#and that marks the last one of these posts I have ready

[alovesreading]

Chicken Shop Date | Part 10

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

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

Word Count: 43.3k

A/N: Well hello everyone! We are back... kind of. It's been over a year (a year and eight days to be exact) since the last chapter we posted of this story, but most importantly, today marks exactly two years since we first posted this fic and we wanted to celebrate by posting the very last chapter. This is a bittersweet moment because we did start this one thinking it would be two parts long, at most, yet here we are. We are so baffled by how big this story became, but so incredibly grateful for your support, love, and your endless patience with us. N and I are sending yous all the love. We're gonna let you enjoy every bit of this chapter, and well, I guess we'll see you on the epilogue!

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |

| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |

~*~*~*~ 25th February 2023 ~*~*~*~

"So sorry we're late. We're finally here." You unlock the door to your Mum and Dad's house with Matty in tow.

The only thing that's gone right on your trip here is that you both made it into the car and you both had the bright idea of getting ready for your family party before you set off. Other than that, it's been a bit of a mess.

First, after 5 minutes of driving away from Matty's house, you both forgot your bags which you packed for the next few days of your stay at your parents so you had to go back to grab them. Then you kept on getting every red light you came across, followed by a standstill on the motorway which was 45 minutes of you and Matty singing 2000s bangers interrupted by each of you occasionally complaining about how long you'd been waiting in traffic.

Needless to say, parking up at your parents house was just that bit of comfort you needed after a shit journey. Though by the slight bit of worry you can detect on Matty's face you feel that he may not be quite as comforted as this is the first time he's meeting your parents.

He's only briefly caught your Mum on FaceTime before now and it was just a quick conversation that you cut short because your Mum was about to embarrass you. But he's yet to meet your dad and you know he's nervous despite him having no reason to be.

"You're fine, it's better if we're fashionably late anyway. Come in, come in." You Mum shouts as she rushes to the door and practically all but shoves you out of the way after giving you possibly the quickest hug and peck to the cheek. Clearly, her eyes are set on a certain someone else. 

Your boyfriend manages to get his greeting in there first once you step to the side to watch the encounter. Matty smiles brightly, putting your bags down in the hall as he says, "Hey, so so nice to finally meet you."

"Matty," Your Mum's grin is huge as she welcomes him with open arms, "So lovely to meet you properly."

Being the teddy bear that he is, Matty isn't phased by the hug in the slightest and he happily returns it, giving your Mum a tight squeeze as if relishing in the hug of another mother figure. It seems your Mum's grin is infectious because Matty's is now just as big as he tells her, "So lovely to meet you in person. FaceTime isn't the same. You're even more gorgeous in real life."

Your Mum starts laughing as they release each other from the embrace. "Flattery gets you everywhere in this house, you're going to fit right in." She pulls your boyfriend inside, like he isn't being dragged when she says, "Please come in."

Matty smiles at you on his way in, clearly having calmed down a little after realising you weren't lying when you said that your Mum was lovely. You adore him for being nervous though, God knows if you weren't badly jet lagged and emotional the day you met Denise, you would have been just as, if not more worried than when you met Tim.

Your Mum leads Matty straight into the kitchen leaving you to put both your bags at the bottom of the stairs out of the way, and you head to your lounge to see your Dad with a beer already in hand and he's on his feet offering you a hug immediately. There's a gin on the side so it's great to see that they have had pre-drinks while they've been waiting for you to arrive and not sat hating you for being late.

After pleasantries are exchanged and you've given him a hug, he asks you. "Was the trip over okay?"

"Yeah it was good despite the traffic, thank you Dad." You smile, picking up your Mum's gin and smelling it quickly before you have a sip.

Ooooo Parmaviolet gin. Stunning! Putting the glass back down quickly, you nod towards the door and ask your father, "Come meet Matty?"

Your Dad looks entirely too smug as he asks, "Do I pretend like I haven't seen his face on your bedroom wall since you were a teenager?" 

God that's a whole different can of worms you'll have to sort out when you get home later. Take the posters down, number 1 on the priority list.��"No, he knows I was a fan. But please don't embarrass me." You all but beg, even showing him some puppy dog eyes as you reiterate, "Please."

"I make no promises." Your Dad smiles teasingly and slight dread seeps into your system.

Even though you're slightly more than half certain he's just trying to wind you up, you say, "Dad." sternly.

Instead of easing your worries, your father just pulls you into another hug, and he kisses the top of your head before saying softly, "Good to have you home."

You're about to tell him you're happy to be back, but before you can your Mum comes into the lounge with your boyfriend in tow. Immediately a smile finds its way to your lips, just because you can see his gorgeous face again but also because he's clearly made friends with your Mum already as he's got one of her precious gin glasses in hand which means he's already won her over. You're lucky if you even get one of those crystal gin glasses.

Your boyfriend's grin only gets bigger when he properly greets your Dad, offering him a handshake. As your father takes his hand, he asks knowingly, "Did she make you drive Matty?"

"No, I offered," Matty chuckles a little before he explains, "And I've not insured her on my car yet... But when I do that, I'll make sure she drives next time."

Matty glances at you all amused because you've told him in the past how you're not too confident about driving around central London which is why you don't have a car at your flat. The little bitch just likes teasing you about it, and from this alone you know him and your Dad will get on just fine because your Dad's made the same joke in the past.

"Good man." Your father chuckles, "Nice to meet you."

After introductions are out of the way and you're all settled with drinks in hand, Matty seems to relax right in and you're really pleased because you knew he was nervous to meet your parents even though you told him there was no need to be. Regardless, you're so happy he fits in seamlessly, and is doing God's work by entertaining all of your Mum's silly questions.

But it's when there's a slight lull in conversation that your father takes the opportunity to ask a question you wish never left his lips. Your Dad looks all proud of himself after he takes a sip of beer and asks, "Has my daughter ever told you about the time that she screamed and started crying when you announced you were releasing your second album?"

"Oh my god, STOP!" You yell before hiding yourself in your hands all the while Matty's giggle fills the room.

"Ha, no she hasn't but I'd love to hear all stories like that." You hear your boyfriend say and you're already shaking your head.

"No, you don't." You say sternly, still hiding your now burning face. Your Dad just laughs and ignores you as he tells Matty, "Oh there's hundreds, I'll tell you when she's not here to tell me off."

The whine of pain that leaves your lips has the room laughing, and Matty rubs your back for a second to silently tell you not to be embarrassed. If anything he's grateful for your obsession with his music because it led to him being here with you right now and he wouldn't change that for the world. No matter how obsessed you may be.

You take a second to compose yourself before you uncover your hot face and look directly at the culprit. "Dad," You shoot him a pointed look that both him and your Mum start chuckling at, "Thought I just said don't embarrass me."

"Sorry sweetheart, but I can't promise anything when you bring the man home who we've been shown pictures of since you were a teenager." Your Dad drops you in it again and all you can do is look to the ground and sigh.

"It's going to be a very long night." You mumble before you take a long sip of your gin. And something tells you that you're not going to be wrong.

~*~*~*~

Matty is stiff in his seat next to you in the taxi as you make your way to the venue where your family gathering is. As nerve wracking as it was to meet your parents, he recognises that it's gone well, but the prospect of now going to a place where he's not only going to meet but interact with your entire family for hours, has him shitting bricks.

His breathing becomes shallow as he bounces his knee and fiddles with his fingers, and he doesn't even notice he's doing all that since he's lost staring space. His thoughts are as all over the place as his fidgeting, trying to remember names you've thrown around or little details about your aunties and uncles that he could use to make a good impression.

