gotta remove your makeup, sweet girl.” He scooped you up, holding you by the waist with one arm and putting the other under your legs. He carried you to the bathroom effortlessly and set you on the counter. He then grabbed your makeup remover from your purse and put some on a hand towel before wiping your face with it.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he nodded. “But I want to. Can’t let you sleep in that all night. It’s not gonna be comfortable.”

“I can do it.”

“Can you just let me take care of you, please?”

“You were taking care of me just fine earlier.”

“Not that kind of care, angel,” he wiped your face again, his other hand holding onto your chin.

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” you pulled away from his grasp.

“Well, I was, but you were getting tired and I’m not really into fucking women who are unconscious.”

“I guess I can’t fault you for being a gentleman,” you sighed.

“Gentleman? That’s the bare minimum. How come here.” You leaned forward, leaning into his touch. You opened your legs and he was quick to slot between them, trying to get closer to you. He continued to remove your makeup, trying to be gentle as he did it. You could get used to it. The two of you having a night out, him holding your hair when you drank too much and him taking you home and removing your makeup when you were too drunk. God, you were really was falling for you. You were fucked.

“All done,” he threw the towel to the side and grabbed onto your waist to help you from the counter. He took you by the hand and led you back to his bed. He helped you under the covers and made sure that you were comfortable before removing his pants and throwing on some sweatpants. He then turned off the lamp beside him and got under the covers and was quick to move over to you, taking you in his arms. He rested his chin on top of your head and you buried your face into his chest. He tangled his legs with yours and pulled you even closer, brushing his lips against your forehead before pressing a kiss to it.

You were so comfortable that you were quickly slipping into sleep. Your face was against Eddie’s warm chest with his arms wrapped around your waist and you were very content being there, knowing that he would protect you if anything happened.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said, rubbing

“Goodnight, Eds,” you sighed dreamily and Eddie loved hearing that sound, feeling at ease that you were content. Before you could fully let sleep consume you, you pulled back to look at him one last time.

“Can I get one last kiss? I really think that would help me sleep.” What was he going to do? Say no? With you looking at him with that adorable sleepy smile? “Please?”

“Well, since you said, please.” He tilted your chin up and pressed a featherlight kiss to your lips. He pulled away only to find you glaring at him and he just let out a laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was that not good enough for you?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Ouch, doll,” he put his hand up to his chest. “You hurt me again.” You removed his hand and pressed a kiss to the spot he had been covering.

“Better?”

“Much, thank you. Alright, I’ll give you one more kiss and then we have to go to sleep.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Tilted your head back again and captured your lips between his, this kiss slow and sweet just like all of his others. For being such an intimidating looking guy, he was very good at being a sweetheart. Looks really could be deceiving.

“Alright,” he sighed, pulling away from you. “Bedtime, angel,” he wrapped his arms around your waist again and pulled you to his chest. His chin once again rested on top of your head and he closed his eyes, for once feeling comfortable. All of his nightmares seemed to vanish, the only thing taking over his brain being you and your beautiful face.

Eddie woke up to the sound of a high pitched ringing. He looked to his left and found you on the other side of the bed, looking like an angel, still deep in sleep. So he wasn’t dreaming. All of that stuff that he had done to you had very much happened. It wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He watched you for a second, noticing the very obvious hickey on your neck. He loved watching you come undone at his simple touches. He loved hearing those sounds come from your pretty lips. God, your lips. He could have kissed them all night long and never gotten bored. They were so soft and sweet just like you. You were so nice and caring and he wondered how Chris could treat you like shit, especially with all of the things you had done for him. If Eddie had been in his place, he would have put a ring on it a long time ago.

The ringing was still going and Eddie turned over, reaching for the phone that was by the clock. He put the phone to his ear, expecting to be met by yelling from his manager, Rick.

“Hello,” he answered, his voice still filled with sleep.

“I swear to god if you’re not here in the next five minutes, I’m going to rip the strings off your guitar one fucking string at a time so that you’ll be on stage looking like a goddamn idiot,” Rick warned through grit teeth.

“God, Richard, you’re so dramatic.”

“I swear, if you were up late with one of those groupies-“

“She’s not a groupie,” he corrected.

“Oh, sorry,” Rick apologized, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or should I say whore.”

“She’s not a whore either,” he looked over at you, still sleeping peacefully. “Look, I’ll be there, damn,” he pulled the phone away from his ear then immediately put it back. “And send a car for (y/n), will you?” He slammed the phone down on the receiver then looked at the clock and swore to himself, practically flinging himself off the bed. He was going to be late for rehearsal. He rushed to put on some jeans he had left in the floor and a t shirt that was hanging on the knob of the bathroom door.

All of the commotion stirred you from your sleep. You watched Eddie throw on his shirt and you wondered where he was going to early. You glanced at the clock and realized that it was noon. Your flight was at four and you were going to have to run like hell if you wanted to change it.

Eddie rushed into the bathroom and quickly brushed his teeth before heading back into bedroom.

“Where are you going?” You asked him, trying to be flirtatious, but he only looked at you with a stressed expression.

“Got rehearsal, doll,” he sighed, grabbing one of his shoes and throwing it on, not even bothering to tie it then grabbed another shoe and put it on.

“Those don’t match,” you let out a laugh and he looked down, noticing that he was wearing a sneaker and a boot. He took off the sneaker and threw on the other boot before rushing over to give you a kiss.

“When’s your flight?” He asked and you almost didn’t want to answer him. If you did, then the whole thing would be ruined. You just couldn’t say goodbye.

“Four,” you grumbled.

“I’ll still be at the festival then, so we can say goodbye at the car.” You wanted to go with him, but you didn’t feel like you had right to. Hookups didn’t stand side stage.

“You’ll still call me?” You were really hoping that he was going to call you.

“I’d be an idiot not to.” You gave him another kiss before changing back into your dress, handing the shirt back to him.

“No, keep it,” he pushed it back to your chest.

“I can’t take your shirt, Ed.” Even though you knew he had plenty to spare, you felt bad taking it, even though you really wanted to.

“Sure you can. And you look way better in it than I do.”

“Oh, shut up.” You put your shoes back on and made sure you have everything that was in your purse before heading to the door. Eddie opened it for you and the two of you headed down the hallway, Eddie making sure to grab hold of your hand as you did so. You were really hoping that he wasn’t going to be a stranger. You couldn’t stand not seeing him again especially after how close the two of you had gotten in just one night.

Eddie pressed the down button for the elevator then pulled you into his arms, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. The elevator doors quickly opened, and Eddie urged you inside, the two of you still attached. He pressed you against the wall, his hands grabbing onto your thighs, giving them yet another squeeze. He licked into your mouth and you opened up, letting it find yours. His hands found your ass and he gave it a little pinch, causing up to let out a little squeal.

“Jump,” he commanded and you did as you were told, totally confident that he was going to catch you and he did. Your legs wrapped and his waist and he was quick to pin you to the wall again. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Should’ve done this last night. You look so pretty with your legs wrapped around me, sweetheart.” That only made you tighten your legs around his waist. He pressed his lips to your neck gently and let out a whistle at the mark he had made the night before.

“Oh, how scandalous,” he chuckled. “This is a gnarly hickey. Who did this to you?”

“You did,” you smiled and a full blown grin made its way upon his face.

“That’s right, princess,” he ran his nose along your jaw. “Guess that means you belong to me now.”

“Guess it does,” you responded nonchalantly. You knew Eddie was joking but you definitely wouldn’t have minded being his. The elevator doors opened and Eddie was quick to drop you gently to your feet, grabbing hold of your hand and pulling you out. You tried not to laugh at the older couple giving the two of you disgusted looks as you headed for the entrance.

You got outside where there was a car that Eddie assumed Rick had called for him and he pulled your body to his, pressing yet another kiss to your lips, this one lingering longer than the others.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get back from the festival, alright?” He kissed you again.

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. Eddie opened the car door for you.

“Your carriage awaits, m’lady,” he gestured to the backseat and you hesitantly got in before he closed the door behind you. You waved at him from the window and he waved back before heading over to the car that was waiting for him.

You had to remind yourself that this wasn’t the end. He was going to call you and you’d meet again. He’d fly to you if he had to. And he would, no questions asked. He had all of this money and he’d gladly spend every cent just to see you one more time.

You told the driver where you were staying and the car took you there. Now that you were away from Eddie, you were forced to think about the near future. You were about to go back to what was left of the life you shared with Chris and you didn’t know what you were going to do. All you did know was that you had every intention of changing your flight to an earlier one. There was no fucking way that you were going to sit next to that dickhead for five hours with nowhere else to go.

You entered the motel, definitely looking a little worse for wear. You hated that you had to leave Eddie and that you actually had to go back home. You hated having to finish packing your suitcase. You hated everything. But all you could think about was Eddie and the way he had made you feel the night before. You couldn’t help but have wanted him to be there to help you out. And he would have in a heartbeat. He would have made you stand behind him while he called Chris out on his bullshit. But he wasn’t. He had to go to rehearsal for the next day of Rhythm Riot so you’d have to face Chris alone.

You reluctantly unlocked the door and stepped inside, caught off guard by the absolute wreck it was. It was as if a tornado ripped through it considering the state it was in. Chris’s back was to you and he whipped around to look at you. His face was beet red and his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. His fists were clenched so tight that you were convinced that one of his veins was going to explode.

“Where the fuck were you?” He asked through grit teeth.

“Out,” you responded nonchalantly as you closed the door behind you. You began to gather your stuff from the floor to put back inside your suitcase. You put the thing on the bed and started throwing your belongings into it, not even bothering to do it neatly. You didn’t have time for that.

“Out where?” He hated how nonchalant you were being. He assumed that he was still your boyfriend so he thought he deserved real answers, not your vague ones.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You raised an eyebrow, loving how angry you were making him.

“Yeah!” He yelled. “I would! I was up all night waiting for you!” You paused for a moment, looking him in the eye. “I needed you to pack my suitcase.”

“I’m not packing anything. We’re broken up, Chris, remember?” You put one of your t-shirts into the case then turned to face him. You then turned back and grabbed more of your clothes from the floor and piled it on top of the others. You moved your hair away from your neck, feeling it becoming sweaty because of how hot the room had become because Chris had the window open despite it being scorching hot outside considering that it was June in California.

“What the fuck is that?” He pointed to your neck. You knew exactly what he was referring to but wanted to play dumb. You just wanted to have some fun.

“What’s what?” You tilted your head to the side, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“That!” He pointed to your neck again.

“Chris, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He rushed over to you and grabbed your face roughly in his hands, turning your head to the side so he could get a better look at the purple mark on your neck.

“This,” he looked directly at the mark.

“Oh,” you let out a giggle. “That. Why don’t you ask Eddie?”

“Munson?” He let go of you completely and turned away, rubbing his hands along his face.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “I don’t recall.”

“Do not fuck with me, you bitch.” He pointed at you. “Did you…did you fuck him?”

“I did,” you confirmed with a nod. “And he gave me more pleasure than you ever could.” All Chris could do in response was let out a scream in frustration. You were quick to grab the rest of your things and zip it up before racing out of the room.

You got to the elevator and hurriedly pressed the button to go down to the lobby, hoping that Chris wasn’t following you. The door to the suite never opened so you let out a breath and got onto the elevator, letting it take you to the lobby. You went to the front desk and made sure to let the woman behind it know that Chris would be paying for the room you shared. You left after that, making your way to the airport.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff

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imagine-that-100 · 6 months

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Chicken Shop Date | Part 9 |

By @imagine-that-100 and @alovesreading

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

Word Count: 38.8k

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

| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. No. No.

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

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

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

This is a cruel form of torture.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Settle fucking Down. Holy shit Matthew!

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

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

You better do that high note!!

Do that fucking high note you slut!!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Play this song more often!

Menswear goddddd!!!

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

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

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

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

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

SELLING PETROLLLLLLLLL

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

Your fave essential oil lmfao

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

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

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

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

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

Definitely like you better when you take off your clothes 😜

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

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

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

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

NOT ABOUT YOU

MATTHEW TIMOTHY HEALY

WHAT THE FUCKKKKK

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

You can’t leave it there.

Are you kidding??????

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

Hate you x

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

Christ I hope you left your phone backstage lollll sorryyyyy xxxx

Message me when you can xx Really proud of you xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yes she’s drunk

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

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

I can arrange compensation for you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He loves you.

God, he loves you so damn much.

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

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

~*~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I see how it is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowns a little, “My fault?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, “She wasn’t at the party?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~*~*~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pointing behind you, Charli grins, “I love this! ‘I hate Matty Healy’ but I love him, but it’s like quite-”

Amelia reaches behind you to grab one for the pop icon, and she holds it out for her to reveal the full top. “That’s something I made.” Amelia announces, awkwardly smiling between Charli and the camera.

“Did you?” The singer asks with a smirk, she stares at you as soon as Amelia nods and confirms with a quick and proud, “Yeah.”

“You seen him yet?” Charli is so amused by the way you’re avoiding eye contact by staring at the display of ‘I Hate Matty Healy’ tops.

To your left you hear your best friend reply, “No, he’s avoiding me.” and the soft, “Ahhh.” that Charli lets out, like she understands the situation.

But of course the singer wasn’t going to let the opportunity to tease you pass too easily, “I’m sure with your best mate around he’s bound to find a way to get over here.” A big smirk tugs at the corners of her lips, “Didn’t leave her alone for two seconds on tour.”

That’s enough to have you turning your head back to face her, a scoff escaping your lips before you quip back, “You act like you weren’t attached to George’s hip.”

“Oh yes, I was.” She says back as she flips her long hair behind her shoulder, “I’m a proud groupie, I will admit that.”

Fortunately, she gets distracted by taking the top from Amelia and admiring the printed hate message on the front of the white top. She chuckles, “I might have to put this on if my nipples aren’t allowed on the cameras.”

You still shouldn’t have let your guard down that easily, because when she cheekily adds, “Do you sleep in one of these Y/N/N?” you’re fully taken by surprise.

Your jaw falls and Amelia snorts in laughter, which turns into a cackle when all you manage to answer is an out of character, “Get fucked.”

You know you should’ve been more careful when choosing your words when Charli turns them against you by quipping back with, “You keep one on when you’re doing that too?”

The loud gasp that comes from you is enough to send the two girls beside you into a fit of loud laughter. They’re so amused by it all that they completely ignore you as you scold the singer, “Charlotte!”

Even your crew is laughing at you, so you have no backup from anyone. Jokes on them though, this will be getting taken out of the final edit.

“Oh you’re going to fucking die when he comes over, he’s not going to play along.” The singer warns you when she stops laughing, patting under her eyes softly to make sure the tears that lined her eyes from laughter haven’t messed anything up.

You roll your eyes, “He’s getting no interaction.” And you really have to hold back from crossing your arms and stomping your feet like a child so she knows you’re serious when you say, “Can we get back to our interview please, bitch?”

She’s insufferable though, your tone only amusing her further so she plays on it by calling you out, “Oh, she's getting feisty.”

With another sigh, you put on a bright smile again, ignoring the way Amelia and Charli snigger as you go up to the display behind you and grab something. “And to leave, I’ve just got some poppers.” You show it to Charli and the camera, an awkward but oddly proud smile on your face at the pun you know the singer and her fans will get when they watch the interview.

“Oh, oh fun. Fun.” Charli says with faux excitement, seeing the party popper in your hand.

It gets even more awkward when you announce, “Which I will pop.” as you stare right into the camera, Amelia grabs the party popper you’re handing her and she does the same as you with her own awkward smile stuck on her face.

Charli nods and mirrors you and Amelia, “Okay.”

Your last frame with Charli is of the three of you smiling at camera as you and Amelia pop the party poppers, while Charli holds up her new top. It’s so underwhelming and the silence around you makes it so much funnier, you really try hard not to break character and ruin the shot.

When the tiny confetti hits the floor, you and Amelia break the scene, turning to Charli and hugging her while thanking her for coming over. The two of you shower her in compliments which she gives back to you, she even makes you and Amelia twirl in your places to show her every bit of your dresses and you blush when she says she’ll be stealing you from Matty later.

Sadly, her team tells her she needs to go, and after a promise of seeing the two of you inside when you eventually get to the table you’re all sharing, she sing-songs, “I love youuuu!”

You wave at her as she starts walking away, matching the tone she used to reciprocate the farewell, “Mmm love you too!”

A soft frown appears on her face as she points a warning finger, “Don’t flirt too hard with my boyfriend, I’ll cut you both!”

And as payback for all the teasing she put you through earlier, you sing-song back with the fakest smile, “No promises!”

Charli flips you off behind her back and the last she hears before disappearing to the next media section of the carpet is your loud laughter. And your night continues on.

This red carpet is particularly tricky, your little set being in the corner after the actual carpet where the celebs were getting photographed and where Roman Kemp and the other presenters were doing their bit for the livestream, but before the attendees made their way into the O2. So by the time people were passing you, it felt like they were mostly in a rush to get inside.

You got lucky with Charli, she knew you were going to be there because Matty had told her as she was getting ready with the boys. And you’re glad she came over because you truly felt at ease in your job for the night now.

Before the queen of pop, you had the lovely band Flo and the girls were troopers, playing up to yours and Amelia's antics with shitty karaoke microphones you brought along. Kim Petras came over and showed you both some of her dance moves that she’ll be doing in her performance later on that you and your best friend embarrassingly mimicked.

In a weird and unexpected turn, Declan Rice made an appearance which was confusing at the music awards ceremony to have a footballer there. But you made the most of it and kindly offered the West Ham player a Manchester United mug which he unsurprisingly turned down but you got the best kick out of it. You might even offer it to Matty later to get him scowling at you.

And after you interviewed the lovely Greg James, that was when Charli wondered over and you got bullied. Alas, the rest of the night must go on and now you are feeling fabulous.

Aitch came next and you really don't know how you and Amelia kept it together when she offered him his fake box of belongings back. But despite the jokes that fired between the three of you there was a genuine sincerity there when you wished him luck this evening, and you had a little giggle with him after he handed the microphone back to your crew.

Some guests tonight weren’t doing press, which was a little upsetting, but you both took it on the chin when you were denied interviews. However, a moment tonight that melted both yours and Amelia’s heart was when Ed Sheeran caught your line of sight and you waved at him. Despite his team telling you that he was strictly not doing press, he came over anyway, not for a recorded interview but for a friendly chat where he hugged you upon greeting you and chatted with you for at least five minutes.

It was really nice, it made the both of you feel like you belong here a little more, and that you’re not fish out of water. You deserve to be here just as much as the journalists on the other carpet.

Afterwards, comes people like Stormzy, Shania Twain, Jessie J, David Guetta, and you just interviewed Wet Leg when you spot a few familiar faces, but because you’d class one of them as your friend now you shout her name as she walks past. “Flo!” You shout across to her.

You smile when you see her head whip to the side in search of who shouted her name, and a second later when you move from yours and Amelia's little spot over to the edge of your area and wave does she spot you. And when she does she gasps and waves, which melts your heart entirely. The artist makes her way over to you, looking just as stunning as she always does. As soon as she’s close enough, she has a bright grin on her face as she says an excited, “Hey!”

“Oh my,” She gasps as she stops in front of you and Amelia joins you at your side, “You two look gorgeous!”

You blush because a compliment from her means the world to you, but seeing her dress you can’t help but coo, “No, oh my god! You look amazing!” And she really does. Tonight, Flo is wearing a gorgeous lavender dress that flows gorgeously down to the ground and pools at her feet.

It’s a beautifully made dress, such a stunning shade of lavender that compliments her skin tone well, made from either chiffon or organza with ruching on the bust and thick ruched straps that hold the dress on her shoulders. The detailing just below her breasts makes the rest of the fabric drape down her body in the way you’d expect a disney princess’ too, and you also note that it cleverly hides her growing baby bump.

As she smiles, thanking you for your compliment, before you asks quietly, “How’s baby Turner doing?”

“They’re doing fineee…” Flo grins, running a hand over her stomach so the flowy material will reveal her bump outline to you and you can’t help but pull her in for a hug when you see how big she's getting.

“Don’t suppose,” You start once you let her go, grinning as you cheekily push your luck, “We can pull you for an interview…?”

“No,” She laughs, shaking her head slightly, “You don’t want me, but I’ll make the Monkeys come on for you.”

“They’re actually coming?” Your eyes go a little wide, Amelia’s too because you both knew they were invited but you never for a second thought they would actually show themselves, “I thought you were coming to sit with The 1975 boys.”

“No, believe me,” She laughs, shaking her head, “I wouldn’t have come to another of these if I wasn’t married to someone up for an award. Not after the last time.”

You’re smirking, about to respond with something witty about that night you remember so fondly watching at home on TV back in 2017. However, your friend's name rings out across the room.

“Flo!” You all hear a male voice shout from not too far away.

Turning the three of you see none other than Harry Styles walking his way over. And you’re half sure your heart falls into your stomach, Amelia’s probably too, but thankfully his eyes are mostly focused on Flo.

“Hey Florence,” You and Amelia watch as Harry reaches for the artist, “How are you?”

“Harry, hey!” Flo grins up at him, with a hint of something in her eyes that you can’t quite pinpoint. But you’re too focused on the conversation to dwell on that at the moment. The artist grins and hugs him, “I’m good, thank you. How are you?”

“Great, thank you.” Harry grins, the black suit doing the man such justice, he almost looks like a god despite the huge flower adorning his chest. He pulls her into a massive hug as if they’re been friends for years, “It’s so good to see you.”

Am I missing something? You can’t help but ask yourself. You’re more than certain though that Matty has never mentioned Flo being aquaintances or better yet friends with Harry fucking Styles. You’ll be having words with him for that later.

“God, how long has it been?” Harry thinks out loud, still looking as charming as ever, his eyes never leaving hers. It really makes you feel like you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be. He wonders, “Five years?”

“Six, wasn’t it?” Flo corrects him, still asking despite her clearly knowing, “2016?”

“Right.” You spot the singer almost smirking down at the artist, “The last I saw you was Jamaica, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Jamaica.” She nods confirming and you’re almost sure you see a little embarrassed blush creep onto her cheeks. Flo continues, “Lots has happened since then. Congratulations on your albums, they’ve been amazing. I’m excited for the new one.”

As are you and Amelia. Never in your life have you screamed as hard as when you got your tickets to Love On Tour for one of the nights at Wembley. Except when you got your At Their Very Best tickets… of course.

“Thank you, but I believe you deserve the congratulations, you’re married to Alex now, right?” The singer asks and the artist happily nods, her love for her husband shining through her eyes as she confirms Harry's thoughts. When she does, his smile is huge, “That’s amazing! I'm so happy for you both.”

“Thank you, got a little more to celebrate now too.” Flo holds her hand subtly against her stomach to tell him without actually having to explain aloud. “If you know what I mean.”

And of course he does. The genuine joy for her that seeps onto his face makes you want to melt when he pulls her into another hug. You and your best friend hear him say, “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thank you Harry.” Flo grins, as she pulls away from the hug, but she then turns to you and your best friend, introducing you with ease, “Have you met Y/N and Amelia before? They’re trying to get me to a chicken shop but I think you’d be more who they’re trying to recruit.”

“Hey,” You chuckle, raising your eyebrows at her, “You promised me that date!”

“You’ll get it, my love. I’m going to send Alex and the lads over to you and I’ll see you in there.” She promises, quickly hugging the both of you before she embraces the popstar once again, “It was lovely to see you again Harry.”

“The pleasure’s been all mine, Flo.” He kisses her cheek, lucky bitch. “See you soon.” He waves her off as she wanders back over to where you now see the Monkeys' other wives are standing waiting for her before they head inside.

But who really cares about them when you have Harry fucking Styles standing in front of you, looking you dead in the eye. You’re sure you could pass out at a moment's notice. You’d already been told that he wasn’t doing press, that pretty much no one would get any interaction from him as he would be surrounded by security when he wasn’t on the carpet for pictures. And he was, until he spotted Flo as a familiar face, and now he’s here talking to you and your best friend. And your inner 16 year old self might just pass out.

“Nice to meet the both of you.” Harry smiles at Amelia and then yourself before he leans forward to kiss each of your cheeks. Immediately, the subtle hints of vanilla, ginger, and woody scent fills your senses, Christ he smells so nice. You’re also never washing your cheek again. And you’re sure your eyes go wide when he says, “I'm a huge fan of the show.”

“You’ve seen the show?” Amelia beats you to ask. And it’s funny, you glance at her and her eyes are just as wide as yours were. Pull yourself together Y/N/N. You weren’t this bad meeting the man you're in love with.

“Of course. I love what you do so much.” Harry makes both of your days when he says, “I think you’re both the best people doing interviews right now.”

Amelia’s a little lost for words so she’s happy when you manage to get out, “Thank you so much.”

“It’s so impressive and you’re both so funny.” His smile is just as charming as he is, “I love watching your dates.”

Harry Styles loves watching your dates AHHHHHHHHHH!

“Funny you should say that,” Amelia gets her barings back and charismatically chips back in, “Because we love your music and think you should come on a Chicken Shop Date with us.”

Harry smiles at that, expecting nothing less from you gorgeous, talented women, “When the time is right, I’m all yours.”

