#Phillip x David

[c0zm4z]

pip x estella or pip x David Rodriguez

I’ve actually never heard of this ship before. Hope you like it. :))

[cherie-doll]

I’m sick as ALL hell, and it made me imagine big strong military bf’s taking care of me </3 smh why can’t men be real

same, i wish men existed, *sigh* ૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝ ›̥̥̥ ·̭ ‹̥̥ ꒱ྀིა

hope u feel better!! ₍ᐢ·͈༝·͈ᐢ₎⁺ ⊹˚.⋆

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Taking Care Of You While You're Sick

⊱⊰ ik this painting is the death of Barbara Radziwiłł but ajsdks-

ઇଓ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, Hesh + Logan Walker, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

Would try to give you the space you need when you ask for it

But inevitably, he can't go all day or night without you

Comes to you at night, scooping you up in his arms to take you to bed when you had fallen asleep on the couch, a mess of tissues and tea cups on the coffee table

Caresses your face as you lay in bed, pressing tender kisses on your nape since you don't want him touching your face

Tries to sweet talk to cheer you up because you're upset that you had to cancel/postpone plans

Ghost

He avoids making loud noises as to not make your headache worse

During the days you're sick a strong thunderstorm brings heavy rains, the soft tapping of raindrops hitting earth and leaves rustling makes you slip into the most peaceful slumber you've gotten in days

Lets you sleep in his clothes because he knows you feel comforted by his smell since you won't let him get too close

When it's past midnight and you can't sleep so you go on long, random rambles and he's just lying there listening but after a while he's like "please go to sleep, you need to rest"

Soap

Orders pastries from your favorite bakery and has them delivered so you can enjoy biting into freshly baked warm bread

Gets sad when you tell him you can't sleep in the same bed because you feel icky

"But you're going to be cold without me"

Whenever you get out of bed to grab something he follows right after you and drags you back

Due to feeling uncomfortable you frequently change places to rest and he follows you to every spot around the house

Falls asleep on top of you on the couch, it's kinda comforting

Gaz

Uses his softest voice, whispering when he asks if you need anything else

Rushing to bring you blankets, tea, books, the tv control and anything you ask for and place it on your hands

When he helps you walk to the bathroom to wash he takes the opportunity to open the window and let the summer breeze in for a change of fresh air

Frequently washes the blankets so you're always comfortable resting on silkin bedsheets

Cupping your face between his hands, radiating his warmth into your skin and telling you he'll take care of you and make sure you feel better ૮ ߹ᯅ߹ ა

Alejandro

Would make you drink tea whilst it's hot, you burned your tongue

Vicks Vaporub (no i will not elaborate)

Rubs mezcal over your body

Other than preparing you teas and making sure you're bundled up even if you feel hot from a fever, he doesn't know what else to do

He rests his head on your chest even when you tell him to sleep in a different room because you don't want to make him sick too

Listens to your heartbeat at night and doesn't fall asleep until he makes sure you're sleeping soundly

Phillip Graves

He will feed you when you confess you haven't eaten all day because you've just felt too ill to cook

Gently wiping your mouth

Every morning he quietly gets out of bed, letting you sleep in to prepare a breakfast he knows will make you feel better

Won't eat unless you've finished your meal first

You crave something that's not in the fridge, he quickly grabs his wallet and is on his way out to buy it for you <3

Keegan

Takes care of the plants and flowers you're always so dedicated to maintaining

Kissing your shoulder while you cuddle

You keep moving around in bed and he can't fall asleep either because you're restless

"Are- are you okay?" "Knock me out with a shovel"

You somehow manage to convince him to let you go outside on a walk saying the fresh air will help you some

He pulls you close to him when even the slightest breeze hits you, enveloping you in his arms

Hesh + Logan Walker

David will rush to the store to stock up on medicine, tea, and candy

He says sugar always helps keep you restore energy while you're sick

He stays up late with you on a movie marathon when you can't fall asleep

Logan tries to stay up with you too but he fails as his eyelids droop and falls asleep cuddled next to you

Logan washes your hair and takes such gentle care of it you almost fall asleep in the tub

He reads to you in bed knowing your eyes hurt and lets you rest your head on his shoulder

König

Is always fixing your spot in bed, adjusting pillows to your position and making sure you're covered with a blanket at all times

Carries you to rooms around the house

Lots of forehead kisses <33

Avoids going out, his task is to solely take care of you, unless you ask him to get you something, he'll be worrying and thinking about you while he's wishing the line at checkout would go a little faster

Buys things you didn't ask for but thinks you'll need, just in case

Horangi

Would prepare lots of teas for every one of your meals and makes sure you drink it all

Prepares lots of healthy stews to ensure you recover quickly, they're scalding hot but it feels good on your sore throat

Tells you to take it easy and stay in bed because he'll get everything for you

You don't listen and when you try to make something for yourself you accidentally drop a glass in the kitchen, it shatters on the floor and in an instant he's beside you

Checks you for any injuries, quietly taking your hands in his, running his fingers over your skin and sighing in relief when there are no injuries

Nikto

Always checking up on you, you'll be reading or watching tv and it nearly gives you a heart attack when from the corner of your eye you notice a tall, looming figure silently observing you

You're worried about falling behind on chores and other work that when you try to sneak off to do them you find it's all taken care of

With a hand on your back he guides you back to bed telling you that you shouldn't be worrying about chores anyways

Bear hugs you in bed so you can't get up and do things you shouldn't be doing because you're supposed to be resting

"I can't move" "You shouldn't, stay."

[cameron-s-gaskins]

It's 1980. The night before a big rain storm. The night before Sam's car skids into the canal. ...Except Sam opens a fob watch. A fan comic.

Chapter 2 will take place in 2007, after the 'death' of Harold Saxon.

So, this is just a fun little project I decided to do in my spare time :) It's not Ashes to Ashes complaisant, I'll admit that way way way back when Ashes first started airing, I was pretty salty about the explanation that Sam died in a car accident. I know how that show ended, and what they decided to go with, but I'm still just ignoring it all together. I guess this could be a 'fix it,' I'm not sure. Just suspend your disbelief. I'm going to estimate that chapter 2 will take about two months to finish, depending on my real life work load, but the script is already written.

[bxyp]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 2023 | the path to the world of lust and debauchery.

𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔬𝔞𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰. 𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔬𝔞𝔱, 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔥𝔦𝔪𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔧𝔲𝔡𝔤𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡. 𝔅𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔵𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔭.

𝙁𝙀𝙈 𝘿𝙉𝙄 & 𝙈𝘿𝙉𝙄 | 𝘽𝙀 𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀𝙁𝙐𝙇 18+ 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙐𝙏

ＫＩＮＫＴＯＢＥＲ 2023　ＭＡＳＴＥＲＬＩＳＴ

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷. ᴏʀᴀʟ ғɪxᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪɢʜ sᴇx. ᴀʟᴇx ᴋᴇʟʟᴇʀ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟸. sᴀᴅɪsᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴀᴄᴇ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ/ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ. ᴀʟᴇᴊᴀɴᴅʀᴏ ᴠᴀʀɢᴀs (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟹. ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜsʏ/ᴘᴏssᴇssɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ sᴄɪᴇɴᴄᴇ/ᴍᴇᴅғᴇᴛ. ᴀʟʙᴇʀᴛ ᴡᴇsᴋᴇʀ (ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ: ᴄᴠ)

ᴅᴀʏ 4. ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ. ʟᴇᴏɴ s. ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ (ʀᴇ: ɪɴғɪɴɪᴛᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇss)

ᴅᴀʏ 5. ᴀɢᴇ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ sᴇx. ᴊᴏʜɴ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 6. ᴘʀᴏsᴛɪᴛᴜᴛᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ. ᴘʜɪʟʟɪᴘ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇs (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟽. ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ ᴄʜᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜɪᴍᴘᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴏʀ sᴏʙʙɪɴɢ. ᴋᴇᴇɢᴀɴ ᴘ. ʀᴜss (ᴄᴏᴅ: ɢʜᴏsᴛs)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟾. sᴇx ʀᴏʙᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀᴍᴘᴇʀɪɴɢ. ʟᴇᴏɴ s. ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ (ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ: ʀᴇ𝟺)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟿. ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀs ᴀɴᴅ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙᴇɴᴇғɪᴛs. ᴄʜʀɪs ʀᴇᴅғɪᴇʟᴅ (ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ: ʀᴇ𝟷)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟶. ᴄᴏsᴛᴜᴍᴇs/ᴄᴏsᴘʟᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴡᴏʀsʜɪᴘ (ᴛʜɪɢʜs). ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ "sᴏᴀᴘ" ᴍᴀᴄᴛᴀᴠɪsʜ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟷. ғɪʟᴍɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʙsᴇssɪᴏɴ. ᴋʏʟᴇ "ɢᴀᴢ" ɢᴀʀʀɪᴄᴋ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟸. ʙᴏɴᴅᴀɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ/ʙᴀʟᴄᴏɴʏ sᴇx. ᴠᴀʟᴇʀɪᴀ ɢᴀʀᴢᴀ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟹. ᴡᴇᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs ᴏʀ ᴇʀᴏᴛɪᴄ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs ᴀɴᴅ sᴏᴍɴᴏᴘʜɪʟɪᴀ. ғᴀʀᴀʜ ᴋᴀʀɪᴍ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟺. sɪᴢᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ sᴛʜᴇɴᴏʟᴀɢɴɪᴀ (sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ/ᴍᴜsᴄʟᴇs). ᴋᴏ̈ɴɪɢ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟻. ᴄʜᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴀʙᴜsᴇ. ʜᴜɴᴋ (ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ: ʀᴇ3)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟼. ᴅᴀᴄʀʏᴘʜɪʟɪᴀ (ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ) ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴜᴍɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴀᴅᴀ ᴡᴏɴɢ (ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ: ʀᴇ𝟺)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟽. ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴅsᴍ. ᴋɪᴍ "ʜᴏʀᴀɴɢɪ" ʜᴏɴɢ-ᴊɪɴ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟾. ғᴇᴀʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇs. ᴊɪʟʟ ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ (ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ: ʀᴇ3)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟿. ʙʟᴏᴏᴅᴘʟᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴏᴛɢᴜɴɴɪɴɢ. ɴɪᴋᴛᴏ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟸𝟶. ᴏᴠᴇʀsᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴡᴏʀsʜɪᴘ. ʟᴏɢᴀɴ ᴡᴀʟᴋᴇʀ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ɢʜᴏsᴛs)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟸𝟷. ʀᴏᴜɢʜ sᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀsʜɪᴘ. ᴀʟʙᴇʀᴛ ᴡᴇsᴋᴇʀ (ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ: ᴄᴠ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟸𝟸. sɪᴢᴇ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇɴᴛᴀᴄʟᴇs. ᴋᴏ̈ɴɪɢ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟸𝟹. sᴇᴛᴘ-ᴄᴇsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴀᴄᴇ sɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ. ᴅᴀᴠɪᴅ "ʜᴇsʜ" ᴡᴀʟᴋᴇʀ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ɢʜᴏsᴛs)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟸𝟺. sᴘᴀɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ/ᴀɴɢʀʏ sᴇx. ɴɪᴋᴛᴏ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟸𝟻. ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ᴡᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ. ᴀᴅᴀ ᴡᴏɴɢ (ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ: ʀᴇ𝟺)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟸𝟼. ɴᴏɴᴄᴏɴsᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀsᴋs/ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs. sɪᴍᴏɴ "ɢʜᴏsᴛ" ʀɪʟᴇʏ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟸𝟽. ᴅɪsᴄɪᴘʟɪɴᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴜɴɪsʜᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴇɴsᴏʀʏ ᴅᴇᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴊᴏʜɴ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟸𝟾. ᴘʀᴀɪsᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇs. ᴄᴀʀʟᴏs ᴏʟɪᴠᴇɪʀᴀ (ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ: ʀᴇ3)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟸𝟿. ᴏᴠᴇʀsᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ sɴᴏᴡʙᴀʟʟɪɴɢ. ɢᴀʀʏ "ʀᴏᴀᴄʜ" sᴀɴᴅᴇʀsᴏɴ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟹𝟶. ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ʀɪɴɢs/sᴛʀᴀᴘs ᴀɴᴅ sɪssɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ/ғᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ғᴇᴍɪɴɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴠᴀʟᴇʀɪᴀ ɢᴀʀᴢᴀ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟹𝟷. ᴛʜʀᴇᴇsᴏᴍᴇ/ᴍᴏʀᴇsᴏᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ/sᴇᴍɪ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ sᴇx. ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ "sᴏᴀᴘ" ᴍᴀᴄᴛᴀᴠɪsʜ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ) & sɪᴍᴏɴ "ɢʜᴏsᴛ" ʀɪʟᴇʏ (ᴄᴏᴅ: ᴍᴡ ɪɪ)

MAIN MASTERLIST | AO3 | TWITTER

[penguincontitu1107]

Stella

Pocket

Phillip

Gregory

Chistorper

David

Mark

Rebecca

[ankleglue]

Hi Hulu make Futurama merch right meow and I will give you all my money

[mangoxanax]

♰ introduction .♱

Hellooo! my name is micah ! or u can call me micc i am a writer & traditional artist :3 this is not my first time posting but i just thought id make an introduction so, lets get this show on the road ! ★

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

MICAHS INTRO!

🦇﹒──── 🖤！ᶻz ⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜ㆍ🎱﹒

◞ ★ ︉﹒names listed in straw page below︔ current one is Xan.

ᨳ 19 ﹕bday-may 19th!

◞ ★ . " J + X "

◞ ★﹒- - - - genderfluid︔

ᨳ pansexual & pref 4 men ﹕

◞ ★ ︉﹒ ︉likes︔ mlp, 2000s anime, rock music, history, marine biology, sanrio, COD, bluey, and Splatoon, scream and other slasher films ^^

ᨳ dislikes ﹕silence, and thunderstorms (dni if you make rape or gore jokes

◞ ★ ﹒I'm delusional, i have adhd and autism, and im a hopeless romantic︔🫧; ︉im a black creator so id be appreciative if you'd support me!! ^^

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◞ ★ also I'll write for ; redacted characters, yuurivoice characters, slashers, jjk, haikyuu, COD, Mha (mainly mha) , and occasionally my own characters ^^

◞ ★ and i will write these genres ; fluff, smut and some angst. i dont rlly like angst so it'll prolly be scarce.