You're thankful you don't fail to notice his clear signs of restlessness showing through. You almost coo aloud because you find it so adorable that he's this nervous about meeting your family. Maybe you should mention they already adore him because you have never kept your love for the band from them, so basically everyone already knows who he is.

If anyone should be scared of things potentially going against them, it's you who should be worried. God knows all the shit your family could say to him to embarrass you. Your parents have already tried their hand, but you know there's so much more that everyone else could say.

Before you can even begin to make a list of all the possibilities, your hand rests over his restlessly bouncing knee. You gently rub his thigh as you send a smile his way, quietly telling him, "You're going to be fine."

His leg stops moving and though his hands freeze over his lap, his gaze falls on you and you can just read the worry on his face. Bringing a hand up to cup his face, you rub his cheek softly and assure him, "They'll love you."

Just as much as I do, you want to add but you don't think it's the best time to say it. You just hope he can read it in your eyes, because your chest hurts with the amount of love you have for him and it shines on your face when you look at him.

He nods faintly and leans in to steal a quick kiss. "I trust you," he mumbles against your lips before pressing a kiss to your cheek and finally settling in his seat. His fingers intertwined with yours and he squeezes your hand before resting it over his thigh. Looking down at your joined hands makes you sigh in content, and you end up resting your head on his shoulder with the stupidest smile on his face.

Matty lets your warmth calm him down and soon he forgets where you're going for all he can think of is how nice you smell and how soft your skin feels under his calloused fingers, how cute you look in this dress and how he could go an eternity with you pressed against his side like this.

When the car stops, you pick your head up and, just like your parents, thank the driver before exiting the taxi. You turn to look at Matty and see his nerves washing over him again, but you walk up to him and brush his curls back before kissing him softly and quickly in reassurance.

Though it really doesn't help when your dad says, "Come on, let's throw you into the belly of the beast Matty."

Matty chuckles quietly, and though he puts on a cool, unbothered expression, the way he squeezes your hand gives him away. He clears his throat before saying, "You surely can't be all that bad."

Your dad snorts menacingly, knowing exactly what's to be expected on the other side of the door, "You'll be eating your words soon."

If you were close enough to slap your Dad's arm, you would have done but he's already linked your Mum's arm and heads inside. The venue isn't the biggest, but it's on the nice side of town and it's by no means a shithole, so it's perfect for your Auntie's birthday bash.

It's by pure luck that the second you go inside, the first to greet you and your family is your Uncle Darren. He smiles brightly at you when he sees you and Matty holding hands and waiting for him to finish hugging your mum and dad.

He makes a show of letting his gaze fall to your joint hands and then back up to your face so he can give you a wink. You can feel your cheeks heating up at the lack of subtlety from your uncle, and his smirk is huge when he notices you getting flustered at his silent taunting.

His gaze moves to your boyfriend then. Extending his hand out towards Matty, your uncle introduces himself, "You must be Matty. I'm Darren, nice to meet you."

Matty hears you snort beside him but doesn't question it for he shakes your uncle's hand and offers him a sweet smile, "Lovely to meet you. You're Y/N's uncle right?"

"Yes, I'm her favourite," your uncle replies smugly. He looks at you and sees the way you roll your eyes, it has him snorting out a laugh before asking you this time, "How was the drive?"

You give your uncle a little smile seeing the actual care laced around his words, "Yeah it was good, thank you. After the traffic it was good to see home again."

"Ah yes, you went home first..." your uncle says and lets his words drift away into the air, and you can almost see how a lightbulb goes off in his head when he smirks again and looks at Matty to point out, "You got the meeting the parents out of the way first. Good idea. But it's me you have to impress."

You almost laugh when you think you see Matty visibly gulp. But you take pity on him, like he's done with you when meeting his family. Plus, you know your uncle is playing with him. He has known who Matty is for far too long thanks to you being an avid fan of the band, and he's actually hiding how much he enjoys their tunes.

"He's already impressed you with his music, don't act all tough now." You turn to a still nervous Matty and try to ease his worries by saying, "He's a big fan."

That's when it clicks for Matty and he turns back to look at your uncle with a knowing smile growing on his face, "Aren't you uncle Dazza?"

Your uncle gives up his attempts to tease you any further and to act too cool then, he just nods and says, "I quite like Tonight I Wish I Was Your Boy. I love the sample from The Temptations."

You swear you can feel the way Matty relaxes when sensing a bit of familiarity now, and you smile so big when he says, "Thank you. They were twats about that one though. They wanted like ninety seven percent from us to use that."

Your uncle Dazza's eyes widen at the quick fact and you almost laugh at the same time as he says, "Really?"

Matty nods and sighs as if the memory alone gets him annoyed, but then shrugs as he tells, "Yeah we just said fuck it though because it was too good to not to make."

"Well I'm glad you did. Great song," your uncle concludes and it's your loud cackle that makes a bright smile break on his face before he shoves you slightly and tells you to, "Shush." Before you can even start gloating about how you've managed to turn everyone into at least a casual fan of the band, your uncle Dazza sends you over to where your auntie is. 

Your mum and dad have gone ahead and are already talking to her when you get pushed away by your uncle, so you sneak behind her taking Matty right with you and yell, "Happy birthday!" over her shoulder. She lets out a loud gasp when hearing your voice, but a little squeak follows when she sees who's right beside you and holding your hand.

"Oh my god! Is he here to serenade me?" Your Auntie says with so much excitement you think your heart might explode. Matty blushes next to you when you chuckle lightly and your Auntie fans herself as she makes a show of her assumption. "On my birthday, Y/N you shouldn't have."

What you don't expect her to do though, is turn to Matty and rest her hand on his forearm as she says, "My favourite is Antichrist, just so you know." 

You have to swallow the urge to cackle when Matty just frowns deeply at the suggestion. But your auntie still winks at you, knowingly. You can only smile at her, so damn proud that she's done this the second she's met your boyfriend. You have certainly taught her well.

"How'd you..." Matty looks confused for a second before he shakes his head slightly, a smile slowly forming on his lips before he asks, "Surely that's a bit too depressing for a big day like today?"

The silence that follows is loud for a second or two, until your Auntie pouts and looks at you to say, "I tried for you babe."

You halfheartedly sigh in response, "Thanks for trying Auntie Shazza. Stubborn man he is."

Matty can't fight the smile that spreads on his face, and he asks your Auntie in disbelief, "Did she tell you to ask for that?"

Bless your Auntie though, she shrugs and puts on a proud face as she says, "No, I just know things."

Before Matty can say anything else, someone calls out for her and she excuses herself. She gives your boyfriend a smile and you a wink before leaving. You just know that he's about to say something by the way he smirks at you, with that glint in his eye that makes your head run wild but before he can open his mouth, someone interrupts.

"Y/N!" You hear being shouted from across the room and when both you and Matty turn to follow the voice, you all but run at your favourite cousin.

Matty can't help but like your cousin already, just from the smile he simply brought to your face. Matty knows by your reaction alone that it must be Olly, your 'absolute legend of a cousin'. You've been telling Matty about him since you asked if he was free to join you at this party and your boyfriend has been keen to meet him.

"Thank fuck you're finally here." Olly says as he gives you a tight hug which you return. But when he releases you, he pulls back and looks at you accusingly, "You've left me for over an hour being exposed to Satan incarnate."

Matty's confused by this as he watches on expectantly, but by the way the joy of seeing your favourite cousin falls from your face, he knows that whoever you're talking about is not someone you're a fan of. And that's made extremely clear with your reaction that has Matty holding in a laugh.

"She's here?" Your scoff, and when Olly nods entirely unimpressed by the truth, you say with complete conviction, "Great... Was hoping she'd have rode off on her broomstick by now."