You smile, appreciating that a lot, but you promise him, “We’ll hold you to that.”

This time he grins at you, “I don’t doubt you will.”

“We’re seeing you at Wembley in June.” Amelia tells him, letting her excitement shine through a little, which you don’t entirely blame her for. His music means a lot to the both of you.

“Oh,” He smiles brightly, “It’ll be lovely to have you there.”

You tell him truthfully, “We’re really excited.” But you won’t forgive yourself if you don’t casually plead, “Please play Only Angel again.” needing to hear that song live.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Harry grins before he gets ushered on by his security.

Instead of following their orders blindly though, he turns back to the both of you with an apologetic look before grasping both yours and your best friend's hand and giving it a tight squeeze as he sincerely says, “Thank you both so much. Sorry I can’t chat for longer, but I’ll see you in there.”

And he takes your breath away when he kisses the top of both of your hands like prince charming, “It was lovely to meet you both.”

You and your best friend just about get your good lucks and goodbyes out as Harry starts being lead through into the main arena, and as soon as he’s out of sight you turn to each other, wide eyed and say, “What the fuck just happened?!” and, “Oh my fucking god!!” at the same time.

Even when you turn back to your crew, they’re shocked by the encounter too, all not quite believing their eyes. It takes you all a good 5 minutes to recover before you get back into the swing of things.

A few more celebs make their way over to you, but nothing sparked joy like catching the eyes of Alex Turner, who despite being on a red carpet, smiled at you and looked like he was (dare you say) excited for an interview.

“Hello, hello, hello.” You greet the band as they walk up to you, all of them slowly walking into your little corner. Matt and Alex are the ones who have a microphone in hand while Nick and Jamie have their arms behind their backs but kind smiles on their faces.

Amelia beams at them all and greets the drummer, who she’d interviewed when you both were at Reading Fest, “Matt, lovely to see you again.”

“And you Amelia, Y/N.” Matt acknowledges the both of you with a smile and a nod of his head.

“How’ve you been boys?” You ask first to get them all talking, making them feel comfortable with you and Amelia before actually heavily putting on your characters for the interview.

It’s no surprise that you end up bringing up their new album The Car and you’re lucky you and Amelia are good at improvising because you hadn’t planned for these men to be here at all. Thankfully it paid off quite well and you both start rounding off their interview after a few minutes of you both making them laugh.

“Careful when you go inside, Charli XCX is in there.” Amelia begins and after a brief second adds, “She’s got a thing for cars.”

There’s a dazed look from the Monkeys so you deliver another punchline, “Yeah, if she gets her hands on your car she’ll crash it.”

Alex snorts at that, clearly understanding the reference to her album, no doubt thanks to Flo’s influence. The others laugh along, you hope understanding but you remember you have one more trick up your sleeve that will make the band, and you’re sure anyone who knows the history, giggle too.

“Oh Al,” You turn to grab one of the t-shirts from the display behind you and hand it over to Alex with a subtle smirk, “Think this top is right up your street.”

He takes it and unrolls it, a chuckle making him shake when he reads, ‘I Hate Matty Healy’ printed on the front and he holds it up over his chest, looks at you two, hand on his hip as if modelling it.

Amelia nods, “Suits you actually.” as you try to keep a straight face.

“Very fitting.” The singer nods as he mumbles into the microphone, before perking up when seeing there’s more of them displayed behind you. “Can I take one for Flo too? I think she’ll like it.”

“Course.” You smile brightly, turning back around to get another.

But when you hand Alex the top, Matt brings the mic up to his lips to ask, “You got any more?”

Amelia raises her brows and asks rather amused, “You all want one?” and when the rest of the band nods, you can’t help but chuckle to yourself.

“Makes sense because they’re up for the same award as you.” You quip back, giving them a perfect idea for when to wear them, “If they win we will put the tops on for you. Rep the brand.”

Alex hums into the mic softly and nods before mumbling, “Shall hold you up to that.”

You take that as a sign to end your segment with the band there and you bid them farewell with smiles and keeping up your awkward facades, asking them for a date when they leave your sight and making it an underwhelming moment for the sake of the interview. Amelia giggles as she lets her mic fall away from her lips and you giggle with her, a rush of joy running through your veins as you know the carpet is drawing to a close and the awards ceremony is nearing meaning that you’re so close to have accomplished yet another insane goal in your careers once this is over. You quickly reset your set with new ‘I Hate Matty Healy’ tops knowing it can’t be long now until your boys are due over.

You get a few more guests before the band you’ve dedicated so many years of your life to and who hold your heart (now even more so) in their hands appears in your peripherals, and you try not to look startled as you watch the four men walking your way.

“Oh god…” You hold your breath knowing this is where things are going to get tricky for you.

Amelia smirks, “This is gonna be good.” knowing that your boyfriend will have nothing good in mind once he gets to see you.

And he already has.

“Fucking hell.” Matty curses under his breath when you come into his view.

During your FaceTime earlier as you were both getting ready in your respective hotel rooms, you didn’t show him your dress, he only saw you getting your makeup done and he told you that you looked beautiful but then you told him he could wait to see your dress. And fucking hell, he wishes that someone would have forewarned him, his dick is already twitching just looking at you.

You’re wearing a black dress that starts as a tight corset which dramatically emphasises your boobs. But the long skirt that runs down and reaches your heels only covers one of your legs, leaving the other on show, letting everyone see the stockings and suspenders you’re wearing.

Matty’s chest flares with want and need as he can’t take his eyes from you as your team hand him and George the microphones before all of them make their way in shot. And their order ends up being Ross, George, Adam, and then Matty, which you’re thankful for because your boyfriend is furthest away from you with his wandering eyes.

As the other boys take in your set, Amelia can’t get the grin off her face as she notices Matty can’t take his eyes off you. She grabs the rest of their attention as she knowingly smiles, “Well, hello.”

“Fancy seeing you here.” You chip in, looking at the stunning men in front of you.

Ross, Adam, and Matty all wear black suits with white shirts, bowties adorning their necks, while George with his freshly bleached hair looks amazing with his black silk shirt open, showing more of his chest and a stunning chain around his neck. Even yellow tinted glasses make him look like the star of the band, something that you’ll make sure you tell him in front of your boyfriend later.

In fact, what's stopping you right now?

“If I didn’t know better,” You grin, “I’d think you’re the frontman, George. You’re looking very dapper.”

“Really?” The drummer smirks as he asks, catching the look on Matty’s face when he quickly glances around to the rest of them.

“Thinking I should’ve asked you on a date back then.” You clearly flirt but your awkward persona comes into play like the guys had been expecting since they walked over to you and Amelia.

Matty scoffs, “You’re all chat, you said the same thing about Ross.”

With a roll of your eyes, you continue playing into your joke, “Well, maybe I want them both.”

“No double date?” Amelia asks, trying to hide her smirk behind a puzzled look like the possibility of her joining you on a date with Ross and George was more important than wanting to laugh over the clear taunting aimed at your boyfriend.

When Amelia sees you shrugging, she scoffs and turns to the camera to call you out in the meekest tone, “She’s so selfish.”

“Three nominations boys, how are you feeling?” You ask, completely changing the topic of conversation in hopes that if you continue flirting here and there as the interview continues, you’d get some good reactions for the video from your boyfriend. You already can’t wait to edit all of this together.

“Very grateful.” Adam says humbly after George puts the mic close to his mouth as he sees him nod and mumble beside him.

Amelia is the one to turn to them and let them know of the plan you’d played about with the band that had just been in their places a few minutes before, “Just gotta warn you that if you win, we’ve started a new movement with Arctic Monkeys.”

“With the Monkeys?” Ross asks with a half grin on his face, like he’s suspicious of what you’ve been plotting with the band.

Almost immediately after, Matty asks, “And what would that be?”

But he gets no sign of an answer when you shrug nonchalantly, keeping your face blank and making them even more curious with a tantalising, “If I tell, the surprise would be ruined, no?”

Matty goes to ask but you tut, “You’ll just have to win and see what happens.”

“Are you feeling lucky? I brought my lucky egg, you can rub it so you can find out.” Amelia says, always comically eager to have people rubbing on the lucky egg she brings to red carpets. She turns to grab it from the shelf just behind the bassist, and you really have to stop yourself from giggling at the way she proudly holds the egg up. It’s genuinely like watching someone care for a baby the way your best friend coos over this egg.

“How many people have rubbed this egg?” Ross asks, an eyebrow raised and his dimples showing faintly beneath his beard due to the smirk that breaks on his face. God, you wish Ross would look at you the way he’s looking at Amelia right now.

And you wish you could be as cool about it as she is, keeping her smirk soft and her shrug indifferent as she replies factually, “Most of Hollywood’s walk of fame.”

“So we’re the best?” Matty asks rhetorically, grinning, “I see.”

“If you do say so yourself.” You say with the hint of a smile on your lips, looking your boyfriend in the eye properly for the first time tonight.

He looks so fucking good, and the lust in his eyes is so easy for you to spot. It makes you want to clench your thighs together, so you look away from him, back to Adam to maintain your on screen persona. You can do this Y/N. You can do this.

As difficult as it is ignoring the man you love, you push on for the sake of the bit. Amelia puts her egg down as you take the lead on your next question.

“You've been coming to the Brits since 2016 and you’ve won at least one award every year you’ve been.” You state the fact, giving way to the beginning of a bit that you hope gives you the reactions you were anticipating when you wrote it down with your best friend.

“Yes.” George and Adam confirm proudly.

Ross teases with a playful, “You’ve done your homework.”

To that Matty smirks, finding the perfect opportunity to pick on you, “With how obsessed she is with us, I doubt she even had to google that.”

You have to bite your tongue to backchat, sticking to finishing your joke as originally planned, putting on a pout as you fake pity for them when you say, “Be a bit embarrassing if you don't win something tonight, wouldn't it?”

A loud scoff comes from your boyfriend, whilst Adam and Ross giggle and George clicks his tongue softly before scolding you, “We won’t win with that attitude.”

“Ah, true forgot you were up against Harry Styles, sorry.” You wince sarcastically and deem it, “No chance there now.” before you give them whiplash again by randomly asking, “So who was your favourite member of One Direction?”

They chuckle at the sudden ridiculous question, and you have to press your lips together not to cackle at the sound of George’s laughter mixing with the giggles coming from the rest of the boys. Amelia is the one who continues on the topic by warning them, “You better say Harry or I’ll tell on you when we go inside.”

Comically, they play on the joke and all of them start nodding feigning honesty when they start saying, “Oh yes, definitely Harry.” at different times, repeating their words as they look into the camera so it sounds and looks chaotic.

“That’s right.” Amelia hums in approval, looking at the camera for a split second before turning back to the band with a new question, “Do you guys have any award show rituals? That you do to bring you luck?”

“Other than rubbing your egg?” Ross asks with an incredulous look on his face, it’s almost as if he’s holding back from laughing.

You sigh like the lack of answers is annoying you and roll your eyes to say, “Yes, other than rubbing Amelia's egg.”

To your dismay they shake their heads and all you do is give the camera a look of exasperation, Amelia is the one who makes you look back at them for she looks straight into Ross’ eyes and firmly replies, “Then I think you really should rub my egg.” She grabs it again and without hesitation offers it up to Ross with hopeful eyes. Something which you all end up laughing at.

Matty sees the way Amelia is looking at Ross and he makes a mental note to keep an eye out about it inside the venue. He knows you’re flirting with the bassist for the bit, and though he’s not the biggest fan of that, it’s keeping him the slightest bit amused; but Amelia is fully gawking at him and it almost seems like she keeps scooting closer to him as you all laugh.

So instead of keeping the teasing for later, Matty starts taunting your best friend right then, “Sounding a little desperate there, Amelia.”

Your best friend surprises him when she goes from eye fucking Ross to glaring at him in a split second, spouting a stern, “Not more than you look.” towards him because she’s seen just how badly your boyfriend can’t keep his eyes away from your figure and how everything he wants to do to you is written all over his face.

Matty’s jaw drops at her words as the other three boys loudly snort at her publicly outing him, but before they can start bickering, you tut and call them out, “Okay pipe down, no cat fights on the red carpet please.”

George and Ross can’t help their chuckles, Adam’s head hangs as he shakes his head trying to hide the amused grin on his face but his shoulders shake in silent laughter. Matty’s eyes flick from the fake little stare down with Amelia to you where he loses his breath all over again and he can’t help but look you up and down again. You’re so fucking hot.

Before you can break character, you bring up another question you had prepared, “Any collabs you’re looking to secure tonight?”

A chorus of thinking hum sounds come from your left and as Amelia abandons her lucky egg again, George is the first to break the silence as he honestly replies, “Not that we’ve thought of…”

Ross turns to you and Amelia to genuinely try to answer your question by asking first, “Who’s here tonight?”

But before anyone can give a genuine answer, your boyfriend is back to taunting Amelia by saying, “Maybe Aitch, you know. Just to get the group back together.”

You have to give your best friend props for she easily avoids Matty’s comment and acts entirely unaffected. She puts on a pout and there’s fake pity in her voice when she counters with, “Oh no, I’ve literally just given him his stuff back, that’d be awkward.”

Turning to look at your best friend, you give her a look that you hope she reads because this could be fucking hilarious. You tap your chin with your finger and hum loudly for a few seconds, an exaggeration of thinking of something, before you start talking again, “You need someone that fits your vibes, you know. Someone that compliments you perfectly.”

“Oh, I know,” Amelia grins, offering, “Yungblud.”

It takes everything in you not to burst out laughing when you see your boyfriend’s face drop into an unimpressed look before he rubs his temple like he’s getting a headache from the mere mention of the name and curses under his breath, “Fucks sakes.”

Your blood rushes with excitement when you know exactly what to add to make this even funnier, “If my opinion counts for anything… I reckon it’d be the morally obvious thing to do.”

Knowing exactly what you’re referring to, George and Ross burst out laughing and they turn to see a smirking Matty that’s holding back his own laughter at what he admits was a good joke. You and Amelia, just like Adam, are trying not to laugh but the amused smirks on your faces give you away. It’s so hard not to laugh when George keeps giggling.

Amelia manages to compose herself before you, but she completely makes your breath hitch when she turns to your boyfriend and asks, “Planning on kissing any fans at the after party?”

“Just the one.” Matty cheekily replies, a smirk on his face when his gaze falls on you with a hungry look on his face that threatens you to lose your composure. He shrugs nonchalantly as he adds, “Might take her to a chicken shop on the way home…”

You purse your lips as you hum, taking in what he’s saying but acting a fool, pretending not to get the hint and stating, “Lucky one.” with your brows raised in challenge. But Matty notes the hint of jealousy in your voice.

Of course, he wasn’t gonna give it to you easily, not when you’ve been teasing him and flirting with his best mates when you look like that tonight. “Wish I was taking you?” He asks, a challenging look of his own on his face. It only encourages you to play dirtier.

“Wish Ross was taking me.” You quip back, biting your bottom lip when you see him clenching his jaw at the ease of your answer.

And thank god for Ross knowing exactly what you’re trying to do because he adds more fuel to the fire, asking with a raised eyebrow and a sultry tone, “In more ways than one?”

Even knowing that it’s just a joke, the bassist’s voice manages to get you flustered and Matty seethes seeing the effect Ross has on you even though it’s not that noticeable as you confidently reply, “Many more.”

For the sake of the bit (definitely not driven by the need to stop this and have Ross’ attention back on her), your best friend adds her two cents into the conversation, “But you gotta go on a chicken shop date first.”

“Is that a requirement?” Ross questions her with a brow raised.

“Yes.” Amelia says at the same time as you say, “No.”

Ross presses his lips together when the two of you frown at each other, trying not to laugh as he asks again, “So yes or no?”

“Yes.” Amelia says again and you gasp at her response, almost whining when you go against her words again, “No, she’s trying to sabotage me.”

“She’s dramatic.” Amelia sighs and rolls her eyes at the camera, another gasp coming from you when Matty mumbles a, “Yes.” into the mic.

Narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend for a few seconds, you turn to Amelia and say, “You wanna know drama? There’s drama?” You point an accusing finger Matty’s way and he of course feigns innocence.

“Me?” He asks in a gasp, “Not me.” But Adam, George and Ross easily agree with you, nodding and concurring that your boyfriend is indeed a drama queen.

“Without me your lives would be so boring.” The curly headed singer at the edge of the group says, an offended frown on his face that makes you want to laugh.

Ross rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Sure, what would we do without you?” Matty’s mouth falls open at his sarcastic words and Ross puffs his chest out like he’s not taking back what he’s just said. It’s so funny seeing them bicker like children.

But before you entirely lose grasp on the dynamics of the interviews you usually conduct with Amelia here, you’re the one to ask yet another question. One that was completely improvised but that you hope you can steer into a funny bit.

“Ross, will you be letting your hair down tonight?” You ask, silently hoping and praying the answer is yes.

“Depends if we win,” Ross smiles and shrugs, “Could be on the cards.”

“You should, it looks very lucious.” Amelia proudly flirts, “Best hair in the band award would definitely go to you.”

You don’t miss the way the bassists cheeks turn to a hint of pink, and you’re half jealous that Amelia's gotten that reaction out of him. You can’t help but watch them like a TV show as you hear Matty scoff under his breath, “I don't think.” and God you hope the microphone picked it up.

“Speaking of,” To add fuel to the fire, you continue to ask the rest of the band with a smirk on your lips, “Quickfire questions for you… Matty’s worst hairstyle, go!”

The way Matty’s face falls is comical. He looks so offended you’ve even asked that, he’s never even heard you talk about his hair in a negative way except for your clear distaste for when he gels it back, hence why he’d left his curls alone tonight, all he’s done is style them a bit.

“Easy.” George comes in straight off the bat, “When he looked like a mushroom.”

It takes everything in you not to burst out laughing at the comment and the way you see your boyfriend's head snap towards his best friend. The look of betrayal just gets more intense as your bit continues.

“Ha, yes mushroom and microphone head over here.” Amelia agrees with George in a split second and you nod too, a wicked smirk on your face when you catch the look on your boyfriend’s face as you wish for this to continue.

“No come on, it was when he looked like a pot noodle for a few months. That was dire.” Ross groans at the memory of his blond long curls, shaking his head in disapproval as he makes eye contact with a very offended Matty.

Matty frowns looking at you and Amelia like you’ve just killed his dog as he complains, “This just turned into a slag Matty off fest or…?”

Holding back your smile, you’re thankful that it doesn’t deter the rest of the band from carrying on bullying their friend. In fact, Adam, the absolute legend, goes straight for Matty’s throat.

“If we’re being real, that mohawk made him look like a brush,” The guitarist tells you, pulling no punches when he adds, “Was ready to sweep the floor with his head.”

The laugh that bubbles through you then is something you can’t hold back, and everyone but Matty joins in with loud cackles that make the scene feel so familiar, you almost forget that you’re at the Brits red carpet and not on the tour bus on the way to some city in the UK.

“Careful he’ll lock you back up in his basement Adam.” Amelia jokes and it makes the guitarist snort at the mention of a joke he’s seen around twitter so often.

Everyone’s attention is back on you when you tut loudly as you shake your head, “These are all very good answers but I'm afraid you’re all wrong. The right answer is clearly that rat tail back in 2020.” You fake a shiver that definitely would’ve ran down your spine if you were to see a picture of that hairstyle again.

Groans break out around the group, everyone nodding and siding with you but what you’re not expecting is for your boyfriend to narrow his eyes at you and threaten, “Carry on and it’ll come back.”

You don’t leave room for that to even become a possibility as you sternly state, “No it won't.”

Matty challenges you with a smirk on his face,“Wanna bet?”

One that you match when you challenge him back, folding your arms, “Wanna lose a girlfriend?”

“You wouldn’t.” He says breathily, shocked at the way you just threw that out there.

Eyes narrowing again, you nonchalantly shrug and let him know he’s on, “Thin ice tonight.” and he feels the blood rushing through his veins heating up at the way you’re looking him up and down as if sizing him up.

“Why?” He frowns, questioning your words.

You shrug and your tone makes it sound like it’s obvious, “Your hair is styled.”

He scoffs entirely amused and his cheeks heat as he’s fully aware of everyone’s gazes going from him to you like a tennis match, “You expect me to win an award with my hair looking like I’ve just rolled out of bed?”

This is the only time you struggle to find your words, and your answer is so weak that it makes everyone hold back their laughter, “The fans would appreciate it more.”

It’s so transparent, Matty is the one to tease you for everyone with the most sarcastic tone he could muster, “Yeahhhh, the fans.”

He knows damn well all that’s going through your head is how badly you want to pull on his hair, and he wants that too; for you to pull on his hair as he disappears beneath your skirt and you make a mess of his pretty face as you cum on it.

“Domesticsss.” Amelia sing-songs in the middle of it all, looking into the camera with an expression that will definitely make you burst out laughing when you’re editing this video.

As a joke of wanting to protect her from the bickering between you and your boyfriend, Ross hooks his arm with Amelia’s and pulls her away as they start shuffling towards the side of your interview area so they can escape, “Dimz, come with us.”

Your staring battle with Matty is cut short when you see them walking her past you, you wrap your fingers around her wrist and pull her back towards you, “She’s staying with me.”

Amelia giggles in the middle of the predicament she’s in, but of course Ross lets her go with an exaggerated sigh for the camera and mumbles something into the mic that you don’t catch before he lets Amelia free from his grasp and she happily scoots back closer to you.

“Okay, that’s it I guess.” Amelia says with an awkward smile on her face, “Off you go.”

She shoos them away and you wave at them with the same blank expression which makes them all laugh as they start walking in front of you towards your crew.And there’s a bit of relief that floods you when you know their interview is over.

As you say a very flat, “Byeeeeee…” all you can think of is how glad you are that you didn’t break character and that it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be to ignore your boyfriend as much as you tried to.

It’s a relief it ended up being quite funny too and you’re so happy you got all that on camera despite definitely knowing that not everything was going to be in the final cut of the video. You can’t wait to edit all this tomorrow, it’s going to be so much fun.

“What's all that then?” Ross asks as they’re walking away, finally getting to see the display of tops which slander his best mate that has been hiding behind you the whole time.

You turn slightly and showcase it by extending your hand beside it, “Our display, do you like it?”

Ross laughs and nods his head as he starts being ushered away, “Brilliant,” Is what you hear him say before he walks further behind the cameras. George hands someone beside your camera man his microphone and follows the bassist, not before giggling about the display and Adam does the same before following George’s path.

But of course, once he sees it, Matty can’t leave it looking like that.

“Here, thank you.” He hurriedly says as he hands the mic back, before turning to you and Amelia and come back in shot to correct your set. He doesn’t hesitate to go behind you to your display while stating confidently, “I’ll fix this for you.”

With a speed that makes you want to laugh, he plucks the top that’s folded to show the ‘Hate’ so that it shows ‘Healy’ instead and places it under the one that says ‘Matty’, leaving your display to just say ‘I (blank) Matty Healy’.

You and Amelia watch expectantly as he reaches for another place on the shelves, grabbing something you don’t really notice before going back behind you and it’s when he places it in the empty spot that you realise what he’s done.

Matty has put a pair of heart shaped sunglasses in between the ‘I’ and ‘Matty’, leaving your display to say ‘I heart Matty Healy’ in an improvised attempt.

He gives himself a second to look at his creation proudly, turning to the camera and giving it a thumbs up before dashing away from the place you and Amelia take on the red carpet.

“Of course.” You scoff into the microphone, both you and your best friend shaking your head as if disapproving the whole thing.

Amelia makes her joke audible by saying, “He can keep lying to himself.” right after.

But you can’t go along with the joke at your boyfriend’s expense because he comes back in a hurry.

“Now what?” You quickly ask, sighing like you’re exasperated by his return.

But you’re not expecting what he’s about to do when he snatches the microphone from your hands and breathily says, “Forgot this.” into it before handing it blindly to Amelia.

In a split second he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and cupping your face with his other hand, catching your lips in a hungry kiss and he dips forward so your arms fly around his neck, he swallows the small shriek that falls from your lips.

Everything escapes you when his lips are on yours. Suddenly, the only thing that you know is that your boyfriend has you clutched tight against him and his mouth is moving eagerly with yours, his tongue teasing your bottom lip and you part your mouth to welcome him without even thinking that this is all happening in front of the cameras which are still rolling.

You don’t even hear the surprised, “Oh!” that Amelia lets out as your kiss grows hotter in a matter of seconds, but before it can all come back to you, Matty lifts and twists you to stand back up straight and pulls back. The smack of your mouths separating pierces the silence that has fallen around you, and he drops one last peck on your lips before he runs away once again, leaving you no time to even question what’s happened.

Amelia pushes the mic into your hands, seeing that you’re too busy being dumbstruck after that steamy kiss to continue your job for the night. The feel of the mic between your fingers brings you back halfway, your gaze moving slowly from your smirking best friend to the camera where your cameraman behind it can’t help but laugh when you’re just blinking at the lenses like a fool for a good minute.

“Ermm… I think we can say tonight has left us speechless.” Amelia quips to the camera before elbowing you to snap out of your trance.

Jesus Christ, your boyfriend is gonna be the death of you.