◞ ★ I will NOT write these kinks ; dub-con, cnc, r4pe, incest, f00t f3tish and other dark kinks. i shouldnt have to justify why.

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tysm for looking at my introduction! asks will be open during sometime of march or febuary so feel free to ask then and hopefully i will get some fics out! >0<

[iamcalmdammit]

Trust issues || [David "Section" Mason x reader x Phillip Graves]

Summary: As Russell Adler's daughter, you were used to your father's scheming. But when he interferes with your relationship with your boss to help your ex get you back, you begin to lose track of what you want.

Length: 7.7k words

Characters: David "Section" Mason, Phillip Graves, Russell Adler, Frank Woods

Note: I've been working on this for a while, but something always came up. Now here you go. What do you think? I love all of these guys. All of them. // Me? Proof-reading? Never. I'll die on that hill (one day.)

The private conference where Phillip was giving a keynote speech was about to begin shortly, but he was still standing outside in the hallway, going through some stats with his most trusted employee. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you tried to finish the conversation you were having with your sales contact from the organizers.

Once he finally apologized and left you there, you quickly made your way to your boss who was now on his own, his blue eyes fixed on you in a way that made your skin burn. You nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and tried to think of anything but that look he had in his eyes.

"How's my tie?" he asked when you got there.

"Perfect."

"Hair?"

You couldn't help but laugh at this. When did he become so vain? "Everything's good, don't worry," you assured him.

"I'm not worried."

You pursed your lips and raised your eyebrows upon hearing his statement. It came a little too fast and he sounded suspiciously sure of himself.

"What was that look?" he asked the moment he saw your expression.

At first you wanted to ignore his question. He was giving good speeches, he never had a problem with that, but today he seemed a little fallen apart, as if his mind was somewhere else. You were sure there would be no problem, but it still made you worried about him. Something was wrong, you just didn't know what.

"Sweetheart."

Someone placed a hand on your shoulder and you almost jumped out of your skin. When you turned to look at who it was, your lips curled into a smile. "Dad, hi," you told him as you quickly hugged him. "I didn't know you would be here."

"It was a last minute change of my plans," he replied then looked over at your boss.

"Oh, right. Dad, this is Phillip Graves, the CEO of Shadow Company. Phil, meet my dad, Russell Adler."

Phillip shook your father's hand and said, "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Likewise." Something was off, you could feel it. He was about to say something you wouldn't like and soon you were proven right by him. "This must mean you're the one who makes my girl work so much," he pointed out.

But Phillip didn't seem to pick up on that because he sounded pretty chill when he replied. "Quite the opposite, I'm usually the one telling her to go home," he pointed out.

"Is that so?"

"Dad, can you not?" you tried, putting a hand on his arm to make sure he wouldn't ask any more questions.

"I see you're working for the government," Phillip spoke up, pointing at the text on the badge in your father's neck.

He nodded. "As an advisor, yes."

"That's great."

But he didn't seem interested in keeping up a conversation with Phillip because he quickly turned to you and asked, "Can we talk?"

"Sure. Will you be okay?" you asked, turning to your boss.

"Don't worry about me."

"I'm not worried," you told him, maybe a little too quickly.

"Okay, I get that look now," he said with a laugh. "I'll go find my PA to check my schedule for the day."

"Good luck." Once he disappeared with his phone in hand, you turned back to your father. "What did you want to talk about?"

"My birthday's coming up."

"I know."

"You'll come over this year, right?" This again. Great. You'd been missing out on his birthdays in the past few years, but it's not like it was intentional. You usually went there, only a few weeks later. "Y/N, I'm getting older, who knows how many more birthdays I'm gonna have. You've been working on my birthdays in the past years, let's celebrate together this time."

He was right and you knew it. "Fine, I'll see what I can do. I promise," you added.

"Thank you. Now, tell me how you are. You look tired."

"I work a lot, it's been crazy in the office."

"Do you want me to talk to your boss?" he asked with a laugh.

"Thanks, but I can handle it."

"Sure?"

"Sure."

Your father fell silent and it made you uneasy. Whenever he gave you the look he had in his eyes now, you knew he was about to tell you something you wouldn't like to hear. "There's something about this boy that I don't like," he finally said.

The last time you had heard him say this was back when you were dating a guy from college and decided to introduce them to each other. It was a bad idea. "What would that be?" you asked anyway, by now curious to hear what he had against Phillip.

"I can't really tell," he said with a shrug. "It's just a hunch."

"He's not that bad," you tried.

"If you say so."

Oh, no, you knew this tone. "Wait, it's not just a hunch, you know something."

"Just be careful, that's all I'm saying," he said, holding up his hands. "And I still like David more than any other candidate."

"Dad, David and I broke up last year. Get over it."

"But you still talk quite a lot." Before you could respond, a chiming sound could be heard. "Oh, I believe it's time for the section your boss is in. Let's sit down."

As you were walking towards the chairs in front of the podium, you tried to get some answers out of him. "Do you and David talk about me behind my back often?" you demanded.

He looked at you then sat down, patting the chair next to him so you would do the same. "Your name comes up sometimes," he replied in the end.

"You're scheming and I don't like it," you told him in a whisper.

"Let's pay attention, okay?"

You hated this so much. He had worked for the CIA for a long time--hell, you were quite sure he was still working for them and this government advisor position was bullshit--and he often acted like raising you was one of his missions. He wanted to know every detail, every person you kept in touch with, where you went and what you were doing.

He always did a background check on your boyfriends and so far the only one who managed to pass his test was David. But you knew it wasn't only because of him as a person, but his background as well. He was the son of Alex Mason, someone your dad had worked with back during the Cold War, and he was raised by Frank Woods, another man your father closely worked with in the past.

Soon you were snapped out of your thoughts by a delicate applause from the crowd as Phillip stepped on the podium. He looked around, but then his eyes landed on you and he watched you as he began his speech. You couldn't hide your smile and you lost track of his words after a while. But every time he looked at you for a brief second, your breath caught in your throat.

Later you said goodbye to your father, promising him you would have dinner with him, then went to look for Phillip's PA so the two of you could talk to some people together, hopefully booking interview appointments.

'I'm at the bar. Come down and join me.'

That was all your boss' message said late at night. You weren't sleeping yet so you thought you could just as well go down for a drink and see what he wanted. While you looked into the mirror in the elevator, you suddenly realized that you were like a dog answering its owner's whistle.

Pathetic.

But at the same time you didn't really mind. You liked his sense of humor, the excited way he could talk about work, and how he always made time for conversations with you. He was nice to all of his employees, but you weren't sure if there were more than a handful he talked to outside of work as well.

He was sitting by the bar with a glass of bourbon in front of him. "I was beginning to think that I lost you," he said with a smile.

"I had dinner with Dad," you explained as you sat on the barstool next to him.

"I hoped we could eat together."

You let out a quiet laugh. "Maybe some other time."

"It's hard to make it happen if you always say no." There was something about his tone of voice that immediately made you look at him. You hoped he would tell you what he meant by that, but he didn't elaborate and changed the topic instead. "Anyway. I was wondering, how old is your dad?"

"Almost eighty-two," you told him.

"And he's still working as an advisor?"

Nodding, you took the cocktail you had ordered from the bartender then turned back to him. "Retirement isn't for him, especially since my mom died."

Phillip looked down at his glass. "What did he do when he was younger?"

"He worked for the CIA."

"For real?" Once again, you nodded and waited for him to explain why he looked like he had just had an epiphany. "That explains the way he looked at me."

Oh, fuck, he picked up on that. But you decided to play dumb for now. "What way?"

"He was suspicious."

"I'm sure he wasn't."

"He was, trust me. But I'm an open book, I have nothing to hide," he stated before finishing his drink and looking at you.

There it was again, the look that burned your skin. "If you say so," you said after clearing your throat and tearing your gaze away.

Phillip ordered another round of bourbon then took a sip with his eyes still on you. "Did you get any feedback about my speech?"

"It was good," you began, happy to talk about work instead of your private life. "Jeff and I already scheduled a few of the interviews we had talked about."

"Why aren't you talking to me about that?"

"Because that's why you have a PA?"

He suddenly reached out to put a hand on top of yours. "Oh, no, I want us to talk directly to each other about these things, okay?"

"You mean you want to schedule them yourself?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, yes."

"As you wish," you told him as you pulled away your hand and stood up. "Well, I only came down because of your message, but I'm tired so I'm off to sleep. See you tomorrow, I guess."

"Come on, stay a little longer. You can't leave me here alone," he asked, almost begging you.

"Pick up some woman. I'm sure it wouldn't be that hard," you let the first thought slip out of your mouth.

Shaking his head, Phillip stood up as well and took both your hands. "Please, don't do this. I can't be any more obvious."

"You're my boss."

"And? I'll talk to HR if that's what you want."

"I can't do this. Just think about how it would affect our work relationship."

A smile suddenly appeared on his lips. "I think things have been better since that kiss in Zürich," he noted.

"That was a mistake," you told him, although in reality you often thought about that kiss and wished you could repeat it.

"Are you sure? Because I'm not." He let go of your hand and cupped your face with his hands instead. "One chance, that's all I'm asking for."

Your eyes were locked with his blue ones, and you were slowly getting lost in their depths. "Why is it so hard to say no to you?" you whispered more to yourself than him.

"It must be my boyish charm," he replied with a laugh. "You wouldn't be the first one to complain about it."

"Is this how you sweep women off their feet?"

Letting out a sigh, he shook his head. "No, actually it was my mom who always said that."

Giggling like some stupid schoolgirl, you said, "I imagine you always got what you wanted."

"I worked hard for everything." His lips were suddenly close to yours, getting slowly closer as he carefully examined your reaction. But you couldn't resist, you wanted him to kiss you so you closed the gap and took the lead. "Why don't we go up to my room? I'll prove you made the right choice," he said with a wide grin.

•••••••

Two months after you officially started dating, you were sitting between his legs on the floor, leaning your back against his chest as you sipped your wine. You were watching some overrated indie movie neither of you had been paying much attention to lately.

Phillip had one hand around your waist, and another under your unbuttoned jeans, teasing you despite your constant begging for more than that. At one point he admitted that he wasn't planning to do anything serious just yet, at first he wanted to see how you reacted to him teasing you while the movie lasted.

It was a stupid experiment, but you knew that once it was over, he would satisfy you over and over again for sure. He was an overachiever in bed, you knew that, and when you had pointed that out, he didn't even try to deny it.

Then your doorbell rang, bringing you back to reality. "Don't open it," he whispered in your ear when you tried to stand up.

"Our cars are outside and the lights are on. It would be rude to ignore whoever it is," you pointed out with a laugh.

"You're ruining our fun." You turned your head to look at him and once your eyes locked, he let out a defeated sigh. "Fine, I'll let you go for a short while, baby, but make it quick," he told you before he licked his fingers clean.

You turned around to be on all fours in front of him and gave him a soft kiss before you stood up and said, "I'll be right back."

You looked out of the window on the way to the door and noticed the silhouette of a familiar car in the dark. When you opened the door and saw your guest, you immediately knew why it was familiar.

"David, hi," you greeted him with a surprised look. "What are you doing here?"

He took a deep breath and thought about where to begin, but until he spoke up, his hazel eyes gave away that whatever it was, it really bothered him. "I need to vent and I don't know who else to go to," he finally admitted.

Before you could ask him what the problem was, he simply walked inside, leaving you standing there. "Sure, come in," you said quietly.

You followed him to the kitchen where Phillip was busy pouring another glass of wine for himself. "That was quick," he noted without looking up. But once he turned to you with a seductive smile, it all disappeared and he watched David cautiously. "Oh. Hello?"

David turned to you. "I'm interrupting something, aren't I?" he asked.

"Yes," Phillip replied impatiently.

"No," you said at the exact same time.

Your ex shook his head. "I should go."

"Wait, why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Frank," was all he said in response.

You began to laugh at this. "Ooooh."

"Don't laugh, he's getting on the nurses' nerves and I'm the one getting the calls. I have to talk to him about it, but I need reinforcement. He adores you, Y/N. Come with me."

There was something about the way he said it that made you think. Could it be that Frank didn't know the truth? "You did tell him we broke up, didn't you?" you asked with a questioning look.

David groaned and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "Look, he's old, I didn't want to shock him."

"David!"

"Okay, what if we tell him together? I'm sure he will have questions and it would be better if I didn't have to answer on your behalf," he tried.

"My dad isn't young either and I managed to tell him alone. When it happened, not a year later," you added.

"Come on, Frank would be happy to see you again. Please."

"Ugh, fine."

"Thank you," he said as he reached out to quickly squeeze your hand.

That was the moment Phillip cleared his throat and looked at David expectantly. "We don't know each other, do we?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm David Mason," he introduced himself as he extended a hand.

"Phillip Graves." He shook your ex's hand then pointed at the bottle on the kitchen island. "Can I get you a glass of wine?"

"Thank you, but it's time for me to go. Sorry for disturbing you."

Phillip laughed. "No worries. Have a good night."

You walked David to the front door and watched as he sat in his car and drove off. So Frank was causing trouble again. You laughed while you closed the door and returned to your boyfriend in the kitchen. When you got there, you saw him looking at you with an upset look on his face. Was he jealous?

"What?" he suddenly asked.

"You're jealous."

He let out a laugh. "Me? Of this guy? Don't be ridiculous."

"Then what was this all about?" you asked him.

"I just offered him a drink since he was your guest." Tilting your head to the side, you gave him a disapproving look. He had been playing some stupid power game with David, it was obvious. "You don't believe me?"

"No."

Phillip walked over to you and put his hands on your hips as he examined your face. Then his hands began to move up your side, gently stroking your skin under the shirt you were wearing. "Too bad. But I have nothing to worry about, right? I mean, you're mine after all. I own every inch of this gorgeous body of yours," he said once he took off your shirt and began to place kisses all over your chest. "I love you," he murmured against the hollow of your throat.