Matty thought that his eyes couldn't get any wider hearing that, but then he's sure his eyes budge from his head when Olly tilts his head to the side and so casually says, "Hit by a bus would be better." You snort in laughter at that, and when you turn to Matty so you can introduce him to your favourite cousin you notice just how confused he is. But before you can begin to explain, your boyfriend gets there first.

"Is she Regina George or something?" Matty questions as he looks between the two of you, he has to know, "Why do yous hate her?"

"Oh, you'll find out." You cousin half laughs before stepping towards your boyfriend and introducing himself, "'M Olly, it's nice to meet you mate."

"Matty, nice to meet you," He smiles and shakes your cousin's outstretched hand, "I've heard lots about you."

"Ditto," Olly smirks, "Although, it's usually more about your music than yourself."

The look of utter betrayal on your face is priceless and Matty can't help but laugh. He gives you an amused look but asks with raised eyebrows, "Do you ever stop talking about me?"

You do well holding in your scoff, but it's so worth it when you twist your cousin's words to tease your boyfriend. You give him a knowing look when you say, "Usually to talk about more important matters like Ross or George."

"Nice to know Hann didn't make the cut." Your boyfriend folds his arms almost proudly, taking the small victory where he can. But of course, you're there to shoot him down again.

You narrow your eyes as you backchat, "Only because he's married with a child." Matty gives you a look then that screams carry on and you'll regret it and because you know his punishments will be oh so sweet, all you can do is give him bring it on eyes.

"Careful," Olly brings the both of you out of your little staring match, reminding you of all the other eyes that could be on you, "Lovers quarrel at a family party and you will be the talk of the town for very different reasons than you already are in the family WhatsApp."

You hum, "There's a reason I don't check that chat."

"Well, you'd be pleased to know that Mother Gothel isn't here," Your cousin smiles, but the character name has Matty feeling thankful for whoever hasn't shown up. However, Olly goes on to say, "But Paige only decided to come once she heard that you were coming and bringing Matty."

"Of course." You let out a berated sigh, and Matty finally gets the picture when you say, "But at least her Mum's not here."

Whilst your boyfriend's keen to get the gossip, he can't help but tease you a little, "Wow, I never knew you could be so nasty." The look that you send him is entirely one of amusement but clearly you and your cousin feel very passionately about these two people, because your cousin backs you up completely.

"Believe me, she deserves it." Olly begins to explain everything to your boyfriend. "She thinks she's the big 'I am' because she went to fashion school, but since Chicken Shop Date blew up for Y/N, Paige has been bitter about her getting to go on red carpets and meeting celebs and stuff."

Matty's eyes go wide and when he looks at you for confirmation, you nod a little and then tell him most of the details. You explain how Paige is your Mum's eldest sister's daughter, and Olly is your Mum's little sister's son, and the three of you cousins were all born one year after the other (Paige being the oldest and you the youngest) and how at family get togethers it was always the three of you forced to interact as you grew up.

For as long as you can remember Paige has always been a cow and a snake, and she always picked on you as a kid just because she could and she got away with it most of the time because she was older. Her Mum is just a pretentious cow who in her eyes can see Paige do no wrong and thankfully your awful auntie's sisters dislike her, not just you and Olly. You'll forever be grateful that your Mum and Auntie Sharon had a massive row with their sister one year which meant you saw less and less of that small evil side of your family. But that didn't stop their poisonous comments from getting to you over the last few years.

As you're about to explain all the shit she initially said about Chicken Shop Date and the things you've heard her say about you and Amelia, it seems the bitch has a second sense for her name being uttered. Because speak of the devil and he shall appear, this time in a mini skirt and stilettos.

"Y/N." Paige makes her debut, stalking over to the three of you in her heels which still leaves her shorter than you in your combat boots. "You finally made the effort to show up, how gracious of you."

Taking a second not to immediately bite back at her attempts to rile you, your reply is short and sweet, "Fashionably late, what can we say?"

Olly holds in the chuckle he wants to let out hearing that, and at the way the three of you clock Paige's eyes looking you up and down as if to check for herself. And you can't hold your smirk seeing the light die in her eyes as she realises you're dressed in a Miu Miu forest green knitted dress. And it costs a fuck ton of money, which she's well aware of and can't say shit about.

When her eyes meet yours again, just to subtly fuck with her that bit more, you correct yourself, "You could also call it saving the best till last."

Olly snorts seeing your smirk and immediately throws his hand up to cover his mouth. It takes Matty a lot to not just laugh straight away, but he can't help the smile that's on his face. But seeing Matty's amusement immediately attracts your devil cousin's attention, and she grins then looking directly at your boyfriend. As she does, she also answers your statement nodding to herself, "Oh yes, you really have."

And of course she doesn't mean you. Not with the way she's looking like she wants to eat your boyfriend alive. Looking at Matty up and down in a more suggestive way than you've ever even seen fans do at his gigs, your bitch of a cousin hums to herself, but purposefully loud enough for you to hear over the venue's music, "Oooo, even better in real life."

It takes everything in you not to react. Instead you just smile like you agree, and you take every pleasure in seeing that she's annoyed by not upsetting you. Truly, it baffles you how she's 30 years old and still acts like she's a teenager with a petty feud.

She stretches out her hand as if she wants him to kiss the back of it, "Hi, I'm Paige"

Matty, entirely unimpressed with her behaviour, puts on a smile just to be polite. But he's also mighty confused why she's offered her hand like that but shakes her hand instead, "Hey, y'alright?" And he's never let go of someone's hand faster.

Paige keeps eye fucking your boyfriend and smirks as she glances at you, "I remember what you used to say about him..." immediately Matty turns to look at you with a smirk already lighting up his face, and he thinks she's about to spill some gossip on you, but she just attempts to flirt again, "I can say I agree now, especially about these curls."

Your boyfriend frowns a little at that but he doesn't take his eyes from you, meaning he sees the way your jaw falls slightly at the mere audacity of your family member. He catches the way your jaw clenches ever so slightly before you casually bite back, "Well I don't have to say them anymore, I can just do them."

Paige just chuckles in response and Matty can feel her gaze linger on him as she says, "Good for you." and only because he thinks she's about to catch onto the fact she's not wanted in this conversation anymore, he looks back at her for a second.

But that leads Satan incarnate to tell Matty, "You know it's lucky she got 'famous' too because I fear you would still be her entire personality still now if not."

"Then it's lucky she's entirely my personality now so we balance each other out, don't we baby?" Matty smirks at you, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist and pulling you into him. His eyes barely even leave yours, as if he's totally besotted with you and there's not a party going on around you. And god, you feel the exact same. You could get lost just looking at him again right now, counting all of his cute little freckles, picking out which of his curls is your favourite one today, loving how it's falling.

There's endless things that have you never wanting your eyes to stray from the man you love, but seeing how he's looking at you and feeling how he's holding you like he never wants to take moments together for granted and holding you tightly is something you'll forever cherish. You're itching to tell him you love him, and seeing just how big your smile is, the words almost fall from Mattys lips.

But your cousin ruins the moment. "Oh, you two are already vile." Olly fakes a gag before he moves behind the both of you and forces you apart by hanging an arm over each of your shoulders and pushes you both away from Paige. "Let's do some shots and start the night off with a bang."

"I like your thinking." Matty chuckles and happily lets him be led the way to the bar.

Thankfully Paige doesn't follow you and the three of you manage two shots of tequila each at the bar before you get your drinks. Unsurprisingly, Olly gets whisked away by your Auntie Sharon, wanting to show her son off to her friends and your other family members so you and Matty are left to your own devices for a few minutes.

Or that is until the both of you sit down at an empty table and settle with your drinks. You both let your surroundings sink in, although loud music and a lot of people in a room isn't anything new to either of you now.