~*~*~*~

“Hey baby.” Matty greets you with a smirk, he can’t help but gawk at you all over again and his teeth sink on his bottom lip when he sees those stockings and garters you have under your stunning dress. He can’t wait to go home, after party be damned.

“How’d it go?” He asks wholeheartedly when you take a seat beside him, his hand instantly coming over your exposed thigh to rub circles on your skin.

You scoff when he acts as if he hadn’t ruined your facade when he pulled that little stunt on you earlier, “Went great other than you embarrassing me.”

“You loved it.” Your boyfriend rolls his eyes and refutes you with ease, smirking as he states, “The romantic in you wanted to be swept off your feet tonight.” He leans in closer to you and starts kissing from your cheek down your jaw until he reaches your neck and there he nuzzles his face into it, his curls tickling you and making you inevitably erupt in giggles.

Proud of his effect on you, he leans back slightly and steals a kiss that you just can’t deny because you’ve been thinking of that mouth since he shocked you with that kiss as he was leaving the red carpet.

He’s got you dizzy even before you take a sip of alcohol, and your skin lights up in flames from his fingers tightly clutching your neck. You can’t help but be the one to deepen the kiss, to let him know you feel just the same need as him and even considering skipping the after party entirely just to have him the way you want all night and at the earliest convenience.

But when you pull back and he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, you know that he’s got no issues trying to have you even earlier. Right now. His hand slowly falls from your neck, down your shoulder and arm until he can intertwine your fingers together.

You clench your thighs taking in the lust that has blown his pupils, the way his tongue licks at his lips like he’s indulging in the taste of your mouth even after your lips have separated. He’s eating you up with his eyes and you know him so well, you can almost hear him saying all that he wants to do with you, especially in this dress.

“Don’t even think about it Healy, I gotta give this dress back when the event is over.” You rest your finger over his lips and warn him with a smirk that you can’t hold back.

“But-” He fights immediately, his hand squeezing yours like it can help convince you otherwise.

You tut, “No. This is archive Vivienne Westwood and so is Amelia’s. Imagine how much I’d have to pay if I even spill a drink on it.” You tell him as you move your hand away from his lips.

“I don’t care, I can pay.” Matty says easily, rolling his eyes and smirking like he finds your concern over its cost funny or even endearing.

“Sure you can.” You sarcastically reply, a chuckle falling from your lips.

Your amusement dies when he leans back in and his lips brush yours when he starts saying, “There’s no amount of money I wouldn’t be willing to spend on you, baby.” He only leans back a few inches to look you up and down, his eyes almost rolling back in pleasure and a groan rumbling through his chest when he has an eyeful of your cleavage. “Especially not if it means I get to taste you under the skirt of this pretty dress when you look like this.”

Before your boyfriend has a chance to laugh at the way you choke on your breath when he says that, his attention is taken by a familiar face. And you must admit, you're thankful for the distraction, because you think you’d be willing to let him take you somewhere in this huge venue and have his way with you after that comment.

Alex Turner says hello to the table and eventually stops beside Matty where they hug again and just like you, Matty was surprised to see him here. He asks about where they’re seated and of course about Flo, and when he points out the table, not too far from your own at all, your previous interaction with the artist comes back to the forefront of your mind.

Matty waves over at Flo when Alex points out their table which is diagonal and just a table further in front of yours. You smile brightly back over to her, but then you remember who she introduced you to and you immediately go serious again when you turn to your curly haired brunette.

“You didn’t tell me that Flo knew Harry Styles.” You halfheartedly punch your boyfriend's arm.

“She doesn’t really…” Matty trails off, rubbing his arm and looks at Alex for confirmation of that and he nods, which confuses you even more.

You have to ask, “She met him here with you, right?”

You remember those Brits very well. It’s hard to forget the ‘that rock n’ roll ey’ speech and the shock of seeing who you thought was Matty's girlfriend kiss Alex Turner on TV.

“Yeah, 2014 Brits and I think that’s it.” Alex nods, entirely sure of himself as he has never recalled his wife mentioning that she’d met the popstar after then.

But you’re not having it.

Just as George comes up and says hello to Alex too, you think back to the encounter that you witnessed not long ago and tell them what happened. That’s not something you’d blush because of one previous interaction.

“No, she blushed when he spoke to her. They definitely know each other.” Your eyes are wide and your tone entirely confident when you tell them. Perplexed and confused is the only way you’re able to describe their faces. You continue to tell the three men, “They talked to each other like they actually knew each other. Said that they last saw each other in 2016. In Jamaica.”

At that you watch both lead singers' faces fall entirely, and for a split second you're left wondering what you said wrong as they both gormlessly look at you.

The drummer tunes into the conversation, his eyes wide and shocked, “Did you just say Jamaica?”

You nod, confirming what you heard of the earlier conversation and the three men all look between each other and a few scoffs manage to escape from their lips. What the fuck is going on? You can’t help but think. George, Matty, and Alex all look at each other with their mouths wide and Matty says a quiet, “Surely not.” before Alex’s gaze falls back on you to double check, “Are you sure she said Jamaica?”

“He said Jamaica and she agreed.” You promise them, entirely confident in your response.

Alex looks at Matty and almost scoffs,“I can’t fucking believe it.”

Your boyfriend is entirely just lost for words, while George is the one who laughs in disbelief, “I can’t believe we finally know who Jamaica was.”

“Woah, what?” Your voice raises a little now, a look in your eye that Matty knows means you need to know what's happening.

Your curly haired brunette finds his voice again, and he’s the one who tells you, “Way back when, Wheels told us all that she signed an NDA on her holiday to Jamaica because she had fun with a celebrity she couldn’t name. And she’s never once told us who it was and now you’ve spilled the beans.”

No. Fucking. Way.

“You mean that Flo and Harry Styles have…?” You trail off, keeping your voice low, not quite believing what you’re actually alluding to.

Surely not. Surely there’s not a woman alive who can be that fucking lucky. But all three men nod, still looking dazed. Your jaw falls and all you can think is, that woman is living her best fucking life.

“You’re kidding.” You say, hoping you’re misunderstanding because you’re about to lose your shit.

“We’re not.” Alex tells you and it’s only then that you fully believe and process what you’re hearing. You hand flies over your mouth, “Fuck off.”

And you don’t even hesitate to start walking over to her, and you do so like you’re on a mission. Which you guess you are, a recon mission most definitely.

“Florence. Turner.” You say in what you can only describe as a teacher's voice, and you sit beside her in Alex’s seat as you scorn her as quietly as you can, “You lucky little bitch, I want to be you. You lucky cow!”

She looks appropriately confused considering you’ve given her no context for your outburst. She chuckles, “What’s all this?”

“Alex Turner. Matty Healy. Harry fucking Styles!” You hold up a finger for each of the men she’s had sex with.“Florence, how do you get these men?!”

“Shhhhh!” Her eyes go wide, and panic is clear to see in her eyes as she whisper shouts at you, “How do you know about that?!”

“I asked the guys how you knew Harry so well and they were confused saying you didn’t. But you were blushing so hard back there so I-”

“I didn’t blush.” She interrupts, entirely adamant that she didn’t but you know better.

And you don’t blame her for blushing. If you’d fucked Harry Styles years ago and the first time you were seeing him since was at an awards show, married, and pregnant, you’d be blushing too.

“Hun,” You give her a look of disbelief, telling her honestly, “You went as red as a tomato when Jamaica was mentioned.”

“Oh god,” Her hands fly to her temples, eyes wide and then she looks at you dead in the eye. She glances over at the 1975 table where her husband also is, but she turns back to look at you before she even gets to see them. Flo has to ask, “They all know?”

You press your lips together, feeling bad you accidentally split her secret to some of her closest friends, her ex, and her husband/baby daddy. “I’m sorry,” You apologise, but she waves you off, not offended that you’ve let it slip, she’s just mortified that something else related to who she's slept with has come to light at yet another Brit Awards.

Flo can’t help but think, At least I’ll have the baby as my excuse never to come to another.

Interrupting her thought process though, you can’t help but ask, “On a serious note, is Watermelon Sugar about you?”

“Y/N/N,” Her eyes soften and she sounds as if she's trying not to laugh when she grabs a hold of your hand and starts, “I love you but-”

“No buts!” You stop her, this is serious and there’s no way you’ll be able to function for the rest of the night without getting some clarity. “It’s about you, isn’t it?”

“I’m fairly certain I’m not the only person he’s gone down on in the last six years.” She explains slowly like she was trying to make a child understand how time works.

But you’re far too gone in shock and you can’t help but chat back, “The song came out in 2019. That's enough time to have a song written about you.” A few beats of silence pass since she doesn’t answer and you’re left trying to get a grasp of what you’ve just discovered, “Can’t believe Harry fucking Styles has gone down on you.”

Flo blushes again, but instead of turning into a stuttering mess, she owns it and coyly smirks at you, “He did more than that.”

Your jaw falls again, “I’m so jealous!”

She can’t help but laugh at that, but she shakes her head and rests her hand on your thigh, “Love, you don’t have to be jealous, Matty's tongue is just as good.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Ah, no buts.” Flo interrupts, not letting you go down that route when she knows just how lucky you are. But she can understand the shock and the need to know, so she promises you, “I’ll tell you all about Jamaica when we’re not about to be on TV, okay?”

You hold out your little finger, wanting her to pinky swear, and it may be childish of you but you think your blossoming friendship can handle it. The gesture seems to light up the artist's eyes because she doesn’t hesitate to hook her pinky around yours, a silent promise confirmed between you. Your little moment ends up being interrupted by a husband with a knowing look in his eye. Alex shakes his head at his wife in fake disappointment, “I can’t believe you.” He looks down and takes his wife’s free hand, “All this time and it was that obvious.”

Clearly past the point of being embarrassed, Flo just shrugs and smirks at her husband, “Sorry Shakespeare.”

“Is that the reason why you wanted to come back this year, Angel?” You watch as Alex teases her when she stands up and wraps her arms around his neck as his wrap around her waist. His smirk is huge as he presses on, “Being that your fling is up for four awards.”

“You’re up for two.” She reminds him, her fingers deftly brushing his hair from his face.

“Two that we won't win.” Alex hums, and you can’t help but see just how enamoured he is by her.

He looks at her as if she’s the only person in the room. As if her smile lights up the entire universe and they’re the only two that matter. She’s his entire world, and it’s so clear to see.

“Love you all the same.” Flo grins, her fingers routing into her husband's hair.

His whole face lights up as if it’s the first time he’s hearing her tell him. And he doesn’t hesitate for a second to tell her, “Love you more Angel.” And he leans in to kiss his stunning wife.

They are somehow cuter than Adam and Carly, and George and Charli. They are the epitome of couple goals and it’s making you long for your boyfriend.

So before they have a chance to fully immerse themselves into their kiss, you quickly stand and ruin their moment.

“You’re both disgustingly cute,” You tell them and they don’t for a second look like they mind the halfhearted insult. All Flo does is hug her husband closer and melt into his arms when he kisses her temple as she looks to you.

You bid the couple farewell when you say, “I’ll see you at the afterparty,” but you look at the artist as you remind her of her promise, “Where we will be having a conversation.”

You turn to start heading back until you hear Flo tease you, “If Matty doesn’t take you straight home to get you out of that dress.”

“He’s already been told no.” You chuckle but you’re getting flustered all over again when remembering his words from just before this whole Jamaica thing had been brought to light.

Flo notices the way you take a deep breath and how it hitches in your throat, and she can’t help but find it funny. She can see it wouldn’t take much to persuade you, so she teases you further, “It’s never stopped him beforeeee.”

Knowing she’s talking from past experience has you losing your mind. Clearly, you’re going to be in for a night to remember when you get back home. But before you give her the chance to catch you flushing over your boyfriend and his horniness, you note that Alex is frowning at his wife after that comment which you can’t help but find funny considering the long history.

You point at her and playfully sing-song, “I think you’re on thin ice.” as you nod to her husband. You hear her laughing as you turn back and retreat back to your table, where your boyfriend is waiting for you eagerly with a huge grin and his arm over the back of your chair.

The night grows more and more entertaining as time goes on. The performances are amazing and the speeches make you giggle, as well as the interviews around the place that are fucking hilarious thanks to the Brits feeding alcohol to celebrities all night without being frugal with it. The absolute chaos the Brits bring is just so refreshing compared to American awards.

All of which Charli has been capturing on her digital camera, the one you have been handed multiple times tonight to capture pictures of everyone around the table. Charli has taken so many of you and Matty, you and Amelia and many selfies that have had the boys creasing all night. You cannot wait to post them on your Instagram when Charli sends them to you next week.

It was sad seeing both the 1975 and the Monkeys not taking the trophies home but you definitely gasped and yelled when Wet Leg won and they recited Alex’s infamous rock and roll speech from 2014. You started cackling more at it when you saw Flo cry laughing at it and cheering them on all while taking the piss out of her husband even more.

By the time Selin Hizli and Daisy May Cooper made it up on the stage and presented the nominees for Best Rock / Alternative Act, you’re messing about with everyone on the table. You, of course, cheer loudly when the nominees are shown and the two bands you’re rooting for flash on the screen but you’re not expecting either of them to win solely from how the night has gone so far.

So when the envelope is opened and the winner is announced and you hear a loud, “The 1975!” you rise from your seat like the whole table does and throw yourself into your boyfriend’s arms. It’s a quick embrace as the room erupts in cheers, but you can’t help but cup Matty’s face softly and pull him in for a short sweet kiss followed by, “Congratulations, baby.” before you hug George and Adam.

Ross is the furthest away so you manage to just blow him a kiss, but your boyfriend steals one more from you before he and the boys head to the stage to accept their award.

You can’t help but grin watching Flo stand up to hug the boys as they walk past. But you let out a loud cackle when Matty pulls back from the hug and cups her face and pretends to go in for a proper kiss, making Flo squeal and slap your boyfriend’s arm playfully.

Adding to taunting Flo’s Brit experiences makes everyone laugh and when Matty waves the joke off and kisses her cheek instead she accepts it and moves him on so she can hug Ross. Despite that though you see Matty lean down and whisper into Alex’s ear, and when the singer laughs at whatever your boyfriend says it makes their table burst out laughing when Matty kisses Alex’s cheek with as much emphasis as he did Flo’s.

As you turn to hold Charli while you watch the boys hug the actresses on stage, you glance back at Flo and Alex and cackle when Florence unfolds the top and puts it over her chest and sticks her tongue out at you. ‘I hate Matty Healy’ proudly being waved for all to see.

Charli turns to see it too and laughs with you, catching Amelia and Carly’s attention who also join in the giggles. You, Charli, and Amelia grab yours from where you put them near the centre of the table and hold yours up to your chests too so you stand in alliance with the Monkeys like you promised.

People around you laugh, and Carly takes a picture of the three of you like that, reminding you that you have to get a picture of the three of you and Florence in your tops before you leave. Looking back at the Monkeys table, you blow Flo a kiss that she reciprocates and Alex laughs as he shakes his head at his wife.

Your attention goes back to the stage when you hear your boyfriend start talking and you put the top back on the table as tears well up in your eyes at the sight. You’re so fucking proud of him and the boys, all of them incredibly talented gifting everyone their art wholeheartedly every time without fail, their passion for what they do seeping through every song they make and that’s what you’ve always adored about them.

Your chest swells with pride and your eyes are teary, you manage to grab your phone and start recording as they get off stage and come back to the table.

Matty hadn’t been able to tear his gaze off you when he was up there and he still isn’t able to stop looking at you, beaming at him with those eyes of yours gleaming under the lights.

Oxygen escapes him all over again when all of you come back into view, and he’s so glad you’re still recording because he knows you’ll have captured the way you turn him entirely stupid at the mere sight of you. That gorgeous face of yours that he wants to kiss until you push him away, that neck that he’s dying to mark up, that body that makes him lose control of any logic, those arms and hands that hold him the way he’s been craving his whole life.

He loves you so fucking much, his chest tightens at the thought of telling you right now.

But before he can even open his mouth, you’re throwing yourself on his arms again and pouncing on his lips without a second to doubt your actions.

Your arms wrap around his neck and his wrap around your waist, the kiss tastes salty from the stray tears that have finally managed to run down your cheek and sweet like all the wine you’ve drank tonight.

Despite the very large crowd you’ve got around you, you haven’t got it in you to hide away from the PDA this time. You kiss each other slowly and tenderly, like you have all the time in the world.

And well, you do because Matty can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather than with you. Holding you like this, kissing you like this, sharing his proudest moments with you just like he has shared his struggles with you.

He fucking loves you, adores you with all he has and nothing’s ever felt so right.

“I adore you.” He mumbles into your lips when he breaks the kiss, your chests rising and falling in rhythm as you take deep breaths.

“Adore you too.” You say back with a massive smile before catching his lips again. Matty’s heart feels like it’s about to burst at its seams, and it’s nothing to do with the award that he won only two minutes ago. He’s got you and he knows that having you by his side will forever be more than enough. Nothing and no one can compare and he’s certain not a single thing could make him happier. He loves you so so much, all he can do is hope that when he says it, you will make his dreams come true by saying those three words back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: We really hope you enjoyed this one! So sorry it took so long, we promise that it won't take that long for the next one. Can't believe we're coming to the end of this fic, we'll be getting emotional over it soon ahaha. Thank you so much for baring with us and for reading. Please let us know what you thought and we hope you loved it xx

P.S: NRIACC girlies, hope you enjoyed this one too xoxoxoxox

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koenigami · 4 months

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synopsis: that one time you accidentally lost ushijima in a mall on christmas. tags: fem!reader, fluff a/n: helloww sweet @ohtokki, your secret santa here! wishing you a wonderful time with your family and friends!<33 i really hope you like this little something i wrote for you and ushiwaka^^ it's actually my first time writing for him so i hope it's not too ooc ehe..

Like in a crammed can of sardines, people tried to navigate through the crowded streets and stores. Some of them looked for last minute gifts while others enjoyed the mesmerising decorations and lights ornamenting the city that seemed even brighter and more vivid once dusk fell. Watching some of the people rush down the halls of the mall you were currently strolling through, arms packed with packages and bags, wide and frantic eyes glancing from one shop window to another, you were more than relieved that Ushijima and you belonged to the second category of people.

“Wow, good thing we bought everything at - " Losing a nearly 6’4 tall boyfriend was hard. "Toshi?" But not impossible.

Especially in a crowded place like this one. With a deep sigh, you looked around, hopefully trying to spot Ushijima somewhere in your proximity though apparently it was not going to be that simple. A young man accidentally bumped into you. The pink gift bag he was carrying slipped out of his hand, though with a hectic hand gesture he managed to grasp it before it touched the floor. “I’m so sorry, Miss!” The teenager blushed and quickly bowed his head before scurrying off.

Meanwhile somewhere in the same mall, Ushijima paced from one shop entrance to another, curiously peeking over other customers’ heads, shoulders slumping every time he did not spot you. The “E” in the corner of his phone display mocked him when he pulled it out of the pocket of his jacket, and it seemed like no store nearby offered free wifi for him to at least send you a quick message.

Of course he could have anticipated that the shopping centre would be this packed today, though when you had asked him to accompany you to get your favourite dessert from the patisserie that was supposed to be somewhere around here, Ushijima had not been able to decline.

A soft tug on his pants pulled his attention away from his phone, and instead of a bright screen, he was gazing into big, teary eyes as a little girl shyly stared up at him, her height barely reaching up to his thigh. “Um, you’re ‘Shijima-san, right?” Had he not crouched down to her height, he would have probably not even been able to hear her question over the loud Christmas music that all of a sudden started playing in the background.

“Yes.” He nodded, somehow not finding it in him to correct her mispronunciation of his name, and instead patiently waited for her to continue. “My Nii-chan always says you’re the coolest so- uh, will you help me find him and mommy?” There was a light shake in her small, gloved hands as she played with one of her dark pigtails, the glittery red bows in them sparkling with every movement of her head.

A curt nod of his was enough to make the little girl smile as if he had just now shown her the entire world, and once he picked her up like she weighed nothing to place her on his shoulders, he indeed did show her an entirely different kind of world. Ushijima’s hands swallowed her much smaller ones, making sure that she was safely positioned and holding on tight. So this is what a giant’s view looks like, she thought, completely in awe about how she could truly see everything and everyone from up there.

“Where was the last time you have been with your mom and brother?” He inquired and looked around for… not exactly sure who. A panicked looking mother? A similarly frantic looking boy? While at the same time trying to catch a glimpse of you amidst the people moving past him.

“We wanted to buy cupcakes!” Her little legs dangled excitedly down the volleyball player’s borad shoulders while she explained that her mom was planning to buy mentioned cupcakes for her fourth birthday. “But then poof! Nii-chan and mommy were gone.” She gestured with her hands as if they had disappeared into thin air.

Poof, huh? Sounded pretty familiar to him when he thought about how you were one minute walking right beside him and the next-

The phone in his pocket vibrated, and Ushijima carefully fished it out with one hand while the other made sure the girl on his shoulders would not fall over.

“Hello? Toshi, where are you?” The sound of your voice eased the tension in his shoulders and he did not dare to budge from the spot that, thank god, provided him with some decent signal.

The little girl on his shoulders involuntarily eavesdropped on the giant’s conversation since, with whoever he was talking to, the small gentle smile on his face made it obvious that talking to them made him clearly happy.

“I’m on my way to the patisserie. There’s this girl I just met and she-”

“But we have just been there? And what girl?” It was not a rare occurrence for Ushijima to get held up by fans, yet right now you really just wanted to get home as soon as possible. The crowded space and your missing boyfriend were slowly but surely getting to you and tiring you out so much that you could not help but sound a little snappy over the phone. Whatever fangirl he was dealing right now, he better-

“Love, she’s four.”

"Huh?" Oh.

You loosened the woollen scarf around your neck once you heard your boyfriend’s breathy chuckle on the other end of the line, a light heat creeping up your neck out of sheer embarrassment. Manoeuvring your way through the slowly dissipating crowd, you listened attentively to Ushijima as he explained the little girl’s predicament as well as his current location to you. Since it seemed that you were not too far away from them, you agreed on meeting them at a flower shop in front of which they were currently standing.

“Was that your girlfriend?” The little girl asked curiously once Ushijima hung up, both his hands now securely resting back on her thighs. “Did she also get lost?”

“You could say it like that. But she’ll get here soon and then we will go to look for your family together, alright?”

“Yes! Thank you, Shijima-san!” She exclaimed gratefully, her arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug that made his heart swell. Remembering that she was now even taller than the giant himself, she figured that she could help him too find someone dear to him. “So, what does she look like?”

“Hm? Well, she’s wearing a long coat, a thick white scarf, she has long brown-”

“Is she pretty?”

Ushijima was a little taken aback by her question, since she made it sound as if an answer to it would be more helpful to pinpoint you than a detailed description of your appearance. Yet with a deep sigh and significant warmth in his eyes, he answered truthfully. “Yes, very so.”

And somehow, as if satisfied with his answer, the little girl quietly looked ahead of herself and rested her chin on top of his head. With each passing minute, the mall got emptier, customers wrapped up their purchases before leaving, cash registers in certain shops looked less busy, and even an employee who was wearing a santa costume looked like he had finished his shift as he walked past Ushijima, waving kindly at the girl who happily reciprocated the gesture.

“There!” The girl suddenly perked up after noticing a young woman hurry towards them with a fond smile on her face.

And how could you not smile when the sight of your lover with such a sweet looking young girl perched on top of his shoulders was so endearing to you. You approached them finally and reached up to greet the girl with a light squeeze to her calf.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable over there. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Chiyo!” She answered with a bright toothy grin before she fervently started to tell you about how she had gotten lost and found "Shijima-san".

Eventually, you made yourself on the way to the patisserie where you hoped to find Chiyo’s mother and brother, since it was the only place where you could get fresh pastries at this time of the day. By the way she clung to Ushijima, you could tell that she had warmed up to him pretty fast, and the same could be said about him. He looked so effortlessly handsome as he carried the child in a way that you would think he had never done anything else in his life. In a way that made you wonder what it would be like to have your own little gremlin sit on top of him and call him a “giant”.

Warmth suddenly engulfed your left hand, and his rare physical display of affection astonished you a slightest bit. But as he squeezed your hand gently, his thumb stroking the back of it back and forth, he simply stated matter-of-factly.

“Don’t want to lose you again.”

Right, Mr. Shijima, you thought knowingly. Admitting that your short lived disappearance had made him feel uncomfortable and that going through the same dilemma would probably make him age a few months more- that was definitely not something he was going to admit today.

However, when he had to put Chiyo back down and watch her run over to her Nii-chan, who coincidentally was the same young man who had earlier bumped into you, Ushijima had to admit that he was a little dejected about the fact that his adventure with the little girl was over so soon.

#fun fact #the dude dressed up as santa is hanamaki bc that's the only job he could get #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu ushijima #hq ushijima

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tendousfingers · 2 years

Text

slasher | eren yeager

summary: you and your best friend + long time crush end up alone together for a halloween movie night.

warnings: fem!reader, probably ooc eren, mentions of scary movies, vaginal penetration, mentions of choking, please let me know if i missed anything! 3.1k words.

you'd frowned at your phone for the fourth time tonight, a freshly popped bowl of popcorn in your hand being placed onto the counter while your eyes skim over yet another text message from a friend, this time, connie.