The way he ruled your mind and body was nothing new, but even now you were surprised by the power he had over you. You already forgot that you had a visitor that night, all you could think about was him. And how despite all this you could never get yourself to say that you loved him.

•••••••

The Vault was a strange place. You didn't really know why, but you never really felt safe there, this is why you had always visited it with David by your side. You never had to tell him about this weird fear of yours, he instinctively knew and paid more attention to you while you were there.

Now that you had to go back there to see Frank, this probably irrational fear returned. But even though you weren't together anymore, David still stayed close to you, and took your hand to guide you away from an unruly patient outside in the garden. And after that, he didn't let go, he just wrapped his fingers tightly around yours and walked towards Frank's room as if you were in last year.

Then you finally reached your destination and you couldn't hold back a smile when you saw the old sergeant. "Frank," you greeted the man.

He turned the wheelchair around and let out a heartfelt laugh. "Y/N, it's been so long. Where the hell have you been?" he asked as he reached out to take your hand in his.

"I'm sorry, something always came up."

"David's right, you work too much," he stated once he rolled back to take a better look at the two of you.

With an annoyed groan leaving your lips, you folded your arms over your chest and gave him a sharp look. "Not you too."

"Your old man?" Frank asked with a laugh.

"He always tells me that too, yeah."

Next to you David huffed loudly enough for you to hear it. "And we're right," he noted.

Before you could say anything in your defense, Frank cleared his throat to stop the upcoming fight. "How are you, kids? I'm sure there's a reason why you both came here after such a long time. Here to announce your engagement finally?"

"No, we're not. Quite the opposite."

"We broke up last year, we--well, I just didn't know how to tell you the truth," David admitted. He sounded sad and you couldn't decide if he was trying to guilt trip you or really felt like that.

Frank closed his eyes and nodded. "Too bad, you were sickeningly cute together. What happened?"

"It just didn't work out," you replied.

"Because you work way too much." You turned to David, ready to defend yourself, but he changed the topic before you could say anything. "Anyway, we're also here to talk to you about your behavior," he said, turning to the very man who had helped raise him after his father's death.

He remained silent for a short while, as if he was having trouble remembering things. "What are you talking about?" he asked innocently.

David dropped on one knee to get on eye level with him. "The staff called me. Poker parties? For real?"

"Do you have any idea how boring it is here?"

"And you call one of the nurses Nurse Batshit?" David asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, because she goes batshit crazy whenever I want to smoke," Frank explained.

"You shouldn't do that."

"Don't tell me what to do, I'm old enough to decide on my own."

You couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't keep a straight face. So you finally let all of your emotions out and started laughing, even getting a tissue out of your bag to dry a few stray teardrops.

David let out a sigh and turned to look at you. "Why are you laughing?" he asked seriously.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I know this is serious, but," you began before losing it again. "Nurse Batshit? I can imagine you wheeling around in your chair screaming that nickname."

"She never listens," Frank noted.

"Because it's rude."

This time David gave you a confused look. "Then why are you laughing?"

"Because it's also hilarious."

"Thanks for the help, Y/N."

"I'm so sorry." After breathing in and breathing out a few times, you could finally calm yourself enough to speak seriously. "Okay, but for real, you should be nice to the staff. And don't organize poker parties, if you need money--"

"I don't need money, I want to have some fun," the old man interrupted you angrily.

"Frank, there are rules here, okay? Please, try to adapt to them," David tried.

"I'm too old for that, I won't change, son."

You put up your hands. "We tried."

"You give up that easily?"

"Look, he did a lot for our country, he deserves to have a peaceful and… fun retirement," you tried to reason with him.

Frank's lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he looked at David and pointed at you. "Listen to her," was all he said in the end.

The three of you chatted some more but things became weird when Frank began to ask both you and David if you were seeing anyone now. David explained that he was focusing on work and his girls, while you… Well, you lied and said you were also alone at the moment. You didn't know why you said that, it just came out like that.

Once you left the building, David stopped you by a bench in the garden and motioned you to sit down with him. "You weren't too much help, but thank you for coming," he said after watching you for a few minutes in silence.

"I'm sorry, but Nurse Batshit," you said, although your voice faded as you started laughing again.

"Okay, you're right, that's funny." David was now laughing too, finally appreciating Frank's sense of humor. Just as suddenly as he started laughing, though, he fell silent again then said, "I miss you."

"David…"

"I'm serious. But tell me this--why him?"

"You mean Phil?" you asked the obvious.

He nodded and you could tell he was furious by now. "Yes, your goddamn boss of all people," he pointed out. "Can't you see that he's using his position to get what he wants from you?"

But you only shook your head and ignored his anger. "It didn't happen from one day to another," you said, keeping your voice down to calm him down a bit.

"Oh, trust me, I know. It all began when we were still together."

"It's not true."

"I remember what it was like. I remember his fucking voice from my nightmares because you always put him on speaker when he called," he finally snapped. "It didn't matter if it was late night or the weekend, or if we were out on a date. You always answered his call. Always."

It was true, you couldn't argue with him, but there was something that you knew he didn't want to say out loud. "I never cheated on you," you informed him, hoping you answered whatever theory or question he had in his mind.

"I'm sure you didn't, at least not physically. But emotionally? That I'm not so sure about." Could he be right about this? So much had happened since then that you didn't even remember the details. "Tell me, is he treating you right? Or does he talk to you in private as if you were any other of his employees?"

"Don't do this," you said weakly.

"Answer me." He watched you intently, probably trying to read your face in case you didn't answer. And you didn't answer. You didn't know what to say because a part of you knew he was right. "You can't even answer this simple question. Leave him. Do yourself a favor and throw him out."

"And go back to you?"

"I wouldn't mind. I tried to be friends with you but that's not enough."

Letting out a sigh, you looked into his hazel eyes and wondered why he suddenly said these things. For months you only had casual conversations, you never suspected that he still had feelings for you. If you had known, you would've kept your distance for his sake.

Before you realized what was happening, he reached out and pulled you into a kiss. A hungry and passionate kiss you knew all too well, one he usually reserved for post-mission meetings. You were so surprised that you instinctively returned the kiss, something you definitely wouldn't have done if you could think straight.

But as terrible as it was to admit, you enjoyed it, and memories you had forcefully pushed into the back of your mind in the past months now returned--date nights, lazy mornings in bed together, trips to the zoo with his daughters. It had been so good to be with him, it was definitely more domestic than the relationship you were currently in.

Then your phone began to ring and when you looked at your watch, you freaked out. "Shit, it's Phil," you said in panic.

"Leave it," David told you before he kissed you again.

It didn't last long this time because the call brought you to your senses and you pushed him away. "No, wait, what the fuck am I even doing?"

He watched you jump up and take a few steps away from him then flashed a cheeky smile at you. "Following your heart."

"How poetic."

"You wanted this."

"You're confusing me."

"I couldn't confuse you if you really loved him."

You did love Phil, you knew that deep down, but you couldn't deny that you wanted this. A part of you still missed David, still regretted having those fights back in the day. But there was something else you needed to remind him of. "You threw me out to begin with!" you snapped at him.

David stood up and walked over to you. "Because of him! Because of whatever the fuck was happening between you."

"I need to answer this," you suddenly remembered your ringing phone.

"Go ahead, I won't stop you."

"Stay quiet."

"Why?" he asked with a laugh. "He knows we're visiting Frank together, doesn't he?"

You gave him an angry look. Not because he was wrong, Phil knew you didn't come alone, but he made it sound like it would be fun for him to piss your boyfriend off by talking in the background. It wouldn't be beyond him to do something like this.

"Hey, Phil," you said into the phone after you answered the call.

"Babe, it took you so long to answer. Is everything okay?" he asked almost worriedly.

"Yeah, I was just looking for a quiet place to talk to you," you lied, earning a disapproving look from David.

"Are you still there?"

"Yeah, we just finished."

"How did it go?"

"Not well, but we kinda knew he wouldn't change."

"And your ex?"

Shit. "What about him?" you asked as if you didn't know what he was talking about.

"Did he behave?"

"Jealous?" You laughed, although it wasn't a happy, but more like a nervous laugh.

"Like I already told you, I have no reason to be," Phil replied confidently and you could imagine the smirk on his lips now. "See you tonight?"

"Yeah. I'll be waiting."

Once you put the phone away, you took a deep breath then turned around to face David. He was watching you with his arms folded over his chest, burning a hole inside you with that glare. "He knows that you shouldn't be with him, that's why he's so worried about you coming here with me," he suddenly said.

You gulped loudly while you thought about what he said. "He's not worried."

"I heard you asking him if he was jealous. So what would be the better word then? Insecure?" he asked with a laugh.

"I won't stay here and listen to you talking shit about my boyfriend," you told him angrily before turning around and walking away.

•••••••

Russell had been through a lot throughout his career, but despite not acting like the best father in the world most of the time, you were one of the things about his life that he was truly proud of. Not saving the world or getting rid of bad guys. No. You.

So when your boyfriend called him to say he had plans for your birthday, that he would throw a party to celebrate you, he knew he had no choice but to play nice. He didn't like Phillip, but you loved him and that was enough for now.

At the party you looked truly happy and chatted with every single guest eventually. You were talking to one of your neighbors when he found you again, although he only watched you from afar, appreciating the sight of you having David by your side again. Russell remembered that old lady, David had sometimes helped her around the house while you were together.

"They are adorable together," he noted happily when he noticed Phillip standing next to him out of the corner of his eye.

"I beg to differ, sir," was all he said with a surprising level of confidence, although Russell was able to tell it was just an act and he was probably nervous under this calm surface.

"Of course you do."

Phillip let out a sigh and licked his lips as he turned to him. "I have a question for you. Why do you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you, son, I just don't trust you. I want my daughter to be safe in a relationship," he explained.

"So you think I can't protect her?"

It was clear from his reaction that he wasn't a parent yet, especially not the father of a girl. "I'm sure you could protect her from physical harm, but I'm talking about emotional safety. I doubt you could give her that."

"But you think he could," Phillip said, pointing at David.

Russell nodded. "I know he can. She has known him for many years, she was by his side after the divorce, she went through hell to get his eldest daughter to at least like her, and they spent four years together," he listed.

"And despite all this they still broke up."

"All because of you."

Upon hearing this answer, Phillip raised an eyebrow and turned to him. "What does it have to do with me?"

"The two of you have been close for a while now, haven't you? Maybe a little too close for David's liking. Late night calls, weekend calls, business lunches and dinners, business trips--you knew exactly what you were doing."

The younger man laughed. "You think I'm that calculating?"

"You might as well be."

"Well, I think your daughter knows best who's the better choice for her, so I suggest you step back and let her decide on her own," Phillip told him coldly.

Who would have thought. This kid could still surprise him. "Is that a threat?" he asked calmly.

"No, sir, just an advice," your boyfriend replied with a smile before walking away, going straight to you.

You greeted him with a smile when Phillip put an arm around your waist and handed you another cocktail. He gave David a cold look, who in return excused himself and left the group. A smile crept on his lips. Good, he knew his place.

He kissed your temple, hoping this gentle gesture could get your attention. When you gave him a questioning look, he asked, "Baby, do you have a minute? I have another surprise for you."

"Another?" you asked in a surprised tone.

"It's not a big deal." Once you reached an area that was less crowded, Phillip reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box that he then handed to you. When you saw what was inside, you looked up at him, expecting answers. "Keys to my house. Move in," he explained.

While he thought you would be happy to see it, in reality you were unsure of the whole thing. "Isn't it soon?"

"Why would we waste our time?" asked Phillip as he took your hand. "Come on, things are great, this is the next step."

"Can I think about it?"

He was confused, he didn't understand why you weren't glad to hear he was ready to move forward with your relationship. But he didn't want to push you so he had to be patient this time. "Sure. I'm not trying to force you here, it's just an option," he replied with a smile.

You finally smiled at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Thank you," you whispered against his skin.

"I love you more than anything, Y/N. You know that, right?"

"I love you too." Then you let go of him and stepped back a little to look at him. "So how was working with Dad on this little party?

It was a nightmare, he wanted to say. "We had our differences about the guest list," he began, intentionally not mentioning David's invite, "but other than that it went well."

"I'm glad to hear that. I know how difficult he can be."

"No, it was okay. If things go that well we might be friends one day," he lied.

With a warm smile you fiddled with the collar of his shirt. "Look how confident you are."

"I would say optimistic."

•••••••

You didn't know what you were doing in front of that door, but something led you there. It was a thought in the back of your mind, telling you to come and see him again. You knocked and waited, hoping he would open the door soon.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" asked David in surprise.

Looking down at your hands, you thought about how to answer this. Really, what the hell were you doing? "I don't really know."

He flashed a small smile at you as he stepped aside and fully opened the door. "Do you wanna come in?"

"Only if it's okay."

"You're always welcome here, you know that."

The two of you walked inside to the kitchen, briefly passing by the living room. "Oh, yeah, Savannah and Jessica are with me this weekend," he explained when you noticed the tops of the girls' heads.

Without thinking, you said, "Hello, girls."

They didn't respond, just kept on watching some animated movie. Once you reached the kitchen, you leaned against the kitchen island and watched David with a sad look on your face.

"Is everything okay with you?" He put a finger under your chin and made you look at him "Come on, you can tell me."

"Phil asked me to move in with him," you admitted after some thinking.

"Will you?"

"I don't know yet."

"Do you want this?"

"I'm not sure."

"Why?"

It was a tough question. Sure, you loved Phillip and things were great, but something was missing. And there was another thing too. "I can't get you out of my head since that kiss," you admitted with a guilty expression.

David's lips turned up into a smile. "Is that so?"

"Don't look that smug," you said with a laugh.

"I told you he's not good enough for you," he pointed out quietly.

But just saying this wasn't enough for him. David swept a strand of hair out of your face and slowly leaned closer and closer to kiss you. You should have resisted the temptation, you should have pushed him away, but you couldn't.

"I wish I didn't want you this much," you admitted after he kissed you.

David put his hand under your shirt that began to move up your spine. "Let's do something about that," he whispered into your ear.