Despite you thinking the DJ has opted to play Pitbull a bit earlier in the night than needed considering no one is up dancing yet, the party is in full swing. A lot of your family is here and people you recognise from your Uncle's family who you've met at these parties previously, and you're really happy for your Auntie Sharon's sake that she's had a good turn out and everyone looks like they're enjoying themselves.

A few of your Auntie's friends spot you and they come over for you to introduce them to Matty. You love them nearly but they are a rather nosy bunch - wanting every detail of how you two got together which you give them the PG version of events. Matty came on Chicken Shop Date, there was a spark there despite the filming so another date was arranged, and after your date on New Years you've been together ever since. Absolutely no need for them to know he stayed at your flat twice before your second date and he fucked you dumb after it.

Despite the amount of familiar faces coming up to you and asking about the new man in your life, you can't bring yourself to hate it even if some of them were a bit too invasive. And that's because you catch that glint lighting up Matty's eyes each and every time you call him your boyfriend. It has you wanting everyone to come over so you can show him off to everyone.

Not to mention the way seeing that look in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat. It's getting difficult to keep your mouth shut about how much he means to you now. But you're certainly not going to tell him you love him for the first time at your family party.

You're thinking about just how much you love the man beside you talking to your Aunt's friend when you hear a thunder of little feet coming your way and just as you're about to turn around in your seat, you hear a sweet little voice that you've been missing.

"Auntie Y/N!"

You all but jump from your seat when seeing your favourite little cousin running towards you, "Sammy!" Your arms extend to have him run into them, and when he crashes into you, you let out a groan as you try to pick him off the ground like you always have, "Oh I've missed you cutie!"

You rest the little one on your hip and notice just how much he's grown because you can place a dozen kisses on the 6 year olds head with complete ease now. And once you get your giggle after you pepper him with kisses, you give him a tight squeeze as you say, "But you've grown so much, I can barely pick you up now!"

"I've missed you too!" Little Sam says in your ear, and your heart melts because that's just what you wanted to hear. You give him another big squeeze that he pretends he can't breathe from which makes you laugh as you put him back on the ground.

There's a proud smile on Sam's face and puffs his chest out to say, "I'm quite big now, right?" Your grin gets impossibly big and you nod before accentuating, "Huge!"

It's Matty's little enamoured giggle behind you that catches little Sam's attention, and when he realises where he has seen that face before, the kid is pointing at your boyfriend and outing you in the worst possible way. 

Little Sam gasps, entirely jaw dropped, looking from you to Matty when he all but shouts, "You have pictures of him in your bedroom!" Your jaw falls automatically and Matty's cackle is loud in response. Your mouth moves as you try to say anything back to that but you can't gather any words in your mind in the time it takes Matty to get up and crouch in front of Sam and ask, "Oh does she?"

The little traitor nods enthusiastically, now grinning and continues to expose you, "Yeah and she also has a really big picture of y–" Quickly, you're behind your little cousin covering his mouth with your hand, you manage to interrupt his attempt at ruining your reputation. You crouch down a little to tell Sam, "You've said enough. Where's you Mum and Dad?"

"No, no," Matty now standing just in front of the both of you with a grin on his lips, "Let the kid speak."

You say, your cheeks feeling very hot, "Nope." and you quickly wrap your arms around little Sam and heave him into the air. Secured against you, you turn around and carry him back over to his Mum and Dad leaving Matty cackling behind you.

Unfortunately, the end of your embarrassment never comes because once you've made it back to Matty after handing Sam over to his parents who quickly distracted him, more of your cousins come over to see you. Only after you explain to Matty how the kids are your second cousins do the rest of the little monsters descend.

After exchanging pleasantries with their parents (your Mum and Aunt's' cousins), their little boy Zack - who Matty would guess is about 12 - is left with you for a few minutes, and after you introduce him to Matty, explaining how he's your new boyfriend, Zack looks at you quizzically. The little dirty blond asks you, as he stands between yours and Matty's chair, "Isn't he-" nodding at Matty, "The one in the videos you used to play when you would babysit me?"

You don't think you've ever disliked your cousins until these embarrassing moments. Being entirely stuck for words as Matty laughs at the information your cousin just divulged, it's your boyfriend who raises his eyebrows and says, "Wow, all these rumours are really not helping the cause of you not being obsessed with me."

Immediately you sink back into your seat and huff, "Don't flatter yourself."

"Oh," Matty giggles, "But it's the talk of the town, baby." You're about to lean across and punch his arm, but the child beside you pipes back up, confirming his own suspicions when he asks you, "Is it him?" But when you hesitate in answering, he just turns to your boyfriend, "You sing Chocolate, right?"

"That's me." Matty's grin has turned into a shit eating one, and he only glances at you before giving Zack all his attention and offers him a high five and a, "Nice to meet you, bud."

Immediately, like any child before their teens, he returns your boyfriends high five excitedly and it seems that he loves Matty from that gesture alone. Probably even more so after Zack outs you again. "By the way," Your little cousin continues telling Matty, "She told me she'd take me to one of your concerts when I'd be old enough and it still hasn't happened."

Noting Zack's dramatic emphasis on the word 'still', Matty is just as dramatic when he looks at you, shaking his head like he's wildly disappointed in you, "Now that's just rude, Y/N."

"Okay, listen," You hold your hand up and gesture to your little cousin, "You're barely even ten."

Zack looks hurt when he half shouts, "I'm eleven!" And your little bitch of a boyfriend nods at Zack saying, "That sounds old enough to me."

"See!" The little dirty blond smiles like your boyfriend just gave him a piece of cake, "I am old enough."

"Don't worry, you'll be going to the next one mate. I'll put you on the guestlist." Matty promises him, with the condition of, "Just don't start swearing when you hear me swear, okay? And then you can come to more than just one show, okay?" Zack says a big thank you and quickly hugs your boyfriend before sticking his tongue out at you playfully, making you laugh, and he runs back to his parents to tell them the good news.

You shake your head but can't take the smile off your face when you sigh, "You're just spoiling them now."

"It's only a concert." Matty shrugs like it's no big deal. "Can't believe you didn't treat them." You scoff, "Where you pretend to fucking toss yourself off, excuse me for not taking them to this tour when I knew what it'd be like."

"I'll change it up for them next time, for Still At Their Very Best." Matty promises with a smile, "I've got ideas already."

"God, I absolutely dread to think." You mumble, wondering what in the hell you're eventually going to have to subject your family too.

Matty smirks at your fake distaste, but he can't fight the need to kiss that pout off your face. He reaches down to the metal of your seat and pulls your chair right beside his, and as soon as you're close enough he cups your cheek and gives you a gentle kiss. You all but melt at his touch, and Matty is so in awe at the way you react to him, loving how it's like fate brought you together as you so seamlessly fit. But he can't help but tease his beautiful girlfriend, "You act like you won't come to every show with me."

You hum in amusement as he taps the tip of your nose, but you play right back. He needs a taste of his own medicine with how big his head is right now.  "Not if Arctic Monkeys are touring," You can't take the smile from your lips as you peck his pillowy lips once more, "I'm going round with Flo. We've already arranged it."

Matty sighs, closing his eyes for a second as he nods, "Of course you have."

You find yourself unable to stop yourself from giggling at his reaction because bringing the Monkeys up was always a fun way to step on his ego. Despite the bruise you've just left, your boyfriend starts chuckling too as the party sweeps you back up.

The DJ announces that the buffet is served and you patiently watch the hungry wolves descend before you get up yourselves. As you're both eyeing up what food you fancy, another of your little cousins come over. Matty notices straight away that the little girl, maybe about 9 years old, recognises him. The shock on the little blonde's face makes it evident, but more so that when she stands right beside the both of you, she's jaw dropped as she looks at him and says, "Oh my god! You're the guy who says 'One, Two, fucking jump'!"