'gonna stay the night with sasha, she's sick.'

you knew. jean had texted the same thing before only a few hours ago, letting you know that sasha had eaten entirely way too much halloween candy and that she wasn't feeling well. it was no big deal, you had told yourself, there was still armin, and mikasa, historia and ymir, even reiner had mentioned going a few days ago too. but as fate would have it, you would receive another text message in the group chat explaining that they were going to hit up some halloween party instead.

it was fine, really. you weren't mad; you know that no one owes you anything and that the plans you'd made last week were a spur of the moment mention anyways, once you had discovered that your favorite collection of slasher movies had been uploaded to netflix. you throw your feet up onto the coffee table as you sit down, thumbs typing out a quick 'no worries, i didn't pick up a costume so you guys have fun.'

"ill just watch them by myself.." you mumble, tossing your phone aside onto the couch cushions and grabbing your tv remote. you point it, finger poised over the button to press play on the first installment of the series, only, you feel your phone buzz with another message. you lazily drag your eyes over to the screen as it was still on, your heart immediately thumping in your chest at the words displayed in the group chat.

yeager bomb: 'ill come.'

"holy shit." you can't even contain the curse that emits from your lips, his first text quickly being followed by another, 'see you in 10'

"holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!" you repeat yourself in a panicked frenzy, jumping from your couch and immediately running to your bedroom. the cheesy halloween pj's you had been wearing are nearly ripped from your body and tossed across the room, dresser drawers yanked open with such force you weren't sure how they didn't manage to fall out. you quickly settle for a simple outfit, a black crop top and black spandex shorts. you keep on your fuzzy halloween socks with little pumpkins, said articles slipping across your wooden floors as you pace like a maniac.

you had completely forgotten about eren, somehow or another the thought of eren being the only one to show up had never crossed your mind and boy, were you fucking nervous. the heels of your hands grind into your eyes before your fingers run through your hair, your heart pounding a mile a minute. the last time you'd been alone with eren, at a fourth of july party only a few months back, you had kissed. you told yourself it wasn't anything serious— a harmless kiss made by two people who had drunk entirely too much booze.

just calm down is what you keep telling yourself, phone shaking in your hands as you type out a response. it was only a little crush, something silly you had harbored for your best friend over the last few years while telling yourself that it's not like he would like you back anyways. the kiss however, made things much more complicated; you and eren were shying away from each other at every possible opportunity.

you bite you lip, pressing send on your message, 'okay (: bring a pizza.'

by the time you hear eren knocking at your front door, you'd managed to apply mascara and lip gloss, and even style your hair cutely. he notices right off the bat, as soon as you open the door his ears are immediately flushed from how pretty you look, eyes bright and lashes fluttering as you invite him in with sweetly plumped lips. as you lead him towards the living room, he could almost swear you were swaying your hips oh so sensually on purpose.

"why didn't you go to the party?" you ask, glancing at him from over your shoulder as you collect the popcorn and some drinks from the kitchen. you can't help but wonder if he came here for a reason, the thought dancing in the back of your mind.

eren's already gotten into the pizza, gooey strings of cheese stretching from it as he pulls out a slice, "i didn't have a costume either." he admits, gazing at you for what feels like entirely too long before looking back down at the ridiculously greasy slice of pizza in his hands, lips pursing together.

it's not like he was going to admit that he wanted to be alone with you again, that ever since that night he had been pining for you just as you were for him. that he'd been fisting his cock in cold showers after hanging out with the group every single time, just from a few passing glances of your face and maybe a moment that your cleavage had shown, or you had brushed close to him when moving past.

kicking his feet up on the table, he leans back into the cushions, "what are we watchin'?" you fumble with the tv remote, pressing a random button to refresh the page from the current idle screensaver, "oh, uh scream. that okay?" you glance to him, licking your lips before swallowing dryly. eren gulps down the large bite of pizza in his mouth, pointing towards the tv with a greasy finger. "course, you remember when i dressed up as ghostface last year?"

eren remembered vividly— but not because of his own costume, but because of yours. you and sasha had dressed up as a matching pair of a devil and an angel, an entirely classic costume idea.. but the way that red mini skirt gripped at your hips and the way that pointed, heart clip on tail swayed behind you with every movement was a scene he simply couldn't erase from his mind.

you hold back a giggle, biting at the tip of your thumb, "oh yeah! you scared the shit out of armin when you came out of the bathroom." you feel your stomach swirling with excitement and nervousness all in one, as close as the two of you were as friends, you couldn't stop your heart from skipping a beat as he looked at you with beryl colored irises, tawny lips pulled into to a handsome smile as you reminisced together.

you scoot back onto the couch, swinging your legs and placing your feet in his lap with a snicker, hands fiddling with the remote in your hands. you look down to your lap, a foot pressing into his thigh. "hey, ren..?" you speak softly, the abbreviation of his name catching his attention almost instantly. he could only recall one previous time you'd called him that, your voice shaky over the phone as you had asked him to pick you up from a local restaurant after being stood up for a date.

"yeah?" he's finished his pizza by now, hands gripping one of your feet and playing with the fuzzy cotton of your sock. eren gives you his full, undivided attention, admiring every detail of your face as he waits for you to speak. your lips press together, and you almost want to say nevermind and turn your attention back to the tv, but the attentive look drawn on eren's features encourages you. "i just.." you release a sigh, wiggling your toes his his hands, "wanted to say thank you for coming. i figured id be alone tonight, but you pulled through."

there's that pretty smile eren adores playing on your lips, and he can't help but mirror it, his fingers slipping just beneath the ankle of your sock to tickle at the side of your foot. "thank me? you know i wouldn't miss it for the world, you're my best friend." he pulls the elastic of your sock, allowing it to pop against your skin, "now get over here, i'm fuckin' freezing."

ignoring the dull sting against your ankle you shuffle over towards him, pressing play on the movie and setting the remote down. it wasn't weird to be so close to eren— the two of you had done this countless times before yet, the thumping of your heart is heard clearly by both you and him. he can't help but glance over towards you as you come near, scooting until you're shoulder to shoulder.

there's a certain thickness in the atmosphere as you guide your eyes to the television, both of you wanting each other yet neither of you making a move. eren had come for a reason— your shared friends encouraging him to watch the movies with you by himself because they were all aware of the feelings you had for each other. watching the two of you avoid each other in that desperate, lovey dovey way was painstakingly agonizing for them. they'd pushed eren to cross that imaginary line drawn in the dirt that separated you two.

dully, the movie plays behind your loud thoughts, churning within your brain. you can barely focus, the way eren had smiled at you and spoken to you making you all the more flustered. you felt just as you did that summer night, when his lips had pressed against yours so deeply and the bitter taste of alcohol transferred from him to you. it ended as fast as it began, sasha and connie rounding the corner all loud and rowdy with jello shots in hand. you and eren shared a final passing glance, before melding back into the party.

beside you, eren had come to a similar consensus. with a balmy hand, he places it on your thigh, turning to face you in the dimly lit apartment, with only the tv illuminating his features. "[name], can i be honest?" you'd switched your attention from the movie towards him at an embarrassing speed, shifting in your seat just slightly to get closer to him. you don't trust your voice, so you only nod then ghost your hands over his, a fingertip tracing his rough knuckles. his hand feels hot against your exposed skin, and it makes you want to squirm.

"ever since the kiss.." he starts, and you can suddenly hear your heart beating behind your ear drums, your eyes wide and guileless as you look at him. eren feels it— when your thighs press together just slightly and this only pushes him further, his confidence growing stronger. "i couldn't stop fuckin' thinking about you." it's as if the world around you is drowning out, the movie playing yet you can't hear it, only moving pictures in your peripheral vision. "all the time, driving me crazy.."

your breath hitches as he suddenly nears closer to you, close enough that you can feel his breath fan across your frontispiece. your bottom lip quivers just barely before parting, "me too.. i missed you, ren." with your every word, you nearly keen from the way his hand caresses your thigh, slowly inching closer and closer to the heat that spreads rapidly between your thighs. his fingertips meet with the fabric that shields your cunt from him, sticky to the touch already. he hums, eyes flickering up towards you with laze.

"yeah? thinking bout me makes you like this?" you spread your legs at his touch without even thinking, and eren sneers at your eagerness, rubbing his fingers even deeper into your clothed folds. even through your shorts and panties, you soak his digits, and that's enough of an answer to him. "ive barely even touched you, [name]." eren's chin juts up just slightly, that arrogant look you've known for years playing on his face.

"it's been awhile.." you admit shyly, averting your gaze away from him. eren cups your heat firmly, "then it's my job to take good care of you, isn't it?"

this time, you build up the courage to make a move, leaning forward to press your lips against his. it's soft at first, barely grazing together but eren grasps you with his free hand, long fingers spraying over your cheek and touching your hair as he pulls you in deeper, closer. you're both desperate for more, your hand gripping his shirt in a balled up fist and the other finding purchase on his bun, all his hair tied up in one spot being the perfect anchor to hold on to.

there's a quick moment when you part your lips to heave in a shaky breath, and eren steals yet another kiss from you, delving his tongue into your mouth with a low groan. you absent-mindedly tug his hair once more and eren finds himself leaning back with lustful eyes, that dull pain with each yank turning him on more and more. "you keep on doing that and i'm gonna have to teach you a lesson."

eren guides you from the couch to the bedroom with ease, knowing the layout of your apartment like the back of his hand. he can smell you on every blanket and pillow, the place where you lay your head each night.. the place where you might've even touched yourself thinking of him. eren could jump out of his clothes right now and lose himself, but he holds himself together for a bit longer while he's peeling your shorts down your legs.

pink flushes the apples of his cheeks at the sight, your plush legs spread open just for him, wetness seeping through the material of your panties and that bashful look on your face as you gaze at him. you drag your eyes over every inch of him, admiring his body even though he's fully clothed and you aren't. you stare especially long at the obvious bulge beneath his sweatpants, a pout forming on your glossed lips. you rub your foot over it with a whine as eren pulls off your panties, fingers pressed to your entrance and ready to slide in.

he pauses, glancing down to where you rub against him then back up to you, another smirk playing on his lips. "what?" eren already knows, but he'd much rather hear you say it. hear that sultry voice of yours telling him how *bad* you want him. your brows are pinched together, knees knocking into each other out of bashfulness as you look up him, eyelashes batting softly, "need you now, ren. can't wait."

eren feels his cock twitch, throbbing within his confines and he knows just as well as you do that neither of you could wait any longer. he tugs off his shirt while you work at sliding his pants down to his knees and soon his hands join yours with his boxers, cock swaying once it's free of his pants. one hand meets the plush of the mattress as he leans forward, shimmying out of his pants and letting his other hand slide up your side. there's no time to take off your shirt, so he hikes it up above your tits.

eren cups one firmly, his hips finding their way between your legs. like a magnet his glaring red cockhead presses flush against your entrance, and before you can manage to sputter out even a sound he's crashing his lips onto yours, thumb ghosting over your nipple. your fingers feel cool against his stomach as you glide them over, following that trail of hairs that lead you right on down to where you want him the most. your touch is soft, nearly hesitant with clammy fingers wrapping around his shaft and guiding it into your awaiting, inviting walls.

you both let out a sigh of unison at the feeling, your juices coating him and allowing him to slide with ease. "fuck—!" eren seethes through his teeth as he bottoms out, both hands hooking beneath your knees and folding you up nice and wide. you cry out, fingernails painting red lines across his flesh with every inch that stretches you out. your foreheads press together as the kiss ends, and eren keeps his eyes trained to where the two of you are connected, watching as he pulls his hips back just to drop them back down firmly.

the length of his cock makes you squirm, hips shying away from the way he bullies against your cervix already. eren grunts, releasing your legs to instead grab both of your wrists and pull them down flatly against your stomach. he braces down with this grip, his hips picking up a quick pace while rolling into you skillfully. you can do nothing but take it, and eren watches the way your pretty little eyes fill with tears. they spill over onto your round cheeks, and eren thinks you just look absolutely stunning this way.

to see you crying for him, with your lips gaped and brows furrowed together while you take him in again and again is enough to make him cum already, but he once more, wills himself to keep it together. he's not ready for this to end, and he intends to savor you for a bit longer.

eren jackhammers into you, and you find yourself wondering how you ever lived with out him fucking you like this up until now. how he somehow knows your body like the two of you have done this before, easily finding that spot inside of you that makes your entire body spasm, walls clenching around him sporadically, your fingernails digging into the palms of your hands as you let out a wail of warning.

eren choses to release one of your hands in order to rub against your clit with his thumb and work you through your sudden orgasm, watching with amused eyes as your body shudders and shakes. eren looks too good— and you can't help but crane your neck upwards, lips pooching towards him to ask for another kiss. with you looking like that, sweet and plush just for him he could never say no. he'd have to save it for another day because he's coming undone, leaning down to claim your lips as his.

"yes, yes" you cry out in a whisper just before his lips touch yours, legs tightening around his taut waist and your walls tightening even more. eren's hips stall momentarily as he reaches his pinnacle, only moving once more to pump you full with his release. you can feel his cock throb one last time, and this is what brings you to your orgasm once more. you whimper sloppily against his lips, holding onto his shoulders with an iron grip.

you feel your legs fall, relaxing from the position you had locked eren in. eren has other ideas however, long fingers clasping around your neck and tilting your head back just slightly to meet his gaze.

"one more time for me, yeah?"

ALL WRITTEN CONTENT BELONGS TO @TENDOUSFINGERS

#eren yeager #eren x fem!reader #eren yeager smut #eren smut #aot smut #snk smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #fingie.fics #the cosmos halloween collab

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idontknowreallywhy · 5 months

Text

Estera - Ch 22 - Assist

Ok, time to find out exactly how squished she got?

Last one of these for a bit as I have to put this story back in its box and focus on that worryingly skeletal secret Santa fic in my notes…

What went before

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She unthinkingly dived into the road to retrieve the precious device and clutched it to her chest in relief. A squeal of brakes had her looking round just in time to see the bus plough into her and erase her from existence.

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…

That’s probably what would have happened, Estera told herself, as she knelt down to retrieve the crushed phone from behind the front wheel of the bus. She’d done the right thing. She couldn’t have saved it. Even so, she couldn’t help kicking herself. The bus had so nearly stopped in time but then the driver had kindly rolled forwards a few metres to better line up the door with where Estera was standing.

So close and yet…

She dragged herself to her feet and apologised profusely to the driver as she fished around in her bag for a credit card to pay with. Her annual public transport pass was, of course, stored on the phone along with pretty much everything else. Ticket acquired, she threw herself into a seat and curled up, her legs braced against the back of the one in front. She rested her head on her knees and tried to regulate her breathing. This was silly, it was just a thing. An inanimate object. She didn’t get attached to Things.

It was just that this one kind of had her new friend inside it.

The screen was completely shattered, but somehow the phone didn’t appear to be entirely dead - the message was displaying and by tilting it from one side to another she managed to read around the spiderwebbed cracks:

Can confirm that particular meteorological anomaly is also present in London 😮☀️ Also, hi! I’m free for a few hours, did you want to grab that coffee?

A photo was attached but with no touch screen control she couldn’t scroll beyond the top edge to view it… she only had blue sky and a hint of chestnut hair to go on.

Estera methodically tapped on every inch of the screen trying to make something respond but achieved nothing more than embedding a small shard of glass in her fingertip. She hissed and tried to suck it out, dropping her legs down and ticking them under her own seat as someone slipped into the one in front. She couldn’t help but remember the feeling of seeing her message had been read but no reply forthcoming and was filled with dread at what he might interpret her silence to mean.

“No no no no no I can’t mess this up again.” She growled in frustration.

The person in front swivelled round to face her. “Are you ok, Miss?”

It was the labradoodle guy from the beach. She nearly laughed at the irony that it would be the same person she’d hysterically accused Scott of hiring to follow her. His eyes widened as he recognised her and he smiled broadly:

“Oh, hello again!”

She smiled weakly and gestured at her phone “Hi. Sorry, just having a bit of a moment”

“Wow, and I thought mine was a mess.” He showed her a scratched and battered but intact device then held it out towards her “Do you need to call someone? You’re welcome to borrow it.”

A lifeline! She gushed incoherent thanks then paused with her index finger over the call screen. She didn’t know his number, why hadn’t she memorised his number? Because she wasn’t some hapless teenager with a crush that’s why. Nobody does that. Argh.

But wait… she rummaged in her bag for her wallet, hoping against hope she hadn’t thrown it away… Yes! The pet shop loyalty card she’d scribbled the emergency contact number on the back of when Scott dictated it over the phone that night. She’d tucked it back in there after saving the number to her contacts. She’d only needed one more stamp to get 10% off her next shop and with the amount Bez ate… the number was a little smudged, but legible.

Alright here goes. She dialled the number and a surprisingly cheery, singsong voice answered after the first ring:

“Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant direct line, how may I help you?”

Gosh she sounded young. Must be a recent school leaver. Estera briefly wondered how someone that junior could end up working for the Tracys.

“Hello, is that Dawn?”

“Good afternoon, Estera Hermaszewska, I am indeed Dawn, Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant.”

“H-how did you know it was me? This isn’t my usual, err, phone?”

There was a slight pause.

“A limited number of people have access to this number. As Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant I made an educated guess.”

“Oh, well, ah, ok that’s great. Um. So, hello Dawn, thank you for picking up the call. I wondered whether you could get a message to Scott for me?”

“Of course. What is the message you wish me, as Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant, to relay?”

“Thank you Dawn, he sent me a message but my phone just got broken and so I can’t reply to it and so…”

Frantic xylophone music interrupted mid-sentence and continued for half a minute or so before:

“I have relayed your message.”

“Oh, I err, thank you but I hadn’t quite finished.”

“In my capacity as his Personal Assistant I can certainly relay a second message to Scott Tracy.”

Definitely something unusual going on here. She didn’t sound incredibly experienced. Perhaps a family member? Maybe the poor kid was just working to a clumsily phrased script? Well, either way, Estera wasn’t going to make the girl’s job any harder by asking questions. She tried to keep her message brief:

“Please would you say I’d love to have coffee - I have a… commitment booked for a couple of hours but maybe he could meet me there and we could find a cafe afterwards? The location is…” she gave the details of the clifftop viewpoint carpark where she’d be meeting the rest of the group.

There was a brief pause then the xylophone music returned. Estera looked up at doodle guy and mouthed an apology, he gave a double thumbs up in return.

“I have made further contact and Scott Tracy has asked me to tell you he will be at the location you suggested within 60 minutes. He appears happy at the prospect of the meeting. Would you like me to connect you to his personal comm? Alternatively there are many other Personal Assistant tasks I am amply trained to perform?”

“Oh, thank you, ah no I should probably give this kind person their phone back but I will see him then. Thank you very much Dawn, it was nice to talk to you.”

“I am glad to have spoken with you too, Estera Hermaszewska.”

Estera hung up and breathed a sigh of relief, handing back the phone with a grateful expression. “Thank you so much, you saved me from a bit of a situation there.”

He smiled uncertainly. “He must be someone pretty special?”

“Oh, gosh, no! I mean, yes. He’s fantastic but we’re not… it’s not err… he’s a friend. Just a… an old friend. Well, ‘just’ is the wrong word really. Isn’t everyone special in their own way though? All of us unique and all with our own, err, specialities.”

The guy seemed faintly confused by her incoherent rambling but grinned anyway and put out his hand “I don’t think we ever did the name swapping thing - I’m Dave.”

She hesitantly reached out to shake the offered hand but he suddenly gasped and leapt to his feet.

“That was my stop, sorry!”

And he was gone, hurrying down the aisle.

She shivered and then mentally slapped herself. She really had to stop assuming the worst of friendly people.

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John watched his brother’s face light up as he realised he had a message from the girl… from Estera. Scott smirked and without warning dragged John to his side for a self portrait shot in which John looked aghast and Scott was pulling the kind of deranged face they would more usually expect from Alan or Gordon. He chuckled and began drafting a message. For a few moments John could have spontaneously combusted and it was unlikely his big brother would have noticed.

He had to acknowledge that in all the… Concern… he’d experienced surrounding Scott’s interactions with his new friend, for all his tracking of comms activity, asking EOS to correlate that with his heart rate and sleep data… he hadn’t actually spotted the impact on his brother at all. It wasn’t merely non-negative. He seemed… younger all of a sudden. Lighter. This was what Virgil had seen? John felt an uncharacteristic pang of regret for the usual physical distance between himself and his brothers. It seemed despite his best efforts he was still missing things.

“Scott, surely you’re not sending that picture are you?”

His brother grinned and with a flourish flicked the send button with the back of his index finger.

John groaned “Why would you do that?”

“It’ll make her laugh. I like making her laugh.” The tiniest crease appeared between his brows and a brief flicker of something unreadable passed over his face. Again John found himself both curious and apprehensive about the circumstances in which the two of them had first encountered each other.

It was somewhat ironic that the same person whose reappearance in his life had caused all that pain and confusion should have become a positive influence so quickly. For all Scott’s adamant denial that he had the slightest romantic intention, he was clearly already quite fond of her. John desperately hoped whatever this was going to be, an uncomplicated friendship or… anything else, that it was going to work out. It had to, he thought with grim determination. His breath caught as a memory intruded - his brother collapsed against him on the bedroom floor, sobbing in agony as his fever-ravaged mind tore itself apart. John would never forget the gut wrenching sound of Scott’s grief. He tightened his jaw and glanced over at the same man, now quietly smiling to himself. The universe owed his big brother a break and John would do everything in his power to ensure he got it.

“We’d better head back to Tracy Two and get you down to the Westcountry then. I’ll pop in on Penny and you can let me know when to come and pick you up.”

“I don’t know if she’s free yet. Slow down, Johnny.”

The “don’t call me Johnny” was a reflex of course but John barely knew he was saying it, being too busy reeling from the two words that preceded it. Two words he wasn’t sure the speed demon next to him had ever uttered together before without the word DON’T in front of them.

John looked down at the messaging app displayed on his brother’s comm, the one attaching the awful photograph had been delivered and read so, surely soon…

Scott swiped it closed and drained the rest of his cup. There was a silence as he ran a finger around the edge of the lid almost meditatively then he appeared to shake himself and, in a sudden movement, crushed it and swivelled to face his brother.

“So how’s Penny doing anyway? We’ve not seen her for a while.”

“Hello Scott”

They both jumped as a hologram of a familiar ring of lights popped out of Scott’s comm between them. John recovered first:

“EOS, is there a situation?”

“Oh, hello John. I have been acting as Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant and I believe I have performed exceptionally.”

John raised an eyebrow at Scott who looked faintly bemused.

“Well done EOS. What did you do, exactly?”

“I received a call from Estera Hermaszewska and recorded a message for you.”

Comprehension dawned in Scott’s eyes followed by a forehead wrinkle of anxiety. Estera’s voice suddenly emerged from his wrist.

“Thank you Dawn, he sent me a message but my phone just got broken and so I can’t reply to it and so…”

It cut off abruptly and EOS disappeared.

“EOS! Wait!” Scott clapped a hand to his forehead and John sighed:

“I knew this was a bad idea.”

“It was you who suggested it, John!”

“That may technically be true but short of you almost dying on live television I didn’t think she’d actually need to use it!”

“Now what?”

“I’ll try to raise EOS again, give me a second.”

Before John could raise his own comm. EOS reappeared and exclaimed excitedly:

“I have a second message for Scott Tracy from Estera Hermaszewska”

“EOS, wait, once you’ve played it would you stay with us so I can send a message back?”

“Of course, Scott.”

They could hear background chatter and then Estera clearing her throat awkwardly before

“Please would you say I’d love to have coffee - I have a… commitment booked for a couple of hours but maybe he could meet me there and we could find a cafe afterwards? The location is…”

John pulled up a map showing the highlighted postcode and Scott squinted at it then beamed

“Looks like about half an hour’s drive from Dunkeswell Airfield. Can you drop me there and I’ll pick up a hire car?”

“Is that the message I should relay, Scott?”

“No! Err no, could you say I’ll be there in about an hour?”

EOS disappeared again.

“Why don’t I just drop you in the field at the top of the cliff there? Last time I checked Tracy Two’s VTOL was working just fine?”

“No. I’d rather drive. I don’t want to use the plane… she doesn’t… it might… I mean…” his brother looked flustered “I don’t want to be all ‘check me out with my private jet’ when she could be with friends or something.”

John took a moment to contemplate what must be the first time in history Scott Carpenter Tracy didn’t want to be associated with an aircraft.

“I just want to keep it low key.”

“Good plan. However, have you considered what you’re wearing?”

Scott looked down at the dark blue three-piece Italian custom-made suit his TI EA had handed him that morning… was it Borrelli this time? John hadn’t been paying enough attention to be sure. As the token younger Tracy in the room it didn’t matter much what he wore, but as CEO, Scott had a certain image to maintain and Jennifer curated his office wardrobe with a somewhat terrifying zeal.

“Do you want to head back to the office and fetch your casual stuff?”

“Nah, someone will spot me and need something, we’ll get stuck there for hours. I left a sweater in Tracy Two, that’ll do.”

“Alright then Prince Charming, your carriage awaits.”