You looked back into the living room and saw the two girls still sitting on the couch without paying attention to them. "Your daughters are here in the living room."

"They just started that movie, they won't leave the room until it's over. We'll be quiet. Come with me," he said as he took your hand and began to lead you to his bedroom.

You didn't resist, you let him do whatever he wanted to do. It was a mistake and you were aware of it, but you had trouble thinking straight in his presence. Everything came back from the time you'd spent together and you began to wonder if being with Phillip was a good idea.

In the end you stayed until the morning and performed the walk of shame on the way to your car. You were an idiot. How could you do something like this? And things got worse when you got a message from your boyfriend, asking to meet you in his home.

"What the fuck does this supposed to mean?!" he snapped at you the moment you entered his study where he was waiting for you.

You glanced at the laptop screen he was pointing at and noticed a video of you and David from the night before. "Where did you get this?" you asked worriedly.

"What does it matter?"

"You sent someone to follow me around?"

Phillip took a deep breath as he turned the laptop back to himself and stopped the video. "You've been acting weird, what else was I supposed to do?" he asked.

Laughing, you raised up your hands. "So that's how much you trust me."

"That's rich coming from you. You cheated on me!"

"Look, it only happened once--"

"I don't give a fuck about your excuses or how many times this happened," he told you angrily. "This is a video from yesterday night, when you canceled our date because you weren't feeling well. And he's been bombing you with messages for months now--to what you always answer. I read them, I know exactly what you're talking about."

He crossed a line with this. "You what? Those are private conversations," you pointed out. This is what you got for being with someone who was good at this stuff.

"I don't give a fuck! What matters is that you lied to me. You told me you loved me while you were screwing your ex."

"Phil, let's calm down and have a normal conversation."

"Sure. Then let me tell you about your dad's little scheming. I checked his call records and messages from the past year and he has been communicating with your ex a lot more since we got together. He didn't even try to hide it whenever we talked that he prefers him over me, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was trying to convince him to try to get close to you again."

"You're seeing too much into this."

"Oh, I don't think so. Here, let me show you something," he said as he pushed a few buttons on the laptop then turned it to you.

Based on the logs, these were chats between your father and David. The snippets Phillip collected for you were all about your father trying to convince David that your current boyfriend didn't deserve you, that he was a bad guy for ruining your relationship, and that maybe you should be together again.

Fuck. Why couldn't he stay out of your life?

"Believe me now?" Phillip asked as he put a hand on your cheek to make you focus on him. "Listen, baby, I love you despite all this shit. If you are willing to go no contact with Mason, I might even forgive you. But you need to make up your mind for good," he said, leaning so close that he almost kissed you.

Prying his hands off of you, you took several steps back and buried your hand into your hair as you thought about what to do or say now. You cheated, it was obvious why Phillip was mad at you and you couldn't blame him. But what he had showed you, the truth about your father and David…

"It's too much, isn't it?" he asked, as if he could read your mind.

You were almost crying by the time you got to answering his question with a nod. "I know why you're so angry and I'm so sorry."

"Hey, they manipulated you," Phillip cautiously said as he took your hand. "This asshole got close to you again so he could break us up. But I have faith in us, okay? We can get through this."

"I'll talk to him."

"Setting clear boundaries, I believe." When he saw you look down at your shoes instead of answering, he got worried. "To set clear boundaries, right?"

"I just want to know what he was planning all along first. But," you began upon seeing the look on his face, "maybe I'll visit Dad instead. Yeah, that's what I'll do."

"Good girl," he said before placing a soft kiss on your temple.

•••••••

A few days later you were sitting in your father's living room with a warm cup of tea in front of you. He was sitting in the armchair next to you and watched you with an expectant look on his face, after all the two of you had been sitting there in silence for over five minutes now.

"You've been scheming again, Dad," you finally said. He raised an eyebrow, as if he had no idea what you were talking about. "Come on, I saw the messages you sent David in the past months."

"Look at my little girl, snooping around in other people's business," he told you with a proud smile.

You shook your head at this. "No, I got the messages from Phillip, he's the one who got his hands on them. What were you thinking? That I would go back to David after everything that happened recently?"

Rolling his eyes, Russell took a sip of his coffee. "Your relationship with your boss can't last long. He's using you, I know that."

"You hate him since the moment you met."

"That's not true. I already hated him before that," he admitted with a shrug. "You and David broke up because of that guy. You threw away a relationship that worked so well and what you worked so hard for."

Breathing in then breathing out, you tried to calm yourself. "David was the one who sent me away, don't forget this," you warned your father.

"Because of him. All of this happened because of him. If you and David gave your relationship another shot, you could be happy again. You could quit your job and look for something that comes with less stress, something far from Graves and his manipulation," he tried.

"Why can't you just accept that I'm happy with him?" you tried with your face buried in your hands. "Phil loves me, he even asked me to move in with him."

"Yet you kissed David when you visited Woods," your father pointed out.

You looked up with a shocked expression on your face. "How do you know about that?"

"Woods. Someone saw the two of you and told him about it," he explained.

Damn it, not him as well. Pushing the thought of your father not only scheming with David, but with Frank as well aside, you tried to figure out how to convince him to stay out of your love life without getting into a fight. It was a tough one.

Then he cleared his throat and said, "Okay, I can see you don't like me pushing this… David propaganda. Fine, I'll stop. But answer me this. When you think of getting married and spending the rest of your life with someone, who would you really like to see there with you? David or Graves?"

*******************

Note 2: What? It's over like this? The answer is yes, it's over like this. I couldn't pick one, I love them both. The readers need to make the final decision.

[addictedtostorytelling]

even you, mr. grissom

[thebuhonerodazorrow]

Rogue & Gambit #3 (2023)

Broken promises and broken bones!

Marvel

[sodascherrycola]

Instagram Intros (Pete Wentz’s Kids)

Greyson Peter Lewis Wentz (@greysonlewis)

DOB: March 11th 2003 Age: 21 years old Hometown: Chicago, Illinois Nicknames: Grey, Greys, Gigi S/O: Leanna Patton Kids: None Best Friend(s): Miles Stumph and Lincoln Merritt Aesthetic: Greyson was a wild card for both Pete and Amanda. He was born whilst they were still trying to understand what exactly they were. They knew that they loved each other, that they loved their son. They also knew that they couldn’t live without each other. Even though they had been dating for two years, one when they had found out, they weren’t too sure on the stability of their relationship. As a child, Greyson’s parents were on and off, though he had always had a good experience with their co-parenting. He thought he had the coolest dad in existence and begged his mom to let him go on tour with his dad and band members. He can vividly remember the first time he saw his dad perform. Pete was onstage slamming the ever living life out of his bass and in that moment Greyson knew what he wanted out of life. He wanted to be just like his father. When he was about 15 he had started a band and tried it out a few times with different people, but truly found his passion working with the young Miles Stumph. Miles always found Greyson as sort of a big brother and adored him in every way. Besides they grew up together watching their dad perform along side one another, why wouldn’t it be a good fit? And a good fit it was. They were touring two years later.

Mia Violet Blake Wentz (@mimipriv)

DOB: September 24th 2006 Age: 18 years old Hometown: Chicago, Illinois Nicknames: Mi, Mimi, Mini S/O: Graham Hill Kids: None Best Friend(s): Stella Stumph and Sasha Hensley Aesthetic: Mia Wentz’s nickname wasn’t mini for a reason. She was Mandy’s mini me through and through. Mia inherited both her mother’s lively spirit and beauty inside and out. It was funny to her mom, how her and her best friend Stella reminded her of her and her own best friend, Stella’s mother Anna. Mia was constantly lovin’ on her dad, just like Mandy. Always dancing in the car, and the shower, her room, and the grocery store, just like Mandy. Pete could’ve sworn that Mia was his wife only smaller and squeakier, it was something he found most endearing and he was proud of his baby for finding love in everything. She had this in-the-moment attitude about her from the beginning. It was an on-going joke between her parents that she was born early because she couldn’t wait to meet everyone and dance on something other than her mother’s bladder. When Mia was around five or six, she became the Fall Out Boy spokesperson. Everyone in the band claims that she’s the reason the hiatus ended and the new age of FOB began. Considering how young she had been when they broke up in the first place, she had a yearning to go on tour with her dad the way her older brother used to reminisce on with her. All of this to say, Mia was the reason we still have Fall Out Boy to this day.

David Alexander Cole Wentz (@davesoncolewentz)

DOB: August 7th 2010 Age: 14 years old Hometown: Chicago, Illinois Nicknames: Dave, Davey, D S/O: Elyse Waller Kids: None Best Friend(s): Zackery Waller and Isabella Strong Aesthetic: David hated his name. He hated it more than anything else in the entire world. His mother named him after his great grandfather, a man she loved as a little girl who had sadly passed away when she turned 21. Grandpa David was the only one in her family that accepted Pete, liked him and thought he was fantastic for his granddaughter. After her family had practically disowned her, she decided to live with him for a while once he got sick. Pete had made sure to ask for his approval to marry Amanda and the rest is history. Pete was actually the one to suggest naming their second son after the man. David despised him for it. He thought it sounded too old in his 2nd grade class of Mason’s, Jackson’s, and Ryan’s. He hated going to school because of the constant bullying he was facing. It wasn’t until he blew up on Pete one day that his father finally had had enough and lied down with his boy to have a chance at making the situation better. He had to explain why he was named after Grandpa David, then why his mother’s family disliked his father. He had to explain that he didn’t like his old man name either, but it suits him like David did him. Why should he want to have the same name as Jackson who sits beside him. Daveson would sound pretty silly huh Davey? It was a tough pill to swallow for a seven year old, but it worked, sort of. He had yelled a lot of hateful things at his dad, an outburst of all the anger and frustration built up from his peers who had hurt him. He cried to his dad after, the sense of guilt washing over him. Pete took him out of school the next day for a hangout with his boy and it became the norm every Tuesday until David got into high school and started skipping with his buddies. Pete still holds a special place in his heart for the two David’s, and the time he spent with them each.

Bruin Chester Bear Wentz

DOB: December 9th 2013 Age: 11 years old Hometown: Chicago, Illinois Nicknames: Bru, Boston, Ted, Teddy S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Hattie Stumph and Ruby Trohman Aesthetic: Bruin was Pete's duplicate. They were the same person inside and out. He had his father’s curls and loud personality. He oftentimes had teacher’s phone his parents due to his active nature. He had a hard time with distractions and staying still for even a minute. He was diagnosed with ADHD when he was 8. At first he was embarrassed and didn’t like all the extra attention he received from staff at his school, but then he started doing really well in class, something he had difficulty with before. He loved his older brothers, always looking up to them for advice. David was the best with this, knowing what it’s like to be a younger brother himself. He taught him how to play the drums, something that could help with Bruin’s need to keep busy and stimulated. He actually got really good at this. His Uncle Andy even suggested him coming up on stage and playing with the band. Pete and Amanda were quite private with their family and children, trying their best to keep them away and safe from paparazzi and weird fans. So it’s safe to say that they were not too thrilled with the idea of their 9 year old being on stage in front of thousands of people with their cameras out. The rest of the band came to Bruin’s defence though saying it’s a good thing to show off what the kid has been dying to working on. Bruin had begged his parents all day all night until they finally agreed on one show one song and that’s it. Bruin freaked and called everyone he knew. It was truly a beautiful moment when the kid went on stage and jammed out with everyone, his dad was really proud that he could share this with his son. And you know damn straight David was in the curtain watching his little brother have the time of his life.

Romeo Edward Brookes Wentz

DOB: October 17th 2020 Age: 4 years old Hometown: Chicago, Illinois Nicknames: Ro, Rome, Romey S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Charlotte Stumph and Lucky Otto Aesthetic: Romeo was by far the quietest out of the Wentz bunch. He rarely cried and when he did it came out more like a whimper. He was so quiet that he never woke his parents up during the night when he wailed and his mother had to put an alarm at night to check on him. Romey had a very good emotional radar. He was in touch with his emotions at a young age. Ro would communicate to his parents the same way you would see an adult do, and it shocked them how eerily well spoken their baby was. His first would was please when his father was feeding him, Pete of course taking too long talking to his wife, Romeo reached for the spoon waved in his face and said “Please” in the tiniest voice you could barely hear it. His parents heard and freaked out. He couldn’t even cry, just reach his tiny hand closer to his food. Ro didn’t like his father’s music, being a little too loud for his mini ears, and he wasn’t afraid to tell people. His Uncle Patrick invested in baby headphones for him at the next show. He was actually quite close to his Uncle Trick. They would just chat before shows about anything that came to Romey’s little brain. Things like how does the sun get energy and why are cats tinier than dogs. Things that Patrick didn’t know how to answer and so they would google it together. Bonding.

Evie Amara Inez Wentz

DOB: October 17th 2020 Age: 4 years old Hometown: Chicago, Illinois Nicknames: Eve, Evvy S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Charlotte Stumph and Lola Roberts Aesthetic: Evie was the opposite of her twin brother Romeo. She was energetic and giggly, always running around, always trying to do something. She was much more ambitious too. While Romeo sat in his crib waiting for his mom’s alarm to go off, Evie was climbing out to remind her parents. She joined dance when she was 2 and has been dancing ever since. She makes sure that every single one of her Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents, and Siblings can attend her recital. She had loads of energy, and loved to sing along with her dad’s band and mom’s playlists. Evie loved playing mom with Mandy and PJ, inviting herself to dress and change her little brother, of course with the help of her parents. She would stand on a stool and feed him, watch as he played in his playpen, you name it, she helped. Eve was all around a good kid, knows her manners and is an early riser despite her parents praying she would just go back to bed. Pete was a big push over for his youngest daughter too. Oh you want a puppy? Here you go and toys and a new collar. The puppy’s name was Robbie if you were wondering. Still don’t know why she named him that.

[cherie-doll]

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Convincing Them To Get A Pet

⊱⊰ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, Hesh Walker, Logan Walker, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

You kept bringing stray cats home

Every time you walk through the door, hands buried in the pockets of your tightly wrapped coat, John turns his head and asks "What've you got in there?"

