#ultimate imposter x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

m-y-fandoms · 1 year

Text

COMMISSION: SDR2 Boys x Reader - Marshmallow Hell Scenarios

Details: For those who don’t know, Marshmallow Hell is an anime cliche/trope where someone falls face first into/is smothered by someone’s breasts. Also, this is for anyone with breasts, no pronouns are mentioned

Warnings: language and lewd suggestive scenarios but its kinda PG-13/Teen

SDR2 spoilers in some sections, but some will be implied to be Island Mode/no despair

Word Count: 4.5K words - around 500 for each boy

Byakuya Twogami

It was normal for you and all of your classmates to convene in the hotel restaurant every morning. You ate breakfasts handmade by the Ultimate Cook, discussed the day’s plans, and just caught up with each other. There were already cliques and little sub-groups within the whole - people who favored each other. Nekomaru could often be found getting stronger or training with Akane, Sonia and Gundham spoke of their interest in the occult, and Hajime and Chiaki had grown quite close. Ibuki had developed a fondness and sort of infatuation for the group’s self-appointed leader: Byakuya Togami. It seemed natural to want to be closer to someone titled the Ultimate Affluent Progeny, as he held wealth, status, confidence, and yet a bit of mystery. Ibuki, however, seemed to take to him more than the others. She was constantly asking him questions, playfully praising him, following him around.

This morning in particular, you were minding your own business, in the corner talking about beach-going plans with Chiaki after having just finished your breakfast. Ibuki, loud and boisterous, was trailing behind Byakuya, asking after what their esteemed leader had planned for the day, and Hiyoko, short-tempered as ever, was slowly losing her patience with the noise so early in the morning.

You actually had to commend Byakuya on his own patience. For someone who would be easy to judge as pompous and stuck-up, he actually was quite good at keeping his cool and naturally taking up his post as leader. He passed by Chiaki and yourself on the way back to the kitchen of the restaurant, and you nearly felt bad for the man who appeared to still be groggy from sleep and yet was being bombarded by conversation. He handled Ibuki well. Hiyoko, however, had enough it seemed.

“Ugh! Shut the hell up! I just woke up and you’re being annoying! Go talk to Mr. Ham Hands in your private cabin if you wanna suck his gross, cheesy dick that bad!” Clenching her teeth in frustration, Hiyoko reached out and shoved Ibuki as hard as she could with her angry little hands. The strength such a hateful little body could produce was actually quite surprising. Ibuki screeched, stumbled abruptly forward into Byakuya, who, taken by surprise, tumbled forward onto you. Like a stack of dominos you all went down with quite a bit of commotion.

With the hefty size and height of the Affluent Progeny before you, you were easily taken flat to the ground with a gasp. Everyone turned to look at the situation: Ibuki collapsed across Byakuya’s ass and legs, and Byakuya smothered head first into the plush front of your breasts. Time seemed to stop for a second, and Byakuya raised his head, cheeks aflame with embarrassment at the undignified position. You looked back into his eyes with just as much shock. Hiyoko covered her mouth with both hands, holding back how devilishly delighted she was at the chaos she’d just caused.

“Well, well! If the big rich boy wanted some play that badly, he probably could’ve just asked (Y/N)! I must say, I’m quite jealous of his position!” Teruteru teased, wiggling his fingers, imagining himself switching places with Byakuya.

Byakuya scrambled to his feet, lifting himself off of you in a hurry while sputtering defensive, angry retorts about how a gentleman of rare stock such as himself would never stoop so low and something about not being a common rake like the promiscuous chef.

Teruteru Hanamura

Teruteru was playful, unserious, relaxed in most aspects of his life and personality. However, you noticed he was fiercely serious when it came to cooking. It was his passion, his life’s work, something he didn’t play around with. You admired how much time and effort he put into his craft, and loved to watch him work. He spent every breakfast, lunch and dinner period making a literal feast for all of his classmates, and you often liked to either watch him work his magic in the kitchen, or get more hands-on and actually help him. You found him funny and knowledgable, and liked learning little recipes and cooking methods as much as eating the finished works. However, it was nice to be complimented, compared to delicious dishes and praised for your cooking assistance skills. You found yourself having a lot of fun with him.

At the moment, you were helping Teruteru in the dining hall of the old building by the hotel. Your class had prepared a little party of sorts for tonight, a little feast and get-together to chat, have fun, and just be carefree for a night. Now done with the dishes, it was all about plating and arrangment. He wanted the dining hall to stun your peers when they arrived in the next ten minutes or so.

He was up on a ladder, piling up a tower of sashimi and nigiri a mile high. You spotted him, nervous about the height he was at, especially with his short frame. You had your arms out in preparation, ready for any spills or to catch stray strips of fish meat. Everything had to be perfect. He took pride in that. Ice on the bottom, a cold room, fresh meat, the proper placement.

Teetering to place a bit of yellowtail and red snapper on the top of his masterpiece, you heard him gasp a bit, one foot stumbling over the other on the top step of the ladder. Determined not to crash into and therefore ruin his mountain of fish, he quickly shifted his weight, twisting so he instead fell away and off of the ladder and unfortunately, onto his gracious helper. You grunted with the impact, slamming flat onto your back on the hard floor with Teruteru on top of you. With his height and the angle of the fall, his face planted so very conveniently into your breasts.

It was almost a little too perfect of a scenario for someone like him, and you flustered up immediately, questioning if he’d done it on purpose as he took his good old time getting up. Of course, lewd remark after lewd remark ensued, as he took advantage of the situation fully. How often would he get an opportunity as lucky as that?

Nekomaru Nidai

Nekomaru had many more positive traits than negative ones. You absolutely loved spending time with him, as he radiated positivity and pushed all of those around him to be their best self and train their bodies and minds. He was all about mental and physical strength, as was expected of the Ultimate Team Manager. Nekomaru trained champions, and so he could never just let his friends go without realizing their full potential. You very much enjoyed his presence, his overwhelming energy, hearty laugh, encouraging personality.

Spending time with Nekomaru often meant also spending time with Akane. The two walls of muscle often bonded over their shared interest in being strong in body and mind, and today you’d agreed to train with them. Nekomaru was good at reading people’s insecurities - better to help overcome them - and today, he insisted on honing your senses, as the killing game left you feeling vulnerable and even a bit useless. There’s no one you trusted more to help you get out of those feelings. It was good to get your mind off of things while training to become less of a target for a killing. Two birds, one stone and all that.

Nekomaru had all four of you blindfolded: you, Nekomaru himself, Akane, and Hajime Hinata, who often got roped into silly activities with whoever seemed to be available to hang out that particular day. Nekomaru insisted he could use the training as well, so here he was. The next hour or so was spent dodging light attacks, relying on hearing and sensing danger when sight was not an option. Nekomaru always went easier on you and Hajime, saving the harder hits for Akane, who would never accept any less. Out on the beach behind the diner, you felt the sand between your toes, the wind on your face, the blindfold forcing you to perceive your surroundings in a whole new way.

You swivled on your heels, hearing someone new approach from the south, and you assumed everyone else heard them, too. It was Ibuki, as you easily reognized from the voice.

“There you guys are! We couldn’t find you for like, forever! Anyhoo! Teruteru sent me to round y’all up! Soup’s on! Come on back to the-” before Ibuki could even finish her words, Akane was bolting, blindfold still on, toward the first island, and only Ibuki would actually see what happened next:

Akane, all speed and no sight, plowed into Hajime and pushed past him. He yelped, splatting onto the ground at full-force.

“Ouch! What the fu- ah!” Hajime was cut off as Nekomaru, who also was now heading in the same direction as Akane, tripped over Hajime’s prone body on the sand, tripping face forward onto you, innocent of the chaos and unsuspecting while still blind to the world around you.

“Gah!” Nekomaru’s deep voice rumbled, clumsily taking you down with him, his huge mountain of a body easily smashing yours into the sand below him. Ibuki could only laugh at the cluster-fuck in front of her, the chain of events that lead to Nekomaru face planting directly into your chest. His exclamation of surprise was muffled into your soft mounds of flesh. You were speechless, just wondering what the hell was going on.

“Aww man, sorry, Hajime!” Nekomaru, hearing Hajime yell out beforehand, assumed it was the skinny brunette crushed below him. He reached up for the blindfold, lifting it and immediately feeling a rush of embarrassment set his cheeks ablaze. The tips of his ears were on fire and his heartbeat was racing, now making eye contact with you.

He wasn’t oblivious to his size, knowing whoever he’d fallen on top of was almost certainly pinned and unable to get up until he moved, so he scrambled to is feet, apologizing profusely and helping you to your feet while Ibuki made teasing remarks just a short distance away.

Gundham Tanaka

It was a rare stormy night on the beautiful tropical island. All outdoor activities were off the table, and so you and your good friend, Gundham, decided on spending time in his cabin. It had taken a lot of work to get Gundham to this point, where he let a “mere mortal” into the safe space of his private quarters, and he was still closed off in some ways. He had walls up: about his heart, his past, his Four Dark Devas, and you’d slowly broken many of them down. He still was his own quirky, awkward, edgy self, but around you, he was slightly more relaxed. He didn’t usually let others interact with his Devas, and he still insisted they could turn on even himself in a moment’s notice as they were powerful beasts and truly their own masters, but he was more comfortable letting you hold and take care of them than anyone else. You’d earned that right. You were worthy in his eyes.

You loved his personalized cabin, overrun with hamster tunnels and pet care items. It was so cute and cozy, a stark contrast to his own presentation to the world. Tonight, he regaled you with embellished and dramatic tales of his past feats while the Devas crawled all around you. One was under the collar of your shirt, trying to siphon away your body heat, another used your shirt sleeve like a tunnel. One sat in your lap, eating a seed you offered. Gundham’s storytelling was so entertaining to you because he was so effortlessly good at it. It was an accident that he was so alluring.

Without warning, lightning cracked outside and the lights went out. It was pure black all around you, and you assumed your peers in their own cabins were experiencing the same thing.

Freaking out a bit, Gundham yelled for his Devas, calling them back to his own side. Again, though he trusted you, and didn’t want to admit any faults in his breeding and training methods, at the end of the day, the Devas were animals with instincts and wild at heart. He feared them panicking at the sudden darkness and lashing out to scratch or bite you. He could handle it, as his bandaged arm proved, but he didn’t want that happening to you.

He reached out frantically for the Devas in the dark, lunging forward, scrambling and stumbling until he accidentally toppled you over. Clumsily, he fell forward onto you. You yelped at the impact, not seeing but feeling the Devas scramble for cover away from you before they could be crushed by their owner. Now flat on your back in the darkness, you smelled a masculine, fragrant gel product as a coif of hair tickled your nostrils. Quickly you realized that Gundham Tanaka had pinned you, his face smashed into your bosom.

The monitor that adorned every individual cabin flashed on, the monochromatic, evil bear appearing with a sheepish look across his mischievous face.

“Sorry there, kiddos! Backup generator comin’ at ya!” As if he even cared in the first place, he giggled before disappearing off the screen once again.

The lights shuttered and then flashed back on, Gundham now able to fully take in the situation. His eyes met yours, and widened in absolute horror, mouth agape. He shoved himself off of you immediately, crawling back to his side of the floor and gathering his Devas into his arms. He preferred to pretend the whole thing never happened, hiding his now tomato-red face behind the folds of his scarf.

Nagito Komaeda

Nagito was acting weird. Like, weirder than usual. You were all in the hotel restaurant for your morning meeting as always, save for Fuyuhiko, who was in the hospital after Peko’s trial the day before. Nagito was a clammy, sweaty mess, ranting and and raving about the most random things, and just… lying a lot?

You knew Nagito a little better than the others in the group, actively choosing to befriend and get to know him as much as he would allow, but one didn’t need to know Nagito well to know that he was lying. He was saying the most outlandish, obvious lies in rapid succession.

“Nagito, is this a joke? What are you up to, now?” Hajime, ever cynical and suspicious questioned the pariah of the group, who held himself in a crazed embrace, arms wrapped around his shaking form as he rambled on.

You also knew from spening time with Nagito that he was ill, extremely ill. He was so physically ill that it extended into affecting his mental and emotional wellbeing as well. It wasn’t like he didn’t lie to push his own goals from time to time, but this was different. Something was wrong. You’d all observed that Ibuki and Akane were acting strange as well, and so Hajime, kind of the default leader of sorts, put his flat palm to each of their foreheads and found them ablaze with heat. Ah ha! So there was an illness on top of the illness. Nagito was lanky and pale as it was, but today, he was a ghost of even that.

The group discussed what to do, trying to figure out what was wrong with your three obviously ill classmates, when Nagito, chuckling in a frenzied, unstable way, started to wobble on his feet. You saw his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he stumbled, beginning to drop. You swept forward and moved to catch him before he could hit the floor and take some real damage. With someone as sickly as him, a good fall would probably mess him up big time. Losing consciousness, his dead weight fell face forward, directly into the cushion of your breasts. You fumbled with his weight, struggling to keep him up while he nearly suffocated into the plush surface that smothered his face. You panicked, looking around for help, humiliation in your expression. He was heavier than his gangly frame suggested.

Hajime Hinata

You had the despair disease.

And you had it bad.

Forced into the hospital on the third island, you, Nagito, Akane and Ibuki had been quarantined, separated from most of your healthy classmates. Only Mikan, Fuyuhiko and Hajime visited the four of you on a day-to-day basis, both to care for you until you were better and to protect you from being victims of the killing game. Hajime, being closer to you than the others and someone who considered you a true friend, also just wanted to be there to keep you company. If he caught the disease trying to protect and visit you, so be it. He wasn’t really worried about it.

Little did Hajime know, you very much saw him as more than a friend. Although you’d never admit it to him, you were head over heels for your intelligent, perceptive, caring classmate. Your crush couldn’t have been bigger. When the disease first began to manifest and you were in the more mild stages of it, you tried to keep him away from the hospital, because it was clear to you which form of the disease you’d caught.

Akane had cowardice, Nagito lying, Ibuki gullibility, and you…

It was most definitely love… or lust, or infatuation… you couldn’t quite tell. You’d like to think it was love, because if it was just lust or infatuation, you’d think you’d be climbing all over Fuyuhiko and Mikan when they came to visit, too, but so far, your grabby hands had only been reaching for Hajime. Your mind had been infected with an all-encompassing passion for Hajime Hinata, and Hajime Hinata alone.

Again, when you were more conscious and healthy at the begginning stages of the disease, you could recognize the involuntary increase of feelings swelling in your heart. You tried to warn Hajime to stay away, fully aware of what was happening to your body. He insisted on taking care of you just as he would help Mikan take care of the others, regardless of your warnings. As your fever burned and the sickness ravaged your body, you found it harder and harder to not grab at him when he approached, to not flirt shamelessly, to not look him up and down and imagine him without his shirt on. On days when the island felt hotter than usually, you subtly even suggested that he just be rid of the white uniform shirt altogether. Hajime had been a blushing mess around you all week, but had done his best to ignore the touches and advances, as he knew you weren’t in your right frame of mind. Though he secretly liked you more as a friend as well, he’d never take advantage of your predicament.

On this day in particular, the disease seemed to be at its climax. Your body was going through waves of heat flashes, sweat pouring from your hairline and onto your face.

As soon as Hajime opened the door to your hospital room, you leapt out of the bed before he could even speak a word. Your heart burned with affection as you latched onto him, jumping into his arms and smushing his face into the crevice of your breasts, very much on purpose.

“Hajime~ I missed you~” You crushed his nose into the sweaty cleavage of your bosom, wanting him to feel the warmth and love you held for him.

“(Y-Y/N)!” Hajime sputtered, stunned at the surprise attack, could barely breath, smothered into the embrace.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

You really admired Peko for her strength, skill and silent grace. She was strong and knew she was strong. She didn’t boast, she was confident in her art form. She was truly the Ultimate Swordswoman. Although it was quite hard at first, you’d managed to get close enough to her to consider her a friend. Being close to Peko by default meant you’d have to get a bit closer with Fuyuhiko as well. The pair were inseparable it seemed, and you didn’t mind that. Fuyuhiko, despite his fiery, spiky exterior, was actually much more thoughtful and kind that most people knew. You’d grown to realize that those who earned a modicum of his trust and friendship would not be disappointed in the type of man he could be. He often tagged along, pretending he didn’t want to be there when you hung out with Peko.

You stood on one side of the beach with Peko across the way on the other side. Peko took up an offensive stance, preparing for a head-on attack. She’d agreed to teach you some swordsmanship and martial arts basics here and there after seeing your interest, and so here you were, on your third lesson. Today’s learning goals included the basics of defensive stances, blocks, counters.

You weren’t picking up the skills as quickly as you’d like, though Peko always encouraged you to press on in her sisterly, stern, blunt way. Fuyuhiko stood nearby, reading some old book from the enormous library while leaned carelessly against the outside wall of the diner. He looked up occassionally to watch you two and comment, to scoff or tease when you messed up or express concern begrudgingly when he felt like Peko was going a little hard on you. Though she was supportive verbally, it seemed that she sometimes forgot her own strength compared to a beginners when it came time for action.

Frustrated with your own skills, you spaced out a bit, sighing and dropping your guard for just a moment, the wrong moment. Peko surged forward for an attack, noticing your lack of focus just a second too late.

“(Y/N), block!” Peko spoke curtly as she approached. With that wake up call, you brought the practice sword up at the very last second, just barely avoiding a head-on attack from the master swordswoman, one that probably would’ve knocked you out cold. Your pathetic excuse for a block took away a bit of the brunt impact, but Peko’s pure strength had you stumbling back still, knocked backward off your feet.

Fuyuhiko, softer in the heart than he’d like to admit, looked up upon hearing the commotion and, in an instinctual moment of reaction, dropped his book and lunged forward, ready to break your fall, if even just a little. You made eye contact with him on the way down, dropping hold of the sword and twisting to grab onto his petite frame.

You easily tipped over his small body, taking him down with you. You instantly smothered him - your chest lining up perfectly with his nose and mouth - cutting off his airways as you two hit the ground. You were crushing him.

Profanities and protests fully muffled against your chest, Fuyuhiko struggled and swore, insulting you and hurling hateful curses from his compromising position.

Kazuichi Souda

You were making your way to Strawberry House from Grape House. In the elevator beside you was your good friend, Kazuichi, or just Kaz’, as you’d affectionately taken to calling him. You two often moved together, hanging out nearly every day, and now that you were all locked inside the funhouse, nothing had changed. In fact, with the danger of the killing game motive, you probably spent even more time linked at the hip with Kazuichi, as you liked to have each other’s back. He was a true friend to you.

Not only did you find Kazuichi’s unique style intriguing and his personality hilarious, but you really respected his unmatchable skill in engineering. He was a master, able to fix, take apart, and fix again nearly every machine or piece of tech that was thrown at him. He often, in fact, didn’t see just how amazing he was. Sure, he bragged at times, but you sensed a lot of insecurity under the surface, like he would never know just how valuable and important he actually was. You would often ask for his help fixing things or beg him to teach you some of what he knew.

On what you expected to be a short ride in the elevator, you were chatting it up with your best bud, complaining about the lack of food and the eye-strain caused by the bright walls of the fun house. One thing you two loved to do was complain together. You both just seemed to get each other.

Quite suddenly, the elevator stalled. Stopping mid-sentence, you grabbed onto Kazuichi’s forearm for reassurance as the elevator shook and thrusted to an abrupt halt with a jolt, knocking you into him. The lights flickered and went out.

“This is my worst fucking nightmare…” You chuckled nervously, grabbing onto Kazuichi tighter. He was panicking too under the surface, but being the Ultimate Mechanic, knew he was well within his skill set to fix the situation. Grumbling in displeasure, he sighed.

“Yeah, this fuckin’ sucks, but…” he started reaching out in the dark, looking for some kind of control panel or buttons, “I can probably get us outta here. Shit! If only I had just a speck of light!” You relinquished your hold on him so he could crouch, looking for some way to start his work. The panic was starting to really set in for you. What were the odds of this happening?

With a groan, the elevator lurched and shook again.

“Kaz’!” You shrieked in the dark, leaping forward to grab onto Kazuichi, not caring one bit if you were impeding on any progress he had made. He yelped as you suctioned yourself onto him, tackling him to the ground.

“H-hey!” Kazuichi’s voice was muffled below you. You could barely make it out. “I can’t breathe!” He struggled beneath you, locked in your vice-like, terrified embrace as you ashphixiated him into your chest.

688 notes · View notes

emberstoriesandtales · 1 month

Text

The Insecure Artist (Ultimate Imposter x Ultimate Artisian Fem!Reader)

* I tried my best with this oneshot, it's been a while since I've played goodbye despair or seen the anime, so I hope I did OK with writing for the ultimate imposter

◇◇◇

She wasn't gonna lie, if she wasn't listening to music with her earbuds in, Y/N would have noticed her classmate, the ultimate imposter, come into the art room.

She didn't realize that they were in there until she was done shaping the clay pot and was about to put it on a separate table to start putting a design on it.

As she turned around, she jumped a little when she saw the Ultimate Imposter standing next to the table, who was observing her as she was working.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you." They said with a smile as Y/N smiled back as she set the clay down on the table.

"I saw you working so I wanted to see some of your work, if that's ok."

Y/N felt her heart stop for a moment, she never had anyone ask to see her work.

She was happy but also was unsure about showing them the stuff that she made.

The last time someone saw her work, it was back when she was in middle school, some people who she thought were friends, but when they saw the projects she worked on, they made fun of it.

Even though she has the title of the Ultimate Artisan, she was always insecure about her work.

"Oh, ummm... are you sure?" She asked, not looking up at her classmate.

"Yes, as long as you are okay with it. I am sure everything you have made are amazing." They replied, causing Y/N to blush a bit.

Y/N stood there in thought for a moment, unsure what to do, but she quietly sighed, and nodded.

"S-sure, I'm fine with it." She then lead the Ultimate Imposter to the room with the kiln oven is along with all her different projects.

Turning on the lights, she walked in and gestured to the many different pots, plates, mugs, blankets, rugs, and pieces of jewlery that you made over the year.

"This is everything I made during this year, I know these aren't the absolute best, but I tried my best." She said looking down, waiting for whatever they thought about it.