Scott cuffed him round the back of the head. John responded by ruffling his big brother’s perfectly styled hair and running away, chuckling as the man squawked in horror and chased after him.

“You are worse than Gordon, Johnny, I swear!”

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#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #tb estera #estera #EOS #The Commander and The Murderbot #PA Dawn #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #don’t mess with the hair

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mqverick · 6 months

Text

Waking On Air || chapter 5

It was ironic, honestly, how you managed to get back with Tom, but had the person who’d gotten under your skin eventually steer clear of you. Maverick; the daily thrill of your day, the annoying little parasite you couldn’t scratch off your body, the person who wouldn’t leave your side for a moment had been ignoring and breaking your heart for what was nearly a week.

At first, you’d barely noticed. Preoccupied with how you’d somehow managed to put your joy second for once again in order not to hurt Tom, you’d missed how Maverick would instantly change paths if he was walking the same direction as you. It began being clear, though, a couple of days later.

Like the refrain of a sappy heartbreak song, it physically burned you to come into realization with the fact that Pete Mitchell had stopped showing signs of interest in you and it had you puzzling yourself over what you’ve done wrong.

The sudden change of his behavior ended up affecting you more than your mind could possibly imagine. Your eyes drooped with sleep, skin pale as you forced yourself to walk into Viper’s office, legs and heart heavy. Sure, you weren’t stupid; you knew that all the exhaustion had ruined your performance, constantly getting called off your aircraft and aborting missions.

Part of you knew exactly what you were going to get told, word by word — but the other part chose to not expect anything. Your plane was all that could get you through miserable conditions such as the current one and you couldn’t bare to get grounded or even worse, suspended.

The words that came out of Viper’s mouth came as no surprise to you, yet still managed to make your knees weaken, uncomfortably cleaning your throat as he dismissed you. Your fingers rolled into fists, digging deep into the sides of your uniform as you bit back an entire breakdown that was hanging on from a thin thread.

You’re grounded, Lieutenant.

He’d promised it’d only be for a small amount of time, until you’d come back to your senses and would be able to perform again, but it’d cut deep through your already stretched out and bruised ego.

“Roger?” a familiar soft voice called from behind you, causing you to turn around slowly. You came face to face with a very worried-looking and confused Maverick; his brows cocked in attempt to read your stiff expression. You tried to speak to him, but found your voice dying down between chokes that accompanied tears. After glancing around reluctantly to make sure no one else was passing by, you lunged your body forward, hitting Maverick’s chest with a slight bump, burying your head in his neck and clutching your arms around his shoulders. Crestfallen, you dampened the fabric of his own uniform with your sobs, only just realizing how powerful the overstimulation you’d been holding back had gotten.

Maverick was hesitant to touch you at first. He didn’t much know what to do with himself — it was the first time you’d ever touched him as well (besides the occasional punches in his shoulders for being a jackass) — but as the lavender scent from your shampoo filled the air, his arms encircled your waist gently, holding you with so much warmth and fear at the same time; as if you were expensive china he’d be petrified to break.

His heartbeat was beating so loud that his brain was getting dizzy by the sound of his blood pumping through his veins. Having you in his embrace spoke volumes, making him melt in a puddle. It scared you to admit that your body was having an experience same to his.

The hug was tentative at first but gradually grew more secure as your sobs eventually came to an end, eyes dry and puffy. You wanted to let go of the pilot’s enveloping embrace, even though not a single muscle moved when the message was delivered to your nervous system.

“‘M sorry,” your voice was muffled by his shoulder and you finally found the courage to pull away from him and take him in, the hypnotized and sort of dumb look on his face. The corners of your lips curled into a tiny smile, which he mirrored as he unintentionally ran his hands up your back, exploring the feel of your uniform against his calloused palms, until they stopped at your shoulder blades, suddenly making him a lot jumpier than before. He quickly took a few steps back from you, causing your little grin to drop.

“I have to go,” he blurted out in a rush, almost running into a wall as he fastened his pace, walking away from you. Your heart ached as you watched him leave — the same way he’d felt when he had to watch you do the same thing to him back when you’d met with him at the cliffs.

A little sniffle, a tear escaping as you wiped it away, not knowing what to do with yourself. How had it gotten like that?

The slanting rays of the setting sun gave a warm orange tinge to the sky, as you tiredly gazed outside of your window, chin propped on your hands. The boredom was killing you slowly along with the package of unanswered questions of why Maverick was going through such a hard time with you. The phone was ringing and you were pretty sure it was your boyfriend calling you to ask if you’d like to come over to his place, but you already knew what your answer would be.

It shot arrows through your heart; having to pretend around Tom. He was such a kindhearted man and he deserved so much better than you, you just wished you had the courage to tell him.

An unexpected face popped up on your window and you jumped behind, almost hitting your head on the coffee table, hand over your fast beating heart. It was Goose, with a wide smirk on his face, snickering at your reaction. He motioned you to open the window and you did, still sort of shaking thanks to the fright he gave you.

“‘Ey, there,” he mocked in a British accent.

“Get lost, Bradshaw.”

Goose placed a hand over his heart, too, pouting in fake sadness. “Your words wound me, Lieutenant.” You rolled your eyes and slightly pushed him away, trying to hold back a laugh.

“What happened, Goose?”

“You and Mav,” he replied almost immediately, causing your eyebrows to raise in confusion. “Well, as mentioned before, you guys are my second family, aside from my baby boy and Carole, and having to watch both of you look so ridiculously miserable when you obviously both have the hots for each other kind of frustrates me.”

You cringed at the word ‘hots’, knowing your feelings for Maverick had moved far past that line. “We’ve talked about that before, Goose.”

“Yeah, I know,” he dismissed with a sad smile, placing his hand on your arm, holding you softly as he carefully caressed the fabric of your thin black shirt. “What I also know, though, is that aside from what your façade shows in public, you both have no balls to face your feelings, ergo me intervening.”

“Even if I wanted to talk to him,” you hummed quietly, looking down at your feet, “he’s been fucking avoiding me as if I’ve got leprosy.”

Goose chuckled. “I think you might be forgetting that I have his address,” he suggested, slipping a small, crumbled piece of paper into the pocket of your sweatpants, then proceeded to mess your hair up goodbye with some poor excuse of having to leave and that the decision was yours to make.

You reached into your pocket and unfolded the little paper, staring blankly at it for a moment.

Maverick was minding his own business when he heard an unexpected trail of shaky knocks on his door. It’s late, he thought, rubbing his eyes open as he walked towards the door, opening it while trying to regain consciousness from being half dozed off. “Goose, I swear to God—”

“Try again,” he heard a feminine voice chirp, his eyes suddenly wide open, pupils blown away in shock — and confusion — as he stood frozen, gaping at your frame. He looked so priceless you almost felt sorry for surprising him like that.

“Roger?” he questioned with a slight voice crack.

“Aren’t you letting me in?”

“Uh, yeah, of course.” Maverick moved aside, inviting you in as he shut his door. He was afraid that you weren’t real; that this was all part of a dream he’d wake up from feeling lightheaded again, was terrified of moving any muscle of his body that could potentially ruin the dream and make you disappear from in front of him.

“I’m sorry for showing up like that,” you apologized, looking everywhere but at him.

“It’s okay, you know I don’t mind,” his response came quick along with a sharp intake of breath. Sputtering and struggling to find the words — or even get his mind think straight for that matter — Maverick scraped a hand through his un-gelled, short hair and opened his mouth. “How did you, uh, how did you know where I live?”

You chuckled, wanting to give him the same stern-looking smirk he’d been giving you since the first time you saw him. You’d never come across through such a fidgety version of Maverick before and you were terribly tempted to give him the worst time, turn his face crimson, but you opted to be civil about it.

“Not the only one who’s got the monopoly of barging into people’s houses anymore, huh? I’d keep an eye on your title if I were you, Lieutenant Mitchell.” Maverick eased, smiling a little at your joke. He offered you a glass of water (and the leftover vanilla cake Goose had made for him in the weekend), then sat down with you on his couch. “Seriously, though, I just wanted to apologize for whatever I’ve done that’s driven you away. It’s been eating my head all week.”

Maverick shifted nervously and you bit the inside of your cheek, scared you’d hit a nerve. A long, loud sigh from both of you — and then he was looking at you straight in the eyes, fingers tangled his in dog chains.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he murmured lowly, swallowing around the lump in his throat. His tongue darted out to wet his dry lips and you couldn’t help but feel guilty about how he lacked of that Maverick bit about him.

“Then how come you avoid me every time we’re in the same room, Pete? We’re all in the same academy, one way or another you’d eventually be forced to talk to me anyway.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place?” You scrunched your nose in confusion, cocking your head to the side. Maverick turned his body to you, facing you completely. “Not to talk to you all the time? Not bother you, not be up your ass? It would make Kazansky uncomfortable.”

“For fuck’s sake,” you exhaled in exhaustion, massaging the spot between your eyebrows. Had he been that upset because of Tom? “This entire time you’re telling me that you’ve been treating me as a deadly disease because you’re suddenly oh, so kind to not mess with Tom and me?”

Maverick bunched his hands in fists and brought them up on his forehead, leaning towards his knees. “It’s not a ray of sunshine to watch you be every second of the day around him, you know.”

“He’s my boyfriend, Pete, what the hell am I supposed to do — stab him repeatedly in the chest and then leave him a note saying how he should take me out on that fancy restaurant around the corner?!” You instantly regretted the tone of voice you’d adopted, curling back into the couch until your back hit the arm. “Look, all I’m saying is that maybe you should give up on me.”

A profound emptiness opened up inside him, threatening to swallow him whole, his heart feeling as if it was getting squeezed. “I don’t want to.”

Your pupils widened, cheeks scorching under the dim lighting of Maverick’s living room. It was exactly what you’d been dreading to hear and what you prayed not to come out of his mouth at the same time — it caught you so off guard that you thought you were having a near heart attack experience. You crossed your legs, tapping your fingers on the top of your knees in prevention of grabbing his face and smashing your lips against his without thinking about the consequences.

“What do you mean you don’t want to?”

You knew precisely what he meant, yet your mind was spinning, dizzy by his words, lost in his eyes and intoxicating smell. Maverick scooted closer to you, bumping the heel of his foot against yours.

“I mean I don’t want to,” he repeated, voice lower than the first time, adopting a shy tone. There it was again; the Mitchell charm you’d missed about him, the slight teasing, the smirk, the look on his face that made you ascend. “Do you want me to give up on you?”

No, never, don’t you dare give up on me. You simply stared at him, so breathless, so out of your comfort zone, so speechless. He looked angelic and his words were getting your body to reach inhuman temperatures — you thought you’d die if he kept looking at you like that. Your lips parted, wanting to reply to him, because — god — had you been looking stupid enough standing there in front of him like a statue. Maverick grazed the tip of his fingers against yours, waiting patiently for any reaction. His thumbs traced your knuckles in a silent confession — he couldn’t let all of it out yet, it was too soon and he didn’t want to risk getting the remains his already broken heart completely shattered.

You couldn’t get any words out of your mouth, which was frankly becoming quite embarrassing. In that moment, only the two of you existed, leaving the rest of the world in a blurry fade; it was just you and Maverick and thousands of loud, yet unspoken words in between.

“Maverick,” you eventually breathed, but your voice muted when you realized how close he’d gotten, his forehead almost touching yours as he tested the waters and slowly began leaning in. Your eyelids shut instantly, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you felt hot puffs of air against your skin. Warmth pooled between your thighs, lips aching to touch his very kissable ones, but you couldn’t. A finger came up against them instead, slowing him down— but didn’t stop him from pressing a kiss on the pad of it.

You were sure you’d asphyxiate yourself by not allowing yourself to breathe normally — or at all, for that matter. You leaned your head against his, eyes still closed. “We can’t,” you whispered with a heavy heart and felt him sigh.

“Why not?”

“You know why,” was your answer, even though you yourself hadn’t had the slightest idea of what you were talking about. Not kissing him had been the hardest task you’d ever executed (suddenly losing your life in the pre-flight seemed like a sweet idea) and you hated yourself for it. You hated breaking Maverick’s heart again and again.

“Roger…”

“When I first met you,” you muttered quietly with a relaxed smile, “I thought you were the most arrogant and pompous person I’ve met.”

You heard him chuckle, the sound of his laughter jumpstarting your heart in the most beautiful way possible. “Is that so?”

“Mhm, yeah. Never thought a human with an ego bigger than his actual physical height existed. You probably proved me wrong.” You took your sweet time with finally pulling away from him, bringing your palm against his cheek.

“D’you still think that?” Maverick asked innocently, leaning towards your touch.

“Kind of.” He was everything you hated and loved. Pete Mitchell was the only person in your life that made you lose control, that had you falling into an abyss without reaching anything. “Pete?” you spoke his name softly, removing your hand from his face.

“Yeah?”

You got up from your seat, walking towards his door and opening it. Just before you were about to leave, you stopped to look at him, nervousness pulsing through your veins with every beat of your heart. “Don’t give up on me yet.”

chapter 6

tags:

@holishol

@iheqrtaustin

@lemmons1998

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matan4il · 9 months

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More good-natured Mileapo silliness from their recent trips! (the first post is here)

On Jul 24 Mile shared a pic of himself in a Ralph Lauren green jacket, giving us a glorious back view:

The next day, Apo visited iQiyi's office, then left China for Bangkok. He was wearing a green Ralph Lauren shirt:

*Coincidence? I think not.gif*

It reminded a lot of fans of the green shirt Apo was given as a gift by a fan, and which Mile wore to a concert, which begs the question, if Apo does love this style, why did he not wear that gift himself in the first place? Passing it on with the explanation of "it would fit him better than me" doesn't seem to apply here.

Mile's mom liked a pic of Apo on the IG page of Mos (BOC's make-up artist). I adore it when Mile's family shows support for something that is specifically about Apo rather than a Mileapo pic/post/banner, 'coz then people can't dismiss it as support for Mile that just so happens to also include Apo as his co-star.

During an entire week in Belgium, Mile only posted his (normally daily) GN message twice: once when he went on his like spree on Apo's posts on Weibo, and the other time was last night, after Apo returned to Thailand safely. In fact, yesterday Mile even added the words "miss miss" to his GN with a green heart emoji. No prizes for you if you guess who Mile is missing.

Perhaps someone who was himself up at 4 in the morning Bangkok time (despite the time different between Thailand and Shang Hai only being one hour), liking and commenting on Mile's post...

And lastly, somehow they managed to dress very similarly on several days, not just one, for example today they were both wearing blue, even though it's not a color they commonly wear. Here's Mile in Paris:

And Apo in Bangkok:

(all of my Kinnporsche/Mileapo posts are at this tag)

#mileapo #mkp #mile phakphum #mile phakphum romsaithong #phakphum romsaithong #apo nattawin #apo nattawin wattanagitiphat #nattawin wattanagitiphat #man suang #man suang cast #kinnporsche #kinnporsche cast #kinnporsche the cast #kpts cast #kpts the cast #the dots i've connected them #or maybe i haven't but shush. life is hard and this is joy

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sashaisready · 6 months

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Chapter 3 - Now or Never

Nick Fowler x Reader

Summary: Reader is a brilliant but shy and awkward CIA employee whose work is often overlooked by her colleagues…she’s blended into the background for so long that she doesn’t think there’s any other way - even if she does have secret aspirations for another life. Unbeknownst to her - a certain blue eyed agent is very aware of her talents, even if nobody else is.

Under the Radar Masterlist

<Chapter Two - Beige

Warnings: Angst! Nick being a dick, some sexist/misogynistic language

Wordcount: 3804 (sorry quite a long one but there’s a lot of stuff to set up 😉 I am excited!!)

You could barely sleep after he left. You managed to grab a few hours…somehow…but you laid wide awake just after 5am. Your mind couldn’t settle. You just replayed what he’d said over and over again.

No drive. Beige. Nothing. No drive. Beige. Nothing.

He was embarrassed of you. All this time you had hoped you were wrong. That you were overthinking it. You had clung weakly to the idea that he’d dismiss such a thing if confronted.

But you were right.

He was ashamed to be seen with you. Ashamed if anyone found out that he was sleeping with you.

The worst part was…he wasn’t entirely wrong. You knew that about yourself. You played it safe. You liked it comfortable, you liked a sure thing. You knew if you went for a promotion you’d probably have a good shot at it, but you were afraid to fail. Afraid to be bad at something. You knew your job like the back of your hand. You were good at it because you knew it so well. Your fear was what stopped you from taking a leap. From learning. From being out in the field. It was cowardly.

You were such a coward in fact that you had let this man walk all over you for so long, too afraid to question him and risk bringing down the fragile house of cards you’d built. Of course he didn’t respect you. How could he? You barely respected yourself.

There had been a moment though…When you questioned him about his soft treatment in the bathroom….how he held you…you could’ve sworn you saw a moment of weakness in his eyes. A hint of admission that you’d hit a nerve. That maybe it did all mean something.

But you couldn’t think like that anymore.

You needed to stop obsessing over every detail in an attempt to find the words he wasn’t saying. Stop fruitlessly trying prove to yourself that he cared about you. It was all so clear now. He didn’t. He never did.

As much as your heart ached, the revelation was freeing. You had your answer. It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but now you knew. You could draw a line under all of this and move on. Maybe, in time, find someone who would be proud to have you on their arm.

You smiled, the glimmer of optimism lifting you from your funk. In a strange way, Nick had given you a new lease of life. You would prove him wrong. Prove him wrong about all of it.

It was nearly 6am when you admitted defeat and accepted you weren’t going back to sleep. You normally didn’t get up til gone 7, but you decided to start your day. You had two choices: mope into your laptop and try to keep a low profile to avoid Nick, or walk into work with your head held high and prove he hadn’t broken you.

You chose the latter.

And…it wouldn’t hurt to show him what he was missing, would it?

First order of business - remove temptation. You deleted Nick’s messages from your phone. Deleted your call log with him. Blocked his number and deleted his contact. It wasn’t like he messaged you much anyway, but this way you avoided any urge to text him - and couldn’t be swayed if he tried to get back in touch (unlikely, but good to be sure). It felt a little sad to remove them, especially the easy back and forth of your banter in the early days. The little jokes. His compliments. All sent to the digital graveyard in the sky. You sighed. A good first step.

After showering, eating breakfast and firing off a few explanatory texts to Annie, you opened your closet to find something to wear to work. You flicked through your endless work blouses and pants, all perfectly fine, but you wore them everyday on rotation. Beige. Some were a bit too big, some a bit too bland. Your non-work clothes were too casual…you didn’t really have anything else to wear except…

….oh yes. The pencil dress.

Annie had given it to you some time ago, suggesting you could wear it to the office. She worked in fashion so was always trying to pawn off garments she thought would work for you. You’d laughed it off at first, the dress was nice - a fitted black number, flattering, pretty but still formal. But you wouldn’t wear something like that - certainly not to work! You’d stuck in the back of your closet and planned to stick it on eBay, but never got around to it. You were grateful for your past laziness.

As you pulled the dress from the hanger your phone buzzed. You held your breath for a second wondering if it was him - but of course it wasn’t. He was blocked. And he wouldn’t be messaging anyway.

It was Annie. She was always up at the crack of dawn doing yoga or Pilates, so it was no surprise she’d got back to you so quickly.

What!! Ugh that ASSHOLE. Sweetie, I’m sorry - but you are better off without him. I’ve always known he wasn’t good enough for you. Well done for walking away. You deserve so much more. Drinks this week, first round on me ❤️ A

You smiled as your phone buzzed again. Annie had sent an addendum.

Also - wear that pencil dress to work today. No arguments. Look fabulous. Make him sweat.

❤️ A

You laughed out loud, it was the first time you’d felt a bit of joy since Nick left. She was your best friend for a reason. You pulled on the dress, carefully rolling it down your body and zipping it up.

You looked in the mirror, immediately feeling a little anxious. You looked…good. That you couldn’t deny. But could you really wear this to work? It wasn’t overly revealing, it fit the dress code, but it hugged your figure in a way your other work clothes never did. Was this really you?

No. It wasn’t. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe trying something not-you was a good idea.

Beige.

You inhaled deeply, your mind made up. You slipped on a pair of heels you rarely wore but kept for weddings and formal parties when you needed them. They were surprisingly comfortable, not painful stilettos you needed to hobble around in.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, surprised at how different you looked. But not hating it. Absolutely not.

You took a bit more time doing your hair and make-up than you would normally spend on work days. Once you finished, you surveyed your handiwork in the full length mirror. Not bad. Not bad at all. You felt a pang of confidence and you welcomed it gladly, a bright spot in the sea of your despair.

You snapped a selfie and sent it to Annie, who immediately fired back a series of flame and heart eye emojis. You chuckled.

It was now or never.

You felt sick as you walked to your desk, very aware of the additional attention you were receiving this morning. A few of your male colleagues said good morning, the ones who barely noticed you normally. You smiled weakly back in return, faintly angry that it took a tight dress to get them to show you some basic courtesy. Grant the security guy was polite at least.

A small wave of embarrassment hit as you sat down. Was everyone looking at you? Judging you? Did you look bad? Did they think you were trying too hard? God. This is why you preferred to blend into the background. Far less complicated.

But once you opened your laptop and started work, your nerves melted away. You threw yourself into your documents, tapping away at a report before comparing some photos of a potential target location. Busy was good. Busy meant your mind was occupied.

It was mid-morning when you got up to refill your coffee, the lack of sleep from last night finally catching up as your adrenaline began to wear off. You were just in the break room filling up your mug when you heard a chatter of voices enter the room.

Nick strolled in discussing a shipment of some kind with Director Walsh. You froze, feeling that nauseous feeling return as you noticed him, your heart pounding in your chest. Your body on fire.

He looked over at you for a moment before looking back at Walsh, but his eyes did a double take and he glanced back at you once more, a flash of surprise on his face before nodding in response to Walsh’s question.

You finished making your coffee as quickly as you could, desperate to get away and back to the safety of your desk.

Walsh’s cell rang and he sighed, excusing himself as he darted out of the room to take it. He was a good boss. A good leader. He was greying and slightly out of shape, but his presence still commanded everyone’s attention. You had always been in awe of him for that.

You waited for Nick to leave too, but you could feel his eyes on your back as you stirred your cup and picked it up to head back to your sanctuary.

“Nice dress” he finally said monotonously.

You turned, giving him a friendly nod as you tried not to look too deeply into those eyes of his. Not wanting to fall into them again.

“Thank-you, Agent Fowler”. You said politely.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh…we’re doing that, are we?”

You looked at him quizzically. “Sorry? Doing what?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know exactly what. Formalities. Do you think I’m dumb? You wear the same clothes here day in, day out, and now suddenly after last night you’re wearing that? Don’t insult my intelligence, princess” he spat.

You looked down at the dress, then back at Nick. You hadn’t really expected such a direct response to it. You weren’t sure how you managed to compose yourself but you pushed through, ignoring the thumping in your ears and how dry your mouth had suddenly become.

“I’m sorry I don’t know what you mean…” you said plainly.

He chuckled. “Look, how things went down was…” he paused to think “Unfortunate…but we can still be adults about this. We need to be civil, we both need to work together”.

You nodded.

“So don’t play games and wear tight outfits for my benefit” he said sharply.

You sighed mockingly as if he had said the silliest thing you’d ever heard.

“Agent Fowler, I think you’ll find this is a work appropriate item of clothing that fits the dress code guidance. If you have an issue with my attire, please raise it with HR. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to be getting on with”.

With that you left the room without looking back, a small smirk on your lips.

Despite your cool facade you were on the verge on a panic attack once you sat back at your desk. You hadn’t expected Nick to confront you quite so directly. Still…you couldn’t deny it felt good to rattle him a little. Normally you were the one doting on him, begging for any scraps of attention he gave you like a stray dog - and here you were now - giving him the ice queen treatment and leaving him standing by himself.

You hoped it would get easier to be around him. You weren’t cut out for this dicey game of oneupmanship. Even if it was incredibly satisfying when it paid off.

You managed to throw yourself back into your work, ignoring the occasional admiring glance from some of your male colleagues.

You were concentrating hard when Director Walsh walked by your desk, his deep voice surprising you out of your trance as he said your name.

He knew your name?

He knew your name.

Maybe Nick wasn’t right about everything.

“Yes, Sir?” You smiled, looking up and giving him your full attention.

“You finished that Phoenix report yet?” He asked.

You nodded. “All good to go, I just needed to tweak some of the coordinates”.

He smiled approvingly. “Good work. Can you drop a hard copy over to Fowler ASAP? He’s going to be leading that Op now”.

Fuck.

You smiled again. “Of course, I’ll get right on that Sir”.

He gave you a small nod before disappearing across the office floor.

You sighed. You should’ve been delighted to have such a positive interaction with Walsh. Normally he barely acknowledged your existence. But he knew your name! He said good work!! Of course it was all tainted by having to speak to Nick…

You sent the report to the printer and picked it up on the way to Nick’s office. Just get in and out. Ignore any pointed little comments, respond with professionalism like you had earlier.

As you approached you could see his door was ajar. That was a good sign. He always closed it when he was inside working. You checked your watch. Lunchtime. He most likely wasn’t there, probably on some long lunch with another agent like usual, so you could leave the report on his desk and sneak off before he returned. Perfect.