"I don't know what you're talking about" and a meow can be heard coming from inside your coat

He makes you take it off to find a cat and her kittens snug and warm in the inner pockets

"They were cold..." you say sheepishly when he sighs

Ghost

He has to take care of you and now you want a pet??

Says he has enough on his plate with just you

You��re blowing up his phone sending him videos of animals or shoving the phone in his face

“Simon, Simon! Look at this! We should totally get one.”

“…That’s a spider. Why would you want that?”

Soap

He had also been wanting a pet for some time now, he had an exotic animal in mind until you got chickens

"...Are we going to eat it?"

"Johnny, no."

Now he has to wake up early and feed them every day when the sun rises to when the sun goes down

The chickens have grown on him and he's even named them, gets upset when you or someone jokes about eating them

Gaz

Is totally fine with any pet as long as it’s nothing too out of the ordinary, so you got bunnies

You'll let them roam around the house sometimes and Kyle hates when you do that because they tend to chew things and it's somehow always his things

Imagine Kyle falling asleep in your bed with the pink comforters and the adorable fluffy baby bunnies (yes i'm making a reference to that one tiktok)

Roach

Unfortunately for both of you, you are weak when it comes to animals

You’re both fawning over the cats and dogs in the animal shelter, cuddling with the baby goats at the local farm even if they’re chewing your clothes and head butting you

Together you’ve owned your weird assortment of pets; ducks, goats, spiders, snakes etc.

I headcanon Gary is a nerd when it comes to snakes and bugs

Alejandro

In the moment, you manage to convince him pretty easily, until you actually bring home the dog you wanted

Pretends he doesn’t like petting it or getting near it

Even curses when he has to get up at night to let it out for it to use the bathroom

But ofc within a month he’s totally smitten over your pit bull

Spends money on buying it nice collars and food, taking it out for a drive in his truck frequently

When cooking on the grill he always buys extra meat just for your dog

Phillip Graves

I like to think he has a soft spot for animals and agreed to going along with you when deciding what animal to adopt

What he didn't expect was to be pulling into a ranch and looking at horses

He expected to be looking at dogs or cats or a fish even

Now he's helping you muck out the stall for the beautiful pinto you bought

Helps brush her down and keep its mane and tail smooth to enter it in shows and competitions

Keegan

He knew you'd been wanting a pet for a while now because every time you visited someone who owned a pet you'd asked if you could play or pet them

You probably spent longer bonding with animals than with humans

Decided to surprise you with a talking parrot

Every now and then he'll teach it cute phrases like "I love you", the parrot will sometimes pick up some colorful language from Keegan

Hesh Walker

He caved in and originally thought of gifting you a pretty Siamese cat before thinking he'd like to play a little prank on you

As a joke, he gave you two rats, each with a pink bow on them

David would've started laughing if it weren't for you growing attached to them, eventually he did tell you he intended to buy you a cat

The rats were quite intelligent and learned tricks fast and frequently played games so both you and David decided to keep them and forget about the original plan of getting a cat

Logan Walker

He could never say no to you

However, you had owned a dog before, Logan wasn't fond of cats and you didn't want something like a lizard or a fish that would stay inside a tank all the time

The perfect opportunity came up when you had the chance to adopt a baby cow, a calf who had lost its mother

You both agreed, there was extra unused backyard space

The calf was named "Moonpie"

König

You really wanted a pet, but König couldn't understand why

"We already have a pet"

It was an iguana, which König already owned when you moved in with him

You weren't very fond of it because of an anecdote that occurred the first time you were over at König's place; you had seen a long tail in between the couch cushions and thinking it was a stuffed animal or a toy you pull at it only to see the iguana moving

It still freaks you out to this day when you remember how flaky and weird the scales felt

Horangi

He agreed and suggested he be the one to go pick out a pet from the shelter

You stood at the door when you heard his car ready to meet your new pet only to be met with a plastic container

Upon opening the box you're shocked to see he brought home a snake, he just snickers as he picks it up, holding it as the boa wraps around his arm biceps

"You wanted a pet, didn't you?"

Nikto

You had spent months trying to convince him to get a pet, to which he kept saying no to

"Come on Andre, a dog wouldn't be as bad as a kid"

He had no reaction other than just a grunt, but next time he came home from deployment he set a portable crate down

You rushed excitedly when you heard squeals thinking it was a puppy, after three weeks you notice the brownish fur begin to lighten and spots appearing

"Where did you say you got the dog from?''

"Did I ever say it was a dog?"

Post inspired by this cutie:

Everyone say "Thank you Corazòn"

[agrimmind]

Rogue and Gambit #2 Writer: Stephanie Phillips Artist: Carlos Gomez Color Artist: David Curiel Letterer: VC's Ariana Maher Design: Tom Muller & Jay Bowen Cover Artist: Steve Morris

[redbelles]

MASTERS OF THE AIR — insp. x and x

An Irish Airman Foresees His Death, W.B. Yeats // Deluge, Leila Chatti // The Torn Up Road, Richard Siken // On the Rainy River, Tim O'Brien // Late Poems, Margaret Atwood // Love Letters, Victoria Chang // Since You Ask, Carl Phillips // Pompeii, Bastille // How to Drown a Boy, J. Bruce Fuller // [journal entry], Henry David Thoreau // Flower Bomb, Vuong Quoc Vu // it was you, Salma Deera // War and Remembrance, Herman Wouk

[mrshesh]

little hot things he does - mw2 men & cod: ghosts men

overview: what the title says! little hot things he does. :)

pairing: mw2 men & cod: ghosts men x gender neutral reader, romantic

genre: fluff, spice?

a/n: i saw somebody make something like this a while ago, and I thought i'd make one for our gorgeous men ahahah 😭

x When you two are walking in public, especially in crowded places, he sets his hand on your lower back and guides you as you walk, keeping you close to him. 

simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, john price, phillip graves, horangi, logan walker, thomas merrick

x Instead of saying “Yes?” or “Yeah?” when you ask him a question, he says “Hm?” or “Mhm?” <3

könig, john price, keegan russ, logan walker

x He places his hand on the back of the passenger seat’s headrest when he reverses his car and looks back/behind him. ���

simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, kyle "gaz" garrick, phillip graves, könig, horangi, david "hesh" walker, alex "ajax" johnson

x He leans on the doorframe, like a lot. He does it by instinct! It doesn’t matter if he’s resting his shoulder on the side of the doorframe or if his hands grab the top of the frame - he just leans on it a ton.

simon "ghost" riley, john price, alejandro vargas, elias "scarecrow" walker, thomas merrick, david "hesh" walker

x When he speaks to you, he gives you his undivided attention, his gaze so intense you can feel your heart in your throat. His eyes don’t move from yours, even if yours wander around. 

simon “ghost” riley, john "soap" mactavish, alejandro vargas, könig, logan walker, keegan russ, elias "scarecrow" walker

[god-has-entered-my-body]

What time you coming out? - M.H x Reader // pt.1

A/N: Lenas writer debut??? Omg??? This has a bunch of references to fics like the cellophane house (written by the lovely @vinylandcoffeecollection, srsly check out their work!). It's a bit angsty? Not really but angst will come this is a chaptered fic. Based off fallingforyou, hence the title. Thank you @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for beta reading and putting up with me xx

wc: 11k

part two

February, 2008

“I'm not sure we should be doing this, neither of us is a professional hairdresser in any capacity” 

Mötley Crüe’s ‘Public Enemy #1’ blares through the small speaker set on top of the toilet lid, the music reverberating off the bathroom's tiled walls. Matty attempts to brush the bleach onto your hair, narrowly missing your eyebrow for what felt like the sixth time. You'd prefer to not come out of this situation looking like 90s madonna if you could help it. 

“Could you maybe not get the stuff on my face? I'm not sure I'd look as amazing as I do with bleached brows,” you say, flicking Mattys hand away from your hair, straightening your posture on top of the sink. Your elbow accidently knocks into the faucet and you curse out loud. 

“You're right love, you'd look well hideous without brows” Matty retorts, laughing in your face. He's right, doesn't mean he has to say it.

“At least I have any sort of eyebrows, I'd get yours filled in if I was you.” Now it's your turn to laugh at him, his jaw hitting the floor at your comment. He clutches his chest with his hand, bending over for dramatic effect as if to say: “You wound me”. You fall into each other's arms, fighting over the ipod once again.

The song changes, and Matty resumes his attempts at bleaching your hair properly, failing once again. It had been a stupid, stoned impulse decision to buy the bleach at all. The local drugstore sold it for cheap, and you had some pocket change on you. Matty wanted you to buy the red dye, and you dismissed him immediately, because even he knew you'd look absolutely terrible as a redhead. 

You hum along softly to David Bowie's “Suffragette City”. Bowie was your Idol. The song reminds you of him. Of Matty. It reminds you of when you first met.

—------------------------------------------------------

You were 15, pacing the street late at night, your boyfriend was blowing up your phone. Insincere apologies and “i love you”’s filled your screen. 4 missed calls. Tears were streaming down your face, making you not quite able to see straight. 

The song playing, was blaring in your headphones, almost deafening. The song didn't fit at all to your current situation, but that didn't bother you.

It wasn't long before you reached a bus stop, sitting down. You didn't even know where you were. 

Suddenly, like it was out of your control, you let out broken sobs, no longer silently crying. How fucking embarrassing.

You're not sure how long you’d been sitting there, in the dark, shivering in the cruel November weather. 

You hadn't even noticed the person walking up to you. 

He’d positioned himself in front of you, twisting his neck to get a look underneath your hood.

“You alright?” his voice sounded soft, concerned even. Through muffled sobs, you managed to look up at him. 

He had a thick, fluffy jacket on. Oddly feminine for bloke, and you were pretty sure it was a women's coat. It basically swallowed him whole. You almost laughed at the sight. It almost made you forget about the night's events. 

You’d had yet another fight with your boyfriend, Phillip. The two of you fought a lot, but never like this. Sure, he’d said some hurtful things, things you maybe shouldn't have forgiven as quickly as you did, but he had never, ever, gotten violent with you. Until tonight.

You'd barely registered it when it happened, your brain not properly processing his actions. In the midst of his screaming, he raised his hand. Raised. his. hand. 

It came down with a crash against your left cheek, the sound echoing through the house. Because he did, in fact, have his own flat. Because 24 year olds usually have that. 

Everything hit you at once. You'd managed to pick yourself up off the ground at a speed which would have given even world record holders a run for their money. You didn't bother grabbing anything else, you just needed to get out, now. 

You could faintly hear his voice calling out from behind you, begging you to please, please come back. And what? Let him put his hands on you again? No way. A rare moment of clarity.

Fucking cunt 

You’re brought back to reality by the sound of the stranger's voice. 

“I’m Matty.” he offered his hand, and you shook it. “What're you doing out here in the cold? Its fuckin’ freezing.” He's right, it was cold. It hadn't occurred to you to take your coat with you.

You stuttered out a pathetic response of your name, barely making eye contact with him. A few beats pass before Matty starts ruffling around in his coat pockets. Raising your eyebrows, you watch him.

You can hear the faint sound of keys in his right pocket, and it's not long before he pulls out a joint from his left. It looks crumpled and old, like it had been there for a while. 

“Spliff? It looks like you need it more than me.” He chuckles, and it somehow makes you feel better. He makes a move to sit next to you, and you twitch slightly when his shoulder touches yours. The bench is quite narrow, so you know it's not on purpose. It doesn't bother you quite as much as it should, given he is a stranger. 

He takes out his lighter. It looks old and used, the black plastic chipping off around the top. It looks like it's a miracle it even works. You can see white writing along the side of it. M.H. Initials? His initials? Matty H something.  

He starts burning the tip. Rotating the joint to get an even burn, you watch his movements closely, taking in some of his features. 

His hair was curly but frizzy, you could tell he didn't pay it much mind. His features seemed soft, almost feminine. He was clean shaven, his pale skin a stark contrast to the dark brown of his hair. 

Matty lets you take the first drag, stating “The first hit’s the best, and I've always been a gentleman”, flashing a grin your way. That made you laugh. You take a drag, letting the warm feeling spread through your body.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked timidly, his voice lowering. 

“Absolutely not.” You mutter, looking him straight in the eyes for what seems like the first time that night. A smile.  

—-------------------------------------------------------

“D’you think I'd look good as a blonde? I feel like I'd smash it,” Matty says, inspecting his hair in the mirror behind you. He has gorgeous locks, and you're constantly telling him to try and take care of them, he just doesn't listen. You study his features before giving him an answer.

“Maybe. Either that or you'd look like a bad hooker,” Matty gasps, shoving your shoulder in protest. The movement  makes your elbow bang against the faucet again, but you ignore the pain this time 

“I'll let you know i'd make an amazing hooker, thanks very much,” He proclaims quite loudly, making the both of you burst into a laughing fit. 

You take the brush from Matty, twirling in your hand. George had taught you how to do that. An idea pops into your head. 

“We could give you a few blonde highlights, just to try it out. There's no need for you to go full Elle Woods immediately” A giggle escapes your lips, picturing Matty with long, blonde hair. That’d be a sight. 

“Let's do it, right now,” he breathes, visibly excited.

“Really? Adam’d take the absolute piss out of you, you know.” Matty rolls his eyes obnoxiously before he speaks. “Well then let Adam hold on to his toxic ideas of masculinity, I need a change.” This piques your interest. Matty? Need a change? Weird. 

“What, did some bird break your heart this time? That's new, even for you Matthew,”

You can see him visibly cringe at your use of his full name. You know he hates it, and that is exactly why you do it. Getting a rise out of him is your favorite pastime. 

“Switch with me then,” you say, and he obliges, letting you hop off the counter. You mix up a new batch of bleach and part off his hair into small sections. Little pink hair bands hold his curls in place. You shoot him a look and he nods, giving you the go-ahead. The bleach goes on smoothly, your practiced hand much less prone to mistakes than Mattys.

It doesn't take long before you're both sitting on your bed with foils in your hair. You manage to snap a picture of Matty on your polaroid camera. The light reflects off the foils, distorting the picture slightly. Matty demands to see it, but you decide to keep it for yourself. Can't get everything you want.  

It's Mattys' turn on the music. 