"Y/N, these are incredible! Why don't you show these to our classmates, even the other classes." They said with a smile, causing Y/N to look back up at them shocked.

"Really? I don't know..." she muttered as she blushed even more.

"Y/N, you are an amazing crafter. You need to have more confidence in yourself and your work. I am sure everyone else would love to see these." They said as they grabbed her hand and gently squeezed it to reassure her.

She looked back up, her e/c eyes meeting their green eyes, as they gave her a soft smile, causing her to smile back.

"Okay."

#danganronpa #danganronpa goodbye despair #goodbye despair #the ultimate imposter #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa goodbye despair x reader #goodbye despair x reader #the ultimate imposter x reader

5 notes · View notes

double-edged-pen · 2 years

Note

Hiiii!! The writing here is lovely! I’m not sure which characters you’re okay to do with danganronpa but can I request Ultimate Imposter, Kokichi Oma, Gundham Tanaka and Byakuya Togami (if those are too many, you can just pick whoever c:) with a fem! s/o who gets overwhelmed by several different things easily? Like work, chores, etc.?

Thank you so much by the way!! :D

Helping You When You're Overwhelmed HC's: Fem!Reader X Ultimate Impostor, Gundham, Kokichi, and Byakuya

Hey there! It's lovely to meet you! We're okay with basically all the characters from Danganronpa (issues only begin when we get to Despair Girls).

Thank you for the wonderful compliment! I brought Mod Pink with me this time, so I hope that's okay with you. If you have a favorite, or if you prefer the way someone writes a certain character, you can always request from one specific Mod (no hard feelings from either of us!). Otherwise, we'll just divide the workload however we see fit.

Requests are currently open to all! Hope we'll see everyone, soon!

~ Mod Yellow

Byakuya Togami (Impostor):

The Ultimate Imposter cares about the wellbeing of anyone he considers a friend, so he cares at least double for someone as close to him as his S/O is.

When tackling a task that seems too large, he tends to break it down into parts. You don’t just become someone else overnight! You have to get the right clothes, know what sort of grades to earn (and how to do that), and a bunch of other details. If you take it one step at a time, you’ll do just fine!

He tries his best to help you in whatever way he can. Concerned with chores? Well, let’s start in the bathroom. Would you prefer to wipe the mirror or the countertop? If he has time, he’ll do the other. If he doesn’t, he’ll talk you through step after step, reassuring you the whole way.

He doesn’t really care how you did in the past. Was yesterday a bad workday? So what? It’s one day out of many. He’ll do what he can to take care of you no matter what grades you get. But here, let him show you how to do this tricky bit. You’ll have to do it by yourself in class, and there’s no need to panic about the same problem twice.

“S/O…you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. You need not concern yourself with such worries.”

As you work, he’ll make sure to remind you to take frequent breaks to take care of yourself, and will of course reward your efforts, no matter how small they seem. You did great, and naturally you can’t be at your best at all times. After all, that’s why you have someone like him to rely on. He’ll guide you when you’re at your lowest so that you can hope to match him at your best.

Speaking of rewards, what better way to reward you than with your favorite fast food? Not only will eating nourish you, but as the superior food option, it will also help to motivate and comfort you.

Whether or not you agree with his views of fast food being superior, you can’t deny how good your favorite fast food joint sounds. After all, comfort food is comfort food! And who understands what food you're craving better than your S/O?

Just remember to encourage him to introduce different rewards, such as a movie night or cooking or something besides just fast food. You ate out 5 times last week, and as much as you enjoy burgers, fries, and chicken nuggets, you are getting tired of eating the same foods over and over. Not that you’re complaining.

Gundham Tanaka:

As someone who can read the moods of his Four Dark Devas of Destruction, as well as many other animals, with ease, he can easily transfer this ability to helping his S/O long before her stress becomes a large issue.

Are there too many chores to complete? Fear not! Gaze upon the speed of his Dark Devas as they purge your desk of dust! …You aren’t sure if the hamsters rolling around in front of you are creating more work, as your desk wasn’t that dusty and now there’s hamster hair on your homework, but you can’t help but calm down a little at how cute they are as they work! Gundham seems proud of himself, at least.

Since Gundham has taught others to care for animals in the past, he finds no trouble in displaying the art of folding the laundry or doing the dishes to you, advising the best techniques to further hone your abilities. Or something like that. You can’t remember what he said exactly, but having him help you with the chores was nice of him. Not that you’ll tell him.

“I have tamed powerful creatures such as the cerberus and the phoenix. I have faced many a demon and come out of such encounters unscathed. So fear not! With the Supreme Overlord of Ice by your side, your own demons are powerless!”

On the off chance you become too overwhelmed, he’ll set the Four Dark Devas of Destruction upon you to distract you until you are calm again. Sometimes he’ll speak what you believe are words of reassurance, and sometimes he’ll just sit off to the side and watch in silence.

If that somehow doesn’t calm you down, he might try to build up the courage to hold your hand to reassure you. Despite his aversion to physical touch with mortals, he’ll make a special exception for an extremely stressed-out S/O. But you better keep your end of the pact and continue to fight to banish your inner demons!

As a reward for conquering your foes, such as completing the full chore list, making it through a particularly challenging workday, or doing well on that test you were worried about, Gundham will take you to wherever he’s keeping the animals he’s breeding at the time and will let you pet as many as you desire for however long you want.

Alternatively, he’ll host a game night with several video games or board games for you to try so you can release your worry fighting literal demons instead of internal ones. Or playing a game with cute animals. You’ll both have fun either way.

Kokichi Oma:

Who knows how to turn work into play better than Kokichi? You may worry about your workload now, but by the time the day is done, you’ll be under the impression you were fooling around the whole time!

On the days that it’s really rough, everything’s a game if it means you’re kept engaged. Let’s time S/O to see how quickly she can finish those files! If you can do it within a certain time limit, you’ll earn a special prize~!

Rewards can range from anywhere between Kokichi bringing you some form of a snack to cuddles to kisses…he might even start a pillow fight if he thinks you’re too stressed.

“Okay! It’s time for us to take a break from the computer and make a blanket fort~! Whaddya say?”

Of course, he’ll help with the chores when you ask. Even if you don’t, sometimes he’ll just look at you and start a competition. Can you sweep the floors before he finishes folding the laundry?

You had to ban that last game because Kokichi folded the clothes so horrendously that you had to redo the load. Everything had wrinkles in it.

Every time one of these days happens, where you just can’t focus and Kokichi tricks you into working, you’ll go out to eat.

Sometimes it’s just fast food. Other times, you go somewhere nice as a big reward. No matter what, though, you always end up enjoying yourselves.

By the end of the day, you’ll forget what had you so worried in the first place. Whenever you need him to, Kokichi is ready to show you that work and play aren’t worlds apart, after all.

Byakuya Togami:

Byakuya knows what it’s like to have several different things on his plate at once. What else do you expect from someone who’s about to inherit a multi-billion dollar company? Multitasking is just another part of his routine.

That said, he has his own strategies as to how he keeps himself underwhelmed. Stress has been proven to enhance people’s abilities; it only negatively affects you if you let it. Byakuya will gladly share this information with you in an attempt to reassure you.

He’ll recommend a few courses of action to you. You could put everything you have to do that day into a list, organized by importance. Maybe you’re the type that needs to set timers to grant yourself a certain amount of time to work and a certain amount of time to take a break. Spending 30 minutes working and taking 5 minute breaks in between until the task is finished has proven to increase productivity.

Will make sure that you aren’t spending too much time panicking over work or studies rather than actually doing the tasks. There’s no need to waste time that could be put to use. He’ll make sure to help you step back and take a look at everything you need to do. Once you break it all down, it really isn’t that much, see?

Don’t even think about chores. Really. Don’t. Byakuya has a whole team meant to do just that. Neither of you should have to bother with such a thing, in his opinion.

On that note, if any of your tasks are truly menial, he’ll just have one of his assistants help you. Need to deliver a file or an important paper? Someone is already grabbing their keys to do it for you. Having trouble with some of your schoolwork? Congratulations, you now have a private tutor ready to help. He can’t have someone close to him failing classes or risking unemployment. Byakuya won’t allow you to be anything less than your best.

“Tch. You shouldn’t be wasting your time on something as trivial as this. Let me get someone else to do it; you’ll focus on more important things.”

Whenever Byakuya finishes with his own work for the day, he’s always sure to check in on you. Odds are, you’ll both want to relax after your minds have been working all day.

Relaxing might consist of just sitting on the couch together and watching a movie. Not one that demands your attention; just something for background noise while you two chat quietly about whatever comes to your minds.

Whatever you both choose to do, you make sure each others’ minds are empty before finally heading to bed (or before he finally has someone drive you home). There’s no reason for any of tomorrow’s worries to worm their way into your head today, after all.

~ Mod Yellow & Mod Pink

#danganronpa thh #danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #killing harmony #sdr2 #drv3 #dr goodbye despair #dr killing harmony #dr1 trigger happy havoc #dr1 #byakuya x reader #byakuya togami #kokichi oma #drv3 kokichi #gundham x reader #gundham tanaka #ultimate imposter #kokichi x reader

121 notes · View notes

originaldanganronpascenarios · 1 year

Note

May I request the ultimate imposter × a small lolita reader?

I usually don't have much to say when all I know about reader is their appearance...

Imposter with a Lolita S/O

Reader here is female

Your style was just a perfect fit for you. It was clear they appreciated your sense of fashion and they just couldn't help but admire some of the details on your outfits.

Whenever you would go out together they'd keep an eye open for any cute accessories in the stores you were passing.

Your height difference is pretty apparent, they acknowledge it, but never really is something they pay attention to unless it's necessary. Even though you look like a smaller life sized doll next to them.

~Mod Angie

#byakuya twogami #Twogami x reader #ultimate imposter #Imposter x reader #Sagishi danganronpa

9 notes · View notes

crappy-danganronpa-imagines · 2 years

Note

I love your writing and I was wondering Can I get the Ultimate imposter × a small reader

Hello hello !! I wasn’t quite sure what you meant by small so I assumed you meant thin and short.

If you’d like to specify I’ll gladly change it !!

Imposter adores you no matter what you look like

Tall, short, thin, thick, anywhere in the middle

Doesn’t affect how imposter sees you at all

However it does influence how they joke with you

Short and thin? Be prepared to be called tiny

Imposter will tease you about not being able to reach things

Or not being tall enough to get on rides

They mean it with love though don’t worry

They’ll stop teasing you the moment you seem upset or say something though

Imposter doesn’t want to make you feel bad about the way you look at all

They’ll grab things off of high shelves for you without you asking as well

May lift you up to grab something if you’re stubborn

They give great hugs.

The combination of them being taller than you and soft, like hugging a pillow or a cloud

Overall they love you love teasing you in a nice way

#mod angie #ultimate imposter #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 x reader #byakuya twogami #oh my god story time

27 notes · View notes

ectoplaasm · 2 years

Photo

Read it here!

Doubles as the next entry is the “besties” series. Peko was gonna be here, too, but I am lazy and rlly needed to finish both this picture and the chapter. Big fan of how it worked out that in Mondo’s splash art he’s wearing white, so the Twogami thing where he wears the white version of Byakuya’s suit works similarly with Twowada. Anyway, your honor, I love them

#happy saturday #iirttpciac #fanganronpa #danganronpa fanart #danganronpa fanfiction #sdr2 #sdr2 fanfiction #sdr2 fanfic #talentswap #gundham tanaka x reader #danganronpa #characters that appear in this chapter:#everyone lol #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #mondo owada #mondo twowada #ultimate imposter

15 notes · View notes

yourlocalmikankinnie · 2 years

Text

Cherry Blossoms

Pairing: Ultimate imposter x reader

Byakuya loved you. Nobody knew that but him. Until one lovely day....

---------------------------------------------------

You were on your way to school. You had forgotten to eat breakfast and you were hungry as hell. You decided to stop by an ice cream truck and get you ice cream.

"excuse me, may I have [flavor] ice cream?"

The ice cream worker gave you the ice cream and you continued your walk to school. On the way you met many of your upper and lower classmates, you waved at them with the hand that wasn't holding your ice cream and continued. You had finished your ice cream by the time you got there.

Your seatmate, Byakuya was reading a book when you came into the classroom. It wasn't out of the ordinary but he still looked beautiful while doing it. A lot of people found him unattractive because of his weight but he never cared about that, Nor did you. If someone has a good personality and respects you that's all that matters. Right?

You sat down and waved at him. He responded with a wave back, not taking his eyes off the book. Your energetic teacher came in and started her lecture.

----

I noticed them come in but I because I need to keep up my Byakuya persona I didn't acknowledge them until they waved at me.

They were always kind to our classmates even when some were rude. They remind me of Cherry Blossoms. Token for granted, Beautiful, and free. I wish I could be free like them. I don't even know my own identity for crying out loud. I know they have struggles of their own and I wish I could get rid of my act so I could spend time with them. Usually it's Ibuki following me around when she's not harassing Mikan. It's not that I don't like Ibuki, she's really positive. But it's hard to have privacy when she's around.

Ibuki had gotten the hint that I like them and has given me advice but it's still difficult finding the courage to ask them as me. They only know me as Byakuya. I don't even think they like me.

"Hey Byakuya! Whatcha doin?" I jumped as Ibuki snuck up on me from behind

"nothing. Even if I was, it's non of your business." I said coldly, mimicking what I thought Byakuya would do if someone was as asking about what he was doing.

"well it totally seems like your thinking of them" Ibuki said with a large grin. I knew exactly who they were talking about.

"now now Ibuki. It is true that he needs to man up and not keep them waiting for so long but it's best if they take an easy and calmer approach". Mahiru, another classmate of mine walked up behind her. I could see the yellow pigtails behind her. Mikan was stumbling trying to keep up with them. I guess she fell on their way over here.

"But ham hands is totally boring and rude. Why would someone as horribly sweetening as [name] like him? I can't see the chemistry."

"well that's because you can't see most things at all with your height Hiyoko" Ibuki said laughing. Hiyoko came out from behind Mahiru and stomped on her feet.

"U-um maybe I can help? N-Not that I wanna assume you need help!" Mikan spoke up. I was curious by what she meant.

"speak up then" I said to not scare her into running away or crying. She's really sensitive so I don't want to make her feel worse the she already feels.

"we'll t-they really like going to this park with this huge Cherry Blossom tree, they've told me about it when we ran into each other. H-hopefully that helps even a little bit" "Hah! Like that would help you worthless bitch!-" Hiyoko was cut off by Mahiru scolding her.

Never did I think that a group of classmates would help me with my feelings twords them.

"okay. I think I'm ready to start my plan. Thank you guys." I say with a small smile. The girls stopped what they were doing and smiled at me- except Hiyoko who just had a smirk on her face. "I knew my advice would help. I'm a natural at dating advice".

-------

I began my plan to tell them about my feelings. I already invited them to the park that Mikan told me about. She even gave me directions. All I had to do was wait. But when I got to the park I saw that they were already there. I was surprised and nervous since I was planning on going over my confession while I waited.

"Oh, Hi Byakuya! Thanks for inviting me here. I love this park" they said with a big smile on their beautiful face.

"yes. I did invite you here. I have something I wish to say to you." They looked at me with their head tilt. "What is it?" I prepared myself for rejection and begin with what I memorized on my way here.

"Well. I want to start off by saying that I appreciate your attempts at making everyone happy and caring about them. Even me. Even though I never show it, you truly brighten my day. Your kindness twords people you don't even know that well intrigues me. You always look good without even trying. Even if you show up with bed hair. Your hobbies make my even more interested. But I feel as if I'm not being honest with myself or with you. I don't even know my identity and I already love you. It's silly I know. And it took a lot out of me to not act like Byakuya and work up the strength to ask you out so I hope you appreciate my attempt-" I was cut off when they hugged me. It was a very sweet and warm hug. The type of hug you crave in winter. I truly felt as if I was loved and appreciated for myself and not as Byakuya.

They pulled away and grabbed my face. They hands were soft. Honestly even if they weren't they still made me feel soft inside.

"well. I'm glad you feel that way. And it doesn't matter about who you were acting as. It was still you who was I was seatmates with, friends with, and now here with. Is thier anything you want me to call you instead of Byakuya?" They said with a very g*ntle and caring smile. I was taking a risk but I went for it.

"I want you to call me anything you want. I do not care what you wish to call me as long as I'm your partner and friend". I pecked thier forehead and we sat down on the grass under the cherry blossom tree. A few cherry blossom petal fell on their head. And I chuckled. Thier was ice cream nearby so I got us some.

I finally felt loved as myself by my Cherry Blossom. And I was going to make them feel just as loved.

-----------------the end--------------------------

Hey guys, so I felt like writing this because I had a pretty good day so far. This is kinda long but I enjoyed writing it. Hope y'all did too.

#Ultimate imposter x reader #Byakuya Twogami x reader #Byakuya Twogami #Ultimate imposter #Danganronpa x reader

28 notes · View notes

notmyneighbor · 29 days

Text

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 4

Word Count ~ 4.5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ minor blood and violence, sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You’ve only barely begun to recover from the wrung out feeling of ultimate bliss when you hear it: the warning klaxon, followed by the sound of tires screeching to a halt. The aggressive roar of truck engines. Doors opening in rapid succession. Loud voices and boots pounding on pavement.

The doppelgänger jerks upright, sliding off the bed and wrenching the curtains to one side to peer down at the scene unfolding on the street below. “They’re here,” he says, and for the first time you detect something like fear wafting from the imposter.

A flood of relief washes over you. Someone had alerted the disposal unit. It wasn’t too late to save lives after all.

You search for your discarded clothing, hurriedly sliding the retrieved garments back into place. Francis’ copy looks at you.

“They’ll know you let me in.”

“Yes,” you agree distractedly, hastily shoving the hem of your blouse back beneath the waist of your skirt.

“They’ll know,” he says again, more firmly this time, moving in front of you, one hand closing around the wrist you’ve yet to refasten the shirt cuff upon. “They’ll know about me.”

You stare at him, realization kicking in. The others were safe. You, however, had no such guarantee. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I should. You’re a liability.” His grip on you abruptly relaxes. He’s merely holding you now. “Your organization will punish you for this.”

You shake your head, trying to hastily tuck your hair back into place. “Not once they hear my explanation.”

The intruder scowls. “What defense will you offer? You knowingly let a replicant into your precious building.”

“I…” Your confidence wavers as you begin to consider how your actions will appear. He’s right. There’s no excuse for what you’ve done. You’ve not only failed at your assigned task, you’ve betrayed your own kind. An unforgivable crime.

He seems to read the slight panic on your features, his voice gentling. “Suppose we make a deal,” he says.

You look at him warily. “What kind of deal?”

“I make it look like you were attacked while you tried to fend me off. Make up some doppelgänger appearance when they ask you. Don’t tell them about Francis’ death. You get to live. I get to go down the fire escape, avoiding extinction.”

A life for a life, in essence. The elevator was temporarily disabled the second the alarm was pushed, but it won’t take the team long to sweep each floor. You were running out of time.

“Okay,” you reluctantly agree.

He turns your arm over so the underside is exposed, thumb pressing firmly just below the hollow of your elbow. “This will hurt,” he cautions. The only warning you get before you see it: that thing inside of the milkman breaking through, emerging. A sickly gray-green digit topped with a sharp yellow claw. He drags it right through the fabric of your shirt, right through your skin. It burns. A blossoming line of red appears, your lifeforce weeping out of the laceration. You feel lightheaded and nauseous.

“Don’t look at it. And don’t let it get on the carpet. We need to leave, now.” He steps back into the milkman’s shoes, not even bothering with the laces. You follow him to the front door, exiting the apartment. Locked again. You hear voices echoing in the stairwell, the heavy tred of the suited disposal unit pounding on the steps.

“Remember what I said.” The imitation’s knuckles graze your cheek, the touch almost tender. The injured arm cradled against your chest is throbbing. “I’m going to knock you out. It will help further disguise what happened.” The voices are getting louder. They’ve finished on the second floor, making their way to the third. The doppel’s fingers curl around the back of your neck, his mouth brushing yours hurriedly before your head is slammed against the wall, sending you hurtling into a void of darkness.

***

There is a debriefing after the incident.

No casualties. The residents were safe, excluding Francis, of course. You have a lie ready to account for his sudden absence. You say you’d heard him mention something about an emergency visit to a sick relative in a neighboring city as he’d dashed out the front door earlier that day. A phone call to his employer wouldn’t match this story, of course. You weren’t sure what family the man even had. None that would corroborate your fabrication, certainly. You were just hoping that your claim about him needing to leave abruptly very early in the morning without contacting anyone was convincing enough. It’s all you can think of on the spur of the moment.

The director, a severe looking middle aged man, frowns over the lenses of his glasses at you. You keep your hands folded tightly in your lap. Your stitched wound is slowly healing, the ache now a sort of dull throbbing that you’re consciously aware of from time to time. No apparent signs of infection, the surrounding skin clear.

“Your track record, up until now, has been impeccable.” The older man’s voice brings you out of your reverie.

“Yes, sir.” It’s true. For six months you’d performed your role as doorman perfectly. Never failing to detect a single doppelgänger. Protecting the innocent.

“Still, this is not a transgression that can simply be overlooked. The consequences of your misjudgment could have been dire.”

You’d stated that you’d realized the person requesting entrance was really a copy only after the door had been opened, catching an error on the paperwork at the last minute. Intervening, attempting to stall the intruder. Injured and knocked unconscious. You knew nothing more after that.

“It’s suspicious that none of this alleged false documentation has been retrieved at the site. Strange also that you’d been carried all the way to the third floor. We also have no record even remotely matching the description of the doppel you’ve given. How do you account for these discrepancies?”

“The replicant stated they were a new resident moving in to the vacant apartment on the third floor. It seemed plausible that there hadn’t been a chance for them to be featured on the day’s list yet. It’s hardly the first time someone’s name hasn’t been placed as it should be. The subtly incorrect DDD logo was the tip off I unfortunately picked up on too late, sir.” You pause, clearing your throat. There is virtually no moisture left in your mouth and you find it suddenly parchment dry. It’s difficult to speak, your nerves betraying you. “The replicant must have taken the paperwork with them in order to conceal the evidence. And I was knocked out immediately after being cut. I don’t remember anything after that.”