The gasp that leaves your lips is instant and loud, and Matty has to hold in his laugh as you lean down and tell her, "I've told you that you're not allowed to say that unless the song is on."

Immediately the little girl, who Matty thinks from the resemblance alone must be Zack's little sister, runs off giggling and you stand back up properly taking a deep breath. It takes everything in your boyfriend not to laugh at you again being outed by your family, but he doesn't let you get away with it. When you look back at him, he asks curiously, "Why have you been teaching kids that?"

"I was babysitting and they were asking what concerts I'd been to so we put on live at the O2 and of course they picked up on that bit." You sigh, shaking your head, but then you poke your boyfriend in the chest a few times as you say, "So if we think about it, it's your fault really."

It was Matty's turn to gasp and shake his head then, and after debating it for a few minutes the both of you ended up agreeing to disagree. The food was glorious and Olly came over to eat with you both taking a respite from being his Mums show pony for a bit, and being unable to hold back all of you went back up to get second helpings of the buffet because it was too good to go to waste.

Just after Olly left you, again being dragged away into a conversation with his Mum and another of her friends, you saw your little cousin Sam heading towards you again. This time a plate full of crisps and brownies in his hands and after plopping them on the table, the little 7 year old comes around so he can sit with you.

As you lift him up and place him on your knee so he's facing Matty, you kiss the top of his head and smile as you ask, with a hint of warning, "You gonna try again?"

"Erm, yeah." The little man giggles a little shyly before he looks at your boyfriend and smiles, "Hi, I'm Sam."

"Hiya Sam," Matty grins, and offers him a high five, "Nice to meet you. I'm Matty."

"Yeah, I know." Sam nods and proudly tells your boyfriend with a big smile, "Auntie Y/N taught me."

"Oh yeah? I bet she has." Matty grins, his eyes flicking from Sam to you and you glare back at him. Even more so when he asks him, "What did she teach you?"

"Your names, your bands name," Your little cousin starts holding up his fingers as he counts, "And the lyrics to your songs."

"Really?" Matty raises his eyebrows entirely amused and not at all surprised anymore. Your boyfriend pries further, "Does Auntie Y/N/N go on about me all the time?"

"No." Leaves your lips immediately but simultaneously little Sam nods, "Yes she does."

And Matty snorts, inclined to believe your cousin over you after all he's heard tonight so he grins at the little boy and half whispers, "I knew it."

Sam starts laughing at that, noting your distaste when you whisper, "You traitor." In his ear which makes him laugh even louder. You can't even pretend you're upset with him because he's just too god damn cute.

But he becomes even cuter when he leans closer to Matty and asks, "Is George actually your best friend?"

Your boyfriend's face lights up at the mention of his friend, and Matty nods in confirmation, "Yeah he is."

"He's so tall!" Sam yells as he raises his arms above his head as high as they will go to try and emphasise just how tall George is, and you think that he would be just as enamoured meeting George as he is with Matty.

Matty chuckles, "I know." Not being able to help but slowly fall in love with the child who's snuggled into your lap.

Each time you kiss his short dark hair, Matty finds his heart skipping a beat. Seeing you with the kid is making him think about the possibilities of your future together and he loves the way he can see it so clearly, he quickly realises just how desperately he wants that for the both of you.

Although, Matty might reconsider when little Sam tells him, "Auntie Y/N/N laughed once and called you the short one."

"Of course she did." Matty shakes his head, looking up at you disapprovingly before he points between the two of us and declares, "Divorced."

Your jaw falls at that which makes little Sam laugh loudly. Matty offers Sam a fist bump as they both start laughing and you let Sam slip from your lap so he can close the distance to Matty on his own two feet.

After the very excitable fist bump Matty ruffles the little man's hair before he wanders off and goes back to playing with your other little cousins. You look back at your gorgeous curly haired brunette and ask, "Divorced then?"

"Oh absolutely not," Matty smirks, shuffling his seat right beside yours so he can wrap his arm around the back of you and he pulls you against him as he whispers in your ear, "Wouldn't know how to live without you now baby, you're mine. Always."

Feeling him plant a quick kiss just under your ear has you needing to take another few seconds to steady your thundering heart after hearing those words. God you love him so so much, and it means more to you that he's still saying all these things after you've been outed all evening by various members of your family.

Just after your little moment, Olly comes back over with more drinks for the two of you, courtesy of your Uncle who just bought a round. And after that people start getting up to dance, so it is hard to stay sitting down when the dance floor gets crowded and you have an excuse to enjoy the music with your boyfriend.

Your cheeks hurt from grinning so hard by the time you get thirsty enough to leave your boyfriend's side and go to the bar. You don't think you'll ever forget the way Matty sang Crazy in Love by Beyonce to you with his arm clutching you tightly against him. Those three words hung on the tip of your tongue and were so close to slipping out during the entirety of that song.

You didn't even have it in you to be embarrassed of the heated kiss you gave Matty when the song came to an end, hoping that the perfect fit of your lips and the rush of emotions that exuded from your pores was felt and understood by him.

When you get to the bar, you look over your shoulder to see your boyfriend taking a seat by your table again. It was pathetic how the bartender catches you staring at the man of your dreams and has to call for you twice before you come out of your trance to give him your order.

The heat in your cheeks doesn't leave, not even when the bartender hands you the drinks and you thank him. But the blush of your cheeks only becomes more noticeable when you turn around to make way back to Matty and you see him with your precious little Sam sitting on his knee, chatting his ear off.

When getting closer to your two favourite boys, your heart flips seeing both of their big grins. You commit the moment to memory as best you can because you don't think you've ever seen anything cuter. However, your doting turns to shock when you get closer and you hear Sam ask your boyfriend a rather shocking question.

"Right, so did you actually get shot and how much money did you steal from that shop?"

"Erm," You stop dead in your tracks as you put your drinks down, and you look between them as you ask, "What's going on?"

Both of them seem to be too involved in their conversation because they ignore you and Matty explains, "Well you see, that wasn't real so I didn't actually get shot but I reckon I took a lot of money."

At that point you understand that they are talking about the Robbers music video that you've put on the clean version of in the past for him. The kid was so smart though that despite not seeing a gun he spotted the blood on Matty so you had to gently explain that he got shot, but that he was okay and fine now.

Little Sam smiles and hugs your boyfriend, "Good. Proud of you, Uncle Matty."

That right there, that Uncle Matty melted both Matty's heart and your own. You don't think you've heard anything cuter and it means the world to the both of you in different ways. You can see it in Matty's eyes, which instantly fall on you at the sound of those words coming from little Sam.

Both of you feel like something locks into place as if that alone is the confirmation of it all. He's yours entirely, and you're his, and neither of you plan on changing that at all. You're sure that an I love you passes between you in that moment. Maybe it's not verbalised, but the way you both look at each screams it, but unfortunately it's not the time or the place to tell each other right now.

"So, Sam," Matty clears his throat a little after giving your little cousin another tight squeeze, "What's your favourite song?"

"Ermmm," Sam thinks for a few seconds before looking at you as he inquires, "The one with all the colours and the numbers." And you can't help but smile at the memories of you having a dance around your Mum and Dads lounge with Sam in your arms as you taught him the fun song.

"TooTime?" Matty starts singing the chorus of it to him then, holding his fingers up for each of the numbers and Sam happily sings along knowing every word.

Both of them succeed in melting your heart even more and love Matty's giggle once he's finished when he asks your little cousin, "Ah yes that's a good one, innit?"