You padded up to the door, not bothering to knock as you strode in because you assumed it was empty - only to hear a woman’s laugh and a snippet of conversation as you came inside.

“So…when are you taking me out again?” The female voice said coyly as you stepped through.

It was too late to retreat. Nick was sitting at his desk and leaning on it in front of him was Mace, the brilliant and beautiful agent. Nick’s colleague. She was so close to him she was practically in his lap. Nick was wearing the smirk you knew all too well.

Mace was, by all accounts, a badass, and just happened to be movie star gorgeous too. Your stomach sank.

Take her out again?

They both turned to look at you, confused by your presence.

“Oh…I’m-I’m sorry” you muttered. “The door was open so I…I didn’t think anyone was…oh…”

Nick stared over at you, his face giving nothing away as always.

Take her out again? When did they go out before?

You blinked, realising you hadn’t finished your explanation. You quickly regained your cool despite the heat burning in your cheeks.

“Apologies, Agent Fowler…I wouldn’t have barged in if I’d known you were here. I have the Phoenix report for you- Director Walsh said you needed it”.

You handed the report to him and he accepted it, nodding.

“Thank-you” he said impassively.

“And apologies again for the intrusion” you added.

He waved a hand dismissively and you moved to leave.

“You look nice today” Mace chirped as you passed her, her red hair glowing in the sunlight from the window.

You turned to face her, conjuring up the most genuine smile you could. “Thanks…”

She smiled back and you stole a quick glance at Nick as you left. He was just staring, his expression impenetrable.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

It had been a few hours since the Mace incident and you’d been quietly spiralling at your desk ever since.

Ugh…you were dumb. Did you really think he was exclusively fucking you? Of course he’s been with other women - other women in the office even. And Mace is beautiful and talented and they travel together out on ops all the time - you were a fool for not figuring it out sooner.

Not only that, Mace was everything he said you weren’t. Established and respected in her career, at the top of her field, known by everyone in the CIA. She certainly wasn’t beige.

Here you were, playing stupid games in your stupid dress trying to provoke him while he was pursuing other women. How embarrassing.

You got your head down and continued to work for a bit longer until you realised you could smell a familiar cologne. You looked up to find Nick strolling to the desk behind you.

“Leigh” he said smugly.

Ugh. Agent Leigh. Hardly your favourite person. A frat boy who never grew up. Loud, brash, as subtle as a foghorn. You did your best to interact with him as little as possible. Fortunately the feeling seemed to be mutual as you were one of the few female staff members he didn’t try to corner at social events. He at least had the good sense to understand that you had no time for him.

“Fowler!” You heard him reply. He laughed his weaselly laugh and you suppressed an eye roll. “How’s life, my man?”

“Not bad, not bad” Nick responded. “Just seeing if you were available for drinks tonight - bit of a guy’s night, yknow”.

Leigh practically hollered. “Hell yeah, man! Where you thinkin’?”

“Ignite, downtown”,

“Sweet! Yes! Ignite has the hottest tail”.

You couldn’t suppress the eye roll this time.

Nick chuckled. “It does certainly attract a class of women who are easy on the eye”.

Pig. Asshole. Pig.

You knew he was doing this on purpose. Baiting you. Trying to get a reaction out of you after you bested him earlier. This was punishment.

“Exactly!” Laughed Leigh. “But you know me…I’m not fussy. If she’s got a pulse, I’m down”.

Grossgrossgross.

“Hey…Palmer, you coming?”

Leigh called over to Agent Palmer, who was sitting nearby and like you was unfortunate enough to bear witness to this scintillating conversation.

Palmer looked up and smiled weakly. “Not really my scene, I’ll pass”.

“It’ll be fun” Nick purred.

“Oh don’t be a pussy, man!” Leigh continued. “You need to get some ass, loosen up a little” he laughed.

You wrinkled your nose in disgust.

“Hey…c’mon man” Palmer said scoldingly. His gaze momentarily flickered over to you. “Don’t talk like that”.

“Oh…you worried about Miss Priss? Forget that hardass” Leigh laughed, referring to you.

You felt your head pound as you did your best to pretend you didn’t hear.

“Dude! Shut it!” Palmer said warningly. You could hear the anger in his voice. “Don’t be an asshole. That’s not cool”.

You looked at him, giving him a small, grateful smile. He smiled back sympathetically.

“He’s right, we’re at work” Nick interjected. “Let’s keep it to shop talk, okay?”

At least he’d shut it down. But you felt a pang of sadness that he hadn’t stood up for you like Palmer had.

Leigh exhaled. “Whatever, party poopers” he got up and headed towards the break room, giving Nick finger guns as he went. “See you at quitting time, Fowler. Hope your liver is ready for me”.

You could hear Palmer calling him a dick and asking if you were okay, but you felt far away - barely present.

You felt Nick lingering behind you but you couldn’t face turning around to look at him. You were flushed with embarrassment after Leigh’s comments. It was like you were back in high school and one of the popular kids was making fun of you. You tightly squeezed your mouse, pretending to be engrossed in your screen.

Beige. Beige. Hardass. Miss Priss.

No drive. No drive. No drive.

You glanced over to the window of Director Walsh’s office. He was sitting inside, squinting at his monitor. You knew he wasn’t busy. He always put in a 30 minute block in his calendar around this time, he claimed it was to catch up on emails and paperwork but you knew he mostly spent it bidding on eBay or reading sports news.

Now or never.

You had stood up before you fully realised what you were doing, striding over to Walsh’s office. The combination of Leigh’s assholery and humiliating truth about Nick and Mace ignited something in you that you couldn’t stop. You were fuelled by anger and disgust. Before you knew it you were knocking on his door.

“Sir? Do you have 5 minutes?” You asked cheerily, hoping he couldn’t see how upset you were.

Walsh looked up, clearly surprised to see you but gestured for you to take a seat.

You sat, then cleared your throat.

“What can I do for you?” He asked gruffly.

You swallowed. “Well, Sir, I’ve been here for five years now. In that time I’ve established myself as an essential team member - my briefing reports are thorough and meticulous, I always meet my deadlines. The agents know that whatever work they give me, it’ll be done quickly and to a high standard. Just ask any of them…”

He peered thoughtfully at you.

You cleared your throat again, trying to keep your nerves at bay.

“…and you see, I think, uh, well I know I’ve got even more to offer. I’ve got a keen eye for detail and a passion to learn. I’m ready for the next step. Not just do everybody’s background work. So…sir…I’d like to be…well, assigned to an op directly. To work alongside an agent on the strategy and planning. I…I just want a chance to prove I can, sir”.

You stammered slightly at the end, but sat up straight and clasped your shaking hands together in an attempt to appear calm and collected.

Walsh studied you, moving a finger to his lip as he considered your proposal. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.

“Okay”.

Your face brightened. “Okay? Really?”

He nodded. “You’re right. You’ve proven you’re competent. You deserve a shot”.

You grinned in return, trying to appear professional but unable to mask your glee.

“Thank you! Thank-you sir…I won’t let you down. I promise”.

He nodded again before walking to the door and calling out to the office floor.

“Palmer? A minute please”.

Palmer appeared seconds later, the curiosity evident on his face as he saw you sitting there.

Walsh sat down behind his desk and pointed between the both of you.

“The two of you are going to be working on Project Cotton together. Effective immediately. Palmer - She’ll be your number two - working with you on the strategy and logistics to prepare for you going out in the field. We’ll be taking her off her normal duties for a few weeks so please see to it that her other work is re-assigned amongst the other assistants”.

Palmer nodded. “Yes, sir”.

“Fowler will be out on Project Phoenix for a few weeks from tomorrow so I need you to lead on this” Walsh added. “It’s priority number one”.

“Absolutely, Sir. Understood”.

A new work opportunity. A chance to prove yourself and defy everyone’s impressions of you. Nick. Leigh. Walsh. Yourself. And no Nick hanging around to distract you. Distance and time to get over him.

It was almost too good to be true.

You beamed at Palmer. He smiled back.

“Looking forward to working with you” he said.

“Thank-you, Agent Palmer. The feeling is mutual”.

Chapter Four - The Ghost

#nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler #the 355 #sebastian stan #under the radar fic

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miraculouslyfine · 11 months

Text

spiderwebs and dust

Summary: Miles and Y/n have had a long couple of weeks. Like all couples, they need some alone time with each other. A date is long awaited, but, will it go as planned?

(word count: 2k :])

They've been exchanging messages all night, deciding on tomorrow's plans. Both of them were extremely tired, though no one wanted to say goodbye that early into the night. This was the first time after a while that both of them could relax and enjoy each other's company, even if they weren't physically together.

The past few weeks have been tough on them. The teachers at Brooklyn Visions Academy have been giving out so much homework, making every single student anxious. All it took was some "sloppy work” and some missing assignments and they'd be done for.

Aside from the pile of schoolwork, Miles had other things to worry about as well. There seemed to be an epidemic of rising criminal activity in New York and there is only so much the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man can do.

Of course, it was nothing he couldn’t handle; most of the time they were hardly just some villains of the week. However, this lifestyle was tiring him out. All he wanted to do was spend time doing the things he loves with the person he loves the most, Y/n.

This turned out to be quite the challenge as spidey duties don't exactly have stable hours.

He loved doing this, helping New York's citizens, making his dad's job a tad easier-even if he didn't necessarily appreciate Spider-Man's "help” (he'd come around eventually)-, being idolized by the smaller kids (sometimes the adults too), etc., etc. Most of all, he was thankful he could make sure the people closest to his heart were safe. Being Spider-Man had its perks.

Being Spider-Man had some disadvantages as well. Having to sneak out every day, lie to his parents and girlfriend about his whereabouts, miss important days/special occasions, run late on dates-if he even managed to show up in the first place- and many more.

He just needed a break, some time to relax. To forget about his responsibilities and enjoy life with her.

Oh, how he loves it when it's just the two of them. Not a single thing on his mind, except from her. Everything is so blissful and calm, almost magical. It’s just him and his girl in his arms... until some rando decides he wants to become Spider-Man's archenemy (he really hates those guys; so pretentious and full of themselves. Most of the time they’re not even half decent at being bad).

He knew this wasn't fair to her. His parents usually attributed his "concerning” behavior to adolescence and whatnot. “It's fine, he'll grow out of it” they usually tell each other and try not to worry too much about their son’s well-being.

But with Y/n, things were...different. He knows the excuses he gives her are lame. Like, seriously lame. Sometimes, he'll even disappear without giving her a single explanation. That's messed up and he knows it. Hell, he'd break up with himself.

There is not a single thing in the entire world he wants more than to come clean and tell her the truth about everything. About his sneaking out, about the injuries that he attains from fighting bad guys, not from his furniture because he's clumsy, that he doesn't enjoy leaving her, everything. Okay maybe he'd love to start a band, but that’s beside the point-he had an interesting dream once-.

But he can't. He knows he shouldn't. That's how every superhero movie goes: the hero reveals their identity to their loved one, bad guys somehow get hold of this information, they kidnap said loved one, the superhero turns up to save them, something goes terribly wrong and the loved one either gets injured bad or worse...

He doesn't even want to think about it.

And now that more and more villains get their hands on some really advanced technology, which makes the fights all the more challenging, Miles doesn't want to risk it. He needs her to be safe and he'll do everything in his power to ensure that nothing bad happens to her, ever. And that's a promise he is not willing to break.

- You sure you'll be able to make it? I don't wanna be there on my own :/

- when have I ever stood you up?

-Do you really want to start this conversation :/?

- ...not really...no </3

-nah I promise you i'll be there and we'll have a great time too

-Sureee.. I believe you

- good😃

- Anyways,,,, I think i'll go now

-If I stay some more I'll definitely sleep thru it

- Goodnight :]

-goodnight cat-lady

-You have to drop that nickname

-never😤

- I love you Miles

-I love you Y/n

-sweet dreams

The smile on his face quickly faded as he put his phone down. And just like that, Miles is left alone with his thoughts once more. Tired of twisting and turning in his bed, he decides to put on some music to block out the thoughts that are racing through his head and help him relax. He eventually falls asleep.

----

He's supposed to meet her at 5 p.m. outside her house. Thankfully, there was no sight of any villain and even if there was, he'd have to leave it to the officers. Today was about her and her alone. No superhero stuff for the day.

He was by her house fifteen minutes early, just in case. He really didn't want to mess it up. He had everything planned. They'd do all of her favorite activities, visit all her favorite spots, eat all her favorite foods. Everything would be perfect.

And of course, it started raining.

For a split second, Miles thought about throwing himself off the Brooklyn Tower but ultimately chose against it. And thank God for that, or else he would have missed all these amazing experiences with his favorite person.

The minute they stepped outside it began raining cats and dogs but not for a single second did they think to get back.

They started running toward potential shelters. They were soaked but they were having a blast. There wasn't a moment their laughter couldn't be heard. They went inside every single store that permitted them entry, given their clothes were dripping all over the place.

After all that window shopping, they decided to go eat at the cheapest diner possible and share the fries as they always do. They were having the time of their life. They realized just how much they missed the person across them.

The people surrounding them also took notice. It was so evident how much in love the two of them are. Only a blind person could miss the loving way they looked at each other, smiling and laughing at the dumbest things, their foreheads and noses bumping and their lips occasionally meeting and them melting into the kiss.

----

The hours passed quicker than they realized. It was almost midnight, and they were at their final stop for today, the terrace of Y/n's apartment building.

It was a quite romantic night. The building was pretty tall, so they had a nice view of the city. It was fairly quiet too, especially for a busy neighborhood like theirs. Everything was perfect. They had the person they loved most in their arms, and nothing could ruin this moment. It was almost too perfect.

After seeming in deep thought, Miles finally breaks the comforting silence by taking a deep breath.

“Y/n...I have to tell you something” he says, an expression of seriousness suddenly taking over his previously content face. He had thought about it thoroughly, he had weighed his options and had come to a conclusion; this was what was best.

She looked at him, completely puzzled and clueless as to what caused the unexpected change of tone. A look of worry washed over her features as she adjusted her position so she could properly look at him.

“Is everything okay? Has something happened?” Her mind was racing, coming up with thousand scenarios as to what he was about to tell her.

“Yeah, no everything's fine. It’s just... I've been thinking and uhm...You know what? I'll just get it over with” He takes a deep breath once again.

“What is it, Miles? You're kinda scaring me-”

“We should break up”

Well, she definitely did not expect that. A wave of shock rushes through her body. After a moment of silence, she burst into laughter.

“Fuck, man you almost got me” she says between laughs, as she tried to compose herself. “You've gotten really good at this” She looked up at him, smiling, fully expecting him to be bent over, laughing at her shocked face, mimicking and making fun of her like he always does.

The sight she was met with was not the one she was expecting and hoped for at all.

He didn't try to meet her eyes; apparently, the spiderweb and some dust that no one had the courtesy to clean were of much more importance; he was looking at everything but her.

“Miles? Cut it out, it's not funny anymore” Her eyes were frantically moving, trying to catch his gaze. She was desperately trying to get him to give her any attention, or some sort of explanation. She was convinced this was just one of Miles’ many uncalled-for jokes, one that he took too far for her liking.

A minute had passed but to them, it felt like they had been stuck in that position for an eternity. No one was moving or talking, and it seemed like they were holding their breaths for what felt like hours.

“...Miles?” her eyes were glossy at this point; tears were threatening to spill.

His eyes finally met her own. Seeing her like that broke him, he could swear he felt his heart shutter right then and there. *How can she be this pretty even when crying? This is going to be a lot harder than I thought*

He thought about dropping the matter. He could pretend this was actually a joke. She'd probably slap him and run straight into his arms saying that that he's an asshole and that she hates him *No, you don't, he'd say kissing her hair*No, I don't, she'd repeat defeated, I love you*.

But that's not how it went.

“MILES” she exclaimed angrily “TALK TO ME DAMN IT” She was hysterical, yelling, crying, begging him to say something, to say anything, to acknowledge her.

“Y/n...” his voice breaks at the sound of her name leaving his lips *What am I doing? *

He says her name once more just to make sure she's listening to him. This time it's slow but steady as if he was afraid that saying it any louder would break her. He was trying not to make things worse.

He quickly collected himself and if he had any doubts about how the girl across him felt, well, after this, there wasn't any uncertainty. She was devastated and it was all thanks to him. HE made her feel like this, it was all his fault.

The look on her face made him wish he could take everything back, for all of this to never had happened. But it was too late for that.

“I mean it. We're done. It's for the best”

#miles molares #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales imagine #y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman x reader angst #spiderman x y/n #spiderman #spiderverse x you #spiderverse x reader #marvel #marvel x y/n #into the spider verse #across the spider-verse spoilers #x reader

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heres-to-all-that-is-mine · 7 months

Text

Considering the votes were a unanimous yes heeere we go here’s One of my little story concepts I’ve been rotating passively in my head (as put together by copy-pasting several paragraphs worth of my rambling and a few additional or summarised sections);

Podcast pitch for you! A radio show host gets accidentally shunted into an alternate reality which appears to be an exact replica of the “real world”, except there’s no people in it (and things are a little more… dream-like, abstract, strange and supernatural perhaps)

However, the radio show connects them to the real world - people can call in, and they can still broadcast, but most of their time is spent trying to survive and make sense of their new life, not to mention trying to figure out how and why this happened, and how to get back

Wouldn’t it be fucked up if, in a season finale, they make it back to the real world… only to find it wasn’t the *right* world?

Unsure of how it would be “wrong” - perhaps some important person is missing and nobody knows what they’re talking about, or something is fundamentally *different* about the world

Or perhaps it’s an instance of the classic “being in the wrong dimension is making me sick/glitch out/other fucked up symptom”

Perhaps they never existed in this new world. Mm. Either way they’re not making it out of this situation entirely human. Whether figuratively or not,,, up for debate

(Above paragraph provided by my dear friend Raz who enables me)

Ha wouldn’t it be fucked up if their world never existed. They simply spawned into reality spontaneously at the moment that “shunted them into a parallel dimension”

Or perhaps their existence destabilised their dimension causing everyone to disappear rather than them disappearing from the world

I shall have to puzzle over it….. Was thinking of perhaps nightvale in terms of the strangeness of the “empty” world but that’s a bit much

Mayhaps,

Perhaps they’re wondering if the things they’re seeing are *real* or simply some kind of isolation induced hallucination

I can think of several sad or bittersweet endings for the guy but I do also wanna come up with some nicer ones……

For the former, for example - whatever caused them to pop into existence was only temporary, and time and space corrects itself and smooths out the wrinkle of their existence, causing them to cease to exist. Or perhaps they could choose to end the pocket dimension themself, snipping it off of the “real” world for whatever reason

To elaborate on my thoughts up there;

Season One Storyline;

Radio Show Host (let’s call them Cam as a temporary name) kicks up the broadcast, only for some sort of event to occur - they dismiss it as weird, but harmless, considering it only lasts a few seconds and nothing’s really gone wrong as far as they can tell.

The episode goes as it should pretty much; they take calls from listeners, talk about whatever the show is meant to be about, just Regular Radio Broadcast.

However, things go sideways when they step out of the room to find that there’s absolutely nobody else in the building. Maybe during a commercial/song break? Idk. Either way they come back unsettled and the episode ends on something of a strange, sour note.

Things kick into gear by episode two with them returning panicked, rambling about how everyone is gone and they’re all alone. In the whole town, and nobody they know outside the town is answering their messages. Listeners call in, confused, because they live in the town and everyone is still there, which does not help with Cam’s panicking.

From then on things devolve into some sort of chaos as strange things happen around town with Cam, while listeners remain confused if this is some sort of prank or interactive story or whatever.

Blah blah, somehow Cam manages to “get back to the real world” by the season finale, and things seem fine!

Season two!

This one is perhaps told through a different medium? Cam might be recording their own podcast or something like that, rather than a radio broadcast - unsure, might stick to broadcast. Either way it takes place a while after their “escape” but not too long, and they’ve noticed that people have no idea who they are. There’s no record of their existence, not even the few people they did know seem to recognise them, and they’re stuck staying at a motel or something because their residence isn’t under their name as it should be.

They come to the conclusion that this isn’t their universe, and they’re starting to feel off.

Season ends with them going to another dimension - perhaps back to the one they were in originally? - having come to the conclusion that rather than something transporting them to an empty dimension as they’d thought originally, it might instead have been that something did indeed happen to the people in their universe. Something they might be able to undo.

Season three?

I’m not sure what to put down for season three here but essentially, in this season, they come to the slow realisation that there’s something wrong with their home dimension - and themself, by extension.

Turns out, that event that kicked off the whole story? That was the event that created them. That was the moment they came into existence. Everything before that was just the world changing itself to retroactively exist, or at least fill in the gaps of Cam’s memory.

That’s like, all I’ve got. :)

#purples rambling #I don’t really have a name for it #feel free to suggest one?#uhh maybe I’ll make a tag for these things. hmm.#story scribbles!#sure that’ll do

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lifeontop · 1 year

Text

just one more day

idk it's just an idea. Nat leaves after Y/N hurts her.

One day. It’s been one entire day since you last heard her laugh. Since you last saw her smile, although hesitantly. Since you last felt her love coat your entire being.

You spent the night with your eyes closed, hanging on to better times. As the light filters through the blinds you didn’t close, your mind is robbed of its peacefulness and forcefully ripped back to reality.

This is one more day of hell. One more day of drowning in the shame of having hurt and disappointed the person you love most. 24 hours to miss her laugh and patience. 1140 minutes to see her features fade in your mind’s eye. You never thought that could happen. 864’000 seconds to drown in tears as the hurt in her eyes tears your heart apart. Just as many seconds to feel the last remains of hope drain out of your life.

One day turns into a week. Pretending to be okay has never been harder. Does nobody realize that the once bright and beautiful is now dull, gray, lifeless. People laugh, live, age as if nothing ever happened. You know better. You cannot remember what life was like before her and you have quickly learned that it is simply not worth living for.

One week, two week, three weeks. She is better off without you. You are only capable of hurting her, she deserves better. She deserves the entire universe. You are anything but that. You know she is not coming back. Numbness spreads through your limbs, willing them to forget how holding her in your arms felt. You will never feel that safe and unconditionnally loved again. She gave you her world and you burned it down. That’s on you, there is nobody else to blame.

A month. The pictures are still living in your phone. Looking at them is bittersweet. They breathe life into your hollow form and somehow fill you with hate towards yourself. Is that possible at the same time? You don’t know, but apparently it is.

Two months. The messages she left in your phone are the biggest treasure you have. On the days you feel like giving up you scroll through them, reminding yourself that you once promised her to take care of yourself, to live. You will not break another promise. You force yourself to keep going, to wake up every morning to another day without her.

A year. You would recognize that laugh anywhere. Your entire body tenses despite your mind’s protest. Your eyes automatically dart to the person who emitted that beautiful sound. A grin appears on your face. Your hand raises, your fingertips brushing against your lips to check on the weird occurrence. You take her in. She looks different. The once dark brown hair is now an auburn color, the colored contacts gone, but it’s definitely her. It’s different, but she looks as stunning as she ever did. Your vision seems fuzzy around her. As if your eyes were not meant to see the world but only her.

One breath. Two breaths. She is laughing, her arms wrapped around someone. Three breaths. She looks happy. Scratch that, she is happy. You know it. Even after all this time, your brain sees through all her shields and protective wards. Under them, she is glowing. Much like she did with you once. Four breaths. Your legs carry you away from her. Five breaths. She is happy. That’s all you ever wanted for her. The fire that you exstinguished is burning bright in her again. It’s your turn to let her breathe oxygen into it. You can not suffocate her a second time. Six breaths. Your feet hit the pavement again and again, leaving her behind. Seven breaths. The breath catches in your throat, you stumble, hands heavy on your knees. Eight breaths. She is happy. She is happy without you. Nine breaths. Searing pain shoots through your heart, shattering it for a final time. Ten breaths. Eleven breaths. Please treat her well. Never extinguish her. Never hurt her like I did. Show her how loved she is, and make sure she never forgets. One final breath. Twelve months without her. One promise that you managed to keep. A lifetime to go to keep that promise. And it’s one that you will never break. You broke her trust, but that will never happen again. Even if she will never know. You will keep going, you will try and take care of yourself to the best of your abilities. She will never be hurt because of you again.