His lips press into a thin line. Your force yourself to maintain eye contact. This was your explanation and you could not falter. “Even so. You failed to follow protocol. And you failed to contact the disposal team.”

“There wasn’t time to dial the phone number. Not even time to sound the alarm. I simply reacted on instinct. I was hoping to…”

“To what? What did you think you would accomplish? You, a mere unarmed woman?” He drapes the last word in contempt. You flush, squirming in your seat at the insult.

The suited man sighs heavily, closing your file folder. “You’re going to be suspended without pay for one week. Then I expect you to return to work. Your temporary replacement is…less than ideal. Let me be clear, though: if anything else happens, you’ll be terminated. No debriefing. No excuses. Understood? This is your final warning.”

You nod, saving your sigh of relief for when you’ve exited the office. The air departs your lungs in a loud rush. You’d done it. You’d actually managed to talk your way out of it.

Your thoughts immediately shift to Francis’ doppelgänger.

He was out there, somewhere. The safest move would be to travel, to just flee the area entirely, but you doubt he’ll leave. He’s still here.

You can feel him.

***

You drive to your house, to the home of your childhood. An inheritance from your great grandparents, passed down through each generation. Outside of the city. Quiet. It’s a relief to see green again. The air smells clearer, too. No waste from factory smokestacks or concentrated exhaust from automobiles. A light scent of grass and summer wildflowers. You roll your window down, inhaling deeply. It’s the best you’ve felt in a while. Since before the incident.

Francis. Your good mood departs just as quickly as it had arrived. How terrible a person you are. Lying to save your own skin. To protect the doppelgänger that had killed your beloved milkman. Putting innocent lives at risk. You had no right to feel anything even resembling happiness or contentment. You should turn the car right back around and return to the office. Confess your sins and receive whatever punishment would be decided for you. Imprisonment, certainly. Perhaps a life sentence to match the life that had been stolen from the third floor resident.

You trudge up the steps of the porch, sinking down onto the topmost stair, your head resting against the post of the railing. There are strips of paint peeling, you notice. You’ll need to sand them down before you apply more stain. Something to occupy you during your week off. Distract you from your own misery.

You close your eyes and listen to the hum of insects. There is another scent in the air now; something damp. The sky’s clouds were white and fluffy looking, but you know those can change in an instant. You think there is a storm approaching.

Perhaps you will wait it out. Just rest here and see what happens, studying your surroundings. There are birds singing in the vacant field that hasn’t known crops for many seasons. You only tended a much smaller one close to the house. Some vegetables. That was all. More often than not the local wildlife took a sample, but you didn’t mind sharing. You should have a look before you head back inside later on, see if there is anything to harvest.

It’s comfortable here. The sun is at the perfect angle. You still have plenty of shade. Warm enough to warrant rolling your shirt sleeves back. Catching sight of the scabbed, sutured line marring your forearm. You trace the mark. You think about the copycat tracing your cheek. That final kiss before he’d knocked you unconscious. It made so little sense to let you live. Had some remnant of Francis’ psyche influenced him somehow? Urging him to spare you?

Your eyes slide closed and you drift off to sleep still mulling this over.

***

In the dream you are standing in the nearby orchard.

You know it is a dream, because in reality these fruit trees are no longer tended. Yet here you are, standing beneath the crooked branches of one peach bearing specimen. The many smooth emerald leaves shield you from the sun.

Francis is beside you.

Or not-Francis. You cannot say which it is. The smile is as you remember. The perpetually tired eyes. He reaches for one of the velvet skinned fruits, plucking it easily and handing it to you.

The texture is exactly as it should be. Not too firm and not too soft. Ripe and ready to take a bite from. You do so, your teeth sinking into the soft yellow flesh. A burst of sweetness on your tongue. The excess juice drips down your chin. You offer the peach to the milkman but he doesn’t accept, instead moving to take a taste of it from your face, first doting on your lips before he laps at the dribbling trail. You clutch his shirt and his kisses become rougher. Pushing you gently to the ground. You drop the fruit and your hands become full of his shirt, his hair, the soft earth beneath you. His mouth plants kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Hand dragging down through the floral patterned button front dress you’re wearing.

“Francis.” You reach for his face. It’s wrong. Something in the structure of the nose. So subtle it could easily be mistaken. The teeth suddenly bared in a smile that’s unfriendly. A grin of triumph. It isn’t Francis. You’ve been duped by an imposter.

The skin ripples. His eyes become bloodshot. You struggle to move. Your wrists are pinned at your sides. Sharp teeth nipping at the skin of your throat. A wolf ready to destroy its prey.

The thunder awakens you.

You jolt upright, massaging your stiff neck as you glance around hurriedly. The sky is a mass of gray clouds now, the natural illumination of the heavens notably dimmed. The air is laced with the scent of petrichor. You rise and the first drops of rain fall, pattering on your bare arms, sinking into you hair. Another disgruntled warning rumble, louder this time. The interval between that and the next shortening. You’re about to turn and enter the house when you see a figure standing nearby, on the outskirts of the side yard.

It’s him. The imposter that took over Francis.

The normally pristine, starched uniform is dirt stained, collecting souvenirs from the unpaved road leading to your house. The bowtie around his neck is loosened, draped around the unbuttoned shirt collar, the first several buttons of that work shirt similarly unfastened, revealing the white undershirt beneath. He’d never bothered retrieving the hat, the uncovered thatch of thick chestnut hair now tousled. Your fingers curl around the railing for support as he begins walking towards you with determined strides, closing the distance rapidly. The thunderstorm’s namesake harbinger sounds again. A flash of lightning. The rain is no longer a faint scattering of drops, now falling in an earnest deluge.

You both manage to escape being drenched, finding shelter beneath the porch roof in the knick of time, the imposter halting just in front of you. His chest is rapidly rising and falling, as if that brief exercise he’d just participated in was taxing him. You know that’s not the reason for those panted gasps for air, your own body mimicking that movement.

“Francis,” you say, but the name is drowned out by the growing ire of the storm.

He moves then, pressing you against the weathered clapboards near the living room window that overlooks the front yard. He cups your face between his hands and his lips crush yours. You respond without hesitation, kissing him back. Not giving yourself time to think about what you’re doing; to recall the dream you’d just had where you’d been destroyed by one of his kind.

“How did you find me?” You gasp when you part for air.

This utterance is barely audible, threaded between the next two bouts of thunder, muffled by the sound of the downpour. He slides his fingers against the harsh furrow on your arm. “I could sense where you were. Tracked you…” The words drowned out once again. His mouth moves close to your ear. “What did you say to them? What happened?”

“They bought it, for the most part, I think. The director is suspicious, though. I got suspended for a week.”

Another flash of lightning. It was foolish to remain outside any longer. You invite him in, struggling to fit the key in the lock, your trembling fingers not cooperating. His hand closes over yours, steadying you. The door surrenders, swinging inward.

It’s dark in the living room. You switch on the nearest lamp and toss your keys on the table.

“I’d offer you something to drink, but I don’t know if you still do that, or…” It was unknown what the doppelgängers consumed for nutrition. Perhaps it would be different now that they could occupy a human body and not merely disguise themselves as one.

“I do. But that can wait.”

“Did you know that would happen? You being able to trace my whereabouts when you cut me?”

“No. It’s uncharted territory. Like so much of…this,” he murmurs.

“You need to call Francis’ workplace. Explain to them that there was a family emergency. That’s the excuse I gave for the sudden absence. The DDD has been looking for you. Well, for him,” you correct yourself.

“They’ll expect me to return at some point.”

“Yes.”

“So you’ll let me in. To dwell there. And what of my brethren?”

“I can’t let them in. You know that.” You swallow nervously. “You can’t harm anyone. If I let you inside, you have to promise me you won’t. You got what you wanted. You got to be one of us. There’s no reason to hurt anyone else.”

A large clap of thunder makes you jump. The doppelgänger moves closer to you, tipping his head to one side thoughtfully. “You think I’ll cooperate?”

“We had a deal. I let you escape. I lied to protect you.”

“And I let you live. Both ends of the bargain fulfilled. There is no obligation beyond that.”

“You don’t want to hurt me.”

“Are you quite sure of that?” One arm circles your waist, drawing you against him. His fingers sift through your hair, tugging your head back slightly. “These hungers for the flesh are so distracting. How your kind manages them…” His voice trails off and his lips touch yours.

The light flickers and dies. You’ve lost electricity, now standing in the darkened room cradled by the deceiver.

“<i>The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep</i>…”

You inhale sharply, thinking of the Bible on Francis’ nightstand. Reading scripture like any good devout soul, learning verses by heart. That memory resurfacing now.

“Francis.” You know it’s no longer him, not in his purest, human essence, but this evolution still holds traces like this that you can’t help but hold dear.

“I’m here, sweetheart.” His hands slide down over the curve of your buttocks as he kisses the corner of your jaw. You guide him towards the nearby couch, watching him sink into the cushions before you climb into his lap, your shoes sliding off and falling to the hardwood floor. You run your fingers through his hair, your mouth ravaging his. It’s the parts of Francis that you love that you’re adoring, you tell yourself. Not the pretender, but the fragments of the man inside he still carries with him. That is what your fingers caress and your mouth cherishes. You unbutton his shirt the rest of the way, then reach for the belt buckle, jerking the leather strap free from the metal, all while your lips and tongue work in a frenzy over his.

The rain and the thunder becomes white noise, a nearly muted sound in the background as you unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper, the metal teeth parting to reveal white briefs. You touch his erection through that thin material, feeling the hard, thick line of it and he hisses, then groans somewhere near your neck.

“Yes, love, that’s what I need…”

You shove your hand beneath the elastic waistband and you make contact with feverish flesh. Another groan from the imposter. You sweep over the head of his cock, realizing he’s circumcised, smoothing leaking precum over the dome before you wrap your fingers around the shaft and begin stroking up and down. He moans into your mouth. It’s not the best angle, your hand a bit squashed awkwardly between your bodies. You slide off his thighs to sit beside him, never breaking contact, still pumping his prick, rolling your fingers over the crest as you reach the top, thumb dragging over the frenulum with each pass. Your tongue dances over his and you feel the arousal leaking from your own sex, soaking your panties.

Another glob of clear fluid oozes from the tip and your mouth waters. You want to taste it. Want to feel him in your mouth.

Your lips abandon his and he frowns, confused until he sees your head bowing over his lap, your body shifting as you engulf his turgid member. Another hissing sound of pleasure as the slightly musky flavor hits your taste buds. You haven’t fully taken him inside yet, only reaching close to halfway, applying suction as you move across that shallow expanse, allowing yourself to become accustomed to the length and girth of him. His fingers touch your head, not applying force, just resting there. You release his cock with a wet popping sound, stroking your saliva over his erection before taking him into your mouth again. You push deeper this time, forcing your lips closer to the base of his cock, to the nest of dark pubic hair. Your throat protests and you gag, the fingers on your head now tightening, pressing, urging you on.

“Sweet girl, that’s it, you can take it. All the way. Fuck.” The curse is something you’d never imagine coming from the milkman’s lips, but you find yourself aroused by it, the depravity of what you’re doing erotic. Your head bobs, dipping lower each time, eliciting an obscene wet squelching sound as his prick collides with your throat. There’s a higher pitch to his sounds of pleasure now. His hips lift to meet you, shoving him in as deep as he can reach while your nostrils flare, searching for a greater air supply.

Your nails dig into this thigh. The loosened belt buckle jingles with each thrust into that moist cavity you’ve provided. The fingers in your hair loosen, allowing you a brief respite. You withdraw and cough. A thick trail of saliva connects your lower lip to his glistening cock. Your fingers massage through the slick and he hums appreciatively. Your lips feel slightly numb, tingling from the stretch. There’s a burning sensation in your abused throat, a soreness when you swallow. But the discomfort is bearable. You want to do this. You want him to feel good.

You suck in a lungful of air and then begin again. You hear the replicant’s breathing becoming shallower, more rapid. He’s getting close. You redouble your efforts, moving fast and deep.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to make me…it’s so fucking good…”

His hips snap up and an acrid spill of semen floods your throat. It catches you by surprise and you choke around the pulsing erection. It’s a copious amount of seed that spills over your retreating tongue. You swallow down the last of the bitter fluid, straightening, dragging the back of your hand across your spit drenched chin.

“That was…you…” The creature is speechless. You can’t help but feel a little pride over that. He captures your lips, mulling over the taste he’s left there. “I want to taste you,” he says, and your pussy throbs. “I want you to cum inside my mouth.”

He moves off the couch, kneeling in front of you. Shoving at your skirt. You hurriedly hook your thumbs over the edge of your panties and drag them down, feeling how wet the crotch is as they drag across your legs. Scooting closer to the edge, spreading yourself open for him.

His face moves forward and his tongue parts your folds. Laving down to gather a sample of your arousal. Humming with approval at the taste of you as he focuses on your clit. A long, slow drag over the sensitive nub. You whimper. His thumbs wedge along either side of your sex, stretching the pink flesh further open. His mouth covers your cunt and he sucks and your thighs try to close, the sensation overwhelming.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re delicious.” Slurping on your clit now. You thread your fingers through his hair, caressing his head as his tongue flicks across the hooded button. He doesn’t need guidance this time. Everything is the way you like it. Dividing attention between your clitoris and the entrance of your pussy. Pushing that muscle inside, fucking you with his tongue, alternating with lapping at your bundle of nerve endings. You wish it wasn’t quite so dark. You want to see his eyes. You know he’s looking at you even if he can’t discern much in the dim gray light filtering in through the windows. Watching your reaction even as he feels it in his mouth. Hears the pleading, the needy gasps and moans, the whining that begins the closer you get to coming apart in his mouth.

He moans, too, and the vibrations of that sound add another layer to your pleasure. A finger makes its way inside you. Violated by a second soon after, thrusting while he sucks your clit. You climax, panting his name over and over, your fingers frantic in his hair, your pelvis quaking as your grind yourself against him.

Eventually your movements lessen. He eases back and your quivering legs draw closed. He rejoins you on the couch, his mouth on yours, gifting you a taste of yourself.

Then you sit quietly, listening to the diminishing storm outside. The rain drums on the roof and taps along the gutters with a soft metallic sound. Your face is tucked into the doppel’s shoulder, one hand resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, his arm curled around your shoulders.

You shouldn’t enjoy this. Any of this. You should be afraid, disgusted. Instead you feel oddly calm. Safe in his arms, even though you certainly aren’t. These alien beings were masters of deception and manipulation. You know better. It was foolish, what you were doing. Dangerous—for you, for everyone else.

But you’re convinced more than ever that some part of Francis is still buried within. The goodness of him negating the evil of this imposter.

“I’ll make the call in the morning.” The first words spoken in a long time. Your head lifts. “And I’ll move in to the apartments.”

“Just you. And you won’t harm anyone.”

“You ask for too much.”

“I’m giving up everything for you. Risking my job, my life, the lives of the people I’ve sworn to protect. My heart. My soul,” you finish with a whisper. “I don’t think you understand how many things I’m sacrificing.”

“I’m not human. It’s impossible for me to. There are no words for them in our language because they simply don’t exist.”

“But you want to be us. You should understand…”

“I will make the call and I will move in. Beyond that I am not promising you anything. Except…I do not want you harmed.” He reaches for your arm, tracing over the healing wound he’d inflicted. “I will try to prevent that, at least.”

A small concession, perhaps, but an important one nonetheless. If he was willing to spare you, maybe you could convince him to spare others.

Teach him the value of a human life while taming the monster within that wears the face of the man you love.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman #milkman x reader #milkman x you #thats not my neighbor

1K notes · View notes

thatsdemko · 7 months

Text

junipers dad- g.russell

pairings: George Russell x albon!fem!reader

fc: lyssieloooloo (from ig and TikTok)

requested: y - “What about something to do with all the pets the Albion’s have?? I think it would be super cute if George was trying to soft launch the relationship but because he’s such good friends with Alex people just assume that he’s hanging with the Albon family. And then it just culminates into either Albon!reader (or maybe Alex😂) just getting tried of George’s moping that his long planned out soft launch isn’t going to plan so they just decide to hard launch.”

a/n: a little something to lighten to mood xx— ps happy non-red bull podium!!

f1updates

liked by albon_pets, gr63updates, lilyandalexlover, & 6,794 others.

f1updates: it seems like George is hanging out with the Albon’s this weekend after Silverstone! he posted this cute picture of an albon cat ☺️

400 comments

f1lover22: I love that George and Alex hang out!

charleslechair: Alex and George two besties that can’t be separated

alblondo: is that y/n?! that’s so cute that George is friends with all of his sisters

princessgeorge: I’m also p sure that’s y/n’s cat juniper!

—

he sits cross legged in the chair, juniper sound asleep in his lap while he scrolls through Instagram for inspiration of his next launch. the last one was an ultimate fail considering half of formula one fans believed he was just hanging out with Alex. didn’t they know juniper was your cat?

“what’s got you so consumed online?” you peer over his shoulder, he’s searched high and low on the instagram tag ‘#softlaunch’ and it makes you giggle that he’s warped into introducing you properly to his instagram.

“why don’t you just post a picture of me and juniper? that way it looks more like you’re hanging out with me than with Alex.” you take the sleeping cat out of his lap, an alarmed grunt comes from her lips as you hold her in your arms for a picture.

“that outta do it right? Alex is nowhere to be seen.”

—

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, lilymhe, y/nalbon, & 77,931 others.

georgerussell63: spent some well needed time off

509 comments

albon_pets: 🐱❤️

maxverclerc: omg did George spend the weekend with the Albons?!

lewrussell: obsessed over that he and the albon siblings are friends

mercedesgeorge: everyday George proves more and more that he and Alex are still besties

—

“I don’t get it, why does everyone think we are friends?”

“well to be fair you did post a picture from junipers birthday party and everyone remembers that day.” you say it in a matter of fact tone that makes him groan as he scrolls through the comments.

albonlover: george was adopted by the albon family and I think that’s so cute

britcedes63: does he regularly hang out with them? I wouldn’t be surprised! he and Alex are really close

he shuts off his phone and watches you play with juniper. the fish on the stick being her worst enemy as she attempts to tackle it down in the air when a brilliant idea comes to his mind.

“why don’t you post me? that way everyone will be suspicious on who you’re dating!”

you roll your eyes playfully at his comment, but when you look over at him he’s handing you your phone to take a picture of him and juniper.

“if this will make you happy, then why not?”

—

f1gossiplover

liked by russbuss63, checorbr, yukisuzuka, & 7,250 others.

f1gossiplover: photo submitted by anonymous! y/n albon seems to have a new man who looks awfully similar to George?? what’s everyone’s thoughts!

300 comments

hamilton44: that’s not George that’s some imposter

gaslycharles: too short to be George

gr63babes: I know George and that’s not him

—

“what do they mean that’s not me?! that’s so clearly me in the picture.” he huffs in annoyance, phone balanced against his water bottle as he eats breakfast. the recent topic of your posts for each other is all he seems to be able to talk about, and you’d had enough. you’d really thought that semi hard launch would’ve been enough to make fans suspicious, but nobody budged.

you curse Alex for being such close friends to George, that way it was ten times harder for you to actually post the relationship like normal couples.

“why does it matter so much to you again?” you sit beside him, reaching over you take his phone and toss it into the empty chair beside you. he’d spent enough time on the device than paying attention to you.

“I just want to do it right. I don’t want to hard launch you and you realize it was too soon.”

you smile at his concerns and reach to grab his hand, “you’re too cute, Georgie, but truthfully I don’t care how you post me, but it seems to be upsetting you very much, so I have an idea.”

—

y/nalbon

liked by albon_pets, georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1, & 6,530 others.

y/nalbon: juniper enjoyed some sun with her dad @ Georgerussell63

300 comments

albon_pets: uncle George has been promoted!

georgerussell63: daddy loves you juni!

roscoelovescoco: playdate soon?

mercedesamgf1: petition for juniper to join us in the paddock?

williamsracing: not on our watch!

lewishamilton: where do I sign up to get me and Roscoe matching sweaters?

alexalbon: don’t hold your breath she’s still making George and me our matching jumpers

tags: (sorry to lazy to tag everyone just gonna tag a few) @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @oconso @motorsp0rt

1K notes · View notes

hopelesslyromanticshark · 1 month

Note

Hi I love all your works and I’m a big fan!!! I wanted to request a leo x hermes reader where the stolls and chris are being overprotective of there sister after she starts seeking around with leo 👀. Hope you have a great day thank you so much <3

⋆⭒˚.⋆ leo valdez x daughter of hermes! reader hcs

content: leo valdez x daughter of hermes! reader hcs warning: language but that's it!! author's note: as always, i stay on the hermes kids are good candid photographers grind. if i ever DONT mention that in an child of hermes reader anything, that is not me yall that is some imposter frfr. also thought i was gonna despise these but kinda fell in love frfr

you were bound to run into your brother's friends at some point

camp really isn't that big

and to say the son of hephaestus hadn't caught your eye would be a complete and utter lie

you guys first met following an amazing prank on the nike cabin, all their prized nike shoes replaced with stinky adidas

leo and your brothers came barreling into the hermes cabin to hide from the fuming children of victory, leo crashing straight into you with an 'oof'

he caught you before you could go plummeting to the ground, his adhd instincts taking over as he looped an arm around your waist and pressed the other against your back

his chest was heaving from the running but the moment he looked into your eyes, it started heaving from the rapid rate his heart was racing at

you and leo stayed like this for a few moments, frozen in love

until connor and travis cleared their throats and leo was instantly pulling his hands back, offering you a small head nod before turning to your brothers and changing the topic

your eyes stayed on leo, who shot a wink over his shoulder as he walked over with your brothers

you were basically swooning

but you knew your brothers would have your ass if you so much as thought about dating leo

and boy were you thinking about it

leo must have been thinking about it too

as a few days later, a note was slipped into your hand at the bonfire, a simple request to meet him behind the bleachers of the amphitheater

and you were just a girl, eagerly excusing yourself from your brothers and racing to the spot, smashing into leo and his lovely lips there

you and leo snuck around after that, which you were more than happy to do

the daughter of hermes not interested in lying and sneaking out??? those girl's dont exist lmao

and leo had gotten very used to quickly diving under your bed, fiddling with the springs of the mattress under there until your brothers finally left

though, with every passing day, your brothers were growing suspicious

they knew all the ways to sneak out of cabin eleven too

and they knew when you lied, your fingers tapped to a strange rhythm, a sad tic for a child of thievery to have

so, knowing it was basically your diary, they stole your digital camera

they had to do it while you were sleeping and even that was a struggle as you always slept with it under your pillow

which made sense as you were surrounded by thieves who were always eager to read your digital diary

but, with the help of quite a couple the kids that were bribed with candy from the camp store, they managed to free it from under your pillow.

the stolls and chris ran away, giving themselves a head start just in case you woke up

then they started scrolling through the camera's storage, not finding anything too juicy yet

pictures of you attempting to climb the rock wall and ultimately failing

pictures of percy and annabeth laughing fondly at the poseidon table, which you were sure to print out and gift to the couple

pictures of some flowers that the demeter had gifted to you for stealing some chips from the camp store for them

pictures of leo-

wait, pictures of leo???

strange, but nothing to phone home about, the boys thought, scrolling a little more before halting on a picture of you sitting in leo's lap, your lips slotted against his

the three of them stood in shock, just staring at the picture for a moment before looking up at each other and coming to a silent agreement

the next morning, leo woke up to the laughter of his siblings and a mirror being shoved in his face

proudly printed on his forehead in sharpie were the words 'sister fucker' and other similar things all over his body

he had to wear a hat and long sleeves that day, chiron sure to kick him out if he walked around with those words on his face

and the stolls with chris stood proudly at their table as leo walked up to them, asking him why he was wearing a sweater in 100 degree summer heat

"you know why, you little shits."