"I love it!" Sam shouts, trying to show just how much he loves it. Matty chuckles at him then, and he happily asks, "Do you want to sing it with me on Karaoke later?"

"Yes!" Little Sam cheers, throwing his arms up in excitement, "I know all of it!"

"Oh wow," Matty gasps and grins showing just how impressed he is with the little guy, "Your Auntie Y/N has taught you very well." Sam nods then looking at you brightly, and you can't help but grin back. He's the most adorable little 6 year old in the world with his ebony hair and green eyes. 

"She's my favourite." Sam tells Matty but it's loud enough for you to hear and you can't help the smile that comes to your face. But your joy slowly slips to curiosity when Matty covers his mouth as he whispers into your little cousin's ear, and slowly you watch as Sam's face lights up. You try but you can't hear what he tells your little cousin over the music that the DJ is playing for the now drunk women on the dancefloor.

So you lean forward and tap Sam's knee, asking, "What's he saying?"

Little Sam looks up at Matty, smiles, and then looks back to you and smirks, "Can't tell you."

You exaggerate your gasp before you say, "You can't have secrets from your favourite."

Sam's very smug when he declares, "Uncle Matty's also my favourite so I can." You playfully narrow your eyes at the child in your boyfriend's lap, but you can't help but adore the way Matty's face lights up at what he said. Whether it was just in jest or not, he loves that he's already being welcomed into the family with open arms.

"When did you get so sassy?" You ask Sam, and when he only offers you a small shrug in answer, you start standing up when you say, "And I'm telling Uncle Olly he's not your favourite Uncle anymore."

Hearing that makes Sam's eyes go wide, "No!"

"I'm telling him right now." You say as you start walking away from the table with a grin on your face.

"Auntie Y/N!" Your little cousin shouts as he scrambles from Matty's lap and chases after you.

Your boyfriend can't help but laugh at the cute scene playing out. He watches as you walk over to Olly who's at the bar with more of his family and Sam is yelling no at you, pleading with you not to spill his secret.

As he watches Olly's jaw dramatically fall though, Matty knows the classified information is out and it's funny watching little Sam be picked up by Olly who he gives a big hug too, and afterwards he's passed to you where you also receive a hug and a big kiss to your cheek.

Matty watches on with adoration in his eyes, loving seeing you so happy. All Matty hopes now is that Sam doesn't reveal their own little secret of what he whispered into his ear.

"Keep it a secret for me, but she's my favourite too. I love her lots."

~*~*~*~

With the kids up on the dancefloor, finally entertaining each other instead of embarrassing you, Matty and you get a moment to breathe. Something which leads to your Mum and Auntie waving the both of you over to them and after sitting down at the circular table, you and Matty fall into easy conversation with them.

You're sitting beside Matty and your Auntie, and your Mum's on your boyfriend's other side, and you and your boyfriend love being filled in on your family gossip that your Auntie has managed to acquire all evening. And you can't help but laugh at how eager Matty looks to be soaking in all of the rumours and theories the sisters have to offer considering he doesn't know half the people that they're talking about.

"So Matty," Your Mum asks, moving the conversation on and gaining his full attention, "When do you go back on tour?"

"Oh well, we have SNL on the eleventh of March and then we pretty much go straight on to doing festivals." Your boyfriend explains.

Your Mum tilts her head a little when she asks, "SNL?" Looking to you for an explanation which you don't hesitate to give her.

"It's that American sketch show that's on at midnight with all of the 'comedians' but they have musical guests on too." You tell them, you're Auntie nodding along in recognition.

"Oh," Your Mum's eyes flick straight back to Matty, her smile is bright as she says, "That sounds fun."

"I think it is to some people. It's entirely too American for me." Matty tells her and your Auntie honestly with a waft of his hand, "But they have us there practising for a full week before even when we've done months of practising the songs on tour."

Needless to say when the announcement went out that they were on SNL you were a little gutted to find that the band weren't going to be involved in any of the sketches themselves. But you guess the average American audience isn't going to want 4 men from Wilmslow when they could have Jenna Ortega instead.

There are mumbles from the sisters about how annoying the rehearsing must be for your boyfriend and the band, but then your Mum turns towards you and asks, "Are you joining him, Y/N/N?"

"Unfortunately, I'll be on the other side of the country," You pout, hating the fact that their SNL date is the night before the Oscars. You smile, "But I'll certainly be watching on TV."

Matty shuffles his chair a bit closer to yours as he proposes over the music, resting his hand on your thigh as he does, "You could join me earlier in the week if you fancy it?"

"I'll have a look what the plan is for rehearsals and meetings beforehand but everything's so busy." You sigh really wishing you could because you'd love to explore New York as you've yet to go. Matty nods understandingly as you lace your fingers with his on your thigh and give him a squeeze. But before he can respond, your auntie chips in, putting her hand on the table in front of you and taps.

"Speaking of," She starts, and gives you her raised eyebrow look that screams you're about to be told off, "You've been so busy you've not done any more book videos recently!"

"I know, I'm sorry," You sigh and pout a bit, half feeling like you've let both her and yourself down since you haven't read and reacted to her or your Mum's recommendations. "I'll jump back in soon. I swear."

You continue to explain yourself, "I've got Amelia's cooking show to edit this week and the Oscar's to prepare for so no updates yet unfortunately."

"Terrible." Your Auntie shakes her head in fake disapproval which makes you laugh so you blow her a kiss to appease her.

As she catches it and pretends to pocket it for later, you catch Matty looking at you curiously, and after raising an eyebrow at him, he asks you, "Book videos?"

"You know how Amelia's got her cooking show as a side gig from Chicken Shop Date?" You ask and Matty nods, having seen that on her instagram in the past, so you continue to explain, "Yeah, well I do like book reviews and stuff on TikTok and Instagram."

"Wait, what?" Matty blinks a couple of times, entirely confused because he's never come across this before. "Why haven't I seen this? I've not even seen you reading."

Yes, he'd seen a bookshelf that was filled back at your flat and books above your desk but nothing that screamed you were a massive reader. A book hoarder maybe, but you'd never even mentioned it to him. Nevermind having not seen anything on your social media about you reading, or being big into giving reviews on them.

"It's on a side account, I keep it separate. Don't post about it on my main account all that often." You explain, before you give him an accusing look, "And I think your tour kept me a bit preoccupied, didn't it? Definitely didn't have time to read then."

Matty almost starts laughing, "It's been a while since tour, baby."

"Okay," You sigh in defeat, but you try and evade the blame regardless by passing it on to him, "You've kept me preoccupied then. No time for reading at the moment."

Your boyfriend hums, accepting his fate for now and not bringing up the fact that you've been deep in your Oscars research for the last few weeks and stressing yourself out over that. His distractions he thinks were the best stress relievers for you, but little did he know you had a different hobby that could have been just as effective. Maybe he'll take you out book shopping in the next few days to treat you to whatever you fancy as a good luck present before he flies to America.

"And I think you forget you only started following me personally in October, life's been pretty hectic for us both since then." You raise your eyebrows at him, but your boyfriend just rolls his eyes playfully knowing you'd pin the blame on him even more somehow.

"Show me?" Matty asks, leaning closer like his proximity will convince you further.

He feels like he needs to find this other piece of your jigsaw. He's half upset with himself that he didn't pick up on your love for literature before now, and the instant you show him he will be following your account.

You smile, tilting your head a little and you look into those gorgeous brown eyes promising, "Later."

"Okay." Matty agrees with a grin before leaning in that bit more and pressing a kiss to your lips.

You savour the first peck you've received in a while and you can't get the smile off your face. Not even as you look back across the table to your Mum and Aunt who are looking at the both of you like gossiping school girls, and you already know you're about to get some teasing.