You owe her that.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #nat x reader #nat x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x you #marvel imagine #idkk

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sleepingdeath-light · 10 months

Text

yandere hcs ; black lemonade cookie

requested by ; anonymous (16/07/23), anonymous (21/07/23)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; black lemonade cookie

outline ; “yandere black lemonade, ik ur not writing for her until she comes out but i love her so”

“yandere black lemonade?”

warning(s) ; obsessive behaviour, yandere!black lemonade, stalking (online and in person), guilt tripping, worshipping

for black lemonade cookie you are more than just her partner: you’re the centre of her world, her muse, her obsession, her blessing, her bias — you’re everything and more, an angel born down on this earth just to make her life worth living and she treats you accordingly

she dedicates every song, every album, every performance and interview and post to you — always talking about her ‘awesome partner back home’ and making her fans and onlookers awe at how loving of a spouse she must be, how ‘goals’ and ‘otp’ your relationship is and how much they want a partner who is as ‘devoted’ and ‘so totally into them’ as she is to you

there are entire fan communities dedicated to the two of you: fanfic, fan art, fan edits and accounts dedicated to posting updates on you both (where you were last seen, any posts/mentions that have been made to you by black lemonade cookie, etc.) — it’s so expansive and large that it’s honestly hard to keep track of

but she manages somehow, always keeping on top of the latest trends and seeming to always have a tab open on her phone displaying some fan content of you (usually something less than sfw) because she’s just as obsessed as those fans — she’s just a bit better at hiding it

she keeps tabs on you wherever you go, and she’s been doing it since before she got the confidence to actually approach you — with her constantly refreshing your social media when she’s away on tour or, if she’s in the area, always miraculously showing up wherever you are and joining in on whatever you were doing (errands, shopping, leisure, etc.)

she’s quick to get jealous but she never takes it out on you — always going to extremes to embarrass and intimidate the hell out of whoever was getting too close for her liking (especially if it’s at one of her gigs when she’ll stop what she’s doing to point out the offending party and mock them in front of her crowd of fans, who, of course, will all join in)

she does feel like she doesn’t deserve you — well, really it’s the idea that you’re so good that nobody deserves you rather than just her — and that makes her that much more terrified of losing you, which in turn makes her default to using a lot of manipulation and guilt tripping to keep you locked down in your relationship (it also contributes to her stalking you)

like she’s forever messaging you to ask you if you love her and refuses to leave your home until you’ve kissed her — she thrives off of your affection and attention, really, and she’ll use whatever tactics she can in order to get what she wants from you

if you spend time with anyone else then she’ll start off by constantly texting and calling you because she misses you, then she’ll move on to stalking you through the cameras, and then she’ll feign some sort of injury or mishap during practise which would force you to come home and take care of her — she really doesn’t like sharing your attention with people

definitely tries her best to separate you from your loved ones to make you more reliant on her at first, but if that fails then she’ll integrate herself so perfectly with your family that you’ll feel too entangled and guilty to ever leave her — either way her goal of making you attached to her is achieved so she’s happy

she’d never take a life, she’s not that type of girl, but she’s not afraid to ruin a life — especially if she has shining glitter and rockstar cookie on her side (a little white lie never hurt, and they’d never doubt their new friend after all), which makes the process a whole lot smoother

but that’s only a last resort if someone keeps on taking your attention away from her and can’t get the hint that you’re taken — you’re hers — and they need to be properly dealt with as a result

with all that being said, for as obvious as they seem when written out black lemonade is excellent at keeping all of these things on the down low and playing them off as much more innocent than they are (it’s down to her chilled out demeanour, mostly) so you’re unlikely to notice anything different about her as a yandere compared to how she acts in a normal relationship — well, not until it’s far too late to leave anyway

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #yandere hcs #yandere x reader #yandere crk x reader #yandere crk #yandere cookie run x reader #yandere cookie run #yandere black lemonade cookie #yandere black lemonade cookie x reader #black lemonade cookie x reader

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flhoarder · 10 months

Note

Calling you JV the way you say 'don't make me seem like a Lana fan' and then give him *Fishtail* instead of a more popular one <3

(which if anything in this hypothetical modern day billboard 100 AU is possibly even more incriminating than him doing Young and Beautiful or something he can just blame as a random earworm from the radio because they kept playing it)

Also potentially cursed version of that ask, new karaoke place, but they (if you want to do the rest of 41st as well go ahead) only have the top 10 pop singles from like 2000s onwards. What songs are they singing (or forcing themselves to sing). Who demostrates their Lady Gaga knowledge, pulls out some quickly forgotten 2005 hit, or reveals apparently the only popular songs they know are Gangnam style and Pineapple pen of all things ect.

NONO I CAN EXPLAIN

...Okay, Norman and Ocean Blvd are pretty cool. And possibly Chemtrail. Possibly. And Lust for Life. IM NOT A FAN

Aha it is cursed and I like this a lot, upon first glance it's embarrassing how many of these songs I can still sing along to

...Alright then, 41 C wing (supposedly and mostly, anyway) karaoke. A handful of people agreed to go. Pryce is paying. They left the station all at the same time but somehow some of them are still late.

Sorted by the order of their arrival time:

McCoy: First one to arrive because he has discipline and he makes his partner do a song with him. Threatens to do WAP but no one is surprised by the choice of song coming from fuckboy McCoy, which discourages him. He ends up doing Circus by Britney Spears and Starboy by The Weekend instead. One is a feel-good confidence boost for him, the other is just straight up truth. He is a motherfucking starboy with the highest body count in the whole building. Competition? He don't pay attention.

Vicquemare: Doesn't want to come but knows Harry's going to be here so he's here too. Annoyed that McCoy's on time but Harry isn't, even more annoyed to see McCoy doing a song with his partner. Goes on to get out a few dry lines from Show me the meaning of being lonely in the name of soundcheck before the second group come in. He's got the right vibes for the song, but he waits until Harry gets here and goes on to do Without me by Halsy, the entire time not breaking eye contact with Harry. It’s probably the most downbeat and grim version of the song anyone has ever done in history. He also doesn't hit half of the notes even after dropping 5 octaves from the original vocal but its the message that counts. The only people who don't find this unnerving are Harry and Ptolemy Pryce. Actually it’s so uncomfortable that no one even brings up the question as to how he even knows about the song, they are just happy to see him pass the mic.

Minot: Arrives with Jean. She's not against coming here but it's not one of her top 3 places to be. Thinks its a good idea to get the song out before the second group show up. Puts out a few solid lines from Formation by Beyonce before calling it good. Jean is the only one who's not surprised by how much she rocks the song and how well it works with her voice. She slays.

Kitsuragi: That's right, he's here because Harry literally called up 57 every other day for a whole week just to ask him to come. He finally caved on the 7th day and said yes to that. Does Maps by Maroon 5 and before anyone is shocked, he explains that he doesn't dedicate songs but if he had to this would be dedicated to his partner. Jean rocks back in his seat when he hears that but an insider tells him just in time that Kim is referring to his previous partner at 57. Kim drops 3 octaves from the original vocal and manages to make the song sound mournful with a hint of wistful longing. There's not a dry eye in the audience when he's done, and he knows it. (RIP, Eyes. You are missed.)

Pidieu (Jules:) Was planning on doing This I promise you by NSYNC because he's heard it way too much when he used to drive Apricot to school. Last minute changes to I want it that way by Backstreet boys, a song he's also heard way too much during that time. The reason for the change is because Apricot told him that young people nowadays actually still liked that song. Turns out she’s right and the song becomes a group effort as soon as Jules hits the *my fire* line.

Pidieu (Apricot:) New Rules by Dua Lipa, some of the boys are curious as to why she cuts into this song like nobody's business, a brave one almost jokingly requests Hips don't lie, but one look from her shuts them all up. Not everyone can handle Pryce's business like she does, and it certainly shows.

Torson: Alejandro by Lady Gaga. He says he's doing it for a joke and makes a really bad attempt at the accent, but after passing the first two lines he gets really serious about it, at the end it almost makes him choke up. He actually really likes the song, it makes him feel some kinda way. He's not afraid to admit it, there are two women that no one can make fun of in front of Mack Torson, one of them is his mum, the other one is Lady Gaga.

McLaine: Super Bass by Nicki Minaj. Somebody tell them who the fuck he IS. Its a good attempt and he gets Mack to join in on the chorus to give the song a boost. A for effort and the energy is off the fucking roof, even though he doesn't hit many notes.

Heidelstam: Is late because he had to drop Mikael off home and make dinner first. Gets on the stage and whips out Positions by Ariana Grande. He heard this song on the radio and liked the tune, played it a lot on his commute even though he couldn't make out most of the words in the song except something about kitchen and bedroom which he felt spoke to the depth of his soul. After a while he finally looked the lyrics up, it didn't change his opinion, but he doesn't play it when Mikael is in the car anymore. Anyway, he kills the song, even though there's mumbling in between where it gets a bit more explicit. Gotta appreciate a dad's attempt, though. He also benefits from having a relatively higher pitch in his voice comparing to the rest of 41.

Du Bois: When Harry gets here he's already got a bottle of red down. Crawls up the stage to sing Perfect by Ed Sheeran, dedicating the song to EVERYONE in the audience. Jean is very snarky about it but becomes visibly less annoyed after Harry mentions his name on the list of people he likes during his drunk chat on the mic. Kim doesn't comment on it, but he thinks Harry does the song solid.

Gottlieb: Shows up close to the end, off his face drunk. Chooses Swimming Pools (Drank) by Kendrick Lamar to sing. Even at his drunkest he knows his voice and knows exactly how to use it. For most people it's a tough song to do, and not many can get the song exactly right, but he does. It's not like he's going to remember this tomorrow morning, but he woos the crowd tonight.

Pryce: Oh yes. Did you think he was going to miss out on this? Sadly he has to go because Captain duties. The song he put in the queue earlier on was We R who we R by Kesha. It's not clear whether he intended to sing or just queueing it up for when the timer ran out. Don't ask.

#de au #I had fun doing this #im totally dating myself as well #Thanks for asking #disco elysium #de #ptolemy pryce #nix gottlieb #harry du bois #chester mclaine #mack torson #apricot pidieu #jules pidieu #trant heidelstam #kim kitsuragi #jean vicquemare #john mccoy #dragonfly789 #ask

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dairy-farmer · 2 years

Note

Love the scenario of a batfam who is creepily obsessed with Tim who is completely and entirely oblivious. He is too stressed and exhausted to notice any of it. He has a mission to complete.

When dick fired him from robin? The whole time dick is implying that Tim shouldn’t be robin, he should just stay there with them and be protected— (with a side of jealousy, I’m glad Bruce is dead because now you’re mine, don’t you dare bring him back)

And Tim just interprets it entirely the same as canon.

The Bats are antagonistic in the way of canon, but it all seems oddly centered towards trying to cripple Tim, not kill him, so they can pull him off duty. Tim, of course, views these as assasination attempts. When Bruce is condescending, it’s in a ‘you silly little pretty thing, just listen to your daddy’ way, but Tim just interprets it as needing to be better at robin. (Whereas Bruce is pulling every trick in the book to try to get him to stop being robin and just be his son. And live with him. And sleep in his bed. And so on.)

Dick is incredibly handsy while Tim is at the batcomputer?? Tim thinks that’s just dick.

One of them nearly sticks a needle in his neck? He dodges out of the way and asks them to be more careful when carrying lab supplies.

Damian leaves a soft, custom collar on his dresser and a bunch of dog toys. Tim thinks it’s some sort of psychological warfare intended to make him crack. The dog collar is a genuine gift, in its own way, and those *aren’t* dog toys, Tim.

Dick is furious when Tim goes awol for a month? He doesn’t pick up on the “don’t you dare leave me or I’ll drag you back here no matter who I have to hurt” heart of the message

Just somewhere between Yandere!ish bats and completely oblivious Tim who interprets it as canon as a severely unreliable narrator is hilarious to me.

Bonus points for when he finally brings back Bruce and Bruce is like.....how have you guys not managed to keep him yet.

STOP this is hilarious 😭😭😭😭!!!!!!! tim just misinterpreting everything because his brain has just been automatically wired for rejection. he doesn't even see the way they look at him or how their hands are possessive when they touch him. tim always thought they disapproved of his friends and the time he spent with young justice given how much they'd insist that tim stay home or return home and be generally unhappy when he was away.

the bats being incredibly possessive and VERY unsubtly to anyone watching only tim doesn't see it!!! like the gotham media dubs tim is their shared boy or heavily implies that bruce is fucking his 'adopted' son and only tim stares at the articles like "😦 damn vale's rent must be due soon because she is desperate". and bruce, after just returning from the horror of being lost in time his only thought and reaction is disbelief combined with disapproval that somehow they've manged to alienate tim even more. even with bruce out of the ring and they knew that bruce had a pretty heavy possessiveness streak with tim.

them being so into tim and creeping on him because of it but he's so focused on his job that he doesn't even notice all the weird 'creeper' stuff they do. like how tim's underwear goes missing very frequently. how he never gets a second date because no one ever calls him up again. how people who grope him at galas or make gross remarks about his looks or body show up the next time avoiding his eyes and having some sort of broken limb.

tim being just so focused on his job and assuming everyone is the same as him so he doesn't even consider how else their actions may be interpreted because its just so far out of the realm of possibility for him 😭😭😭😭!

#anonymous #asks #answered asks

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chickensarentcheap · 1 year

Text

Lost and Found - Chapter 9

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. Although you do not need to read the others to understand this one)

THIS CHAPTER IS A JOHN WICK CROSSOVER :D

Warnings: angst

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @thesirenrealm @residentdormouse @asirensrage @munstysmind @muchadoaboutcj @starryeyes2000 @karimac @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @themaradaniels

My tag list is OPEN. Just give me a shout if you’d like to added :)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/116371852

******

Despite both intense mental and physical fatigue, all attempts at sleep fail. After tossing and turning for nearly two hours, he’d contemplated contacting Delaney; knowing he had to ‘pull up his big boy pants’ and read and listen to the barrage of text messages and voicemails she’d left in just the last three hours alone. He’s the only one to blame for his current state of misery; solely responsible for Delaney’s unhinged -yet not unprovoked- behaviour. He hadn’t not even bothered to make physical contact before leaving Australia; instead stopping at her work and tucking a hastily written note under one of her car’s windshield wipers. It had been short and simple; he had to go out of town to tend to some personal business and should be back in a few days, and he’d contact her if it was going to be any longer than that.

He had hoped both the physical and emotional distance would be enough; either to keep her from incessantly trying to get ahold of him or piss her off to the point she cut ties with him completely. Yet neither has happened judging by the messages from worried to irate; beginning calmly and then escalating quickly with each missed call. A buffet of every emotion available to a human being; expressing her increasing worry for both his mental health and their obviously fragile relationship and begging and pleading for him to call her back. The latter soon transformed into pure despair; sobbing as she confessed her love for him and sorrowfully wondering why she wasn’t ‘enough’ and then cursing and swearing and calling him a coward for ‘running away’ instead of facing their issues.

It isn’t the first time he’s been guilty of the latter; his inability to support his wife through their only child’s illness and his fear of seeing his son suffer and pass away had destroyed both his marriage and his entire life. Infamous for his physical bravery but emotional cowardice, he’d put in the effort to change while with Esme; stepping completely out of his comfort zone and learning to not only be more open and honest about his feelings, but how to eradicate the disgust and shame that always accompanied showing even a flicker of emotion. He no longer wanted to be the guy that ran when the going got tough; instead trying to be the kind of partner that she needed, wanted, and deserved. And with her unwavering support and seemingly infinite patience, he’d begun to turn his life around; beginning with dealing with the mountains of baggage that had been weighing him down for years. Tearing through the layers of both physical and mental trauma and willingly checking into rehab and submitting to therapy; wading through a cesspool of toxic masculinity and anger issues and somehow managing to cut the once ironclad ties to the booze and the pain meds. For the first time since his son died, he’d found himself clean and sober. And genuinely happy. Content within that little bubble of domesticity that he and Esme had created. Both optimistic about their future together.

And then she’d left. Completing what all of the bullets and bloodshed never could. Destroying him completely.

He’s found something constantly tempted to challenge his sobriety; briefly considering ordering a bottle of the most expensive scotch on the menu and spending the rest of the evening and well into the night drinking himself into a stupor. Anything to numb the mental anguish; relieve the heaviness that sits on his chest and threatens to suffocate him. And while under normal circumstances he’d be obsessing over every little detail of a job and repeatedly running through every possible scenario, his brain has settled in a far different place. Not a single shred of the job and the circumstances surrounding it matter; the neatly typed and extremely well organized ‘mission notes’ Nik had slipped under his hotel room door simply tossed aside. Instead, he finds himself obsessed with the events of five years ago; replaying every second, every word, every movement he’d made on that very last day. Looking for any mistake that he could have made something; even something tiny and innocuous that could have sent her running.

And he dwells on the loneliness and the worry and the anger; the emotions that have plagued him and driven him since the day she left. And they accompany him to where he is today. At this very moment. Sitting in the dimly lit lounge at The Continental; ignoring the chattering of the patrons around him as he uses a fork to push the remains of a steak dinner around his plate . And while the establishment’s food is second to none and he has vivid recollections of the meals he’d been served during his handful of stays, he doesn’t recall tasting a single bite. His body and brain both running on auto-pilot; knowing that they needed to function together to silence the grumbling in his stomach and keep his strength.

While never a social butterfly and in no means in the mood for mindless chit-chat or the mere company of a stranger, he’d forced himself to leave his hotel room; the silence deafening and the loneliness almost physically painful. Anxiety had quickly settled in; tightening his shoulders and creating a pounding in his temples and at the base of his skull. Quickly finding it impossible to sit still; feeling as if the four walls were closing in around him and he was going to go crazy if he didn’t escape.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The pretty little bartender breaks away from her other customers and steps in front of him. Abbie…Addie…something like that. She’s young and vibrant and extremely confident; not above being brazenly flirty and suggestive with her comments. And she’d be attractive enough IF he was even remotely interested. Tall and leggy, with near coal black hair that shimmers under the lights behind the bar; her willowy body on full display in a simple, figure-hugging black dress. Intricate and colourful tattoos cover both arms and piercings decorate her face; a silver hoop that travels through the middle of her bottom lip and a diamond stud that sparkles from its resting place on her left nostril. And she’s been making flirtatious small talk since he arrived; finding the place packed and having to settle for the last seat at the bar.

The corner of his mouth turns up; the beginnings of a smirk. “Believe me, even that’s overcharging for what’s going on in my head.”

“Rough day?”

“More like a rough five years.”

“Sounds ominous. If you’re looking for someone to unload on…”

“Actually, I prefer my bartender and my therapist to be two different people.”

Long past caring whose feathers he ruffles, he’s infamous for being brutal and unapologetically honest. He isn’t looking to impress; he has no interest in impressing women in hopes of filling his bed with a warm body. He’d indulged in too much of that in the past five years; avoiding the booze and the pain meds and instead returning to a less harmful vice. Never sure exactly what he was looking for; whether it be a temporary -and purely physical- cure for the loneliness or something more serious. His heart hadn’t really been invested in either; cold and callous with the women he bedded and never bothered to contact again. Until he’d taken the chance with Delaney; finding a brief glimmer of contentment until she started coming on way too strong. He doesn’t see himself ever settling down with her; taking it as a sign when her mere presence after her first night at his place had only bored and irritated him.

“Not much of a bartender if I’m not pouring drinks, am I? There must be something else I can get you. Ice water can only bring so much enjoyment.”

“I don’t drink. I told you that when I sat down.”

“Everyone needs to unwind. Especially you, by the sounds of it. Seems like you have a lot on your plate. And if a drink helps loosen the lips just a little…”

“I’m an alcoholic.” There’s no way to sugarcoat it. Not that he’s known for his subtlety. He’d learned in rehab that part of fixing your problem was admitting to yourself -and others- that you had one to start with. And if there is anything in his life that he’s proud of, it’s the fact he’s managed to stay sober; proof that the anger and the heartache and loneliness that had followed Esme’s departure hadn’t completely ruined him.

“Putting yourself through some kind of test?” Addie lightly teases. “Takes a strong man to be able to stare his demons in the face like this.”

“I didn’t have much choice, did I. There was no other place to sit.”

She leans back against shelves of booze behind her; arms crossed over her chest as she eyes him in bemusement. “Not much of a social butterfly, are you.”

“Maybe I’m just a certified asshole. Born and raised.”

“Something tells me that’s just a cover. For who you really are. Outside of this crazy fucking world we’re both tied up in. A lot of people are completely different in their personal lives than when they’re here. Maybe it’s a way of protecting themselves; a form of self-perseverance. This kind of life can really drag you down. Even break you. Only choice sometimes is to put up those walls to keep people out.”

“This kind of life doesn’t exactly let you get close to someone. Doesn’t let you have anything normal. Believe me, I tried. And it was an epic fucking disaster.”

“Someone broke your heart.”

“Yeah, just a little.”

“Well if I may be so bold…”

“I’d rather you weren’t.”

“…but it’s definitely her loss.”

He wants to tell her just how wrong she is. That he’d always been one with the most to lose. Esme had brought a much-needed brightness; easily breaking through his tough exterior and shining light on those dark and abandoned recesses deep inside of him. She had reminded him that he was still very much alive and that there was still a lot out there for him to experience; sunsets to marvel over and meals to cook and enjoy together, and the touch and love of someone that adored him. For years he’d been walking around in a state of numbness; caused by immense grief, guilt, and regret and further aided by the booze and the alcohol. And she’d wandered into his life and turned it completely upside down. Peeling away all those protective layers and exposing the long-buried humanity that still existed inside of him.

In the end, he’d lost a hell of a lot. His most loyal confidant and fervent supporter. His best friend and his lover. The sole reason that he’d kept going during those extremely difficult days following Dhaka; the months in the hospital, the long and extremely painful recovery once returning home, and the struggle to get clean and sober and STAY that way. With her, he’d found that he enjoyed being domestic; having someone to take care of and provide for and share his days with. And he thrived on the companionship; the cooking together and the meals shared and the intimacy they’d indulged in. And even the quiet times of just hanging out; at opposite ends of the couch with her feet in his lap as she read a book and busied himself on his laptop. It was comfortable. Normal. An existence he never thought he’d have the chance to lead.

And then just like that, it was all gone.

His head pounds. A mixture of jet lag, hunger, and the million and one thoughts running through it. It’s all so fucking complicated; Esme’s reasonings for both disappearing and keeping Millie a secret for four year years. He wants to believe her; that she left in order to protect him from a brutal and painful demise. But his brain has a hard time accepting that explanation; refusing to believe that she’d managed to get herself mixed up with something THAT dangerous. And in turn, it’s only created a new host of questions he desperately needs and wants answers for.

Addie refills his ice water and leans stomach first against the bar; forearms resting atop the gleaming wood, hands clasped together. “How’d a guy like you end up here, anyway?”

“Same way everyone else ends up here. I kill people. For money.”

“I meant in general. In this business. You just don’t seem the type; that would get their kicks out of brutalizing someone. You’re not like everyone else; walking around here with a huge chip on your shoulder. And you definitely don’t care about what people think about you. I can’t remember the last time someone walked in here in jeans and a t-shirt. If anyone ever has.”

“I’m not here to impress anyone. Or to make friends. I’m here to do a job. And if people don’t like what they see, they can just look away. No skin off my ass.”

She gives a sly smile. “Maybe THEY don’t like what they see, but I know I do.”

He longs to tell her that it’s a lost cause; he isn’t even remotely interested and she’s only wasting her time. It’s been a hell of a day and it isn’t even close to being over with; the impending conversation with Esme sitting heavily upon his shoulders. He’s dreading it; wanting to hear the truth and the apologies but not prepared for all of the emotion -on both sides- that will be involved. In a perfect world, they’d just go back to where they were. Able to simply enjoy the reunion and getting to know one another again; reconnecting AND then rebuilding upon that foundation Dhaka had laid beneath their feet.

Instead, he bites his tongue. “I’m flattered. And forgive me for sounding like a total prick, but you’re barking up the wrong tree here. I’m not interested. I’m not here to get my dick wet. I’m here to do a job. And besides, I learned a long time ago what a huge mistake it is; mixing business with pleasure.”

“For what it’s worth,” She trails a fingernail along the top of his hand; passing over each misshapen knuckle and scar. “I’ve never had a complaint.”

“Listen…” A slow, charming grin spreads across his face as he leans forward; giving the woman a glimmer of hope as his hand comes to rest atop hers. And then his eyes darken; fingers curling around her wrist and his voice becoming deeper and menacing. “...I’m going to have a complaint if you don’t leave me the fuck alone.”

She blinks and recoils the vehemence in his tone; lips pursed tightly together as she yanks her hand out from under his. Not giving a brief glance over her shoulder as she retreats to the opposite end of the bar.

Smirking, he raises the ice water to his lips; pausing when a strong yet friendly hand squeezes his shoulder in greeting. And is quickly followed by a familiar voice.

******

“I see you’re still trying your best to charm the locals. It’s nice to see some things never really do change.”

He takes a swallow of his drink. “I’m just a regular ball of sunshine.”

“Tyler.”

“John.”

Wick gestures to the now empty barstool beside him. “You expecting someone or…?”

“Who wants to hang out with a miserable asshole?”

“Well you know what they say; misery loves company. May I?”

Nodding, Tyler pushes the half-eaten plate of food and the empty glass across the bar, signalling he’s done. Until the afternoon, he hadn’t seen or worked with Wick in years; a high profile -and even more high paying- job that had marked his first -and only- North American gig. From what he’s heard, the man’s been through hell; dragged back and forth into the life through no fault of his own. Dealing with the lingering grief and loneliness following the death of his wife while battling with The High Table; a war that had seen him emerge victorious but with a dozen more scars added to his collection. The stories of Baba Yaga aside, Tyler has always respected the man; a freakishly skilled and enormously successful hitman still grasping desperately to the last remaining shreds of humanity. He’d been relieved when he’d heard Wick had not only been involved in saving Esme and Millie from certain death, but that he’d agreed to stay on board until they were safely out of the country. And offering his further services if Tyler felt he needed them.