"big talk coming from the guy dating our sister behind our backs," chris bit out, glaring at the son of hephaestus

"wait- what?" you asked through a bite of your bagel, looking between your brothers and leo in confusion before it clicked and you sharpened your eyes on your brothers

"YOU STOLE MY CAMERA, YOU FUCK NUTS!" you shouted, jumping up to your feet and slapping your hands against the table

"YOU'RE DATING OUR FRIEND?? IT CALLED FOR DRASTIC MEASURES-"

"I'LL SHOW YOU DRASTIC MEASURES!! IM GONNA GUT YOU THREE!! HOPE YOU LIKE THE UNDERWORLD, GET BACK HERE!!" you shouted, chasing after your brothers, who were calling back stupid excuses.

"THEY ALSO DREW ON ME IN MY SLEEP!!" leo called, ever the instigator, smiling proudly to himself as he watched you chase your brothers around.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez

184 notes · View notes

imagine-that-100 · 1 year

Text

Chicken Shop Date

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: 18.3k

A/N: Okay so, Matty’s chicken shop date really had me and @alovesreading spiralling so we decided to make an even better version of the date. This will more than likely be 2 parts and the second part will be posted on A’s account so make sure you’re all following. We wrote this in like 53 hours and we’re super proud of it. We hope you enjoy it as much as we do, and we can’t wait to see what you think. Enjoy and thanks for reading x

| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |

Going on chicken shop dates with your favourite celebrities at one point in your life seemed like something entirely plucked from yours and your best friend’s imaginations. You guess that is all it was at one point, but you never for a second imagined it would become your job.

It’s a stupid, fun idea that you and your best friend Amelia ran with and now you’ve gone on ‘dates’ with some of the biggest stars on the planet. It was beyond your wildest dreams and it’s opened up so many opportunities for the both of you that somehow, you’re now both invited to big events that these stars also attend.

You and Amelia were both at the NME awards earlier this year, surrounded by musical legends that the both of you knew you needed to try and ask on your ‘dates’. The amount of award shows the both of you were asked to host their red-carpet shows were also insane to the both of you.

The imposter syndrome really kicks in for the both of you when you’re at these events but you both remind yourselves to use your fake confidence that you use on your ‘dates’ and it somehow gets you through. But you wouldn’t ever take for granted the opportunities the both of you were getting now.

Both of your calendars were full with work that you never imagined possible for either of you. And you’d been on dates with people like Finneas, Yungblud, KSI, and a bunch of other cool celebrities. Amelia had some good ones along the way too, and it’s been quite funny sometimes when you would argue amongst yourself of who would get the date.

Quite early on in your and Amelia’s chicken shop dates, both of you decided that you would go on separate dates with the celebrities that agreed to them. A way to keep each episode fresh with similar but ultimately different personalities as the both of you awkwardly flirt your way into getting celebrities to lower their guard and play off you.

Both of you were so happy when it worked, and you thought it would just be a fun side project for the both of you. But the guests kept getting bigger and bigger and you were able to quit your shit job because now you were earning a very comfortable living and you have so many opportunities that years ago you could only have dreamt of.

It was at the NME awards back in February that your date today was arranged. Both you and Amelia saw that event as a way you could ask people to come on your show. And whilst you were tasked with trying to make a drunk Sam Fender agree to come on the show, Amelia went straight for Matty Healy because she knew you wouldn’t have the balls to do it.

Amelia was the one person who knew just how much you enjoyed the 1975’s music and how much you have done for years. Subsequently, she liked their music too because you used to never stop playing it, but she was definitely a lot more chill about them than you.

That night at the NME awards was something Amelia truly believed she’d never forget though. When you’d gone off to talk to Sam, she went and introduced herself to Matty before sitting at his table.

It really took her no time at all to get Matty to agree to a chicken shop date as he already knew about the show and how it usually goes down. Matty agreed on the spot and he told her that they were going to release their new album sometime in October so it would have to be close to then for promo reasons.

Of course, Amelia was used to this as album promo was the reason why she’d got dates with other music artists in the past, so it made sense. And Amelia would do anything to make it work because she wanted you to have this experience of going on one of your dates with someone you actually fancy.

But what made your best friend really have to hold her grin back was when Matty asked, “Is it going to be you or Y/N doing it?”

Amelia is about to say that he can choose if he wants to but that it’ll more than likely be you doing it. But Matty answers his own question and asks again, “No offence to you, but can Y/N do it?”

“Course, I’ll be in touch.” Ameila tells him before wishing him a good night and going back to her table to get herself another drink.

By the end of that night, you both made the rounds and came back with a nice long list of people that had agreed to go on dates with you both. But considering Amelia went home with Aitch that night, she didn’t tell you about securing the date with Matty straight away.

And even when she did and you had a small, tiny meltdown over it, she kept to herself that Matty asked for the date to be with you. You just assumed that she was letting you have this date because you’ve loved the band for the longest time and she’ll let you carry on thinking that, for now. She doesn’t plan on telling you that Matty asked for you personally until after you date.

When the enquiry officially came through for the chicken shop date, Matty was quite excited about it going in his calendar. In his free time, Matty had seen a few of both of your dates.

Of course, he’d seen the ones that truly gave the both of you, your now viral audience. The Louis Theroux one got the rap going viral, so that lifted your platform up even more. Not to mention the ones where Amelia went on dates with Jack Harlow and Aitch, because she lost her composure and didn’t fully maintain her cool, unbothered character.

But in the UK the two of you definitely became well known when Amelia and Aitch started their little romance that had all stemmed from their date. Matty planned on asking what actually happened when he had his own chicken shop encounter though. But he had to admit, he was glad that it was confirmed that he would be going on his own chicken shop date with you.

It may be superficial of him to admit, but he finds you more attractive than Amelia. You really are a gorgeous girl in Matty’s eyes, and he thinks going on a date with someone he actually somewhat finds attractive will be a win for both of you. From the episodes of the show he’d seen, he thinks that you are also funnier, and he has no doubt that he’ll be able to play off you well when he’s in the hot seat on the other side of the table from you.

He met you earlier on that night at the NME Awards, before Amelia had collared him for a date, and you were even prettier in person than you were on camera. Funnier too when you weren’t in character. You told him that night that you really appreciated his music and he told you that he liked the show, but your encounter was cut short because his girlfriend came on stage to perform so he had to go and watch her.

You didn’t see each other for the rest of that night, but he was glad when Amelia came over and asked if he’d be up for a date. Initially, he thought it was a bit of a weird thing for him to agree to when he’s literally attending an event that his girlfriend is also here for, but he was really proud of his new album and wasn’t going to pass on some promo for it.

Matty would say he certainly relaxed about the date a little more when he realised it was coming up and he was freshly single. Whilst he was still a little down in the dumps about yet another failed relationship, he was excited to actually play off you on this date properly. He could freely flirt without any guilt to come with it and he was excited for it.

And today’s date seemed to creep up on the both of you all at once.

Standing outside the chosen Chicken Inn this time has you unable to stay still. After doing this for so long, the nerves were something you were used to, and you had been able to learn to keep under control but knowing that Matty was the one who would walk in at any moment was making you feel like it was your first ever date.

Usually for your dates, both you and Amelia researched your guests to get the best out of the jokes you’d make. However, you’ve known everything there is to know about The 1975 since you were 19 years old, you did absolutely no research at all for this. All you did was prep funny little gags you could make, in hopes to make the episode funny. But that hasn’t stopped your nerves at all.

You glance at Amelia, a slight hint of panic in your eyes that she didn’t miss. She blows you a kiss and gives you a tight lip smile that has you thanking everything for being able to do this with your best mate.

But that relief only lasts a few seconds as you all hear the heavy door being pushed open and you see the musician walk in as he closes his umbrella with Jamie, his manager, walking closely behind him.

Amelia and the crew are quick to greet them with “Hello!” and smiles, but the words die in your mouth.

You watch the two guests waving at everyone, to then hug Amelia and when it’s your turn to greet them, you slowly rise up from your seat.

Jamie goes first so you smile as you accept his handshake. Handshakes you could do, is what you think but when it’s Matty’s turn you feel yourself getting nervous again as he looks you up and down with a smirk before hugging you.

You were wearing heels which made you a few inches taller than him, so he decides to wrap his arms around your waist and rub your back whilst you hug him over the shoulders.

It was a surreal moment for you, to say the least, and it all gets even harder to believe when Matty says, “You look amazing Y/N.” in your ear.

You find yourself looking at Amelia for he had said that loud enough for everyone to hear and when your eyes fall on her, you see her smirking at you. You had a cheetah print top on, red leather pants and a red bandana tied around your wrist. It had been an idea you and Amelia had to dress up like the girl in the Robbers music video just for the laughs, and you had expected a joke about it not a compliment. However, you’re not even sure if it’s just a compliment or if he’s clicked that you’re dressed like this on purpose.

When you let go of each other, you look down at him and smile, “Thank you, so do you.” And it’s maybe the whole situation that has you clouding your better judgement because your hand goes to pet Matty on top of his head and he rolls his eyes.

That only makes you laugh though, his smile creeping through as he tries to act annoyed at you only making your cheeks feel warm.

You signal him to sit in the chair across from you and he obliges, handing his umbrella to Jamie and sighs when he looks up at you.

“So, the chicken shop date…” Matty trails off, adjusting his tie and then brushing his hair back with his right hand. A small strand of it falling on his forehead making you bite the inside of his cheek to not smile as big as you want to.

You nod, “The chicken shop date, exactly. Are you ready?”

Someone from the crew places your chicken boxes in front of you two, and he watches as you give them a sweet smile and thank them. It was interesting seeing you not being blunt and awkward like in the videos.

Usually, you tend to encourage your guests to start eating before the camera’s start officially rolling just to get them comfortable. And you do the same now with Matty, he’d already told you that chicken nuggets and chips, like what you eat on your various dates was fine, so you both start slowly scranning on that as you prepare him for how the interview usually plays out.

Briefly you go over what he already knows, that you’re not meaning to be rude about anything when you put your character on. It’s not that you’re not interested or not impressed by what he’s saying, it's just the unbothered, chill character you put on. And once Matty seems settled enough with you, you give the nod to your crew and get things going.

But what shocks Matty is when the director tells you they’re rolling, it's like a flip is switched. You stare down at him with a challenging expression, like you’re trying to get him to break and say something.

Only he stares back at you, trying to have you break first, but you won’t give him that. So, you lean to your side and pull out a bottle of Volvic strawberry flavoured water.

Placing it on the table, you see a massive grin break on his face as he reaches for it. You have to try and not beam at him yourself.

“Do you- Do you know about that bit? Is this an in-joke?” Matty asks, managing to keep his chill composure back.

You frown, “Is it- The what?” instead of smiling like you desperately want to.

“That I like this?” He plays with the bottle, glancing from it to you and back.

You shrug, acting all proud of yourself for the reaction you got from him. “I know.”

Matty giggles, “How’d you know that?”

Your smile manages to break through a little and you look from him to the camera to make it seem more awkward. “I just know you like that. I know your likes, your dislikes…”

“It’s like Nardwuar.” He states, clearly amazed, really thinking about how you and Amelia managed to find this out. Maybe you had reached out to one of the lads, that had to be it.

After opening your can of Tango, you bring up your can so he can clink it with his bottle, “Cheers.”

Matty does, saying, “Cheers,” as well and when you take a sip of your beverage keeping your eyes on him, you’re baffled at how this was all happening.

“You know you were late, right?” You point out after you feel like you’ve had enough of your drink.

He frowns, “No I wasn’t.”

You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed and call him out further. “That’s rude. You don’t do that on the first date.”

“I was like five minutes over time.” Matty looks at everyone behind the cameras and then back at you, as if he was trying to make sure people would back him.

You pick at your chips, fighting back. “More like quarter past.”

“It was Jamie’s fault.” Matty settles for saying, like that would make it look better.

“Why are you trying to blame someone else, I know it was your own fault.” You make a show of staring at his hair, trying to silently tell him you knew his hair took him a long while to perfect like he wanted to.

“There was traffic.” He uses it as a second excuse but you’re not having it.

“You live like ten minutes away.” You out him, “You must have set off at the time you were meant to arrive if that was the case.”

Matty asks a little worriedly, “How do you know that?”

Instead of answering, you out him like you want to, “So, how long did it take you to get ready for this date?”

Matty fully ignores your intentions to make him admit he took long to get ready and calmly switches the direction of the inquiry. “I'd like to say that I kinda dressed for the occasion but this is kinda how I dress.”

“How you dress, or how your stylist dresses you?” You use a chip to point at him.

“Isn't that the same?” At this point, Patricia and him were always talking about fashion and clothes so she didn’t even need to dress him for these types of press events, he could do it himself and know it was good and she would approve.

“It looks like you're going to a funeral.” you state with a blank face to tease him but he gives you nothing.

“Maybe I am.” Matty swiftly plays along.

So you try a different approach to have him show some emotion. “Speaking of funerals… You’re old.”

That gets him instantly, his frown so deep it almost makes you burst out laughing. “No, I’m not.”

“You are, like very old.” You insist, slowly nodding your head.

Matty sighs, “No, I am not. I was born in 198–”

But you talk over him to continue with your gag, “So you were born in 1975.”

“No.” He plainly responds, with an exasperated look on his face.

You proceed to add more to it, “You know Liz Truss was born in 1975, and DJ Khalid so you're in good company.” The slight shrug of your shoulders has him slowly turning to everyone around you two.

“I was born in the 80s.” Matty feels the need to remind everyone in the room, looking at them all and not you.

So you keep pushing it, “Yeah you were born in the 80s, keep telling yourself.” You pout at him when he turns back around to face you.

His voice raises in volume just a notch, “I was born in the 80s. I was born in 1989 and I'm still young and relevant.”

There’s a few beats of silence when you’re just staring at him with a straight face. Then you just let out a tiny sigh and say, “Sure.”

Matty has to bite his tongue. You played it so well, and the way you could so easily get on his nerves like that was making him look at you more intently. It's much more different seeing you act like this in a video than having you doing it in front of him.

He's loving every second and the date has only just started.

“You have new music coming soon.” You decide to open the conversation back up with a topic that actually really interests you but you have to take it into a different direction.

“I do.” Matty nods, flicking the salt from the chips off his fingers.

You wait to swallow the bite of chicken you had in your mouth to continue with your teasing, this time hiding it behind showing interest on his upcoming album. “So ‘Being funny in a foreign language’, is that right?”

Matty only nods, eating some of his nuggets so you continue with your bit. “Can you be funny in a foreign language?”

He rolls his eyes, swallowing his food to clear things up for you. “It’s not meant literally. It came from–”

You don’t even allow him to explain, you just plainly interrupt him. “I can be funny in a foreign language.”

He unscrews his bottle and raises an eyebrow at you. “What? Like tell a joke?”

You don’t even tell him yes, you just start speaking Spanish. And you know it’s not a joke what you’re gonna tell him but he wouldn’t know. “¿Sabes que me gustaría hacer?” (Do you wanna know what I would like to do?)

“What?” Matty asks blissfully unaware that he was answering your question.

“Me encantaría quitarte ese traje en este momento.” (I would love to take that suit off right now.) You smirk at him, biting on a chip and trying not to laugh at his naive excited expression because he had no idea what you had just said.

Amelia cackles, making Matty giggle in front of you. You feel his soft kick on your feet to encourage you to tell him, “What was that then?”

You sit up straighter, staying smug at how you just very honestly flirted with him and he doesn’t have a clue. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would.” Matty nods eagerly, and his face softens in an attempt to push you to come clean. As if his puppy eyes would break you, and they could but you had to commit to your job.

You pout in fake pity then, “It’s a shame we don’t always get what we want.”

He turns it on you, “You got me on a date with you, haven’t you?”

And you play along as sarcastically as you can, “Oh yeah, ‘cause I’m so in love with you.”

Matty laughs at that, you’re really good at staying in character. “Am I even your type?” He teases, trying to get more hints from you.

“You’re here so you have to be.” You state quite simply, and he sees the honesty in your eyes. “I’m quite picky actually.”

Something inside of him sparked but he tries to continue to play it cool. “See, I didn’t think I’d be your type.” Because Matty truly didn’t think he would be, if he only knew you were having cold sweats from being sat in front of him.

“Well, you are when you have the curls out. Not that much right now.” You eye him up and down, keeping a straight face. He looks so incredibly good though, it’d be a lie that you weren’t finding him fit as fuck at the moment. But it wasn’t a lie that his curls had always made you feel some type of way.

Matty scoffs, “You don’t like the gel?”

You contort your face to exaggerate your fake disagreement. “No, you’re not 2013 Alex Turner. I prefer the curls.”

He frowns deeply, “2013 Alex Turner?”

“Yeah, you know with the whole greaser slick back hair,” You mimic combing back your hair like Danny Zuko would in Grease and when Matty shakes his head you sigh defeatedly. “Not important. The real question is do you have a type?”

He takes a small pause, “Erm, well, I’m straight.”

“Yawn.” You reply quickly and roll your eyes.

Matty hunches a little bit and narrows his eyes at you, “You’re not?”

“No, I'm not boring like you... Anyway, so, you're straight?” You turn it back around to him, in any other setting he would try and get more out of you but glancing up and seeing the camera had him get back in character and continue talking about himself.

Matty remembers the never-ending conversation that is all over social media so he frowns annoyed, “Yeah, that's been up for debate.”

“Has it?” You frown, knowing full well it has because you’ve definitely questioned his sexuality privately before now, but you play dumb and uninterested.

“Yeah, well for a little bit, on Twitter and stuff. Just wanna say that.” He waves his hand around dismissing the relevance of said debate.

You smile then at the very lame play of words that come up to your mind, “You’re setting the record straight.”

“I’m setting the record straight.” Matty repeats, stealing a glance at the camera before looking back at you, “So, girls.”

“So just any kind of girl?” You ask for clarification, knowing you’d get something funny out of him.

He stutters for a bit until he finds his words, “But I do like hot women, hot girls.”

“Yeah,” You shake your head like you're unimpressed but equally you agree, “I know you like hot girls, yeah.”

“That's alright.” Matty adds calmly, not seeing anything inherently wrong with admitting that.

You give him an up and down, and then tilt your head slightly to the side as in disapproval, “Quite predictable, I think.”

“You know, you’ve gotta enjoy your life.” Matty goes for a chip as he stands his ground, and you look very closely at his every move.

“Yeah I know, I like hot girls too.” You agree entirely, but you grimace when you ask, “But what about funny, what about interesting?”

The chip he puts in his mouth is sticking out the side of it while he agrees with the point you’re trying to make, “Oh yeah, funny and interesting is cool.”

“Yeah, yeah but hot is better?” You watch him nod as he fully eats the chip.

His nods don’t stop, “Hot is definitely the most important thing.”

You avert your eyes then, feeling yourself about to break character. It’s getting to you how bizarre this whole situation is and how your job is to flirt with the man you’ve fancied for almost a decade. What is your life?

You half heartedly smile, sounding offended and uninterested as you say, “Okay, that's great.”

“Listen, you're gorgeous.” He states quickly, staring at you while he brings the bottle up to his lips.

You very quickly interject, “But am I hot?”

“Yeah, you’re hot,” Matty’s quick answer almost makes you lose your cool but you somehow maintain it. Matty’s about to take a drink when he continues, “But I'm going on tour for a very long time.”

“What, so you're not available?” You ask, like it’s an inconvenience to you.

“Like I said before,” Your date reminds you, “I didn't think I would be your type.”

You sigh like you’re already tired of reminding him he is definitely your type, “You’re literally on the other side of the table on a date with me, Matty.”

His eyebrows raise and the corners of his lips fall as he nods, “I did agree to it.”

You smile at him then, a soft one that has all of his attention drawn on you. “And if you stop gelling your hair I'll agree to see you when you get back from tour or, you know, I could come along and be your… Groupie.”

He holds back his laughter, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he does so and you can’t ignore the way your tummy flutters at the sight so your lips slightly raise in a smile. “For a second, I genuinely felt a flirt before you did that bit.”

“What no.” You half smile and your composure breaks seconds after he does.

Matty nods, a smile on his lips, “That was actually a thing.”

“No I was,” You try to come back from it but you’re slightly too flustered, “Was good.”

You desperately want to smile at his smile. But thankfully you muster up enough to make your face blank again even though the man across the table for you is making it hard.

“I get it now,” Matty leans back in his seat and smiles, “So you actually do flirt with people.”