Your Auntie Sharon can't help but ask you, "Do you feel like you're living some teenage dream?"

Matty cackles at that and pulls you into his side, so you just let your head rest on his shoulder as you giggle and nod, "Every day," and you love the smile the sisters send your way.

It's easy for both you and Matty to see that they are overjoyed with just how happy you are. Matty doesn't think he's ever quite seen so much love shine from a mother and auntie and it makes your boyfriend so beyond happy to see just how much your family adore you and want the best for you. And he loves the fact that he seems to have their approval, if their reactions are anything to go by. He's unable to stop himself from kissing the top of your head.

"Speaking of," Matty says, pulling back for a moment so you can see him again, and he has the biggest grin you've ever seen on his lips, "I wanna see your room."

Immediately you remember that you need to gut the place as soon as you get back home. Your Mum starts silently pissing herself at Matty's request and you know your Aunt has seen the state of your bedroom too so she knows the panic you must be feeling. You 100% can not have him see the posters of his band on your wall, so you just chuckle and shake your head, "Not until later."

And thankfully Matty doesn't get the chance to pry because your 3 little cousins run up to the both of you and start begging your boyfriend to join them on karaoke which he agrees to very quickly. And it is one of the best moments of the night when you see the four of them up there singing, the kids really needing the autotune Matty normally has on but it's adorable nevertheless. And your heart all but stops when your boyfriend gets them all dancing, but it's when Zack and his little sister Macie pull you up with them to dance too which is the most fun. Because never in your life has it been hard to dance to one of Matty's songs.

Afterwards the night seems to pass by in a blur of dancing, loud music, and alcohol. Around 10, the kids end up leaving as they are all slowly falling asleep and the parents take them home but not before you kiss your little cousins goodbye.

After Olly leaves, you and Matty stick to yourselves in the booth that the three of you were once occupying. And the rest of your night is spent drinking and people watching from your quiet corner of the room.

You're unsure how, but you end up sitting in Mattys lap, his hold on your waist tight to keep you cosied up to him and your legs are over him, his other hand gently stroking the back of your thigh. The anecdotes of your family has Matty giggling and he loves hearing you talk about them with such delight clear in your voice.

The joy sticks with the both of you as you leave and make it back to your parents house. Your family's drunk antics have you all giggling in the back of the taxi and the laughter continues once you're all inside your childhood home.

Your Dad heads straight for the kitchen for another beer and he offers Matty one which he politely declines after your Mum offers him a cup of tea instead. You jump on the brew order, not needing to be any more tipsy than you already are and so your Mum puts your Dad to work making those.

Just as Matty's slipping his shoes off in the hall, he asks you, "Where's your toilet?"

"Upstairs, and it's the second door on the left." You tell him, "Don't get lost."

"I'll endeavour not to." Your boyfriend smiles before quickly kissing your cheek and jogging up the stairs.

You can't quite get the grin off your face as you head into the lounge, and you see your Mum smiling at you and you give her a hug because you could never give the gorgeous woman enough of them. She embraces you like any loving mother should, giving you a long warm hug which you realise how much you miss not being at your disposal all the time. When you pull back from her, she doesn't let you go far, holding your shoulders as she gives you a look that screams she's about to be serious.

"So," She starts.

You're a bit nervous asking, "So?"

"You're happy?" Your Mum asks, and you all but breathe a sigh of relief.

You promise her, a smile growing on your face as you nod, "The happiest I've been in a long time."

"It shows, darling." She grins, and rubs your arms a little as she continues, "I'm so thrilled for you."

"You approve then?" You ask after giggling a little.

"Not that us not approving would make a single bit of difference to you going out with the man who you've got posters of in your bedroom." Your Mum laughs a bit but nods, "He's a gentleman, couldn't ask for any better."

Your stomach drops slightly, still stuck on the first thing she said, "I need to take them down," You panic knowing there's a fair bit of 1975 memorabilia in your bedroom, so you plead with her, "You'll have to distract him for me in a bit."

"I will happily chat his ears off. And yes, we approve." You Mum chuckles, but then her words almost make you cry when she softly grabs your hand and squeezes as she says, "It'd be difficult not to when you see someone caring for your daughter and making her so happy."

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you pull her into another tight hug and after a second of being in her embrace you whisper, "Thank you Mum. Love you."

"Love you more," She tells you before your Dad shouts that your drinks are ready in the kitchen.

The cup of tea was a much needed rest bite after a night of drinking, but you realise how much time has passed when you're half way through your brew and Matty's still not come down to collect his. "He's been up there a while." You hum aloud, getting slightly paranoid he's in your bedroom, planning an escape after seeing himself on your bedroom walls.

Your Dad laughs, "Still on the toilet or snooping?"

"Either is plausible. He also could have fallen asleep." You chuckle, but then you decide to grab both of your brews and head upstairs, "I'll go up and make sure he's not stuck in the bathroom."

"Night lovie." Your Mum blows you a kiss after your Dad says, "Goodnight."

"Night night." You smile before heading up.

And you know your fears are confirmed that your boyfriend is in fact having a nosey when you see that your bedroom door is open and the light is on. Sighing slightly, you prepare to bite the bullet and you step into your old room and see that your boyfriend is standing, staring at your poster filled walls.

"You're a snoop." You shake your head as you put your mugs down on your bedside table.

Matty's head flies around to look at you then, and thankfully instead of seeing horror, his face is full of amusement.

"Can you blame me?" Your boyfriend chuckles, looking back at your walls, "I feel like I've just walked into your head."

He's not far wrong with that analogy. There's the big black and white 1975 poster on your wall which is the same as the picture inside the self titled vinyl of the boys in 2013. Smaller posters surround it, some of other musicians like Lana Del Rey, The Neighbourhood, and you have a bigger Arctic Monkeys one from the AM era not far from it.

Horrifyingly for you though, there's a lot more 1975 stuff around your room though, whether that be the vinyls proudly displayed on your shelves, lyrics posters, little drawings of the band you found online in your youth that you were gifted for your birthday. Not to mention pictures you had printed out from their various gigs you've been to over the year. There was a lot of memorabilia to say the least, and you just have to pray your boyfriend doesn't run in the other direction.

On the brighter side, looking at your bedroom now you realise that if you posted a picture of it to Tumblr back in the day you'd have gone viral long before Chicken Shop Date ever existed. What a wasted opportunity, because you certainly won't be doing so now.

"Yeah twenty-year-old-me's head." You chuckle, because if you don't laugh at yourself, you will cry. "You don't consume my head like this anymore."

Matty glances at you then and his look screams that he doesn't believe a word that's just left your lips. Which in fairness it was a bit of a lie, but he consumes your thoughts now in a much different way to what he did back then. You loved his music and the version of himself he let the world see back then, but now you're in love with him, the real him, more and more so every day.

You hum truthfully, "There's a few more posters I'd have up now of a few other people."

"Slightly offended," Matty nods, turning properly towards you then, "But I'll allow it."

Your boyfriend steps to just in front of you then, and he grabs your hands and squeezes them for a second before he moves closer and holds your hips to his instead. There's a small hopeful smile on your face then, feeling like from the gesture alone you don't have to be scared of the answer to your question, "Scared you off?"

Matty silently chuckles at that, and he looks so lovingly into your eyes that you're sure your heart skips a beat as he says, "You'd have to have a lot worse than posters of my band on your wall to scare me off baby."

You hum, your grin getting bigger as you wrap your arms around his neck and start twirling the curls at the back of his head. "You don't know about a few things."

"The cardboard cutout of me in your wardrobe?" Matty can't help but grin with a raised eyebrow.

Your jaw falls open, and you're fully frozen for a moment before you gasp, "You massive snoop!"