You've decided on a turn system for music when you're together, to avoid the gnarly fights you used to have over who gets to control the ipod.

He picks the latest Deftones album. It's not really your taste, and you tell him as much. 

“S’not my fault your music taste consists of pop trash. Get well soon”, now it's your turn to shove him, and he almost falls off the bed. Your fights over music happened frequently. He insisted on listening to real music, while you couldn't care less if it sounded good. 

The timer dings and you both get up to wash your hair in the sink. Water splashes everywhere, absolutely soaking the bathroom. You don't care. It's just water. 

Towels litter the bathroom floor, soaking up the mess. Matty helps you dry your hair after you promise to help with his. The warm air feels nice on your neck. 

“I like it, it makes me look camp,” Matty states, admiring himself in the mirror. Of course he'd say something like that. 

“You look great, now get dressed, I've messaged Hann. He's picking us up at half 11” 

Adam was one of your best mates, and the only one who had a car. You and Matty were still in school, along with George, another one of your friends. Adam and Ross shared a flat on the outskirts of the city. Adam's mother had gifted him a car for his 18th birthday last year. A bright red Kia. Bumper stickers littered the back, your favorite reading ‘Vehicle of legends” 

Matty had borrowed one of your tops, specifically, a mesh top you'd gotten from Hollister a few weeks prior. It was adorned with a black tank top underneath, paired with the black skinny jeans you're convinced have fused with his legs at this point. 

His hair had dried, dark curls now in contrast with blonde streaks. They framed his face. He looked good. 

You’d gone for a more colorful ensemble, opting for baggy jeans instead of skinny ones. The bottom had already been well ripped up from years of dragging them on the ground. You paired said jeans with a wine-red off the shoulder jumper, the black strap of your bralette peaking out. You’d always loved that color. It reminded you of your favorite flowers, red roses.

The window closed softly, and you silently thanked God you lived on the first floor. Adam was already parked down the road from your house, impatiently waiting for the two of you. The radio was playing as you got in. Matty immediately started going on about how pop music has ruined the music scene and how it was all 'soulless, meaningless droning' and 'had no feeling anymore'. He always did this, and you'd learned to tune it out by then. 

The drive was short, and you arrived at your destination not long after you’d set off. The air smelled like water and wet pavement. It had been pissing down earlier in the day.  

‘The spot’ was an abandoned paper factory, affectionately renamed “Caroline's house” for any eavesdropping parents.  

Carolines had been abandoned for well over 5 years before you started hanging out there, not many knew about it.

The three of you had already made your way through the back entrance. The front had been blocked off years ago, a futile attempt at keeping kids out. There was one specific room you always went to, and that was the office. It had a huge terrace with an amazing view of the city below. The glowing lights made you feel small and irrelevant in the vastness of the world. 

The night was bright under the full moon, making it easy to see outside. Adam always brought an emergency flashlight with him when you went to Carolines. He was the voice of reason in the midst of the chaos. The responsible one. He always made sure everyone got home safe, talked your way out of situations with coppers on multiple occasions, and knew when to tell the bartender to switch drinks to water or juice. You’d always thank him the morning after. 

“What even is your shirt, mate,” Adam asked with a grin on his face. He loved to take the piss out of Matty for his camp-ness. No harm no foul, Matty would do the exact same to him when the opportunity presented itself. Eyeing him up and down, he shook his head and went back to picking at his nails.   

“She let me borrow it for tonight. Looks good, yeah?” Matty shoots back. 

“Yeah sure, that and those white streaks in your hair make you look like a proper girl, you know” 

You have to laugh at his statement, because it does ring true. From a certain distance, anyone could mistake Matty for a woman. 

“You wish I was a girl, it’d make you feel less guilty about your sex fantasies, innit?” Matty cackles at his own words. Adam chucks a lighter at him, and misses. It instead bounces off the railing of the terrace and clatters down onto the ground somewhere behind you. 

That was your cue to take out the small baggy from the pocket of your jeans. Going to look for the lighter Adam had just thrown, you turn around to see he’d already snatched your papes and weed, and started to roll a spliff. 

“Oh come on, I look away for a second and you steal my weed. What, are you too broke to buy your own?” You huffed, sitting down on the floor next to him. 

“Girls don't roll their own spliffs. You should know that by now, love” he said with a wink. 

Cue eye roll. 

“Oh thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Hann? Fuck off.” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. This was never a display of chivalry, it was simply Adams' way of trying to get under your skin. Your stubborn self wouldn't let him, of course. Flashing him an award winning smile, you lay back on your elbows and eye him as he rolls your joint for you. 

Matty was preoccupied with gathering enough cardboard so he could sit on the floor comfortably. The three of you couldn't be arsed bringing in furniture from the office, so you were left with the cold, unforgiving concrete floor of the terrace to sit on. 

The minutes ticked by and Adam took his sweet time, presenting the spliff with a look of pride. You reach for it, seeing as you already had the lighter in your hand. Instead of handing it to you. Adam shakes his head. 

“Girls dont light their own spliffs, either” You scoff at that, though deciding against smacking him upside the head. You hand him the lighter.  

Mattys giggles can be faintly heard over your bickering, and Adam finally lights up. The distinct earthy smell fills up the air around you. They both let you have the first drag, stating something along the lines of “Ladies first” another eye roll.  

“Fucking wankers”, you mutter under your breath, and finally, you inhale. It hits you almost immediately, a soft, fuzzy feeling that reverberates through your veins into every inch of your body. The two of them let out a laugh at your expression, utterly euphoric. 

Adam takes the next drag, hitting him just as hard as it did you. He leans against the glass sliding door, letting his eyes droop closed. 

“Fucking hell, this is some strong weed.” He lets out a rough cough, “Where’d you even get it from?” 

“Oh y’know, just some guy. Same as always I s’pose,” 

Matty spoke “What, d’you shag him or something? No one just gives out this type of premium stuff on a whim,” 

This makes you chuck the grinder at him. It hits him square in the chest. You hum contentedly, grinning at him in amusement when he doubles over in pain. You bicker back and forth, calling each other names. Adam passes the spliff back to you, and you take another hit. 

Time passes slowly. The clouds slowly reveal more and more of the full moon. It is quite beautiful tonight, you notice. 

Adam produces a bottle of tequila from his ‘gay-ass tote bag’ as Ross calls it. You take turns taking swigs straight from the bottle, Matty managing to spill some onto his mesh top, making quite literally everything reek of alcohol.

You felt good. The high mixed with the healthy amount of tequila made you feel like you were floating. You could tell Matty was just as hammered as you, seeing as he was now straddling Adams lap, trying to kiss him. 

After multiple attempts at getting him off, Matty stood up on his own, stating that he didn't want Hann to pop a boner au cause de his womanly features.   

The three of you laugh and laugh until you finish the spliff. You’d never had a good tolerance for anything, whether it be weed or alcohol. You weren't particularly small, it just always hit you way harder than Adam or Ross. Even Matty managed to pull himself together when the situation called for it. You, however, were stumbling and tripping over your feet the entire walk home. It had been pissing down the entire morning. Puddles littered the streets, not an ideal weather for someone who was too wasted to even have any sort of depth perception.  

Adam had to leave suddenly, picking up a last minute shift at the shop he worked at. It was in the opposite direction of where you came from, leaving you and Matty to walk home. 

It wasn't a long walk, 30 odd minutes or so. It was made significantly longer by your inability to walk in a straight line to save your life. Echoing laughs filled the streets as Matty helped you trudge along. Your pants dragged on the floor as usual, which meant they were also dragging through the numerous puddles, soaking them. 

You stop suddenly, looking down and pouting at the darkened material of your pants. For some inexplicable reason, this made you stomp your feet like a child. Matty broke out in uncontrollable laughter, tears forming in his eyes. You were actually acting like a child.

“I don't know why you insist on wearing those insanely baggy pants. Look at me! My pants don't get wet AND my ass looks phenomenal in skinny jeans” He twirls around you, making you feel slightly dizzy.

“Oh fuck off!! Not everyone is an attention slag like you, have some decency for once in your life!” You retort, shoving him out of your line of sight. Due to your state, Matty quickly catches up to you. 

The steps of your house come quicker than expected. Both of you make your way to the east side of the first floor, where your bedroom window remains slightly ajar. You'd wedged an old shirt between it to keep it from closing all the way. You'd gotten sneaking out down to an art, always knowing when, where and how. Your mother had caught you once. It was your first time. You knew not to make those same mistakes again.

Matty helped you hop onto the windows ledge, his hands grabbing at your sides. While he looked frail, Matty was actually quite strong, lifting you up without breaking a sweat. 

You're sitting on the edge, slightly taller than him now. Peering down, you reach your arms out. The two of you hugged tightly, whispering quiet “goodnight”s and “sleep well”s. Saying goodbye after a night out often felt strangely melancholic, you never wanted the other to leave. 

You've been attached at the hip since that night. He’d convinced you to break up with Phillip, stating he was a bastard who shouldn't be allowed near women ever again.

Matty went on to introduce you to his mates after you’d found out you went to the same highschool. That was nearly 3 years ago now. 

Late nights often make you wonder what would have happened if you hadn't gone to that specific bus stop and met Matty. If he had ignored your crying instead of offering you weed and sitting down next to you. He’d always been charming, like a magnet, he attracted everyone around him. Sure, he was a bit pretentious at times, but everyone has their faults. 

You roll over and try to sleep, slowly coming down from your high. You made a mental note to take it easy next time, maybe pace yourself. It was hard to know your limits when it came to substances, and Matty was the same way. Adam was the ever responsible one, never too drunk or high, always the parent. You were grateful for him, knowing what situations you'd be stuck in if Adam had not been there to smooth things over. 

The tiredness hits you in waves. Glancing at the clock left of your desk, it read 3:26 am. Fuck. You try to ignore the fact that you had to be up in about 4 hours. You close your eyes, welcoming the rest. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A harsh knocking sounded from the direction of your window, scaring the shit out of you. You bolt up, pissed at the disturbance. Turning to face the window, and are met with a familiar grin. Matty. 

It takes all of 5 seconds of him being in your room before you start cursing at him for waking you up like that. He simply shrugs his shoulders and sits in his designated chair. A maroon sofa chair in the corner in front of your bed. It even has M.H carved into the wood, because Matty had some sort of fetish for carving his initials into things. A sign of ownership? It made you wonder. 

Shuffling around the room, you kick your still wet jeans off into the corner, instead picking up a denim skirt. You’d wanted to wear that same red top to school, but seeing as you had fallen asleep wearing it, you chucked it into the same corner as the pants. 

A pink baby tee caught your eye from the chair Matty was sitting in. You silently point at it and he passes it to you. This isn't the first time you've changed in front of him. It didn't happen often, but what was the point of kicking him out? It's not like he was actively staring anyway.

After quickly changing, you go to put on some makeup. Makeup made you feel pretty, pretty enough to go outside. The only person who sees your bare face regularly is Matty. Maybe George. You didn't go anywhere without it.

You can feel Matty looking at you from the corner of your eye. Raising your eyebrows at him, you ask him what he's staring at. 

“D’you reckon i can try some of that?” he gestures vaguely at the eyeshadow brush in your hand “I think i’d look class with my new highlights.” he twirls his hair around his finger, giving you a look.

You look at him skeptically, before breaking out into a smile. Matty smiles back. It's not long before he’s sat in front of you, wincing whenever the brush makes contact with his eyelid. You tell him hes just not used to it, and to just stay still, for fucks sake. 

Once you're done, you take a step back to admire your work. You have to admit, he looks good. Really good. His eyes were lined with a dark purple shadow, making them appear slightly bigger. He takes his fingers, slightly smudging the out corners, giving him a catty look. 

“I think you might even look even better than me,” you say, looking him up and down. This is one of those rare moments where you can't read Mattys' expression at all. Finally, he opens his mouth

“No one could look better than you, trust me,”  

A beat of silence before he speaks again

“I do look ravishing though, d’you reckon Adam'll like this more than the highlights?” He always manages to make himself laugh. Then in typical Matty fashion, he pulls out a beat up looking joint from the pocket of his too tight jeans. 

“Fancy a spliff?” 

“Matty, for christ's sake, we have school in about an hour, and you want to smoke now?” 

“It's the only true way to get through Mr. Henderson's maths class, you know it'll be unbearable if we don't.” translation: please smoke with me. He gives you a look, because you know he's right. 

It was too late to protest. He’d already made his way to open your window, knowing how much you hate stinking up your room.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, and you find your place next to him. 

The wind and rain had calmed down, so Matty had no difficulty lighting it. The smell filled your senses, almost overwhelming you. You were thankful for the fresh air.

He placed the spliff between your lips, watching you intently as you inhaled. Your orange lip gloss had rubbed off the filter, and transferred onto his lips. The weed wasnt as strong as last nights, but still, the sight of Mattys glossed lips made you break out into a fit of giggles. Time seemed irrelevant up until the point you had to run to catch your bus. Sweaty and out of breath, you sat down in your usual spot. 

You can hear comments and insults being thrown at Matty from the back of the bus, but neither of you paid much mind. Matty was high as a kite, and too loopy (hungover) from the previous night to offer up one of his witty retorts. Instead, both of you gave them the bird from over the seat.

Matty was leaning against you, his arms hooked into yours. Neither of you spoke, listening to the soft rumbling of the bus. You stank of weed, anyone could smell it on you. Remembering a perfume bottle in your handbag, you take it out and douse yourself, as well as Matty in it. 

“Oh for fucks sake, now everything smells like Jimmy Choo Illicit!” Matty whined, burying his head in his hands. “Couldn't you have picked a manlier perfume? I'm already walking a very thin line with all of this” He vaguely gestures to himself. 

“Would you rather get kicked out after coming to school smelling like a fucking dispensary? Think ahead, Matthew!” He cringes visibly

“No need to get out the full government name, jesus” he shuffles up against you, and you can see his eyes are a light shade of red. There's no way the two of you would get through first lesson unnoticed. 

George was already waiting for you guys at your stop. Greeting him with a hug, you try to avoid eye contact, yet somehow, he knows. 