“Yeah, I'm like a really good flirter. That's one of my special… Skills that I can do…” And you don’t know why you say it because you know you’ll embarrass yourself, but you can’t stop yourself from adding, “Amongst other things.”

“Other things?” Matty grins at that, and raises his eyebrows, clearly interested as he asks, “Like what?”

You take a deep breath to stop the smile that's pulling on the corner of your lips, but to give an answer but also not give an answer, you push your tongue to your cheek and tilt your head to the side a bit.

Matty smirks at that and gives you knowing eyes. But thankfully he doesn’t tease you more because he just crosses his arms and leans forward to rest them on the table before asking you, “Did Amelia actually go out with Aitch?”

And you lose all composure and burst out laughing after a few silent seconds of staring at his cute grin.

Making you lose yourself has Matty’s grin getting even bigger. Regardless of him knowing that this would be a part you cut from the final edit of the date, he had broken your character for the briefest of moments and it was joyous for him to see.

He endeavours to do it again before your date is over.

“We can talk about that later.” You promise him, as you get your cool again.

Matty watches as you slip back into your character and your shoulders relax as you pick up another one of your chips to continue the date. He’s impressed by the ease in which you switch back and how you could just pick up where you left off like nothing had happened.

Getting back to your food, you ask him before having another chip, “What do you think is like your least attractive trait that you have?”

It surprises you just how quickly Matty replies, “Probably my personality?”

But you have to hide it, agreeing with him like it was the most factual statement he’d ever said, “Mmm yeah.”

“Yeah.” He agrees along with you.

“Speaking of your big personality…” You lead on to the next gag you want to make, because there’s no way you’re doing a purposefully awkward interview and not bringing up the fact he’s still not done something.

You continue to tell him, “We saw you at Reading. Amelia and I.”

He hums and takes a gulp of his drink, “Did you like the set?”

You force yourself to act like you hadn’t screamed every lyric of his from the very start until they left the stage. “It was alright.” You shrug, looking down to grab another chip, “You didn’t play my favourite.”

“Which is?” Matty was intrigued now, he would’ve guessed he had definitely played everyone’s favourites that night.

“Antichrist.” Your eyes don’t leave him so you see the way his face falls.

His eye roll and groan was automatic, “Oh for fucks sake.” he swears under his breath.

You also add another controversial moment that you remember the press had gone wild over, “And Amelia didn’t like the spit on the camera.”

Matty catches onto the mention of only your best mate to tease you, “Only Amelia didn’t like it?” And when you nod, he smirks, “So you enjoyed it?”

You shrug with a blank expression on, giving absolutely nothing away, “Maybe.”

And before Matty can say anything during this now hilariously funny awkward silence that you’re trying not to smile at, you move the subject quickly on.

You take a breath before you say, “You’ve tweeted about doing a podcast.”

“Yeah.” Matty confirms.

But without missing a beat, you plead, “And I was gonna say, like, please don't.”

“Yeah, no, it’s probably good advice.” Matty says after a little giggle.

“You’d just make it all about yourself and we just don’t need that. Society would be good without… more.” Your hand awkwardly moves in the air as you try to point at him.

Matty fully ignores the insult so he can flirt again, liking the way you were forcing your smile back just a minute ago. “I reckon you’d make a great podcast.”

A smile breaks out on your face, and your hand comes up to your chest as you reply, “Oh, why, thank you.”

Nodding, he continues to reassure. “You have a nice voice. You could actually have me paying attention to any topic you’d talk about.”

“Even if it’s just Kardashian gossip?” You try to keep it funny, ignoring the way his comments are making you feel.

His eyes don’t leave yours when he says, “If it’s you talking then I’d have it on constantly.”

You really hope you aren’t visibly flustered because that comment has certainly made you feel some type of way that you have to push every thought relating to it to the back of your mind. “Are you saying you want to hear my voice on a daily basis?”

“I wouldn’t hate it.” Matty shrugs with a smirk.

You have to subtly bite your bottom lip to keep your expression collected. “I’ll talk to my agent, we can arrange that.”

But Matty glances down at your lips when you do it and you catch him as he didn't meet your gaze until after you finished that sentence. Your heart skips a beat, he’s making you want to ask for a break.

So you raise an eyebrow at him, a silent questioning for his actions but Matty only keeps his smirk on his face which has you sighing and reaching out for a sip of your drink.

To get the conversation flowing again, you take from what he’d just said about paying attention and ask him, “What were you like in school? I can imagine you were a loud one.”

Matty chuckles and nods to confirm that one. But then he sighs as he starts giving you the details of a young Matty Healy, “I didn't really concentrate at high school cause I saw it in the way of, kind of, getting in the way of my… Visionary genius.”

“You've always been a genius, would you say?” You ask, eyebrows raised, fully playing along like you believe him.

“I wouldn't call myself a genius, I-”

Interrupting, you point out, “You just did.”

“Well, I described my… So yeah, I've always been a genius.” Matty concedes and lets the joke roll which has you unapologetically smiling at him.

“But, so school was annoying.” Matty raises his eyebrows when he asks you, “Imagine being a genius and having to go to school?”

Shake your head slightly, blankly stating but with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips, you tell him, “I wouldn't have to imagine.”

There’s another few seconds that pass where you can tell just by the way your date is looking at you that he’s finding what you do impressive. And you can almost see the cogs working together in his brain so he can piece by piece get where he wants to lead this next.

But you’d never have imagined that he would come out and say, “I do genuinely find you quite attractive, to break the fourth wall.”

At this you really try to hold your smile, because hearing that is your teenage fantasy come true almost ten years later. You swear your heart starts beating faster and your stomach feels like it’s doing somersaults.

You can quite literally feel yourself screaming on the inside, not to mention Amelia’s eyes burning into the side of your head. Best friend telepathy is real as you’re sure you can feel her screaming at you inside her mind.

“It's a weird concept…” Matty looks from you to the crew and Amelia before back to you, “This is quite meta, this is kinda like high art.”

You smile and nod like he’s cracked an enigma, telling him plainly before taking a bite of a nugget, “Dating me is an art.”

Matty chuckles, “I’m sure it is.”

“So if you find me attractive,” You lean forwards a bit before you quote his song at him in an awful attempt to flirt like your character would, “How about we go, where nobody knows?”

“Oh wow,” Matty rolls his eyes, clearly understanding the reference but he’s far from impressed by it. Regardless though, he leans forwards as he plays along and sarcastically asks, “Shall I hide a gun under my petticoat?”

“Will it be a gun or will you just be pleased to see me?” You ask with a suggestive eyebrow raise before you eat the last bit of your chicken nugget.

Matty once again stares you down and as you chew your food you do exactly the same back to him. You’re not giving up after that great line and you can tell he’s dying to laugh. As are you really, but that’s just because he played right into your hands. You have this man right where you want him and he knows it.

However, you change up the game very quickly when you break eye contact to look down to grab another chip. When you meet those brown eyes of his again, you take a bite of your chip and state, “You're an Aries.”

All amusement falls from his face then and he visibly deflates, closes his eyes and sighs, “Oh god.”

“What? So are you not into astrology?” You ask like you can’t believe such a thing, but you knew this man so well, it was painfully obvious he hated it.

Matty looks at you with a face that’s begging you to be taking the piss. “Are you?”

“How do you know your big three then?” You remember that time he tweeted about his sun and moon sign.

So he rests his elbows on the table and leans on his hands to take a closer look at you. He’s smugly smirking as he asks, “You’ve been keeping up with my tweets?”

You don’t know how but you manage to stay still, hiding the fact that the new distance between you wasn’t making your heart rate rise. “They show up on my timeline from time to time.”

“I bet you have my notifications on.” Matty plainly states, a grin on his face.

You frown lightly, bringing back your teasing around. “You write some mad things there though.”

“Well that’s me, isn’t it? The same thing happens in my songs.” He shrugs as he pushes himself back to sit straight.

You hum, feeling calmer at the increase of distance. You ask like you don’t know each of his songs word for word, “Right… What’s that one about bursting into someone’s hand?”

“Part of the band.”

You snap your fingers and point at him, “That’s the one.” You bring in a joke then, to alleviate the tension you were feeling. ”You know, I prefer oat milk.”

It took everything in you to hold back the joke you actually wanted to make, about how he could burst into your hand anytime he wanted. That would have been one step too far considering you’ve only met him twice.

It takes him a minute to realise why you’ve said that but when he catches up on it, a snort leaves him and the sound makes you smile.

“That reminds me… Good for you.” You start back up, remembering something else from the song.

Matty’s face falls in confusion again, “What?”

“1400 days, 9 hours and 16 minutes? I wouldn’t be able to do it.” And whilst you’re actually really proud of him for that, you feel the need to make him laugh with a twist on the line.

He offers a tight lip smile, taking it very literally “Oh, thank-” But you interrupt him and finish your joke.

“You’re basically a virgin again.” You add, gasping slightly like it’s impressive.

Matty stays still for a few seconds before shaking his head, his expression showing how unimpressed he was about your joke. It’s not that it was too far though, or else he would’ve stopped you right there. “No that’s not-”

But you interrupt once more, “I’ll get you a purity ring next time I see you.” You promise with a smile, which has him shaking his head as he tries not to laugh.

You give yourself a few seconds to enjoy the moment and then you’re back resuming the conversation. “What’s your favourite lyric? That you’ve written?”

He sighs, trying to come up with an answer from the top of his head but he just can’t. “There's too many to remember. Do you have any favourites?”

He really is trying to get some more out of you even if it was through analysing your preferences on his music. And you do have favourites, but you’re not playing right into his hands.

You press your lips together before telling him like it pains you to reveal, “There's almost too many words.”

“Yeah,” Matty nods, “I tried to cut down on the too many words on this album.”

“Really?” You ask, and when he nods almost a little upset about it, you drive the point home by asking again, “Do people say, just please stop with the words.”

Matty fights the urge to chuckle, “To be honest, yeah.”

“Yeah.” You nod like you agree although inside you want to tell him to never stop.

“Because it does get a lot but I've been quite… okay, my favourite lyric at the moment is ‘I’m in love with you’.”

“Awh,” You smile sweetly at him, “Thanks.”

Matty put you in your place, “No, I wasn't talking to you. I was just saying-”

And because you knew that was coming, you ultimately have to shoot him down and scorn him, “That’s your favourite lyric you’ve ever written? ‘I'm in love with you’?”

Matty rolls his eyes at your tone, “I’m just trying to be earnest and open, and you've just said my lyrics are pretentious.”

You act annoyed at his victimisation, “I’m just saying out of all the lyrics to pick, you've chosen ‘I’m in love with you’ which anyone could say and people do say all the time.”

Matty smiles at that and simply says, “Exactly.”

Entirely unimpressed with that answer, you give him a disinterested look before asking, “So where’s George?”

He takes a sip of his flavoured water, looking up trying to genuinely think about an answer but he has nothing for you, “Not sure actually.”

“Why don’t you know where your best friend is?” Your face contorts, acting like his lack of knowledge on the matter was the most ridiculous thing.

But Matty frowns back at you, curious about the random inquiry. “Why do you want to know where my best friend is when you’re on a date with me?”

“Because I want to go on a date with his girlfriend.” You state calmly like the answer was as clear as day.

Matty continues to play offended, “And you're telling me this as you're on a date with me, why?”

“Because it could be a really nice pairing for us”

He tries to join the dots then, “For us? Like a double date.”

But you take him completely aback when you answer, “If a double date is in the bedroom then sureee...”

It was a miracle his jaw didn’t drop but he was frozen staring at you with a chip midair on the way to his mouth. “I didn’t take you for one to fuck on the first date.”

“Well you don’t know me, do you Matty?” You bite back, daring him with your eyes.

Matty was quick to talk back at you though, “You know me then Y/N?”

And you could say yes, because there’s a lot you can learn by following them for almost a decade but he didn’t need to know that.

“Touche.” Is what you say back, and you know he’s smirking at you but you’ve just let your eyes fall to your chicken box so you could take a little breather.

It seems that your date does the same because the both of you dig around your take out boxes for a brief moment. You absolutely love that you get paid to eat chicken nuggets and chips.

You decide to divert away from your prompts for a moment and ask him something you’re actually genuinely curious about, “Are you needy?”

“Yeah, we're all a bit needy.” Matty tells you honestly.

“Yeah.” You nod as you dig for another good chip, but as you do that you see Matty’s hand scoot towards your takeout box and you look up at him confused.

Pausing, you see as he awkwardly retracts his hand but then places it down again as if he’s not just been caught.

You whisper, trying not to let your amusement seep into your voice, “Did you just try and touch me?”

“Well I- I thought- There has to be a moment,” As Matty stumbles on his words you offer your hand out to him and bite the insides of your cheeks to stop from smiling as he continues, “So it's like, ‘I'm a bit needy’.” and you have to stop yourself from screaming when his warm had takes your cold one.

“See and now we-” Matty starts but you interrupt him.

“Your hand is warm, my hand is cold.” You almost gasp at how warm his hands are and you hold onto his hand a little tighter.

“See,” Matty takes your chilliness as proof that, “You're nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” You lie through your teeth, although you’re sure nerves don't make you cold. “I’m deoxygenated.”

Matty looks a little repulsed when he checks, “You're deoxygenated?”

“Yeah.” You nod, “That’s what being cold is.”

Matty says nonchalantly, “That’s a turn off.” And he lets go of your hand.

“Oh sorry,” You scoff, offended like you had even a chance with him anyway. And you sarcastically add, “I’ll breathe better for you.”

Sarcasm drips from his voice, “Gee, thanks.”

“Why don't you just buy me some…” You trail off, not really knowing where to go with this now.

“What?” Matty asks, completely baffled, “Oxygen?”

“No, a heated blanket or something,” You add in a little flirt, “To keep us both warm.”

“Or some gloves.” He shoots you down again.

You pause for a second then before you release a disappointed sigh, “Alright then, I guess we won't cuddle later.”

“I’m just thinking about your other dates… They could get jealous and not come on.” Matty uses that as his out and you decide to play along for now.

You hum in agreement, “I suppose.”

As you pick up another chip, Matty asks you, “Is there anyone else, like Drake you've got like- Has like anyone else cool said they wanna go on a date with you.”

“Err.” You think about what's coming up on your calendar.

But Matty says, “This is kinda like your slut era.”

“Well,” You grin and nod excitedly, “I actually think in 2023 I'm going to be even more slutty.”

Matty slowly nods and is quiet for a second before he says, “Wow.”

There was a strict no referring to Matty’s recent ex girlfriend, FKA Twigs, in the brief for this interview but absolutely nothing about referring to the ones before that. So you go in hard with it.

“Really hoping to get Halsey on here.” You smile brightly, and you pick up your can of Tango and offer it to him as a ‘cheers’ as you say, “Congrats for making it to twenty-eight, by the way. Rude of her to think you wouldn’t.”

Matty knocks his bottle of Volvic against your can and you take a sip just after you admit, “You know, with you coming on this date, I was really hoping to experience that religion she chats about.”

You flirt proudly and you love the way he smirks back at you. But you deflate his massive ego when you tilt your head to the side and continue, “Little embarrassing you need those blue pills to help you though.”

Matty immediately shakes his head, defending himself quick, “That was not-”

“Don’t worry, I will be taking the piss for how she says lilac.” You interrupt in a very dry and disinterested voice. You look into his eyes and sadly nod, “I can see why that relationship didn’t work just from that.”

Matty maintains a straight face but you slowly see a smile creeping on those lips of his. You do him a favour and say something else before he breaks.

You sit up a little bit straighter, with an excited grin on your face as you tell him, “I also can’t wait for my date with Alex Turner now.”

“Oh, you got Alex Turner to agree to this?” Matty asks, genuinely surprised at hearing that name fall from your lips.

“Well, not yet,” You smile sweetly, “But seeing as the two of you both date the same women, I have faith.”

Matty pauses at that and you think you might have pushed it too far. And you really have to clench your teeth together to stop yourself from apologising too quickly or ruining the gag. Because you found that fucking hilarious and you’re really hoping he would have done too.

But this long pause he’s doing where he’s just staring you down has you worried. And you don’t think you’ve ever felt relief like it when he breaks and smiles.

“That was a low blow.” Matty grins and he scorns you as he points a chip at you before he eats it and both of you laugh, needing to break the tension.

“I know you'll cut this bit,” Your date informs you, and he smiles as he says, “But I could get you the date with Alex, Wheels would kill to see it.”

You smile at that and at the mention of his nickname for his ex-girlfriend who is married to Alex Turner now. You’ve always found it quite cute that he is still really close friends with her, and she’s such a good artist, you would love to have her on the show. Which you don’t even hesitate to tell him.

“I would like to go on a date with her too, to be honest.” You smile.

And Matty knows just how much fun the two of you would be in a room together, so he promises with a grin, “I’ll hook you up later.”

You hum, accepting the help. “Maybe I should have Ross here. He’s fit.”

Matty, who was about to pop a chip in his mouth, pauses his actions for a second before continuing with a nod. “Yeah he is. He’d hate this though.”

You pout at the news, “Awh well. Oooo, what about George? George and Charli…”

He’s fully offended then at the second mention of his best mate, and the now erasure of his name when you talk about going on a date with George and Charli. “What? So I’m out of the double date now?”

You wince, “Well…”

But then Matty remembers watching a Chicken Shop Date with Charli so he frowns in confusion, “Didn't Charli come on a chicken shop date already?”

“With Amelia, that isn’t with me, is it?” your voice comes out sharp, like you were angry at the reminder you didn’t get to go on a date with her.

Matty raises his hands, “Oh, sorry.”

And then you just further play into the exasperation act, “Get your facts straight before you question me in future, god.”

It’s the way you sigh, absolutely done with the situation that has Matty containing his breath so he doesn’t laugh but you look at him, cheeks blown but the chuckles trying to come through and you just can’t not burst out laughing with him.

Hearing Amelia laughing with you and the crew not being able to hold their giggles back has you unable to calm down for the next minute. You let your head hang, silently laughing, so your hair covers your face.

You’re sure you’re blushing, so you try to gather yourself before showing your face again.

When you do though, your cheeks are still hot and when you fan yourself as you sigh, Matty smiles seeing you flustered.

“Right, okay.” The singer hears you mutter under your breath and when you brush your hair behind your ears, you’re back in character.

“Do you like taking risks?” You ask after taking a small bite of a chicken nugget.

Matty had picked one up as well and he takes a bite of his, nodding. “I like taking risks in my art more than in my life.” He quite likes this question, but he knows that he’s in for a change in direction, that’s what you do best.

“Like black and white music videos.” You add with dull enthusiasm.

Matty narrows his eyes at you, dropping the half eaten chicken nugget back inside his box, “Lots of people have done that.”

“Have they?” You quickly ask, frowning.

He looks at you like he's worried, as if he's not sure if you're joking when he confirms, “Yeah.”

“I thought you invented that.” You say with honesty laced in your words.

And there it goes, he thought. “Yeah and then neon.”

Your face lights up, “Yes, I heard you invented neon.”

“Tumblr was my idea.” Matty continues to list, and you nod like it was common knowledge. “Doctor martens.”

You smile and tilt your head then, uncrossing your feet and swinging them enough to know you’ve hit his. “Got mine on. Very comfy, you designed them well.”

Matty looks down, leaning back to see under the table and he shakes his head seeing you're wearing the heeled version. He tells you, “Gotta get them off, you're taller than me in them.”

“Well you can take more than my shoes off if you fancy.” You dare him with a raise of your eyebrows.

He groans in response and you sigh, “Don’t act like you aren’t gonna write a song about this later.” You pop a chip in your mouth and stare at him.

Another concerned look shows up on Matty’s face and he sarcastically replies, “Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“What is it gonna be? ‘She took a video of us eating chicken and put it on the internet’?“ You almost blush, that was the cringiest thing you could’ve ever said.

Matty slowly looks up from his food, and fakes appreciation for the line you half stole from him. “That’s a very good line actually. I’ll pinch that one, but sorry, I don’t give credit.”

You feel the need to interrogate him for that, “Is that how it usually goes then? You have someone tell you lyrics and you just take them and say it was all you?”

He nods, unapologetic of his fake admission. “Pretty much.”

“No, but really how does it usually go?” You ask as genuinely as you can whilst staying in character. You want to start your next planned bit but he had to be unaware of it so you could get his best reaction. “Could you just tell me a bit about your songwriting process?”

“I suppose that I sit there, and I…” Matty starts then and you pull out a pack of Richmond Super Kings from your coat pocket.

As you’re pulling a fag and the lighter out, you notice Matty’s stopped talking. You look up at him and see he’s watching you, confusion written all over his face for you to see.

You tell him, “Sorry, carry on.” as you put the fag between your lips and light it with ease.

If Amelia was doing this interview, you know that this bit would have been hilarious because she doesn’t know how to smoke. But you used to smoke in your teens and you still partake from time to time so lighting up really isn’t an issue for you.

“I kind of look at the news… And I think about what's happening…” Matty continues to tell you, but you're paying him no mind now.

When you edit the video, you’ll be putting this bit in black and white so you’re fully pretending to be in a music video. But what both you and Amelia both thought would be funny, was that you should try and do smoking tricks.

So as your date continues with his songwriting spiel, you somehow manage to conjure up the muscle memory of doing a smoke ring. And when you do it, you sit up a little taller feeling proud of yourself.

Impressed, Matty stops to tell you, “That was cool.” as the both of you watch as the ring slowly gets bigger and eventually disappears.

“I am cool,” You smile at him, but instruct him to, “Carry on.” as you take the next drag of the cigarette.

But you should have just quit while you were ahead because when you try and do the thing Matty does all the time in the videos that you’ve seen of him, where he dangles it from one corner of his mouth and breathes the smoke out from the other side but it doesn’t work.

“And think about what's funny… And I think about how I'm feeling.” And Matty abruptly stops and he watches your struggle.

You look up at him and ask, “Is that right?”

“You don't need to do this.” Matty looks and sounds like he feels sorry for you.

You try and look down at the cigarette but ask point with your hands at the direction you want the smoke to come out of your mouth from, “How do you do it when it comes out of that side? I could never do it.”

“Give it,” Matty demands leaning forward to take the fag from you, “I’ll show you.”