Wick offers an appreciative yet tired smile at the bartender that approaches; a glass of bourdon wordlessly placed in front of him. “And another for my friend here. Whatever he’s having. Scotch, right?”

“Ice water. But you’ve got a damn good memory.”

“I’m not usually one for drinking buddies, but I do remember that last job we worked together. When was that? Seven, eight years ago?”

“About that.”

“No one forgets when someone successfully drinks them under the table. Two nights in a row. Always heard the stories about Aussies loving their booze, but…” Taking a swig of bourbon, he winces and lets out a low growl as that first swallow burns going down. “When’d you quit?”

“Almost six years ago.”

“What made you decide to give it up? Liver finally pleading for mercy?”

“Being in a medically induced coma for a couple of months had its hand in things. But I probably would have gotten out of the hospital and gone right back to it though; drank myself to death sooner or later. But honestly, I quit for the same reason you left this life.”

“That’ll do it. You meet that one and…” His voice trails off. The memory of his wife is just as powerful and intense as the day she passed the mere mention of her still bringing about the heartache. It’s a tremendous loss that he’ll never be quite over; destined to live the rest of his life wracked with grief and emptiness.

“Guess we finally have a few more things in common,” Tyler muses. “Job’s not the only thing anymore. Whoever said ‘it’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all’ was a dirty ass fucking liar.”

“I don’t know about that. As much as it still hurts, I wouldn’t go back and change things. Even if I went into it knowing how quickly I’d lose her, I’d still give everything up for Helen. Even if I knew how short the time would be, I’d still try my hand at a normal life. I’d still pick her over everything…and everyone…else.”

“That’s all of a lot of a pain to go through.”

“It is. But the life I DID get with her? The good times? I wouldn’t trade those in for anything. And I think once you get a chance to really digest things and think them through, you’ll be saying the same thing about Esme.”

Tyler WANTS to believe that. It’s not as if the feelings no longer exist; he’s remained hopelessly and desperately in love with her throughout the years they’d been apart. Feeling just how strong it actually was when that separation had finally ended; face to face with one another in the midst of all the lingering sorrow and hurt and anger. It’s love and it’s adoration and immense relief; seeing her alive and well, albeit a little banged up. And while he still wants and needs an explanation for both her disappearance and keeping Millie a secret, the anger isn’t quite as potent now. Seeing her had taken a lot of the edge off; peeling away some of the worry and bitterness.

“You’re lucky though,” Wick says. “Esme’s here. Alive and well. Back in your life. And it’s happened for a reason. Me? I lost Helen permanently. There is no second chance for us.”

“What makes you think I’d even want one? After what went down? What…?”

“If you sit here and tell me you don’t still love her and want a life with her, then you’re the dirty fucking liar.”

“She left. It wasn’t the other way around. Just took off while I was doing shit at our new place. That we bought TOGETHER. I came home and she was gone. Never even bothered to tell me she was leaving. No face-to-face chat, no phone call, not even a goddamn text or an email. You know what I got? I got an ‘I’m sorry’ written on a piece of paper, left in the middle of the kitchen table.”

“And what you got NOW is an opportunity. To be with her again. I know it sucked; I know it probably hurt like hell. But she is right here…under the same roof as you…and you’ve got the chance to make things right. To get past all that shit and be with her. You really going to turn your back on that?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. Am I supposed to pretend it never happened? That it never went down the way it did? I’m pissed. And it isn’t just bad enough that she left the way she did. I come here and find out I have a kid. That she kept from me. I’ve missed four years of her life. And I can’t get those years back.”

“And no one is saying you don’t have the right to be. Be pissed. Be hurt. But don’t be stupid. Don’t let all that negative shit get in the way of patching things up. And if you don’t do it for yourself or her, do it for your little girl. Because she deserves to know her dad. Have him in her life. Are you really going to walk away from that? A chance to know her and raise her? Yeah, you missed four years. And that fucking stinks. But Tyler, if you play your cards right, you’ve got four decades AT LEAST to fill.”

“Do you know why? Esme left? I know that you guys were…friendly…when she used to live here. That she’s the one who introduced you to your wife. Do you have any idea why she took off?”

Downing the last of the bourbon, he holds aloft the empty glass, signalling for another. “I do. But it’s not my place to tell you. If that were the case, I would have gotten in contact with you five years ago. But it’s not up to me to make things right. Sort shit out between the two of you. It’s her story to tell and it’s up to you to listen to her.”

“I just want to know what’s true and what isn’t. I’m not asking for details. I just need that answered. If what she told is true. The main reason why she left. I spent five years thinking the worst. That either she either left me for someone else…”

“That was NOT it. That’s not even close to what happened.”

“...or that someone came and grabbed her. Kept her for a bit and did all kinds of sick shit to her and THEN killed her. You know what that’s like? Wondering if that’s what happened? For FIVE YEARS What it’s like to think ‘I’d rather she be dead with someone else’. I actually thought that. And it’s fucked me up. For a long time.”

“What has she told you?”

“Something from her past caught up to her. People that she crossed. And that they didn’t give her much of a choice. She had to either do what they said, or they’d come back and fuck shit up. Said she left in order to protect me. That I would have survived.”

“You wouldn’t have. Not many people cross their paths and live to tell about it. I’m not going to sit here and tell you who they were or what they wanted or what Esme did. All of that is up to her. But I will tell you that she did the right thing. For both of you.”

“She couldn’t have at least told me? What was going on? Why she was leaving? Or let me know she was safe?”

“Would that have been enough? Or would you have tracked her down? Attempted to play white knight?”

Sighing, Tyler looks down at his glass; brow furrowed as he absentmindedly swirls the ice around.

“Exactly. You would have gone after her and everything she feared would have come true. She did the right thing, Tyler. As much as it hurts and as angry as you are, she really did have your best interests at heart.”

“And you’d just be able to get over it? If someone did that to you?”

“It would hurt like hell and I’d be pissed, but yeah, I’d be able to get over it. Once I calmed down to actually hear them out, I’d realize they did what they did because they loved me. And that’s exactly why she left. Because she DID love you. She still does.”

“Hard to believe that when she was just engaged to someone else a few days ago.” It had hurt like hell hearing THAT detail during the team meeting; a mixture of jealousy and bitterness and pure and utter rage that continued to gnaw at his stomach. He had the thought of it; another man being given the privilege of holding her and kissing her and making love to her.

“That was nothing but part of the job. She was never going to marry him. As soon as she got what was needed and Nik was ready to make your move, she was going to just grab and take off. Don’t think for one second she actually loved that guy. He was a ‘mark’. Nothing more, nothing less.”

They lapse into silence; nursing their drinks and waving off the bartender when he approaches to offer another round.

“Hell of a thing we got ourselves into,” Wick comments. “Trouble always seems to find us, huh?”

“You know what they say; about how you’re never really free of this life. It follows you. No matter how far you run or where you try to hide. Years could go by and you’re thinking you’re free and clear of it and something comes up. Someone calling in a favour, some asshole looking for revenge. The shit finds you. One way or another.”

“You know I’ve walked away three times now? “And each time I told myself it was the last. That I was retired. And nothing or no one could change that. But…”

“Here you are.”

“Yeah…” Wick scoffs. “...here I am. Heard you quit for a bit. Tried your hand at a regular life. Firefighting, was it?”

“Been doing that full-time for the last couple of years. And I run a little business of my own; home renovations, landscaping, masonry stuff. Got enough going on back home to keep me busy. But like I said, you never really leave the life behind. It’s always got a hold on you. No matter how hard you try to let it go.”

“I think it’s safe to say this is the one time you’re probably okay with trouble showing its face. Esme, the kid…”

“Not what I thought I was walking into, I’ll tell you that much. I went into this totally blind. Nik wasn’t too forthcoming with the info when she called me. Made up some bullshit excuse about not being on a secure line. Just told me a client was pretty insistent on hiring for a job.”

“And now here YOU are.”

Tyler nods. “It’s all been a little…surprising…to say the least.”

“Finding out the client was Esme or the fact you have a kid?”

“Both. Before all of this, her leaving seemed like the worst thing that could have ever happened. Then I found out she kept my daughter from me. I think a secret baby trumps everything else.”

“She had her reasons. Just remember that. Give her a chance. To explain things. Don’t let your pride fuck things up. I know that’s easier said than done sometimes, but…”

His phone vibrates against the top of the bar, signalling an incoming text message. And he’s relieved to find that instead of Delaney ranting and raving about him ‘dropping off the face of the earth’, it’s Esme asking if they can talk after Millie has fallen asleep. Able to leave her in the care and protection of Abeula and Nik and visit him in his room or wherever he feels comfortable meeting. It makes him feel like a teenager again; the excitement and nervousness that comes with knowing you’re going to be totally alone with the prettiest girl in school. And he sends back a quick confirmation and his room number, then once more sets the phone on top of the bar, screen down.

Wick smirks. “I recognize that look. Definitely good news.”

“Could be the START of something good. Guess it depends on how things go. When we talk about everything.”

“Just try and keep the pride and the temper in check. I know it’s a shitty situation; her taking off and flying under the radar for years and keeping your kid from you. But she’s got very legitimate reasons. Understandable ones. Just try to keep an open mind. And ear.”

“This isn’t the way I thought it would go. Honestly, I don’t think I was ever really optimistic. About one day seeing her again. So for it to go down like this? Because of a job? Definitely not what I would have imagined.”

“Isn’t that how you first met? Maybe it’s the pattern. What’s the saying? Things come in threes?”

“Don’t wish that on me. I don’t think I have another job like Dhaka in me. I’m just hoping this one doesn’t go down that same road. Organized crime? Mafia style? I’m a little too old for that shit.”

“Aren’t we both.” Standing, he pulls two gold coins from one of the pockets of his suit jacket and lays them on the bar. “My treat,” he says, and then claps Tyler on the shoulder. “Remember what I said; about going in there with an open mind. She DID have a good reason for doing what she did. And if you feel yourself losing control, think of that little girl. And how many years you’ve got left with her.”

“Open mind. Optimistic. Got ya.”

“It’ll all work out, Tyler. Don’t fuck this up. You’ve got a second chance. And believe me, I’d do anything for even one more day…one more second…with my wife.”

*******

“Momma?”

They sit in the middle of the queen-sized bed; Millie between Esme’s outstretched legs as she gets her hair detangled and then braided before bed. She has her father’s hair. Dirty blond and impossibly thick; wild and unruly with a mind all its own. She can easily recall many mornings when he’d stumble out of bed or wake from a nap; grumpy and in desperate need of coffee, those longer strands on the top of his head sticking up in several different directions. He’d feign annoyance when she’d lovingly tease him about how adorable he was; murmuring about how he was supposed to be ruthless and badass and if word ever got about how this supposed ‘cute side’, it would do serious damage to his reputation.

While she misses every aspect of that simple and quiet life with him in Australia, sometimes it’s the absence of those little moments that are the most heartbreaking. The companionship that accompanied the intense and nearly all-consuming want and need. Dinners prepared together and enjoyed out on the front porch, the affectionate teasing and light-hearted banter that was frequently exchanged, the long, deep conversations that took place in the dead of the night. And those moments of intimacy in its softest and purest form. The way he’d approach her in the kitchen while she made something to eat; a hand on her stomach as he nuzzled that sensitive spot just below her right ear. How -during the harder days when the trauma of Dhaka became too much for her to bear- he’d envelop her in strong powerful arms and hold as tight as her body would tolerate; one palm moving in slow, soothing circles in the middle of her back. She’d always find herself instantly comforted; her anxious and tortured mind put to ease by his familiar smell and the warmth radiating from his body and the way his voice rumbled deep within his chest.

“What’s up, sweet pea?”

“Why do we have to leave? Why can’t we just stay here? In New York.”

“Because it’s safer if we go somewhere else. Away from the bad guys. “

“But we’re safe HERE. With Charon and Grandpa Winston. The bad guys aren’t allowed to come here. So why can’t we just stay? Until the bad guys go away?”

“Because this place has rules. About who can stay here and for how long.”

“Whose rules?”

“The boss’.”

“Grandpa Winston IS the boss. He’s kicking us out?!”

“HIS boss. Who he has to listen to or he’ll get into big trouble and then not be allowed to run this place anymore. Everyone that is in charge of something or someone, has people that are in charge of THEM. That they have to answer to. Grandpa Winston may be the boss, but he also has his own boss.”

“Hmmm…” Millie tilts her head to the side; eyes narrowed as she chews thoughtfully on her bottom lip. “You know what, mom? I don’t think I EVER want to be an adult. It’s too stressful. I don’t want a boss. I don’t want someone telling me what to do. Especially some man.”

“I tell you what to do.”

“That’s different. I’m just a little kid still. And you’re my momma. Mommas are supposed to tell kids what they can and can’t do. And we’re supposed to listen. I know sometimes I don’t. But I try. I really do. I WANT to be good, just sometimes…”

“You are always good. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You can be a little difficult and challenging sometimes, but you’re never bad. You’re stubborn and high-spirited and…”

“Alessio thought I was bad. He said that I talk too much and make too much noise and that I’m mouthy. He even said I was naughty. Tons of times.”

“He had no idea what he was talking about. You’re four. Not eighty-four. You’re supposed to be loud and rambunctious. You’re learning about the world. How are you supposed to do that without bouncing all over the place and asking all kinds of questions?”

“I didn’t like him very much, you know.”

“Oh, I know. You never wasted a chance to tell me.”

“He wasn’t really going to be my dad, right? You weren’t REALLY going to marry, were you?”

“No. To both.”

“Because he is so not good enough for you.”

Grinning, Esme sprays the last section of hair with detangler and then works the comb through it. “Something tells me you’d say that anyone that got too close.”

“Only if they’re not the right guy for you. And mom, Alession was NOT it.”

“He wasn’t, was he? You sure seem to know a lot about guys and relationships and commitment for someone who won’t even use the same lunch box two years in a row.”

“I just know you deserve better. He wasn’t very nice to you. He bossed you around. Or at least he tried to. You deserve someone that’s going to treat you right. Like the queen you are!”

Esme laughs. “You’ve been watching Oprah with Abeula, haven’t you.”

“And I wouldn’t say that about EVERY guy; that he isn’t good enough for you. Just when he’s not. And he wasn't. He was mean sometimes. He would call you stupid and stuff and then buy you things to make it all better. And he threw out my sandals! My favourite ones!”

“And I was quick to put him in his place about that, wasn’t I? Don’t you EVER worry about that. If someone messes with you, they mess with me. And I WILL go momma bear on their ass.”

“You should have dumped him. There’s a lot of fish in the sea. Really good ones, too. You deserve someone good, mom. Someone that will take care of you. Who won’t look at other girls and call them pretty and stuff. And who won’t throw out of my shoes.”

“No one else will EVER do that again, I promise.”

“You know who seems really nice? Like he’d treat you right? Tyler.”

“You just met him. You talked to him for all of five minutes. And you could tell what kind of guy he is?”

“I mean, he’s here to help with the bad guys. How awful could he be?”

“He’s not awful. At all. Far from it, actually. But you hardly know him and…”

“I know enough. I know he’s big and strong and the bad guys don’t stand a chance against him. And I know his favourite ice cream is mint chocolate chip! Just like me! What more is there to know?”

“A lot of things.” Esme busies herself with the final braid. “But you’ll have a lot of time to get to know him better. While he’s keeping an eye on us.”

“I might annoy him. Alessio always complained I talked too much and asked way too many questions.”

“Something tells me that Tyler will enjoy it. That he won’t mind one bit. He might not say a lot in return, but…”

“How long have you known him?” Stretching her legs out in front of her, she wiggles her toes; giggling as the glow from the bedside lamp causes the glitter in her bright pink nail polish to sparkle. “How long has he been your friend?”

“I’ve known him for a while. Since before you were born.”

“How long before?”

“A year. And a bit.”

“How’d you meet him?”

“Through work. Auntie Nik introduced us. Paired us up on a job together.”

“Was he your boyfriend?”

Esme hesitates. Both a lie and the truth have consequences; a time down the road when Millie will have even more questions. And anger will follow the answers; either furious that her mother had told a fib or that she’d kept her existence a secret and made her lose four years with her father.

“No. He wasn’t.” She feels sick. At both the denial of Tyler’s importance in her life and how easily the words spilled out of her mouth. “Just a friend. And a colleague.”

“If he’s a friend, how come I’ve never met him? I’ve met all your other friends. Auntie Nik and Uncle Yaz and Uncle John. And there’s Grandpa Winston and Charon! But I never met Tyler. How come?”

“Tyler lives far away.”

“How far away?”

“Thousands of miles.”

“Like in California?! Where all the movie stars are?!”

“No,” Esme laughs. “More like Australia. Which is an entirely different country.”

“I know where Australia is! It’s across the ocean. Right in the middle of it. It’s a big island. It’s where the kangaroos and koalas live. Does he get to see them a lot?! I bet he gets to see tons of kangas and koalas. He’s so lucky! I wish I could see them. Maybe we can go and visit! Maybe he’ll invite us. Do you think he will? Now that we’re besties?”

“I think if you were to tell him you’d love to go to Australia, he’d be more than happy to take you there. But you might not have to say ANYTHING. Or even wait that long to go. It might be where we end up. While Tyler is taking care of us.”

Giving an excited shriek, Millie claps her hands together and bounces up and down on her bum, then swivels around to look at her mom. “We’re going to his house?! In Australia?!”

“I didn’t say we were going there for sure. But…”

“We get to fly on a big airplane?! We get to see kangaroos and koalas?! Where does he live? Does he have a house? With a backyard I can play in? Maybe he has a pool! That way I can get a new bathing suit and we can go swimming and…”

“Whoa…whoa….” Laughing, she gathers Millie in her arms and settles her in her lap; the four-year-old giggling when her mom showers her cheeks with noisy kisses. “...I never said we were going for sure. Just that we MIGHT be. It’s on the list. Of places that Tyler could take us to and keep us safe and sound.”

“I want to go there! To Australia! To Tyler’s house! Can you tell him that, momma? Can you tell him I want to go there? That it would make me really, really, REALLY happy?”

“I can put in a good word, but I can’t promise anything. There are a lot of things we need to think about. When it comes to where we end up. Everyone just wants us to be safe. Keep the bad guys away. So there’s a lot of stuff that needs to be considered.”

“We’d be safe there! In Australia. At Tyler’s place. The bad guys would NEVER come there. He’s too big and too strong and I bet they’re really scared of him. I bet he makes them poo their pants! He doesn’t scare me though. I’m not afraid of him. Even if he is a giant!”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not afraid of him. Because there’s no absolutely no reason. He would never…EVER…do anything to hurt you. To hurt EITHER of us.”

“He just hurts bad people? ‘Cause they deserve it?”

“He hurts bad people in order to protect good people. He doesn’t want to hurt them, but sometimes he doesn’t have much of a choice. Because if he doesn’t do something first, they’ll hurt him. Or worse.”

“They might kill him?”

“They might. But he’s tough and he’s resilient and believe me, IF he gets knocked down? He always gets back up. It makes me happy that you’re not scared of him. I know he’s really big and he can look really serious and mean, but he’s not. He’s a really good guy.”

“Momma…” She tilts her head backwards, eyes narrowed. “...are you SURE Tyler wasn’t your boyfriend?”

“That’s twice you’ve talked about that. What makes you think he was my boyfriend?”

“Just the way your voice sounds when you talk about him. Every time you say his name, you sound weird. Not in a bad way. Just a different way. And I saw the way you were looking at him earlier. When I came back from swimming. Your eyes were all sparkly and stuff. You know how in cartoons when a girl likes a boy, they get stars in their eyes? That’s what you looked like.”

“I think you’re imagining things.”

“You know what I think? I think you have a crush on Tyler. That maybe he wasn’t your boyfriend, but you wanted him to be. And you still do!”

“Amelia…”

“Mommy…”

“You are imagining things. Tyler was my friend. He still is. Nothing more, nothing less. And he’s here to help us, not form a love connection. He’s being paid. To take care of us. To make sure that the bad guys don’t try anything. There is definitely no romance on the horizon.”

“But there COULD be. If you let it happen. You just gotta tell him. That you have a crush on him. I bet if you tell him…”

“No one is telling anyone ANYTHING. Because it’s not true. There are no crushes.”

“I’m not buying it. I can tell. That you like him. And I think he likes you too. Someone has to make the first move, momma. Why can’t it be you?”

“There are no moves to be made, my sweet baby girl.”

“If you don’t tell him, I will! When we go on our ice cream date. I’ll tell him you have a big, fat crush on him! That you think he’s cute and that you like his big muscles and want to kiss him lots and lots and…” She shrieks when she feels her mother’s fingertips lightly dig into the sensitive area under her ribs; dissolving into laughter when she’s tickled mercilessly. Until she’s kicking and squirming and breathlessly pleading for Esme to stop.

“You… little miss…” The tip of her nose nuzzles each of her daughter’s cheeks. “...will do no such thing. Mind your own business, got it? Little girls do not need to meddle Come on….” She drops a kiss on the top of Millie’s head as she yawns. “...lights out time. It’s been a long, busy day for you. Four-year-old bodies can only take so much.”

“Can I stay in here tonight?” Millie hopefully inquires, remaining in the middle of the sea of blankets and sheets as her mother slides off the bed and begins tidying up. “Please? I promise I won’t hog the bed.”

“I still don’t understand how someone so small takes up so much room. What’s wrong with your bed? I thought you liked having all kinds of space to yourself?”

“I do. But sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I don’t remember ever being here and I get scared ‘cause I don’t see any of my stuff. And then I get even more scared because I worry I won’t be able to see YOU either. And that makes me really sad.”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to see me?”

“What if you’re not here? What if you left? ‘Cause the bad guys came? What…?”

“Millie…” Approaching the bed, she takes the little one’s face in her hands and tilts her head up to look at her. “...I would never…EVER…leave you. There is not anyone in this world that’s bad enough to make me ever do something like that.”

“What if they took you? What if they took you away? I wouldn’t be able to find you. Not by myself.”

“Nothing like that is ever going to happen. Not a chance. I promise you that…”

“There’s always a chance. Always. What if it happens, momma? What if someone takes you away?”

“IF something like that happened, there’d be a lot of people looking for me. Auntie Nik, Uncle John, Uncle Yaz. So many people.”

“I’d get Tyler to help. Because he’s big and strong and the bad guys would be really scared of him. He’d be able to find you. And rescue you. I know he would.”

“I know he would too. If there’s anyone in this world that could do the impossible, it’s him. I’ve seen it. With my own two eyes.” (

She thinks of Dhaka. Those initial five days and the carnage on the bridge. Of the smell of spilled gasoline, gunpowder and blood and moans and shrieks and wails of dying men. Of the feel of Tyler’s pulse when she put two fingers inside the bullet hole in the side of his neck; tears streaming down dirty, bruised cheeks as she desperately fought to keep him alive. And that long battle afterwards; the months by his bedside and all of the horrible prognosis’ and the incessant arguing with doctors in order to secure him the care that he deserved. Somehow, he had pulled through all of that; one foot firmly planted firmly over the threshold of death the entire time.)

“Promise me you won’t leave?” Mille whimpers. “Even if the bad guys come? Promise you won’t leave without me?”

“I would never go ANYWHERE without you, Amelia.” She uses the pads of her thumbs to clear away her daughter’s wayward tears. “We’re a team. A package deal. Where I go, you go. And nothing or no one can change that.”

“Ever?”

“Ever. And I know it was scary. What happened the other night. You saw and heard things you never should have had to. And I’m sorry. That you had to go through that. And I’d go back and change so many things if I could.”

“It’s not your fault, momma. That the bad guys showed up.”

“It may have been. Just a little. And I am so sorry, Millie. That I may have done things that ended up hurting you. I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. And I would never…ever…hurt you.”

“I know you wouldn’t. ‘Cause I’m your baby.”

“You are. And you always will be.”

“Can I? Stay in here tonight? I just want to be close to you, that’s all. I feel better when I am.”

“I’d never say no to my favourite snuggle buddy. Do you want to cuddle for a bit? Until you’re almost asleep?”

With a nod and a sniffle, Millie slides over in order to give her mother access to the bed; Esme stretching out beside her and wrapping both arms around the four-year-old’s body. Her chin resting on her daughter’s head; eyes closed as the fingertips of one hand draw slow, methodical patterns on the little one’s back. Finding herself relaxed in the warmth of Millie’s body and the familiar scent that clings to her hair; the same milk, coconut, and honey shampoo that she herself has been using for years.

The one Tyler had claimed to love so much; that smell being one of the things that somehow managed to comfort him during those difficult and painful days in the hospital and then on the long road to healing. Her chest and throat both tighten as she thinks of him. Of those long and painful seconds on the bridge; the pure terror that filled every inch of her body as she watched him teeter so close to death. Those months at his bedside; stroking his hair and holding his hand and whispering words of encouragement and strength and hope in his ear. And all of the pleading she did during her lowest moments; urging him to keep fighting and to give her some kind of sign that he could hear her and knew that she was there.

Begging him to find a way…no matter what it took…to let her know that everything would be okay.