“Hey, you alright-?” He cranes his neck to get a better look at your face 

“Are you–? Are you high??” He laughs out loud, smacking your arm to stabilize himself. You shoot him a death stare, but you can feel a laugh coming too. Matty let out a sarcastic haha before kicking George as a way to say get on with it, we have class.

The walk to the room through the sea of people in the halls feels like a claustrophobic hell. B.O ridden teenagers rub up against the three of you, some even (quite violently) shoving past. 

It's a miracle you make it without Matty losing his mind at one of the hecklers. School was actual hell for Matty, and by proxy, you. Insults were thrown at him without a second thought, and the makeup he’d adorned today surely didn't help the comments.

He never let it truly get to him. He didn't care, and that's what you loved so much about him. This part of the city was set back about fifteen years in terms of acceptance and progressivity, so his flowery backpack and femininity wasn't exactly welcomed.

Adam had always taken the piss out of him for his outfits since they were boys, but he never, ever meant it seriously. They were like brothers, those two, and no amount of shit from other people (irrelevants, as Matty would put it) would be able to break them apart. 

The way the room was set up, there were six tables of four, with two people always facing another two. You had sat in the seat next to George, with Matty sitting (well, more like laying) across the other two chairs opposite you. Mr. Henderson had given up on trying to get Matty to sit right a long time ago, instead just flat out ignoring him. It was always easier to fail than to teach. 

“Fucking poofter, that one,” you can hear someone saying from behind you. You know they mean Matty. 

Matty blows them both a kiss before getting flipped off by the shorter one. He loved taking the piss out of the people who insulted him, throwing them off. 

George questions mattys makeup, and you tell him it was his idea. George had always supported Matty, using his insanely tall stature to fend off anyone giving him a hard time. 

The lesson was going by at a snail's pace, with Matty being his usual self, interrupting at every possible moment. It was so obvious he was off his tits, and Mr. Henderson looked suspicious. A particularly loud laugh from George had prompted him to throw you all out. You couldn't care less, getting up immediately.

Matty picked up his things from the floor, making a show out of bending over in front of the two boys that had insulted him earlier. They both scrunch their faces in disgust, muttering under their breaths. A giggle escapes you as they stare daggers.

“Fucking cunt,” one of them says, and now it’s your turn to blow them a kiss. 

The three of you trudge down the halls, slowly but surely coming down from your highs. George suggests going to Ross and Adams flat, seeing as it's just a few bus stops away from the school. They share a flat above a Sainsburys, which is optimal for late night munchies. Adam even works there, so there's always opportunities to sneak a packet of crisps or a can of cola. 

The bus stinks of sweat and mildew, as did all buses in britain. You get used to the stench after a while, your legs propped up onto George and Mattys laps. The back seat was always your favorite, giving you ample space to stretch a bit. You and George share headphones while Matty takes a quick power nap. He always lets you pick the music, and today it was Radioheads ‘No Surprises’. The music plays softly as buildings and trees pass by the window. The day was quite sunny, the light reflecting off of the windows of houses and offices. You'd sobered up enough to be able to think clearly by now. 

These days were the best. They felt calm, like you could forget every other fucked up thing in your life. Your mother, your coursework. Nothing else existed in your little bubble except the people you were with. It felt peaceful, like a breath of fresh air. 

Matty stirred awake as the bus halted to a stop, yawning for dramatic effect. He loved to exaggerate, ever the performer. George was the quiet, brooding type, trying desperately to go unnoticed, which proved rather difficult. Although he was barely coming up on his 18th birthday, he had grown to a staggering 6 '4, with a voice at least 3 or so octaves deeper than Mattys. 

It had proven useful, you aways had someone to send into the smoke shop to buy fags or liquor, even if it always took a pep talk to even get him through the front door. George was convinced he didn't look older, even though he had never been carded. Ever. 

Usually it was Adam who bought it for you, even though both Matty and Ross were also already 18. Matty had already been banned from most liquor stores in the area, so he proved rather useless in situations needing a bit of booze. 

Mattys violent knocks against the flat door brought you back to reality

“C’MON OPEN UP ITS US,” his voice booms through the hallway. You can hear banging and shuffling coming from the other side of the door. It's so obviously Ross bumping into every available surface because he hadn't turned on the light yet. He was an avid day sleeper, mostly working night shifts. A particularly loud crash is followed by glass breaking. 

Matty taps his foot impatiently, waiting for the door to finally open. Ross emerges, looking disgruntled and tired of Mattys shit. 

“Mate, tell me, what possessed you to come knocking about at this hour, don't you have school-? I swear you're going to be the end of me one day” he rubs his eyes, getting the sleep out of them before moving out of the way to let the three of you in. 

“First of all, it's like 11am, so not exactly the ungodly hour you were describing,” Matty starts “Second of all, we’ve been kicked out of class, so where better to come than here?” 

The inside of the flat reeks of cigarettes and laundry detergent. Ross refuses to smoke on the terrace, deeming it too cold even in the middle of summer. Adam always smokes on the terrace, scared of staining the walls like in those addiction documentaries. A futile attempt, but at least he tries. Matty immediately lights a fag, sighing happily when the nicotine hit his system. School had always been an endurance test for him. Getting him to sit still for 2 hours without going for a cigarette proved nearly impossible. He was already itching by the 45 minute mark.

“What did you even do to get kicked out before 12?” He looks at George, who tells him exactly what happened with tears of laughter in his eyes. Matty rolls his before sitting down on the comforter located to the left of the TV, ashing into one of the various ashtrays situated around the house. George sits on the sofa next to Ross, and you make your way to your favorite spot, the table. Sitting cross legged on the table made you all face each other, which you quite liked. 

“Brew?” George asks, looking up from his Ipod. Everyone nods, and he gets up to put on the kettle. Idle conversation fills the air, and Matty starts chatting about the new “groundbreaking” Metallica album. Matty was, if anything, a music snob. No one could stop him raving on about albums or artists, whether he was praising or criticizing them. Once he started, you couldn't stop him to save your life.

Minutes tick past when George brings back mugs of tea. Mattys mug has got the words “I ❤️ cum” on it. Ross has his usual Macclesfield Town mug, and you and George have the plain green ones Adam bought in an attempt to make the flat seem somewhat civilized. 

Hours pass and Matty finally shuts up. You end up on top of him, sitting on the arms of the comforter. You're all watching Skins on the telly, and Mattys hand makes its way to your back, keeping you steady. He’d always been touchy like that, so it didn't bother you. You look at the sofa and see Ross passed out, drooling onto George's jumper. George, polite as ever, lets him sleep. It was a miracle Ross hadn't started snoring already. 

You suggest to Matty that maybe it was time to get going, seeing as you lived on the other side of the city. George's place was right around the corner, so he decided to stay and look after Ross a bit before Adam got home from his shift. Britain's sweetheart. 

Getting up as quietly as possible, making your way towards the door. Ross stirs as Matty almost knocks over his mug. The two of you make eye contact, silently laughing at Ross’ position, basically on top of George. He flipped you off, rolling his eyes and reaching for the remote, turning down the telly.

It was still fairly dark inside, so gathering everything proved a bit of a challenge. The curtains were drawn shut, the yellow material of them painting the house in a warm yellow hue. 

You had spotted Mattys flowery bag in the corner next to the stove, and grabbed it along with a bottle of cola that was set on top of the kitchen counter. Hydration was important, after all, even if you knew Adam would be livid that you were stealing his shit again. What are mates for?    

Matty grabbed both of your coats, mouthing “lets go,” before making his way towards the front door. 

The bright light of the hallway burns your eyes. How do they survive coming out here when that fucking flat is always so dark? You think to yourself. You wonder if Ross has a vitamin D deficiency from the inherent lack of sunshine in his life, yourself excluded. 

The bus ride home is rowdier, filled with kids from surrounding schools. The both of you hid in a corner towards the front, away from the dickheads that usually sat in the back row. You were both too tired to deal with anyone but each other. 

He was right, everything did smell like jimmy choo now, and maybe you shouldn't have sprayed so much. 

His hand wanders to his eyes, rubbing a bit of the eyeshadow off.

“Does it still look alright?” he asks, looking up from your lap. It had smudged a bit, melted off after a full day of wear. It's not like you used your expensive waterproof stuff, after all.

“You look fine, pretty actually,” You give him a tired smile, stroking his hair absentmindedly 

“Can you even call a guy pretty? Isn't that, like, inherently degrading?” Matty mutters, a grin spreading onto his face. 

“It's only degrading if you let it be. You Matthew Healy, are pretty. Pretty like a girl” 

A laugh escapes you, imagining Matty as a woman. Knowing him, he’d be into it. 

“Does it bother you? Y’know, me being feminine and wearing makeup.” The question surprises you. It's a rare thing seeing Matty this vulnerable. He doesn't care what other people think, but he does care what you think. 

“You know I don't care, I actually prefer you this way.” you assure him.

“Though it's still my mission to convince you that the backpack is not the move you think it is.” 

That earns you a frown from Matty. “It is! I'll let you know the lady at the store told be it very in this time of year” its always funny watching him get defensive over his fashion choices, even if he knows he’s fucked up and its hideous. 

“Yeah maybe it's trendy... for 8 year old girls! But you do you mate, don't let me judge you,” that gets you an elbow to the gut. 

The walk home is one you always take together. Arms hooked into each other, walking, sharing headphones. It's your turn on the music, putting on ‘This Charming Man’ by the smiths. 

“You know, Morrissey sort of reminds me of you. You're really similar in your campness”  Matty choked on air, shooting you a faux offended look. 

“Did you seriously call Morrissey camp? He'd have your head for that.” 

“You're both attention slags, so there's at least one similarity.” Matty doesn't say anything, knowing your words do, in fact, ring true. Matty loves attention, and man, is good at getting it. 

He draws people to him like moths to a flame. Always the loudest, always the most interesting. 

That one saying; “You can't be the prettiest girl at the party, but you always be the drunkest” is a personification of Matty. He tips back wine glass after wine glass, not caring about the stains on his shirt or the red ring around his lips. He then makes it a poor Hanns job to make sure he doesnt get into a scrap with three much bigger guys (which actually did happen last summer outside of a pub in london. Matty got out scot free, while Adam nearly suffered a heart attack). 

You hug Matty goodbye, giving him a peck on the cheek. 

You always dreaded coming home. 

They say your biggest critic is your mind, but yours was your mother. You knew she had already gotten a call from the school saying you cut class. The moment you stepped into the living room, the yelling started. “How can you do this” and “What are you even doing with your life” turned into “Look at yourself, you look like a whore and you're going to school like that?” or “Were you out with that little gay boyfriend of yours again?”

You try to tune it out, not letting it get to you. She's been like that for as long as you can remember, never letting up for even just a second. You weren't the best kid, but she sure isn't helping you “get on the right track” as she liked to say.

Tears well up in your eyes when you finally shut your bedroom door. Your first instinct is to call Matty. He picks up after two rings, immediately hearing the quiver in your voice. 

He tells you he’ll be there as soon as he can. 

Minutes pass by slowly until you hear a familiar, although uncharacteristically soft, knock at your window. Matty.

Your puffy eyes meet his and he can tell you’d been crying. No words were exchanged as he took you into your arms, his hands soothingly stroking your hair as you let out muffled sobs into his chest. It broke his fucking heart to see you like this. You were extensions of each other, the others' pain was always your own.    

“It's all so shit. Why cant she just be normal one fucking time.” your voice audibly shakes, partially out of anger and partially out of exasperation. 

“I know i suck, I know I'm a bad daughter but-,” Matty cuts you off. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” His words only make you cry harder. 

He holds you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, the sound of his voice similar to the way he spoke to you that night. His hands feel cold against your skin, and you know he’d rushed to your house without grabbing his coat. You look up at him, seeing his hair was unruly, curls falling into his face. The blonde highlights littered his dark hair and he ran his hand through them, brushing them to the side to get a better look at you. 

“D’you want to sit down? We can listen to music. Whatever you want, and won't even comment on how shit it is, promise,” He knew you didn't want to talk about it then, you never did.  

You sit in silence, your face still in his chest, staining the light blue material of his shirt. You quietly apologize, knowing how much he loves that shirt. He tells you to shut up, and that it didn't matter. 

He had gotten it in Barcelona at some tourist shop for 50 quid. Insane price for a tshirt that just said “Barcelona” on it, but he held it dear to his heart. It reminded him of his childhood summers. 

“There's a bottle of um…,” you trail off, gesturing to the second drawer of your nightstand. Matty understands, and reaches over you to open it. The drawer is filled with half eaten granola bars, bracelets, jewelry, the odd vape for when it was too cold to go outside. Matty always took the piss out of you for having them, saying they were ‘so fucking girly it hurt’. After a second of rummaging, he took out a half drunk bottle of Bacardi. It always sat in your nightstand for when you needed it, and you definitely needed it now. 

“Only you'd have a giant bottle of rum in your nightstand,” Matty says softly, searching your expression. The corners of your mouth tug upwards at his words, and you crack a smile.   

He opens it for you, and grabs an abandoned cup from your desk. The cup he had gifted you on your 17th birthday. It was covered in flowers and stars, very Matty. Very you. Pouring a healthy amount into the glass, he hands it to you.  

“To shitty situations” He raises it, clinking it against your cup. He takes a swig straight from the bottle. You down the whole thing in one go, wincing as the alcohol burns down your throat. 

“You feel better?” he asks, pouring more into your cup. You nod, before taking another drink. “I just need to get drunk and forget,” you sigh. Matty starts to speak again.

“That's an unhealthy way to go about it. Soon enough I'll be picking you up from corners because you can't handle your liquor. It's a recipe for alcoholism, innit?” you cackle at his words prompting Matty to raise his eyebrows at you.  

“Oh come off it!,” How many times have you been so drunk you couldn't find your own dick if you tried. Sort yourself out before criticizing my drinking habits.” you scoff  

You decide ‘Wonderwall’ by Oasis is the right soundtrack for the night. You lay down next to Matty, your shoulders and thighs touching each other. You look up fondly at the dozens of yellow stars littering your ceiling. Reminiscent of your early childhood, you couldn't bear to take them down. You still felt like a child, your heart yearning for the same innocence you no longer possessed. A distinct naïveté you missed dearly. After your breakup with Phillip you'd realized that the world wasn't all it was cut out to be. People wanted, and they took. It didn't matter to them if they hurt others, because as long as they were satiated, nothing else mattered. 