You watch as he puts it between his lips and he looks like he’s just put it further into his mouth so the filter is almost against his teeth. Matty begins to explain, “So, like that-”

“Yeah, I knew that,” You lean across and take it from between his lips and when you do it, to make it worse, you purposefully don’t do it right and you know your mouth is practically fully closed. You just prompt Matty, “Yeah, carry on.”

He looks like he’s hurting himself by watching your struggle, “No, because your lips are closed in the-”

You interrupt and just about mumble with your mouth closed, “Just carry on.”

And when Matty deflates and closes his eyes, letting his head hang as he says, “I sit there and I think about the world and about myself and I write.” it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing at his defeated disposition.

“Right I- I-” You stumble on your words as you take the fag out of your mouth and waft away the smoke, “This is really not me anymore.”

“This is never gonna work.” Matty sighs as he watches you stub the cigarette out in your food.

“I just.” You begin to defend yourself as you continue to put the fag out on one of your chicken nuggets, but then Matty offends you.

He simply states, “So unattractive.”

“That was attractive,” You defend yourself, as you look back up at him, “And this was a lesson for you.”

Matty makes a slicing his neck hand gesture a few times, but you just talk over him, “Don't smoke.”

He giggles at that which has you breaking character for a second too because that was a tragic section and you know you’ll cringe watching that back later. But then your date grabs your attention again.

As he picks up the pack of fags from the table, you quietly tell Matty, “Those are fake cigarettes, by the way.”

“They are fake cigarettes?” Matty asks significantly louder, which has the both of you laughing a bit.

“Amelia thought I could get arrested or something if I smoked inside.” You laugh and you have no control over it anymore, you just let yourself continue laughing at the situation.

Matty looks down to the ground and starts laughing with you, which has your giggles dying down as you press your lips together to not smile as big as you wanted to.

When he looks back up at you, Matty finds you just looking at him and he takes the opportunity to take his time and do the same. He twirls the strand of hair falling over his forehead as he keeps his gaze on you and you bite your tongue to keep yourself from blushing under it.

He looks at your clothes again, catching the look of the red bandana tied around your wrist. His eyes go up and down and then it suddenly clicks for him. “Oh, I've just now got it.”

“Got what?” Matty really takes his time to stare at you, which makes you feel slightly uneasy but now you’re just confused.

“You’re dressed like the girl from the robbers video.” He points out, rolling his eyes amused at the effort to make a reference with your clothes.

You hold back a laugh, and your eyes widen to play being so stunned at the speed of his thinking. “Wow, you are truly the einstein of your generation. We’re like twenty minutes into our date and you’re just noticing now.”

“I like the twist to it. I love the leather.” And Matty truly means it, the red leather pants look amazing on you.

You finally are able to play on the joke that you’d dressed up like this for, “I feel like maybe we should recreate the music video. You know, do an updated version of it.”

Matty keeps his expression blank as he meekly asks, “Is this just you trying to get me to kiss you through a bandana?”

“Yeah you caught me.” You shrug, without a hint of excitement on your face.

“So is Robbers your favourite then?” He shifts in his seat, actually wanting to know about your favourite song of theirs.

“The video?” You ask and he nods, not really meaning only the video but it was a start. You continue to lie through your teeth as if it didn’t somehow shape you as a person, “Oh yeah, it’s great if you love a shitty plagiarised version of a classic.”

It wasn’t what Matty was expecting, but just as he was about to open his mouth to get back at you, you went for him again, “It’s kind of like you! Aren’t you just a watered down version of Adam Levine?”

Matty glares at you then, completely unimpressed by your teasing. And just because he was still curious about your favourite, he ignores you and brings the topic back around.

“In all seriousness, do you have a favourite song of mine?” Matty asks, genuinely wanting to know.

“Why?” You ask hopefully, “Are you going to sing it to me?”

“If you want me to?” Matty shrugs slightly amused, “What’s your favourite song?”

You think about it for a moment, before you settle on, “Undo.” not entirely because it’s your favourite but you know where you can go with it.

Matty’s face falls, expecting something fun like It’s Not Living, so he has to ask, “You want me to sing Undo to you?”

“Yeah.” You nod, “Just the chorus.”

“How does that even go…” Matty’s eyes go wide as he thinks to himself for a second, before he starts singing quietly, “I wanna see you undo it, I wanna-”

You interrupt to tell him, “I wanna see you undo my leather pants too.”

Matty bites his cheek then, as he really should have seen that one coming. Both of you end up staring at each other again until you tell him another one of his tunes.

“I like that song you start most of your albums with.” You say as you pick up another nugget and take a bite.

“Oh,” Matty nods understanding which you mean, before he starts singing, “Go down, soft sou-”

“Yeah, you can.” You interrupt again, this time really having to stop yourself from grinning.

Matty frowns as he’s clearly confused, “What?”

“Go down on me…” You say a little quieter, and you pause for a few seconds before you say, “You can.”

He’s taken aback by this, and you watch him as he leans back blinking slowly. A little, “Oh.” is the only thing that falls from his lips in response.

“Please.” You say quickly before leaning back into your seat and taking a long drink so you don’t break character.

And when you get no response, as the man across from you is keeping his cards very close to his chest, and you feel like you could crack up at any second, you decide it’s best to wrap up.

“Matty,” You smile, “This has been really fun.”

But your date shocks you when he says, “I’ll go on another date with you.”

“Oh.” You say and Matty can hear the surprise in your voice. You even sit up a little straighter, liking the sound of that, “Okay.”

You’re fucking buzzing that you didn’t have to ask yourself.

And when Matty even asks, “If you want?”

You hum in agreement and smile a little, but then you see him offer his fist bump you and you frown at him like he’s just ruined this whole date.

“I don't wanna fist bump you.” You frown at him, almost like you’re cringing.

And he makes it worse when he mimes spitting into his hand for you to shake, and you shake your head and look at him like he’s an alien, “No, don't spit in your hand.”

And then your stomach drops when he puckers his lips and points up to them.

Embarrassment gets you quickly as you awkwardly say, “No, I can’t. I don't wanna kiss you.”

He surprises you when he asks an almost offended, “Why?”

“Because I just smoked a cigarette.” You say without missing a beat hoping that would be the end of it.

“Come on.” Matty grins, now leaning forwards on the table.

“I'm not, no.” You say a little louder, getting embarrassed now as he’s grinning at you.

He encourages with a big grin, “Come on.”

“No.” You shake your head as you begin to panic.

“Come on.” He’s enthusiastic now and you really can’t function anymore.

You just hold your breath, not knowing what to do as Matty stares at you. You half think he’s joking but then he very seriously says as he looks into your eyes, “You’ve gotta commit to the bit, let's do an earnest kiss.”

You look down, having to breathe for a short second before looking back up into those brown eyes of his. He’s grinning like a fool as he says, “Let's kiss, for real, right now.”

You take a second to think if you can do it, and ultimately you decide that you can’t. “No.”

Matty pauses and just stares you down for a few seconds until you crumble into your next excuse, “I can’t reach.” You shrug.

“I can reach.” Matty challenges.

You shake your head a little, “I can’t reach you.”

“I can reach you.” Matty repeats and as he starts to stand up to get closer.

“I can’t reach.” You say again and he gets closer, almost too close for your unprepared self. So you quickly hold your finger up and put it against his lips, “Okay wait, let me prepare myself.”

“Come on,” Matty encourages, “Don’t be pathetic.” but he’s saying it with the biggest smile as he sits again.

You take a breath and look down before you look back up and see the mischievous grin still on his face. ‘You can do this Y/N, come on’ You tell yourself and after a deep breath you put on a brave face.

“Okay,” You lean forwards and rest your elbows on the table like he is and you’re desperately trying not to get more embarrassed.

You can’t pussy out of this one because you’ll never forgive yourself and you know you’ll never hear the end of it from Amelia. And you truly don't want Matty to think you’re pathetic.

“I'm not doing the work,” You tell him, letting your flustered self be free now, “You do the work.”

“It’s 2022,” Matty frowns, but a smile is tugging at the corners of his lips when he asks, “Shouldn't you be doing the work?”

You say the first thing that comes to mind, “I did the work, I asked you on the date.”

Matty corrects you, fully smirking now, “Amelia actually asked me on this date.”

“Okay, I paid for your food, you kiss me, I think that's fair.” You point out, and you can feel your cheeks getting hotter by the second at the mere thought of him about to kiss you.

And when he doesn’t move for a solid five seconds, and you're getting more flustered and embarrassed at the thought, you snap and ask him, “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

“God, shut up.” Matty sighs before he picks himself up and leans across the table to kiss you.

The moment his lips touch yours, you’re sure your heart goes into cardiac arrest. Never in a million years did you think this date would lead to Matty Healy’s lips being pressed against your own.

Without being dramatic about it, the kiss is a long peck, but for you it lasts a lifetime. Because when you think it’s about to be done, you feel Matty’s hand cup the side of your face and pull you in for another one, one that is much less awkward than a peck on the lips.

It’s an actual kiss, where both of your lips move together for it to be remotely good, but obviously not going as far for any tongues to be involved. It was just a very nice sweet kiss and the cherry on top is the gentle stroke of your cheek just as he pulls away.

You’re fully not in character anymore when he moves away, you’re just so embarrassed. You can’t believe you’ve just kissed Matty Healy.

He sits back and says, “That wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You can feel your cheeks heat up now, and because you have no other words you say, “Thank you.”

Matty half grins and shakes his head and you can tell he’s about to get up from the table, and he says, “I’m going.”

So you say an equally awkward, “Thank you… Bye.”

“See ya.” Matty says as he stands and he walks over to Jamie.

All that’s left for you to do is to look embarrassed, which you can’t really help at the moment. You’re malfunctioning and you don’t know where to look. The ghost of Matty’s touch so very present on the side of your face, leaving you feeling things you won’t be able to shake up in at least a few hours.

You’ve never been so thankful to hear Tyler shout, “And cut.”

Your small crew does a little round of applause and to keep yourself busy and to try and regain some composure, you just take your phone out. As you calm down, you take a picture of the fag and ash in amongst your chickken nuggests and chips.

“Can’t believe one finally broke you, Y/N.” Your director laughs.

And without looking up, you tell him, “Shut up Ty.”

At that you hear your crew laughing and you're sure Matty is too. But you don’t look up, not until your best friend comes over and giggles, “That was quite possibly our best episode yet.”

“Amelia fuck off a minute, yeah.” You smile awkwardly, pushing her away.

But she doesn’t let you, instead she smushes her cheek against yours in a side hug and she gets you laughing again. But she embarasses you too when she whispers in your ear, “He fancies you.”

At this you shove her away, “Fuck off.”

“Can’t, need you to do the promo pictures now.” Amelia grins and kisses your cheek before standing back up and turning towards where Matty is currently standing by the window with Jamie, “Matty, are we okay to get some promo shots now?”

“Yeah course. Jamie needs to go over something with you as we do, if that's okay?” You hear him ask Amelia and she nods before heading over to talk to his manager as Matty comes back over to join you.

You smile at each other and you feel the embarrassment take over once again. But you try to maintain a somewhat normal and professional person by saying, “Thank you for that.”

“The kiss or the date?” Matty grins as he retakes his seat.

“Get fucked.” You shake your head, feeling your cheeks start to heat up now and you start to unapologetically laugh.

Matty chuckles freely now too, and he confirms, “The date… It’s fun. I see why you like doing them.”

“Yeah, they keep me busy.” You smile, encouraging a now normal conversation between you in hopes that it’ll make you feel more at ease around him.

“You guys ready?” Your photographer Poppy asks the both of you, and after you put your phone back into your coat pocket, you give her the green light once Matty is comfortable too.

There’s certainly an atmosphere between you and him now, one that you certainly are trying to ignore as you start smiling for your pictures. You can’t help but think he’s quite cute in the way that he poses for them, always tucking his hair back behind his ears, but he keeps that one little strand out for you to silently simp over.

You’re taking the pictures for no longer than five minutes, and once they are done, you ask Matty if you can get a few bits on your phone so you can make a TikTok and an Instagram Reel. Of course, he says yes as he’s up for playing along and watching you be even more creative.

You get your phone out and ask him to give your camera the eye in a few different ways. He looks so fucking sexy in his suit in front of you and you find that your cheeks heat up from just watching him through the camera. Thankfully, he’s easy to direct and he eats the food like you tell him too in a somehow sexy way, it should be illegal to look that good whilst eating a chip.

Matty even helps you with your side of the short video. He holds your phone for you and he encourages you to smile awkwardly at him and he loves seeing that even now you’re still a little flustered. And you take the phone from him to record the last bit yourself where you still awkwardly smile at him as you move the camera to and from you fast.

Even at that Matty is impressed because once he presses the button to stop recording, you change immediately and you’re back to your bubbly self again as you thank him.

Next you get your polaroid camera out that you always bring with you and once Matty tells you it’s okay, you take a picture of him. And because he won’t take no for an answer, he takes the camera from you and takes a picture of you posing as you eat a chip. The both of you chat at the table for a few more minutes about questions Matty has for you about your chicken shop dates and you do until you’re interrupted.

After Amelia and Jamie are done going over whatever it was, she asks Poppy to get another few promo pictures of you and Matty standing up beside each other. You send her a knowing glare but you stay professional and get up when Matty does and you succeed in not losing your shit when his hand finds your hip so he can hold you next to him.

You get a normal picture of the both of you smiling before another crew member of yours hands Matty his takeout box to hold for another picture. And in the next you steal a chip from it and take a bite.

And when Poppy thanks the both of you, you step away from each other as the crew start packing up the cameras. Pleasantries are exchanged between you and Jamie as Amelia chats to Matty a little more, no doubt coming up with more ways to embarrass you, which certainly turns out to be the case.

Just after you all start talking between yourselves, Matty checks his phone and he notices the time. He encourages Jamie to get ahead of the traffic and whilst they quickly say goodbye to each other, Amelia tells you what she and Jamie spoke about.

Thankfully it was nothing major, just that the bit about you knowing that Matty only lived 10 minutes away from this Chicken Inn needed to be cut from the final video. Nothing else was mentioned, and apparently Matty had given the green light for you to use whatever you liked from the whole video. You truly love it when your guests give you free rein to have your creative freedom.

Once Jamie had taken off, your crew starts packing down and you and Amelia stick around to help out if needed. You always do, although, you’re never wanted or needed because Tyler, your director, is OCD about his equipment and he doesn’t trust either of you enough with it, which you don’t exactly blame him for.

So both of you stand in the corner of the room with Matty and stay chatting to him whilst he wants to stick around. The conversation moves from the ‘date’ the both of you went on to Matty asking you how the both of you had found being in the public eye and different experiences you’ve had since doing so.

And as you’re halfway through telling him how mental it’s gotten, and that both you and Amelia are hosting the GQ awards red carpet next month, and how baffling it is to you, your best friend realises the time and has to go herself. Her ‘oh shit’ pauses your story and you’re reminded that she’s going out herself tonight and she needs to get home to get ready to head out into central.

That commute is an hour in itself so she’s probably going to be late to her commitment later if she doesn’t leave right now. She gives you a guilty look as you can tell she doesn’t want to leave you with the ‘overseeing’ of the crew putting the stuff away, but you tell her to go and that you’ll be fine.

She thanks you before saying goodbye to Matty and she gives him a hug, and then she gives you a big one which is a lot tighter than her usual hugs, so you know it has a hidden meaning. Since filming stopped, you could see in her eyes just how excited and happy for you that this episode had gone well, and she knows that you’re thrilled on the inside and you’re bottling it up.

“I’m coming round to yours tomorrow, don’t forget.” Amelia tells you and you nod, playing along as if that was actually the plan all along.

You know she’s just planned that so you can scream with each other about today's date and about how teenage you has just lived one of her dreams and she can die happy knowing she got to experience a kiss from the lead singer of her favourite band. You truly wouldn’t be surprised if she showed up at your flat with a cake.

“Go or you’ll be late.” You hurry her out, not wanting her to inevitably embarrass you more by saying anything else in front of Matty.

The both of you watch your best friend as she thanks and says goodbye to the members of your small crew and she quickly disappears out of the front door.

Now that it’s only the two of you, and the crew that’s packing everything up, there’s this sort of anticipation building up. You both know it, you can see it in Matty’s eyes and it’s making you giddy.

So he pushes the boat first, telling you, “I need to go for a fag.”

Biting your lip to hide your knowing smile, you grab his wrist, not really thinking about it, “Let’s go through the back door.”

You give smiles to the workers that see you walk past, but it’s only when you step outside and the cold air hits your face that you take a deep breath.

The small outdoor area the building has isn’t exactly the nicest, it’s just simple tiles on the ground and it’s bricked up like the rest of the houses around here. But it has to be better than the alleyway behind it where all the bins are kept and at least if you keep close to the building there’s a small canopy that keeps today's drizzly weather from getting to you.

Matty can see how tense you are, being accentuated by the speed in which you release your hold around his wrist so he jokes to make you relax, “So you did actually want to go where nobody knows?”

He smiles satisfied when he hears you chuckle, “You’re such an idiot.” Your smile breaks on your face freely now and when Matty sees it’s there to stay, he can’t help but stare.

His eyes stay on you as he pulls out a cigarette and places it between his lips, that’s why he catches you watching his every move and so he offers, “Do you want one?”

You debate within yourself, struggling to see if the craving is really worth it but seeing as you're about to start shaking from the situation in which you’re in and not necessarily from the cold, you nod.

When the cigarette is given to you, you quickly place it between your lips and Matty lights it up for you. He watches you take your first drag as he lights his own and it’s such a stark contrast to how it was inside. Scratch him saying it was unattractive, you look so incredibly stunning right now that he can’t take his eyes off you.

“So, you going to tell me what happened between Amelia and Aitch?” Matty starts the conversation off with something he knew could take the edge off, and when you playfully narrow your eyes at him while blowing some smoke out of your mouth, it makes him chuckle.

Back when Amelia’s Chicken Shop Date with Aitch came out, it sparked a lot of comments from everyone who saw it. Their chemistry had been very obvious, and it had been talked about everywhere on your and Amelia’s content. And afterwards, when they started talking behind the scenes, people had made loads of theories as to what they were doing and what their relationship status was.

Of course, you didn’t grace the public with any official statement to the rumours, because in reality they started fucking each other. And it wasn’t like your best mate owed anyone any explanations, so you just let the wave of gossip pass until it eventually died down and the masses moved onto the next pile of hot gossip.

“What do you think happened and I’ll tell you if you’re right.” Is the best you can give him, not wanting to talk about Amelia’s business when she wasn’t there to approve.

Without a second thought, Matty just spills his suspicions, “I think they started fucking each other, maybe did a friends with benefits thing for a while but then he said that he couldn’t commit to anything long term because he’s going on tour and he’s young and immature and he doesn’t want to be tied down.”

Your eyebrows raise hearing that, the detailed explanation making you want to tease him, “It's like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Well, now you know what happened with Halsey.” He replies nonchalantly, taking another drag of his cigarette.

You give him a small chuckle, “Wasn’t difficult to guess at the time to be honest.” Because it really hadn’t been.

“You’ve known about my music for that long?” Matty genuinely inquires. The Halsey situation had happened so long ago, it felt weird thinking back to it and being about eight years since then.

His surprise makes you frown, “Why do you sound so surprised? You say it yourself that you make good music, why wouldn’t I have heard it back then?”

“Ah, but you knew about Halsey.” Matty says, like it meant you had been obsessed with him since then.

You raise an eyebrow, “She wrote a song about you.”

He had everyone talking about them both when he turned 28 and tweeted about it, and Matty knew that but he wanted to see how much he could push you. “But you said you knew at the time… You're a big fan of mine, aren't you?”

You stare ahead, watching the tiny drops of rain fall down lightly. You two were taking cover under the bit of roof that was sticking out and covering about a foot and a half from the wall of the back of the place.

To tease him, you give him a smirk and a side eye as you say, “I can go off people very quickly you know.”

But Matty had all that Amelia had told him inside under his sleeve, “You’re really gonna stand there and lie to my face.”

The disbelief in his voice has you actually confused, “I’m not lying about anything.”

“Amelia’s just showed me a picture of teenage you with my name on your top.” He retaliates all smug and you freeze on your spot.

You will throttle your bitch of a best friend tomorrow. He doesn’t even have to go into more detail because you know exactly the picture he’s on about. Your white ‘lol you’re not Matt Healy’ top that you proudly wore everywhere back in 2013 and 2014.

You roll your eyes and admit, “Okay, yeah, fine. I do like your music.” You sigh, closing your eyes, “So much for best friends never betraying each other.”

A cackle leaves Matty’s lips then, making you open your eyes and turn to him with a hint of a smile. “She’s also told me about your riot tattoo…” He takes a step towards you, positioning himself in front of you so you can't stay looking ahead and evade his gaze. “Right there.” He takes your wrist in his hand and rubs underneath the bandana with his thumb.

You lick your lips, looking down at his touch and you shake your head before looking back up at him. “What else has she bloody told you?” You bring the cigarette back up to your lips, “Fucks sake.” You mutter under your breath after taking a long drag, only to drop what’s left of it on the ground, an action that Matty follows.

He lifts the piece of red fabric enough to see the word inked on your skin. “Why’d you cover it up?”

You have to control your breathing but with the way his thumb keeps brushing over your first tattoo, there’s goosebumps breaking out on your skin and you’re sure he notices, but you hope he alludes it to the weather.

“Because that's a turn off.” You argue but Matty’s quickly shaking his head.

He looks back up at you, letting your wrist down slowly. “No it’s not.” He reassures, and you feel like you can maybe breathe again by the loss of contact, but his eyes find yours and they stay there for a while, making it harder to keep your cool.

You open your mouth, not even sure about what you were going to say as the short distance between you has you malfunctioning but Matty beats you to it when he says, “You’re a tough one to crack, aren’t you?”

That smirk you have seen so much throughout the years comes back and you match it when you reply with another question which he might’ve said was not nice if it wasn’t for the way it made him feel. “Is it bad I like to keep people wondering?”

Matty tilts his head, taking in a short breath through his teeth, “A little bit cruel maybe, but nothing I wouldn’t mind enduring.”

You hum, “Like enduring the rain wetting your back right now?”

Matty thought you wouldn’t notice but with the rain intensifying, of course he had wanted to cover you from it. But to look more casual he just shrugs, “It’s only a drizzle, innit?”

It was like he had just jinxed it because you watch the drizzle turn into a shower and you can’t stop yourself from laughing. “You were saying?”

Matty shakes his head, grinning at you so big that it reaches his eyes. And you do the same but when he takes a step backwards and then another one so he’s fully under the heavy rain, you gasp.

And he doesn’t even give you the time to joke about what he’s just done because he walks back towards you.

Shaking your head, you only manage to say, “No, no.” as you think he was going to hug you and get you all wet, but he grabs your wrist and quickly pulls you with him into the rain.

“Matty!” It’s all you can say between gasps. It’s so cold and you can barely keep your eyes open, you’re just squinting from the water on your face. “You dickhead!”

He just continues to laugh and it’s such a contagious noise that you can’t try and fake being annoyed at him, you join his laughter. “Live a little Y/N! Just enjoy the rain.”

You scoff, but it’s only to hide the fact that you really are enjoying how mundane the moment is despite it being hard to believe who you’re experiencing it with. “Very easy for you to say, you have like three layers on.”

He realises then, he should probably get the umbrella out just so you don’t get drenched for longer or else you’d get ill, so he walks up to you and opens it up over your heads.

“You’re no fun.” Matty jokes, and when you roll your eyes at him as you try and fix your now wet hair, he just has to get you back to how you were before the rain interrupted.

So Matty purposely takes another step to shorten the distance between you. But then he leans forward, wrapping his right arm around your waist and bringing you impossibly closer to him.

“C’mere,” His voice falls to a whisper that sounds only a little louder than the spatter around you. “I don’t want you getting wet.”

The smirk on his face and his sarcasm has you rolling your eyes again, but he cannot ignore how you’re biting your lip as you fail to hide your smile.

“As if I’m not already drenched, thanks to you.” You bite back, and when you feel his thumb rubbing on your lower back, you can’t help but shiver.

Matty’s smirk gets bigger at that, and it continues to grow on his face when you react to him saying, “Only for the wrong reasons, love.”

You feel yourself blushing, so you decide to ignore what he’s just said for your own well-being. You’re truly on the brink of a freak out at this whole situation, 19-year-old you is screaming at the top of her lungs somewhere deep inside you.

“You’re really gonna have to make it up to me if I get sick and miss the next week of work.” You threaten, and it’s honestly an empty one because you don’t have much going on but you can’t think about anything else at the moment. Only Matty pressed against your front with his arm around your waist. Your mind is completely blank, and you have no idea what to say.

But you should’ve expected him to expertly make that the perfect start of another flirty comment.

“Do tell how you would like me to make it up to you.” He squeezes your waist lightly, and it all but makes you jump as he intently stares into your eyes.

You keep his stare, “Matty…” His name sounds like a beg when it leaves your lips and he fucking loves it.

So Matty continues to push your buttons, “Perhaps a cuddle… Isn’t that what you wished for earlier?” And he’s glad he can recall all that you said perfectly because he continues saying, “Believe you also pleaded for me to go down on you…” and your breath hitches in your throat.

Your voice sounds almost too weak when you reply, “Pleaded is a strong word.”

He hums, “But you did say please.”

You curse yourself for saying that, because you’re now just suffocating in this tension and you have no idea how to get out of it. Not that you really want to though.

You’ve already had a taste of his lips and being so close to another kiss really has your knees weak.

It’s like Matty reads your mind, or it might’ve just been that he had seen your thoughts shine through your eyes when he adds, “Maybe a get well kiss? Would that make you feel better?”

You’re unsure what happens next, as you barely hear the whimper you let out but Matty doesn’t miss it and you can’t control yourself when you say, “It might help.”

That’s all Matty needs to hear before he finally closes the distance and presses your lips together. At the same time, you both take a deep breath through your noses and like something had lit you both alive, you grow unable to keep it soft like you did inside.

Your arms wrap around his shoulder, and you don’t even care about the accidental knock you give the umbrella and how it wets your arms, you’re too focused on getting to feel this kiss for as long as you can.

Matty hates that he has to hold up the umbrella because all he wants is to hold your face like he had done before, and maybe it was the way he held you tighter against him that has you knowing so you bring one of your hands to cup his jaw while the other tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck.

When Matty deepens your kiss, he pulls you into him more and you find that you really don’t have that much control left over your impulses. Because when his tongue is suddenly teasing yours, you moan at the same time you pull your hand back from his hair to grab his tie.

You pull the fabric towards you, so he has no option but to keep this kiss going. And Matty is almost taken aback by your brazen attack. He knew you were nervous before this but just by this alone he would think you were the most confident woman on the planet.

The feeling in your stomach right now is something that you hope you'll never forget, because you can’t imagine this happening ever again. If you could stop time, you’d do so in a heartbeat because you don't want it to end.

So much so, that when you hear a nearby back door fly open Matty pulls away for the briefest second thinking you’d been caught. Clearly though, you don’t care because you grab his jaw and guide him back to your lips so he can kiss you again.

And Matty isn’t one to argue a kiss from a stunning woman like you. He kisses you back until you pull away from him when you lose your breath.

It seems that you’ve both lost yourselves in the gesture, as you keep your eyes closed and rest your foreheads against each other’s as you catch your breath.

Matty hasn’t kissed anyone since him and his ex split up and he certainly remembers the way he was with her initially. It was the same excited but nervous feeling he has in his stomach now.

He’s so fucking glad he’d gone on this date with you now.

After another minute of a breathless silence, your date is the one that breaks it.

“This isn’t what you do after all your dates, right?” Matty smiles with a joke, but there’s a small part of him that wants the reassurance that what’s happening here is special.

“No.” You breathlessly giggle at that and gently shake your head, “This is a first, don’t worry.”

He hums to acknowledge that, and it’s only then that he notices you let go of his tie. You part your forehead from Matty’s then so you can look as you flatten down his tie, but you don’t attempt to fix it.

Both of you are still breathing heavily and you’re savouring the feeling of being held so tightly to him. Another minute passes the both of you by then, the silence between you not deafening like it was inside as you have the sound of the rain hitting the umbrella above you and the ground around you to keep you sane.

And as you watch each other now, you’re not holding anything back, your guards are down and it’s freeing getting to stare into those brown eyes of his. Matty could watch you all day, he almost hesitates to start a conversation again just in case he shortens this between you.

“I get back from tour around the twentieth of December, but then I go back home for Christmas.” Matty tells you, his hot breath fanning your face as under the umbrella it seems to keep the hot air which is now making both of your damp skin get that muggy feeling. You wouldn’t change it for the world though because he smiles as he continues, “But I'm back for New Years. Might drop you a message then.”

You want to tell him that you’d absolutely love that, and that truthfully nothing would make you happier than meeting up with him without all the cameras and under the pretence of promo. But your sarcastic nature gets the better of you.

“Yeah, well, if nothing else,” You smirk as you remind him, “Please get me that date with your ex-girlfriend and her husband… Please.”

Thankfully it just makes the man, who’s still holding you to him like you might disappear, laugh out loud. You giggle yourself, finding the whole of today fucking mental, but nothing prepares you for hearing him half scorn you by saying, “You really should stop trying to get other dates when I’m trying to arrange our second one.”

Second date. Yeah, you’ve definitely gone insane and this is some sort of delusion.

“Well, stop with the gel in your hair and I'll think about it.” You smile, knowing that if he does message you, there isn’t a bone in you that could ever say no to him.

But you tell him sincerely with a soft smile as you glance up at his wet curls, “You look a lot better with it natural.”

Matty sighs, “You should have told me before the date.”

You giggle with a light frown, “I'm no one to mess with your image, Matthew.” And with the confidence that you now had in front of him, you tease him, “In other ways but not your image.”

Tutting, he warns you, “I’d stop if you’re not going to let me take you home now.”

“Okay, I’ll stop.” You bite your lip, trying not to recoil under his gaze.

But his face softens up when he tells you, “I had fun today.”

You give him the sweetest smile, one that has him melting inside, “So did I.”

And Matty can’t stay longer without asking then, “If I hypothetically asked you on a real date you would say?”

It doesn’t even take you a second to reply, “I would hypothetically say yes… Providing you have no gel in your hair.” You add at the end to try and keep the joke running.

“That’s hypothetically good to hear.” His smile gets bigger when you giggle.

“Enough with your hypotheticals.” You playfully scold him, but then you find yourself looking all around his face, appreciating every little detail and trying your best to memorise them. You brush back the wet curls that are falling on his forehead, swiping the drops of water with the pads of your thumbs.

Matty hums and lets his eyes fall close at your soft touch, and it’s when you smile at the peaceful silence that you realise just how long you’ve been outside and how he and you both were meant to leave very soon.

“How are you getting home anyway? Do you need me to call you a taxi?” You ask, already noting your phone was inside so if that was the case, then the two of you would have to go in again and wait there.

Matty opens his eyes and blinks slowly, “I’ll order an uber, don’t go worrying yourself.” Your worry was so adorable, but now it was time for him to do so, “How are you getting home? Where do you live anyway?”

You are quick to have him relax about your ride, “Crew will drop me back at the office and I get the tube home to Brixton.”

His face contorts as he realises that you’re going to have to go on the tube in your wet clothes. “That’s gonna be one uncomfortable ride back to Brixton. You’re all wet.”

You offer him a sarcastic smile, “And who do I have to thank for that?”

“Erm, well, you have a couple more things to thank me for too.” Matty’s eyes fall down to your lips, and you lick your lips just to subtly tease him some more.

You find yourself looking down at his lips again though, and then back up at him only to find him already staring at your eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

Matty leans forward with a smirk but doesn’t kiss you, instead his lips hover over yours by less than an inch and the way they brush over yours when he says, “You said so before.” has your eyes rolling back and it’s you again that seals the kiss.

This one feels different though. You are both just as desperate to lose yourselves in each other but it’s soft enough to know that you’re savouring the moment in attempts to remember the feeling of each other's lips until you meet again.

And the patience stays when your tongues move against each other’s, when he clutches you to him a little tighter, when you tangle your fingers in his curls and pull on them. Hearing and feeling him groan has your mind and heart racing.

It doesn’t last long, as you both are now aware of the time you’re taking but Matty thinks being selfish is necessary sometimes, so he presses his lips against yours again, this time only in a long peck.

But it’s enough to leave you both grinning like idiots, but neither of you can be bothered to care. You just stay there holding the other, until a loud honk pops the blissful bubble you were in.

“You should probably order that Uber now, the crew should be almost ready to leave.” You suggest, biting the corner of your swollen bottom lip.

Matty has to hold himself back from kissing you again, nodding as he pulls out his phone from an inside pocket in his trench coat.

It doesn’t take him long to call for one, and the app sadly tells you both that it’s arriving in 3 minutes, so you’re left to make small talk whilst it makes its way back. But neither of you mind, you feel like you’ve said what you needed to in between those kisses and none of you would forget the arrangement you had made.

So, the next 3 minutes are spent talking about how long it would be until the video would be done and posted, how they’d send it to them first and how it’d probably be the same with the pictures.

When the Uber is about a minute away, you two walk down the alley with the umbrella still over you and up to the front of the chicken shop. Your steps slow as you both try to put off having to say goodbye, but the moment arrives nonetheless and before you know it, Matty is crushing you in a hug with his Uber waiting behind him.

You are both reluctant to let go but when you glance over your shoulder to look at the grumpy expression of his driver, you know it's time to let go.

Matty is quick to remind you when he can look into your eyes again, “See you on New Years?”

You nod, with a massive grin on your face, “New Years.”

And because he wants more assurance - not that he needs it - and also because he doesn’t want you to get soaked again, he makes you take the umbrella from him.

At first you don’t want to accept it, you could easily just run a few feet back until you were inside the shop but he doesn’t let you give it back. “Take it.”

You stubbornly accept, but then Matty adds, “I want it back. On New Years.”

He has you giggling as easy as that, “And I’ll give it back. On New Years.”

“Good, ‘cause it was 200 quid.” That's the thing he leaves you with before he turns and quickly walks into the rain to get in the Uber.

You shake your head amused, and Matty manages to read your lips when you say, “Of course you spend 200 quid on an umbrella.” before he waves at you when the car starts to move.

And you wave back, letting out a sigh.

You don’t catch yourself standing outside the shop for another minute, just trying to grasp what has happened today, it’s Tyler calling out your name from the front door telling you to get back inside and away from the rain.

He and the rest of the crew had seen the hug and how Matty left you his umbrella but the director was now curious as to know where had you been from when you left with him for a smoke up until two minutes ago.

“You were out there a fair while…” Tyler trails off as you shake the rain off the umbrella to close it.

You know this is him trying to get some information out of you, so you just playfully glare at him and sarcastically say, “Oh really? I hadn’t noticed.”

They all know you’re not saying something, but you will be leaving them to their guesses until you actually muster up the courage to spill a secret or two. You trust this group of people with your life, but you wouldn’t tell any of these before you told Amelia.

You helped your friends get everything into the van you all came in, and before you know it you’re on route home. The trip to the office was quick, and you waited with Tyler to make sure that you got all the content downloaded onto his laptop and then put it on a backup external harddrive before a memory stick that you were taking home. You definitely didn’t need another disaster where you lost the footage to a date again. Especially not this one.

Truthfully, you couldn’t wait to start editing this one together, but you’d have to give yourself a few business days to recover. Their album is out in 3 weeks time and you can easily get it all together in the next week or so to have Jamie approve everything in time. You just need this weekend to process what’s happened today.

Something that’s still not fully hit you on the tube, nor when you go to your closest takeout on your way back to your flat. It hits you when your front door closes and silence washes over you.

As you put your food down, you release the squeal you’ve wanted to make since your idol sat down in front of you. And now you freely let your cheeks heat up at the memory of everything that’s happened today. You don’t even put music or the TV on as you eat because you’re so wrapped up in the memories of it.

You’re unable to process the things you said to him and the way you shamelessly flirted. The more you think about it, the more embarrassed you get and you let out small yelps as you recall some of the ways you chatted him up as you feel your cheeks flame. But that fact the flirting worked is the thing that you really can’t fathom.

You can’t believe he kissed you too, both on camera and again outside multiple times. The tingles on your lips and the way you can still feel where he held you close to him is one reason you don’t think you dreamt up the entire day. The only thing that stops you from believing that you had is Matty’s umbrella that’s propped up by your door.

And you can’t quite accept that he said he was going to get in touch when he got back off tour. A second fucking date. You might cry if you think about it long enough. But you really need to not get your hopes up.

Even if it does happen, little does Matty know that you’re certainly going to see him again before New Years. But after today, you think that you’ll stick to the back corner of those Pryzm gigs so you don’t have to deal with any embarrassment, especially when you know that the chicken shop date will come out the day after, the day their album releases.

You think adding to the mystery of ‘will he, won’t he’ will keep you sane. You can happily remain hopelessly deluded that this New Years meeting would happen. And if the end of December comes and nothing comes of it, you will just be pleased that you have this date to look back on forever. It certainly keeps the grin on your face for the rest of tonight.

But what gives you that glimmer of hope is an Instagram notification you got just before you crawl into bed. Needless to say, you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

@trumanblack started following you

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

| Part 2 | Part 3 |

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Ahhhh we really hope you enjoyed it! Please let us know what you thought, we want any and all reactions please! What do you think is going to happen next? Remember to follow @alovesreading as Part 2 will be posted on her account! (We haven't written part 2 yet but we will work on it as soon as I’ve finished @nriacc, also hope you Alex stans liked your multiverse moment)

Please let either of us know if you want to be added to the Taglist x

Taglist: @drinkurkombucha @vinylandcoffeecollection @red---moon @better--oblivions @kennedy-brooke

2K notes · View notes

h0unds-of-h3ll · 1 year

Text

Epilogue

“Everything good must come to an end.”

- Geoffrey Chaucer.

Jonathan levy x reader smut.

Word count: 6k

Viewers beware you’re in for a scare with: Depression level angst, heavy sexual themes, smut, breeding kink, power exchange, age gap, daddy kink, a little hint of dd/lg, abuse of power, explicit language and themes, rough smut, sex in public, nudes, very graphic detail of sex, talk of punishment, dirty talk, jealousy, over protectiveness, spanking, overstim, choking, biting, bruising, fingering, rough blow jobs.

A/n: y’all dirty animals wanted a part two, so eat up. Might I say I didn’t hold anything back, plz beware of the warnings. Sorry for taking forever to write this I just wanted it to be a masterpiece. The second part to this: lovers exchange.

Jonathan’s hair stood on his skin, as the sun's glow of the early morning shone through his curtains. Bars of gold hit his bare chest. His long body contorted on his sofa. The chatter of hollow television continued to chime. He moves his forearm away from his eyes. Groggily blinking his dull eyes open. The beige ceiling and instant brightness blind him. He winced to himself before sitting up, putting his elbows on his knees, and running his hands over his face. He groans, smoothing out his hair. He sighs, slipping his glasses back on. His eyes adjust in a quick second. He only had approximately three hours of sleep before he passed out ultimately. His brain never fully rested running with rampant images of you. Before he can register it he’s running up his stairs, two at a time. To his bedroom and bathing. A short brisk shower and basic hygiene are kept in pristine condition. He stills. The wet splat of droplets crusading down his body made dark circles on the tile. He pauses giving his reflection a minute. Dismal rings are around his eyes, almost looking black from sleep deprivation.

He thanks the world that he’s going to get coffee with you. Almost having a mental breakdown about what clothes he should wear, he has a breakthrough. Remembering what you’ve said about his cardigans and khakis. He blushes. It really feels like a fever dream, he’s an imposter of himself. Pausing by the floor-length mirror Mira had purchased. Pivoting to see himself from all angles. White shirt, mousey wool coat, with dark brown pants. He stylishly rolled up the ends twice, he should change his emerald green socks. He thinks it compliments his beige tones and his gray shoes. Scratching his neck he sighs. Looking at his watch to find the hour to be nine. He swears. Even if he’s going to be early, he wants to be comfortable before you arrive. He’s rehearsed everything he was going to say to you. Reciting over in his mind in a tandem. His aged body doesn’t move as fast as it used to as he hobbled down his stairs. Grabbing his keys out of the dish along with his satchel off the rack. Locking the door on his way out, he jogs out of the house that he hated and starts his car. Knuckles white at the right grip around the steering wheel, he ponders a story he once read that’s eerily reminiscent of his life. Lolita, is slightly less illegal.

_______

He parks by the side of the building, not in the lot. People billow out of stores into another on the busy street of the city. Completely engrossed by the people, it’s strange. How strangers are programmed to detach themselves from others, to not intrude on bystanders out of their circle. Enlightened to know that you stumbled onto his messy circle. Poking holes into the plastic bag around his head so he can breathe. Walking down the street by the greyhound bus, he wonders if you’re on it. His heart flutters thinking of you being so close. He wraps his chilly hands around the strap of his bag, keeping him anchored.

Keeping his head buried to his chest as he pushes open the glass doors of the cafe. There’s a few other people all from different backgrounds scattered around. Sat drinking and conversing. A couple is fondling one another in a corner. It makes him burn up with embarrassment for walking in on it. He dashes into the industrial loft, to a booth seated by the enormous window. Shrugging off his satchel, he takes off his coat too. He puts the thick fabric over his bag. He folds his hands neatly on his lap. A soft folk song pours from the speakers, he pushes his glasses up. People watching is his new favorite hobby. They’re younger than him, hipsters who laugh at obnoxious jokes. Who overindulge in pda. For some reason Jonathan feels like he doesn’t belong. The stereotypical mundane things people do are normal. He doesn’t feel normal, not in any way. This was such a stupid idea. It was just a story. Fiction.

Contemplating for a while, he plays with his fingers absolutely lost in his thoughts. He pulls his jacket off his bag, reaching in to retrieve his current read. It’s worn and faded, one of his favorites. Knowing he can recite it front to back without question. The Scarlet Letter. He just can’t get over the taboo, the utter mourning of tragedy. Opening the abraded book to the number he mesmerized. Reading through a third of the book, he realizes its ten past the original meeting time. Having to wave off the poor server twice since he first came. What if he was a fool? What if you didn’t want to meet with an old creep who has an agenda? He bounces his leg, knee brushing the underside of the table with each jump. Closing the book over his finger to hold his spot, he does the thing he does best and overcompensates. Now Jonathan is a grown man, and he’s not upset, but his ego is bruised. He breathes heavily as he gets worked up. He considers leaving.

Before he does, he hears the bell chime as the door opens. Head popping up to find the visitor to be a disgruntled you. Messy absolutely wild hair. Your backpack strewn carelessly on your shoulders. One hand you hold a strap to keep it on, the other you hold your phone with white earbuds connected. He’s shocked to find your shoes on the right feet. His heart stops and time freezes, as it does he wonders how fast he can sprint to the bathroom. Your head whips around finding him pale face and wide eyed. A bright, stunning smile spreads across your face. Tangled hair bobbing as you walk, you wave at him; he returns the greeting with a meek smile. As you settle down into your seat across from him. He smiles at your perfume and he’s whipped by the scent. It’s youthful like spring, nothing like Mira’s dry smelling daffodils. Shrugging off your bag, you pluck the buds from your ears. Pausing your music. You’re sweating and breathing like you ran a marathon.

“Hi.”

He smiles wider, eyes crinkling.

“Hello.”

You sit straighter, smoothing out your lilac damp shirt. Wondering if that’s your perfume he’s smelling or if your body’s essence smells just that good.

“Missed the bus. Had to run. Sorry I was late.”

So you weren’t on the bus. Each pause that you took you huffed. Gasping to breathe. He shoves his book back into his bag, his physical spot lost. Mentally he’s at page 100. His attention is fully onto you.

“It’s alright, are you okay?”

Your eyes bulge out of your head, jumping at his question. For you to have run so far, you’re full of energy, youth.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m just not used to extracurriculars such as track.”

He chuckles, smart too. Extracurriculars. He’ll be thinking about that one for a while. Curtly nodding at your response.

“Well, I’m happy you made it.”

You beam up at him, eyes gleaming and big. You reach over across the table to squeeze his forearm. His mouth is almost dropping at your affection.