You turn to your left, draping your arm over Mattys stomach. He let out a deep breath, raising his right arm to draw light circles onto your back. His nails had grown out longer than usual, but the sharpness of them was comforting through the thin material of your tank top. The edge of your small twin bed dug into your back. 

The two of you laid like that for hours before sleep took over your body. The stars on the ceiling blurred as your eyes started to shut. You let out a soft hum, settling into Matty even more, holding him close.

You don't know how long he stayed, but he was gone when you woke up. You feel a sticky note attached to your forehead, the glue rubbing off on your skin. You could barely read Mattys erratic handwriting. The note read: you fell asleep, hope your hangover isn't as bad as mine. left you some Advil on your dresser xx. 

Your hand reached next to you, feeling two tablets. You wash them down with water from the sink. Your cell phone lights up with a text from George 

“We’re meeting at Hanns flat, be there in 30,”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The windows were rolled up, trapping the smoke inside. Your eyes were glazed over, barely able to make out Ross’ face in front of you. Watching as Matty took another hit, you made a ‘give it here’ motion at the zoot, prompting him to hand it to you. Rhianna blared through the radio, a far cry from Adams usual taste in music, but no one seemed to care. Even Matty had managed to keep his mouth shut, instead moving his head in time with the music. 

Adam was sitting in the driver's seat, as always. He’d never let anyone else drive his girl, not even Ross. He was insanely protective over his car, even if it was an old piece of junk. 

George was in the passenger seat, holding a pink, polka dotted ashtray in his hand. The colorful ceramic proved quite the contrast against his dark clothes and messy blonde hair. It was a gift from his older sister, and the only ashtray he ever used. 

You were perched in the middle seat, your elbows on the console between Adam and George. Matty sat on your right, and Ross on your left.  

“No joke, I once had a bird offer to give me a footjob. Can you imagine that?” Adam spoke loudly, almost too loud. Ross let out a disgusting snort, the mental image of Adam getting a footjob making him properly lose it. You make a face. 

“That can't feel good at all, innit? Aren't the soles of feet rough?” you ponder. “Only if you have George's hobbit feet, that is,” Matty said, ducking to avoid yet another lighter being chucked at him. You were going to run out of lighters at this rate. 

“I'll show you hobbit feet you fucking cunt,” George retorted, sticking out his tongue like a child.

“I had a girl once who wanted me to properly bite down on her nipples, like hard. Can't imagine how much that would've hurt.” you share. She’d been quite the odd one up until she was in your bed, so you were already expecting some sort of weird kink. Nipple biting was definitely not on that list. Not that you were kink shaming.  

George spoke first: “What d’you mean girl? You're telling me you've been with girls?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Erm, yeah? Didn't I tell you-?” Everyone shook their heads except Matty. You had already told him this story months before, the both of you laughing at your misfortune. Smiling at the fond memory, you meet Ross’ eye. 

“We didn't know you were like, proper gay,” he says quietly, not wanting to sound abrasive. You suck in a deep breath before answering. “I'm not proper anything, and besides,” you point at Matty sitting next to you, “This one’s snogged loads of blokes.”  A collective “What???” fills the car, with everyone's eyes now on Matty. 

“What if I have? It's not my job to notify you of all my sexual endeavors, innit?” Matty looks slightly uncomfortable, giving you a look. You frown at him, and he shakes his head. Slight signs of a smile linger on his face. It's fine he mouths at you, resting his arm on your shoulder. 

The three of them talk loudly over each other, with Ross asking some very explicit questions on the mechanics of gay sex. 

“How do you even, like, properly shag? It's not like you have anything you can shove into the other girl,” Jesus christ. 

Matty taps Ross’ shoulder, bringing the attention to his hands. He brings them up to his mouth, sticking his tongue out between the V-shape his fingers had made. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, the whole demonstration makes Ross visibly cringe. 

The car suddenly starts. Adam makes the short drive to Carolines, stating that the hotbox was getting to be too much for him. George has a go at his age, calling him an old man. Hann was in fact, about 2 and a half years older than George, and a solid year older than the rest of you. Old man was right. 

You had rolled down the window on Mattys side, hoping some fresh air would help Adams driving skills. The erratic swerving had begun to make you sick. 

Finally trugding up the stairs to the terrace, Matty says something about it being too fucking cold. Ross says “That's the price of being built like a male Kate Moss,” and Matty nearly shoves him down the stairs. 

It is colder than usual, and you had opted for a dark gray zip up, the material hugging you tightly. You were pretty sure it was Mattys. A pair of green wash jeans hung low, revealing the lightning bolt tattoo on your right hip bone. It was a copy of Bowie's on the cover of ‘Aladdin Sane’. You had gotten it done by another one of your mates, Rome, who was an aspiring tattoo artist. It looked a bit shit, the lines slightly crooked, but it was yours. 

You had convinced George and Ross to carry the sofa from the office onto the terrace. They were the tallest and strongest, and Mattys arms would have snapped like twigs if he tried to carry anything, you said to them. George laughed his octave defying laugh, while Ross let out an annoyed grunt, shoving past you. 

Adam was right behind them, carrying a small wooden coffee table. “For you- I know how much you hate sofas,” he says quietly. You called him a softy, but inevitably thanked him for bringing it out. He had his rare sweet moments, and you appreciate them 

Once you had all settled, you took out your tobacco and papes, starting to roll your first cigarette of the night. You honestly needed a break from all the weed, because jesus. 

Matty let out a groan, taking the piss out of you for bringing all that instead of just buying industrials. 

“I know you think you're better than us for rolling, it's quite pretentious.” he sucks in a breath before talking, moving his hands erratically “Don't tell me it ‘tastes better’ because that's simply bollocks, it all tastes the same!” 

“Pretentious? Her? That's rich coming from someone who raves on about William Burroughs like anyone knows who is!” Matty looks hurt, and you give Ross a look that says you really don't know who William Burroughs is?

The conversation continued without you, too preoccupied with rolling to add anything. All was well until George decided to open his giant mouth again. 

“If you're not fully gay,” he started, “how do we know you're not secretly crushing on any of us?” he raised his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.

You let out a snort, it slowly morphing into laughter until you look at him, his expression deadly serious. 

“You can’t actually mean that?” your voice is slightly hoarse. “For all we know, you could be harboring secret affection for Matty with the amount of times you’ve slept in the same bed.” 

Mattys perks up at this, shooting George a glare that could kill a man. He told him??? 

You don't know what came over you. Maybe it was the weed, maybe you were just groggy from the lingering hangover. You lick the cig closed, setting down next to the others. Uncrossing your legs, you get up and walk towards Matty. You can see the grin plastered onto his face, and he is definitely not sober.

You stumbled over Adam's foot, kicking it out of the way. Ross moved away from Matty, giving you some space. 

The terrace was dark, but the moonlight illuminated some of Mattys features. Specifically, his eyes. They seemed to glow, following your every step toward him. I'll show you secret affection you thought to yourself when your hand made contact with Mattys face. The stubble on his chin scratched your fingers. He never could grow a beard, and the faint shadow was as long as it would get. 

He sat with his legs spread, skin peaking out through the single rip in his jeans. His arms rested on the sofas back, splaying out to the side. He wore a black v-line jumper, the knit of it almost see-through.  

The makeup from the previous day was still smudged on his face, giving him a rockstar-esque look. The eyeshadow framed his eyes, glittering in the faint light. Your hands cupped his face, lightly stroking his jaw. The grin had been wiped off his face the moment you had settled between his legs, kneeling on the edge of the sofa. 

You didn't think, just moved, your lips smashing against each other. It seemed to take Matty by surprise, and it even took him a second before he kissed you back. One thing nagged at you. Why did you like it?

There was no time to think when you heard George wolf whistle at the both of you. 

You want a show, I'll give you a show you thought, slipping in your tongue and taking over the kiss. He seemed into it, but then again, Matty would fuck anything with a pulse. You smile against his mouth at the thought. It suddenly felt hot, even though you were outside. His hand snaked its way into your hair, tugging slightly. This didn't feel platonic. Was it?

“Alright, alright, we didn't sign up for a porno,” Ross says, his hand covering his mouth. You were the one who broke the kiss. Matty let out a soft groan when you parted, loud enough for only you to hear. His eyes pierced yours, and you moved to get off of him. 

Your heart thrummed against your ribcage, and you felt dizzy. What the fuck?

You wiped your mouth, your lipgloss having smeared all over your face. Wiping the back of your sticky hand against the sofa, you turned and walked back to your spot on the table. 

“See! Absolutely no ‘secret affection’ as George so kindly put it.” you say to the group, going back to your pile of fags, taking one and lighting it. If you had looked at Matty instead of being preoccupied with Hanns bickering about the prissy new manager, you would have noticed a faint shade of red caressing his cheeks. He felt around for his own cigarettes, and took out a pack of parliaments. Spotting the lighter next to you, he reached for it, lighting the cig as he inhaled the smoke eagerly.

It was already half two when the five of you finally piled back into Hanns car. The prominent stench of weed made you scrunch up your nose. You decide to light a cigarette in the car despite various protests and threats to your life if you even dared to ash onto the leather seats. Switching seats with Matty, you ash out the window instead, resting your head against the rim of the car. 

Ross and George were having yet another meaningless debate on whether mixing ketchup and mayo was a cardinal sin or totally acceptable. Every other word was an insult, and you knew they would never come to an agreement, ever.

You had already established that you’d be sleeping over at Mattys, saving Adam time and petrol not having to drive both of you home separately. Denise and Tim were out on a press tour, so he had the house to himself. 

His room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. If you knew Matty, you knew he hated the big light with a burning passion. Instead, a small lamp was turned on in the corner, illuminating the various posters that littered his wall. Band posters, prints, tapestries, the occasional quote. Everything screamed Matty

His room was filled with so much music. CD’s, vinyls, even the odd cassette tape. His purple record player sat on top of a dresser next to his desk, surrounded by various small trinkets of his. It was his prized possession, a gift from his mother for his 14th birthday.  

You had already helped yourself to a cola from his fridge downstair. His house was huge, way bigger than your own. Your parents weren't actors, after all. The walls of his room were stained towards the corners, just another side effect of Mattys near constant chain smoking. His bed was big, and you both fit comfortably on it. The wardrobe next to it had a pile of your own clothes in it, but none to sleep in. Your eyes dart around the room looking for one of his to wear, landing on his bright pink durex t-shirt. He had worn it once to school, promptly getting kicked out of literature class by a very conservative Mrs. Sexton.

Soft music was playing in the background as you unloaded your bag onto Matty’s insanely cluttered desk. Out came multiple pens, makeup, not one, not two, but three lighters, and finally, makeup wipes.    

You sat on the ground in front of his full length mirror, wiping at your eyes and face. Matty was making the bed, giving the both of you each your own duvet, a must after too many fights over the blanket. You weren't a peaceful sleeper, constantly tossing and turning, occasionally even kicking Matty in the back. 

Washing your face, you hear the bathroom door click open. Matty went and sat on the closed toilet lid next to you.

“Hand me my toothbrush, will you? And some toothpaste.” he asked, stretching his hand out. You do, even wetting the toothbrush for him. 

He sat there, brushing his teeth and flipping through a recent issue of playboy while you put moisturizer on, and then a serum. 

“I dont get how you can be arsed to put all that shit on your face, it takes way too long,” his comment makes you roll your eyes at him in the reflection. 

“Not everyone is naturally blessed with clear skin like you, people like me have to put effort into their appearance, knobhead.” A wave of insecurity hits you as you inspect the acne on your face. 

You had been a chronic face picker in your early teenage years, and the consequences of that were gnarly acne scars covering most of your face. They were not prominent, but they were there. 

Matty was fortunate enough to have had maybe three zits ever, his clear skin the stuff of dreams. 

Matty watches you pick yourself apart in the mirror. He hated when you did that. It made his heart ache in his chest. He wished you could see what he saw. What did he see?

“You’re quite beautiful, really,” he says, making eye contact with you through the mirror. You’re taken aback, not quite sure how to respond. You open your mouth to speak. 

“Oh bugger off,” you say, your voice breathy and annoyed. You didn't want to sound annoyed, it just came out that way. 

Matty raises both his hands in defeat, and spits the toothpaste into the toilet bowl, flushing. The hairbands sitting on the bathroom counter eventually end up in your hair, holding together two braids on either side of your face. You stare at the mirror one more time, examining yourself. The pink fabric of your (well, Mattys) shirt clung to you like it did Matty. Taking off your bra, you go back into his room. He had changed into a loose Kiss t-shirt and black boxers. The light of the corner lamp helped you find your phone, sitting on the nightstand next to you. 

The atmosphere was calm, calm enough that you’d almost forgotten about the kiss. Almost. 

Matty reached over to turn the lamp off, lighting a candle for light. Cinnamon. 

“You know it's dangerous to sleep with candles lit? We could catch on fire and die,” Matty had rolled over on his side, now facing you. A grin spread onto his face. 

“If it kept me from ever seeing Hanns ugly mug ever again, i’d gladly let cinnamon spice scented flames burn me to death,” 

You giggle at his words. Poor Adam, always taking the worst of Mattys jokes, if you could even call them that. Accepting his decision to keep the candle lit, you pull the blanket over your shoulders. Your eyes shut and you can feel butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies, really? Jesus fucking christ. 

You're scared to open your eyes, scared to even look at Matty. Maybe it was a mistake. He's your best mate. That kiss didn't mean anything, especially not to him.

A million thoughts race through your head, and you shove them into a small corner of your mind. Ignore ignore ignore, it didn't mean anything. He's just some wanker who picked you up at a bus stop three years ago and somehow became your best mate. He's just some guy you share a bed with sometimes. He's just some guy who lights your spliffs for you. He's just some guy who you kissed on a terrace overlooking the city. 

Fuck.