“Thanks for inviting me!”

He pushes a hand to his hair when you remove your delicate touch. He scratches lightly at his scalp, then brushes his curls away from his face. Your eyes catch onto the cover of his book. Quirking your head to the side you read the title aloud.

“The Scarlet Letter?”

You furrow your brows in confusion along with curiosity. He jumps at your question, feeling like a kid red-handed. He hides it, when you look at him.

“What’s it about?”

His mouth falls agape, trying to find a string of comprehensive thoughts. He desperately searches for an answer that doesn’t make him sound like a freak.

“Forbidden love.”

_______

Jonathan is full of hapless serotonin. He’s found a new subject for his people watching. Adoring watching you, to examine the things you do subconsciously. Be a simple witness to admire your beauty. How you cover your mouth when you eat, place a napkin onto your lap. Such diner etiquette learned at such a young age has his blood rushing. He sips on his black coffee, hating the brew. It’s much different from his own. Much more acidic than the one he makes. He wonders if you’ll like the organic kind he drinks. He’s slightly frightened by your order, at least half a container of sugar is dumped into the cup. More of a carbonated energy drink he enjoys the mixture of elegance and chaos you exude. You chew your muffin with stuffed cheeks.

“What music do you listen to?”

He most likely didn’t know the artist, but was still interested. Anything you listened to would easily be his most listened to after the conversation ended. You ball your hand into a fist, to hide your mouth as you chew.

“Lana.”

You grumble, almost scared to admit it. His pants get tight with the flow of blood to his cock. His stomach churns painfully. He’s heard of her, the infamous philosophy she’s developed for young women. It’s a phenomenon to him, but it suits you. The femme fatale.

“Del Rey?”

He mumbles, giving him a brief nod. You smile as much as you can with a full mouth.

“Surprised you know her.”

He knows of her; he doesn’t know a single thing about her. He doesn’t listen to a lot of music; he doesn’t have social media. He just never really got it. There’s seven- no, he read an article where there’s eight billion people in the world right now. Already gets nervous about the people he walks by on the street and around the ones in his close circle. He’s happy to be unknown and be a hermit. So knowing Lana was a win. Smiling softly in agreement to your claim.

“One of my students did a thesis for impressionable young women for them to stay wary of what media they digest. They wrote about Mrs. Rey. Albeit grotesque, I like the Cola song.”

You gulp down much of your muffin. You snort, laughing to yourself how strange it was to hear.

“What? I like the song, what’s so wrong about that?”

He laughs with you, a charming big smile on his face.

“You can like it however much you want. But that will forever be comical.”

You point an accusatory his way, waggling it. Dropping it when the laughter dies down to a small smile. It’s quiet for a few minutes, peaceful even, warm. Not the awkward quiet, the one where the silence is mutually understood and welcomed. He licks his lips, tasting the harsh grain on the sensitive skin.

“I was amused by reading your commission.”

He nearly chokes on his tongue, seeing your eyes widen.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

It is less bubbly than your normal chime, more serious. It’s an interesting contrast. He runs his forefinger over the ring of his cup, collecting the substance then bringing it to his mouth.

“Like I said in the email I sent. I’d like to discuss your afflatus. I’m more than interested in knowing where it sourced from.”

He’s intrigued how your eyes glow when you’re acknowledged.

“Have you ever had a dream that felt real?”

He nods slowly, almost hesitantly curious where this was going.

“It was kinda like that for me. Except each time I would walk through this door into this room.”

You pause, eyes taking over his top half. He’s wearing a silver chain that dips under the collar. You weren’t sure how but it made his already alluring neck more appealing.

“I was just completely captivated by this person and well, I wrote about my dreams.”

You shrug nonchalantly, his stomach flips. You tiptoed about just saying outright it was about him. A dirty brief fantasy you had about your mentor. He wondered if every time he taught and glanced at you. Your Bambi eyes gawking at him, you were thinking of such things. He drinks from the cold cup, the liquid almost gone.

“It’s admirable how much you retain from these

dreams.”

He waves a hand in the air like he does when he’s teaching.

“How vivid you made these,”

He clears his throat, noticing your prying eyes at the muscles in his arms contracting. His eyes close halfway, staring you down from the bridge of his nose.

“Encounters.”

You beam brightly at his praise.

“I-, thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

You sheepishly say with your head tucked downwards. Oh, so now you’re shy? He tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth.

“I wanted to introduce you to this program that the college is starting. It’s an apprenticeship to become an insightful tutor to other students.”

He bites down harshly on his bottom lip, tugging at the flesh.

“It’s an extracurricular, I think you’d do well in it since you said you didn’t partake in any others.”

You can’t refuse his offer, he put your own words against you.

“I completely understand if that’s something you do not wish to do. However, I think you’re the most suitable candidate.”

Your stomach bursts from excitement. Unlimited hours with someone you’re completely infatuated with? It’s so mind-boggling that you’re becoming dizzy.

“Is there an application form I have to sign?”

He smiles wide, happy to know that you’re more than willing to be his apprentice.

“Not really, no. But, there is a sheet that I need to give you.”

He turns to run a hand through his bag trying to find the papers. He comes up dry. Shit. He left them at home; he cursed himself for leaving in such a haste. Face falling before an idea pops into his head. He grabs a napkin and a pen from his bag scribbling down his number and giving it to you.

“Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten the papers. Please, if you have any questions or concerns, contact me.”

He smiles warmly, as you nod, staring at the numbers briefly before pocketing them.

“Will do.”

_______

He almost lost his mind when you offered to pay. After a great conversation with you and a farewell. He’s practically in the clouds. It’s the Evening now, mostly spending the day chatting with you. It didn’t feel like hours to him, just a casual meeting with an old friend. A very attractive friend. As he drives home, he listens to Lana. Thinking of all the pretty smiles and suggestive glances you gave him. God what fuel for his eager brain. He hums to the tune as he pulls into his street; he notices a familiar car parked in the middle of where he parks Mira.

He almost has a heart attack as he pulls in. She wasn’t supposed to be here for another week. He sighs, grabbing his bag and keys. Trudging up the steps and opening the door. He’s met with literally the scariest thing ever, Mira making dinner with his kid perched up on a stool. Mira will go through later, but he wraps his jacket and satchel on the hook. He kisses the small child on her head.

“Hey sweetie.”

She mutters a small squeak of ‘hi dad’ and gives him a small hug. Mira turns, hair put up messily as she pours boiling water into the sink. He’s told her over and over that using a strainer is very useful but she continues to do it her way. He crouches, pinching Ava’s small cheeks. Tilting his head, sorrow fills him. She’s grown so much since the last time he’s seen her. It’s just the cost of separation, it’s okay though, it’s supposed to be his weekend.

“Glad to see you’ve joined us.”

Mira sneers, not looking up from the mess she’s making.

“Was busy.”

She whips her head to him, eyes fiery and body rigid. He doesn’t even know why she’s pissed at him but he’s used to it. He just plops into the chair next to the kid who’s grabbing at his fingers.

“Oh yeah, where were you?”

He wants to lie; it wasn’t her business, anyway. Maybe therefore he couldn’t do it anymore. This fighting every night, the difference and insecurity. He breathes in, fixing to do the ten things you hear and feel, before he freaks the fuck out.

“I don’t know Mira I was..just out?”

She laughs a bitter laugh like the gross coffee that’s making his stomach hurt.

“You just avoided the question. Where were you Jon?”

He hated the demeaning way she used his name. Biting on his tongue, pressing his head to the stool.

“I went out to the coffee shop for a meeting.”

She pauses for a second before she goes back to cleaning up the pasta and ravioli she just made, knowing that he doesn’t like the processed shit. She turns, hands on hips.

“Oh. And with who?”

He chokes, he wants to smash his head on the table. Think of a name. Any name that’s on the board.

“L/n.”

Christ’s sake.

“Huh, that’s funny I don’t remember a L/n being on council.”

She sneers.

“She’s new.”

Mira makes a mental note of her, she shakes her head walking to the table. Handing the kid her bowl and setting one out for Jonathan and herself. She chews slowly.

“I didn't sign them.”

Jonathan makes an airplane to land in the kid’s mouth. Cupping under to catch whatever falls. His eyebrows pinch together.

“What?”

Mira stares at the food she eats.

“I didn’t sign the papers you served me.”

Jonathan’s jaw ticks. The bones locking up. Fury rages beneath his skin.

“What?”

He asks again in disbelief. She’s the one who wanted to get separated. She’s the one who cheated on him with Poli. He laughs brutally.

“Are you joking? Please tell me you are?”

She scoffs, offended.

“Why would you think I’d be joking about this?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Of course you want to push this on me. Make me a single mom with no support.”

She says it as a fact as if it wasn’t the farthest from it. She’d have a more than sustainable life with Poli and he wasn’t making her do anything. He sighs, getting riled up.

“Whatever, I just-“

He stops shrugging and shaking his head.

“I don’t know anymore.”

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He clinks the small spoon into the dish and he reaches into his pocket. Confused who might summon him. His eyes bulge out of his head. He wonders if it’s a spam message, one of those things where if you respond they take your identity. A nude lady with an absolute jaw dropping figure dressed in lavender lingerie. Posing in a scandalous contortion. His cock instantly hardens on his thigh. Your face relaxed with eyes looking up and tongue rolled out. Hand tucked into those skimpy panties. His heart pounds against his chest. He quickly pushes the rectangle to his chest. Eyes wild to find his daughter playing in the pasta. Why- who- what- he can’t even think right. In the bottom text is just filth:

“Touching myself to you, daddy.”

“Who is that?”

Mira asks and Jonathan’s up and out.

“Excuse me.”

He rushes up the stairs and into his bathroom Quickly pacing around hands in his hair. He texts back:

“Wrong number.”

Three little dots appear and disappear as anticipation builds. He sighs falling back on his bed with a heave. He thinks that the worst part is that he’ll jerk off to that picture later.

_______

The first day of your new hobby has come. You wear a button up blouse that’s yellow, along with some loose pants and sneakers. Brushing your hair and teeth, spraying something that smelled like flowers. You grab your phone, plugging in your earphones. Reading a text from an unknown number:

“Wrong number.”

Your eyebrows pinch as you unlock your phone. The picture you sent to who you thought was the friendly boy from class ended up being..not who you thought it was. Yet it was your former professor you forgot to put a contact for. You blush profusely, sitting down on your bed. Trying to ground yourself, you have a headache. How could you make such a mistake? Now it made sense why your sneaky link didn’t text back. You groan, rubbing your temples. Horrible turned to worse. As the alarm rang telling you need to leave to make it on time. You wonder if you should stay or not. To just wallow in the suffering of embarrassment of perpetual grief. That your one shot with your handsome more antiquated counterpart was ruined. To think of it all was because you sent him proof you masturbated to him.

_______

Jonathan trudges through the enormous doors, with his home brewed coffee sipping from the mug. He strides into the vacant auditorium, shocked to actually find you sitting on a stool next to his chair. Nose shoved into a book and listening to music. He smiles to himself walking to the desk and taking his things off. He likes the yellow; it suits you well. The lilac was too mature for you. You look up at him, taking a bud out.

“Morning.”

He whispers. You nod your head, putting the bud back in and returning to the book. Cold as ice, it has him frostbit. He sits in his swivel chair with a plop. Rubbing his temples trying to not encourage the head splitting headache that’s growing. He can already tell today is going to be interesting. It’s noon when his first class comes in. You mostly had done nothing, just proofread over assignments and emails, redoing poor grammar and punctuation errors. He stands pointing to something on the board which had an image projected on it. He’s babbling about something, rolling up the sleeves of his gray sweater that hugs him a little tighter than usual. Strong arms being shown has your pussy clenching. Soft tingles bursting in your stomach. You’re supposed to keep your distance; he probably thinks you’re a freak. You bow your head smiling to yourself. He reaches up to grab the screen that’s rolled up at the top of the chalkboard. As he reaches his sweater pulls up showing the curve of his pelvis. The hair flowing from his abdomen down below his pants open to the public. Your breath catches and your eyes dart away. He walks over to his desk, sitting back down next to you. You can feel his heat radiating off him buzzing over to you.

“Turn the lights off.”

He whispers in your ear, and you jolt up.

“What?”

“The lights. Turn them off.”

You nod, pivoting and switching them off. Darkness spreads throughout the large room. The gigantic mass of students almost filled every seat. That’s usually how it is when a new semester begins. Young excited individuals, soon to find the crushing weight to toll. The light chatter dies as the film plays. He obviously made them read the book beforehand, had an excruciating test over it in order to watch and behold in all its glory. Some old French romance that’s a revolutionary development in art and culture. You watch the movie on his computer.

It’s almost a private screening, reserved for two. There’s great unspoken tension between the two of you. He knows and you know the tragic consequences of what happened. However, if the both of you wanted to forget then why not just stop thinking about it? Both of you are corrupted entirely by the other. Jonathan crosses his arms, bouncing his leg. He tilts his head to the side.

“Glad you came.”

He licks his lips.

“The movie is pretty tedious, actually.”

You smirk.

“Oh, really?”

He nods as you continue a hushed conversation.

“Yeah, the only striking thing is that she murders him in the end.”

You let out a shocked gasp, softly hitting him in the arm.

“Spoilers!”

He looks at you like you’re crazy. Making you smile. It was too hard to resist the intoxicating feeling you get off him. The taboo is exciting, but the banter is better.

“How could it be spoilers? I specifically assigned this to be read by last week?!”

He scolds. He leans back, fake shock written on his face.

“I’m floored that you didn’t read it.”

You scrunch your nose, pointing a finger at him.

“It’s not that I didn’t read it.”

You pause, shrugging.

“I just didn’t read all of it.”

He clicks his tongue on the back of his teeth shaking his head, gray curls following.

“Poor excuse.”

You smile leaning back into your chair, watching the movie with him. You notice how he spreads his legs wider, scooting a tad bit closer to you. Mira isn’t here, he reminds himself. It’s better to ask for forgiveness than for permission. He watches the black and white woman dance along the train tracks resembling lost in hope. He bites his lip leaning down again.

“You look ravishing in lavender.”

You bury your face in your chest.

“Thank you.”

He nods.

“I like the little gems on the panties.”

Your mouth closes tight. He uncrosses his arms. One shoves into his pocket, the other lightly tracing the wrinkles in your pants. Your eyes dart from the screen to the students. It’s impossible to make them out in the dark.

“They can’t see, I’ll be shocked if any of them are awake.”

You think for a second before the uneasiness fades.

“Okay.”

You whisper, and he takes it. His hand is slotting on the inside of your thigh. Gradually rubbing up and down, stroking you. Each stroke has him growing. His pinky rubs your clothed slit. The friction makes you grind your hips into his palm.

“Patience little girl. We still have an hour and a half left.”

You groan, biting your lips almost until it draws blood. He runs his forefinger, pushing in he can feel you soaking through the fabric. He does it slowly, like he does when thinking and runs it around the mouth of coffee. Clit to hole, up and down. Your head hurts as you get lost in his hand.

“Touch me.”

He smirks, casting a look over the crowd. He puts his fingers over the tops of your pants and the bottom of your blouse. His nose digs into the side of your cheek from how close he is. His lips brushed the bone.

“What makes you think that you're good enough to think about me when you're touching yourself?

He tugs your pants open. He runs his tongue over his lips, teeth glinting. Your breath catches in your throat, heart pumping fast from the reference of the photo. He was right you weren’t getting off a fellow peer but to the man who smells like heaven.

“Hm?”

He questions softly. He tilts his head to the side, examining you. He pushes the top of his index in.

“Going to teach you some morals, won't I?”

He smirks as he takes his hand back out.

“Sending suggestive pictures to older men is wrong,”

His breath fans over your neck. It’s quiet before he speaks again.

“Isn’t it?”

His thumb soothes below your belly button.

“Yes.”

You whisper almost as soft as the snore of an unconscious student. His hand sinks down from your stomach to your pubic bone. He scratches the hair, making your skin crawl. His fingers dip and he’s instantly damp with your slick.

“Should tell me what’s going on in that filthy mind of yours.”

He growls in your ear, his voice magnified by his proximity. He moves his finger back and forth on the ball of nerves. Your hips jutting up to his arm. Your hand scratches his thigh, squeezing tight. He pushes down, hand fully in your pants and Uber your panties. Constricting him to be close. He pushes his finger into you, feeling you coat him more.

“Go on.”

He thrusts his finger deeper.

“Tell me.”

You can’t think when his fingers are in you, his thumb rolling your clit.

“Want you to fuck me.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Where?”

He pushes another one beside the other.

Your grip tightening.

“Anywhere, on the desk. Front of everyone I don’t care.”

He smiles, swallowing.

“Dirty girl. Wanting me to give everyone a show.”

He tears through your core, making you mewl.

“Is your little boyfriend here?”

You freeze, eyes popping open. You look at him like you’ve seen a ghost. It’s one thing that he’s seen it, another that he knows who it’s actually for. He licks his lips, tongue pulling in his bottom lip. His eyes were unwavering. You nod briefly and he sneers.

“It's funny that you thought he could have you. Have you want him as much as you want me.”

Jonathan’s not entirely sure why he’s spewing this shit maybe it's jealousy. But he’s making you keen.

“Have to fuck an old man in order to get off. How sad.”

His fingers fasten, and he’s curling them. Your toes curl in your shoes, eyes rolling back as your thighs shake. A hot wave crashes over, and suddenly your thighs are sticky and wet. You lay your head on his shoulder, sleepily. He pulls his hand out of your pants. Zipping them backup for you. Letting you sit in the puddle you made yourself. He sucks his fingers clean before wiping them off on his thigh. As he watches the film, he crosses his arms. He presses a gentle kiss to your hairline.

“Stay after lunch and I’ll fuck you.”

He laughs quietly

“If you can keep up, sweetheart.”

_______

Twenty something walk out of the class. Some stretching with a yawn, others asking Jonathan questions. As you sit there flustered and uncomfortable. Hoping they won’t figure something out. The last student walks out. Jonathan types something into his computer. It’s quiet and filled with tension. You wonder if he’s actually going to fulfill his promise. He looks at you.

“Get on your knees.”

You take out your ear buds and put them along with your phone into the bag. You push yourself off the chair and onto your knees crawling between his spread legs. Your hands come to steady yourself. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your jaw.

“Gotta do a few more things.”

His hand leaves to unbuckle his pants.

“In the meantime, keep your mouth warm for me.”

He unzips and takes himself out of his pants. The ruddy head is a pretty dark red. Thick veins running up his shaft. He works himself over a few times. He taps the crown on your lips and you lift on your knees to lick him into your mouth. He groans but quickly returns to his work typing away something. You make it your goal for him to not concentrate. You flatten your tongue. Shoving your face down to the coarse hairs at the base. One hand grabs your hair to hold your face down. He thrusts shallowly. You gag and sputter and he lets you breathe. You lick the tip as you huff. Beads of ivory roll down his shaft. You lick them up and the veins pulse in response. You take him fully into your mouth once more. Dipping them comes back up with a wet slurp. He’s thrusting up. His lips part, he takes his glasses off. Throwing his head back he just lets you swallow him then come up. He’s close as his legs shut and pulls you off him.

“So good at everything. Especially that fucking mouth of yours.”

He pulls you up making you walk to the board, hands flat on the wall. Ass perched as he kicks your feet out. Thirty minutes he reminds himself, before the next class comes. He holds his pants up with one hand. He gropes your body with his other. Squeezing your hips, your stomach and chest. His hand stays at your lower stomach. You know what he’s thinking; he wants to make his. Make you have his kid. He wonders if Mira would be pissed. He doesn’t care.

“Try not to scream.”

He grabs your jaw, tilting your head to kiss you. His tongue instantly pushes through your mouth. Scooping out each inch. You whine, jerking your hips back. His hand drops from your jaw. To pull your pants down around your ankles. He squeezes your hip. Grinding his cock into the crevice of your ass. His girth spreads open your cheeks. Weighing heavy on your dry hole, but he dampens the slit with his own set cum. He bites your shoulder. Pawing at your hips. A hand falls to hold himself to run over your folds. The head, easily slickened. He slides in. Not waiting for you to adjust to surge his hips forward. A loud moan hit through you. His hand wraps around your throat, constricting your breath. Not allowing you to breathe. Head going fuzzy and vision blackening. Your mouth hangs open. He pulls you to his chest once your arms give out. His elbow hits your shoulder as he thrusts. His balls brushing your thighs. His little huffs heat the shell of your ear. It makes your core clench to know he’s there. Fucking you, touching you, needing you as much as you do.

“I should be mad about you teasing me.”

He bites your ear and the rumble of a moan as your walls flutter.

“But how can I be mad when you give me what I want?”

His hips undulate, the roughest smacking is heard through the bare walls similar to the applause of an encore. He likes the yellow reminding him of the rising sun he watches before driving here. The strange ecstatic feeling he got when he thought of you. He’s wrinkling your shirt as he fucks you. You can even hear him, too unfocused to even. The burn of his beard on your shoulder is the only thing that kept you anchored. Once your lungs burn with fire and your body shakes. You claw at his forearm begging for him to release. Each pound of his hips into your ass is another red streak down his arm. His hips are still deep inside you. You feel the warmth implore your womb. He releases and instantly you're leaking down your thighs. Exploding with your own orgasm. Your eyes roll back in your head. He holds your hips to his. Kissing your hairline as you come crashing down. He pulls his pants up and buckles them. Helping you dress yourself on unsteady legs. In all honesty you couldn’t even walk. As you limp to sit uncomfortably back on your seat, he crouched down. Slotting on his glasses, his eyes dark embers. There’s something strangely exotic, addicting to fucking someone who’s a teacher, someone older who can teach you what you want. His hand rests on your knee as he rubs his thumb back and forth there. He smiles after studying you. Kissing your hand softly. That fatherly instinct kicking in, the caring adoring one that takes over his whole being to care.

It’s attractive the tone of the greedy man replaced by a teddy bear. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing your forehead.

“It’s better than fiction.”

#jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy #scenes from a marriage #oscar issac x reader #oscar issac hernandez estrada #jonathan levy x reader smut #oscar isaac x reader smut #fanfiction #smut #oscar isaac smut

818 notes · View notes