Matty quickly kisses your shock away with a laugh before pulling out of your grasp and heading over to the guilty wardrobe. He looks so excited to reveal it, it makes you want to die. "No, your Mum told me about that one." Matty gets the door, opening it to reveal that on the back of the door is a 2014 him with his hair flicked over to one side of his head, wearing a denim jacket and black skinny jeans.

Whilst you're mortified because your boyfriend has seen a cardboard cutout of himself, you can't help the small smile that forms on your lips in reaction to that picture of him. It's always been one of your favourites, but it seems Matty doesn't feel the same way.

Matty's frowning as he looks at himself, "That's such an awkward picture of me."

"Don't you dare," You slap his shoulder, upset that he feels that way about that picture of himself, "It was one of my favourites."

Matty hums, looking between you and the life-sized cutout before asking you accusingly, "How many times have you kissed it?"

"No," Your face immediately flushes then, and your hands come up to hide yourself from him as you scorn, "Stop it Matthew."

Your boyfriend can't help the loud laugh that leaves his lips then, your reaction alone being confirmation enough for him. "I'll take that as more than once." Matty chuckles as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up twirling you around which makes a little surprised squeal leave you.

It ends up with you both giggling and as Matty places you back on solid ground, he's unable to stop himself from gently grabbing your chin and guiding your lips to his. Only then does a satisfied hum leave his lips, feeling like he's been starved of your kisses all night in comparison to how you've been together the past few weeks.

You stand there for a little while, blissed out in each other's company as you kiss, needing it after a long night of you being surrounded by others. Your little bubble is back and you take full advantage of having him back all to yourself. The love you have for this man radiates from you and you hope that he can feel it despite you still not being brave enough to say it out loud. But at this point words aren't necessary, the way you are with each other speaks volumes and it's clear to everyone who sees you that the two of you are in love. And you can both feel it too.

Once you eventually catch up on lost time from having his lips on your own, you take a seat on your bed after handing Matty his brew and you start finishing your own as your boyfriend carries on looking around your bedroom. 

"Now I know you're into reading, I'm only just realising how many books you have." He smiles, glancing over the shelves across the top of your picture rail that are filled to the brim with books.

"Yeah," You hum, looking at them with a smile on your face before you explain, "They are all in different spots in my flat so I guess it's not as obvious it's a hobby."

"You have so many." Matty smiles, and after taking a sip of his tea he asks, "Have you read them all?"

"God no," You shake your head, "Probably most of them, but the aim is to fill out a little library room in my future home. That's the dream... Rolling ladder and everything."

The smile Matty gives you then makes your heart warm, and it's every girl's dream that their boyfriend responds to that dream with, "I'm down to make that happen."

As you take your last gulp of your tea, Matty moves over to the set of books that are proudly displayed on top of your chest of drawers and asks, "What are these books with the tabs in?"

And seeing the multicoloured series combined with your boyfriend picking one up, it makes you almost spit your tea out. Attempting to remain calm, you shake your head and nod to the red book in his hand, "We don't talk about these books. Pretend you never saw them."

Matty flips it round to see the cover properly and starts, "A Court of-"

"No," You all but yelp as you stand and grab the book from his hand and place it nearly back with the others in the series, "You never saw them, ignore them."

"Hard to ignore when there's so many notes in them." Matty raises his eyebrows at you.

"Hush." You say, grabbing his free hand and pulling him back towards your bed, "You've just reminded me I need to text Flo."

"What you texting her about?" Your boyfriend asks as you get her contact up on your phone, "I've not done anything wrong, have I?

"No," You chuckle, squeezing his hand before you let it go as you sit on your bed and start typing, "You're good. I promise."

Just wondering if it was you or Alex who read acomaf and he wrote body paint bc you recreated a specific chapter????? Let me know 👀x

Matty sees you grinning as you type out your text, so he has to ask, "What you messaging her?"

As your boyfriend tries to be nosy and sits beside you, trying to look over at your phone, after sending the message you lock your phone and smile at him. You briefly lean towards him and place a kiss on his cheek after you say, "That's for me and her to know and for you and Alex to find out."

Matty hums and kisses your lips, but then he smirks as he says, "Sounds like a fun night."

You burst out laughing, "Shut up."

And in the morning you'll be laughing again when you see Florence's reply of, I'll leave you to your own deductions, but I'll say there's more than one reason I call him Darling... If you know what I mean 😜😘x

Feeling the day start to catch up with you, you start getting yourself ready for bed, getting your pyjamas on and you leave Matty in your room as you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You're happily washing your face still with the slight buzz all the alcohol you had tonight mixed with feeling head over heels in love, and you look at yourself in the mirror and notice just how happy you are.

You truly don't think you've ever been this happy in yourself. Everything in your life is currently so amazing and has a magical feel to it, you hope that this joy you're feeling never ends. You have a career which is only flourishing more and more now you and Amelia are getting the credit you've long deserved, your family are all happy and healthy, and you have a boyfriend who makes you feel like a princess and who you're madly in love with.

However, happiness like this can't last forever. And your boyfriend makes damn sure of that. From the bathroom, you hear him shout your name and when you respond, he asks, "Why have you marked a page where the guy says, 'Put your hands on the headboard.'?"

You all but choke on the air in your lungs, and you can see your now horrified expression in the mirror as you yell back, "No, STOP!"

"You dirty bitch," Matty laughs loudly, "You marked all of the sex scenes."

You barely dry your face before running back to your room and see the horrific sight that is Matty Healy reading A Court Of Silver Flames on your bed. It's all forms of wrong, mostly because he's reading the smut, but also because he's reading the 5th instalment of the series first and that's crazy spoilers.

It gets worse for you when you see him flick to another of your tabs earlier in the book and his eyes go wide after he looks at the page and then to you and there is the beginnings of a smirk on his lips as he asks, "They did what under the table?"

"Matty, give me the book." You hold your hand out to it, but your boyfriend has none of it.

His eyes are back on the page, no doubt reading the notes you annotated on the page, and he can't help but laugh, "So that's where you learned to do that."

At this point you've had enough, fully scurrying over your bed and throwing a leg over to straddle him to try and pin him down to your bed as you try and get your book back. "That book came out two years ago. I knew how to do that long before," You make it very clear.

Matty can only cackle, trying to push himself up and raising the book above his head so it's out of your reach. He shakes his head at you, but his smile is coy and suggestive as he looks at you accusingly, "You filthy little slut."

"Don't call me that when you've just read that." You warn him, shaking your head, one hand thankfully now on your book, "I know what you're doing."

"Caught me." Matty chuckles, still not releasing your novel though. He smirks as he says, "You're still a slut though."

You sigh at that and just decide to own it and shrug with a little smile finding its way to your lips. But you can't help but laugh when Matty adds, "My slut." And you just quickly lean down and press a kiss to his lips to shut him up.

When you finally pry the book from your boyfriend's hands and he laughs at you for quite a while, but you just put it back where it belongs before getting yourself into bed. Matty then decides he wants to do his skincare which makes you whine, not bothering to do yours tonight, and after you told him this he decided that he was going to be the one to take on the task.

After telling him off for using far too much product both on his face and your own, the both of you settle into bed, only being disturbed by your Mum knocking on your door to ask if Matty was indeed snooping. You all laugh after you tell her that he was and your boyfriend tries to defend himself which makes you scoff. Your Mum just laughs along before bidding the both of you goodnight.

Fifteen minutes pass of you and Matty catching up on the day's events that you might have missed on your phones. But then Matty gets carried away when he asks for your BookTok account and you reluctantly show him which leads to him going down a rabbit hole with your videos for another 10 minutes before you confiscate his phone and tell him that he can look at more tomorrow.

Now, you're both cuddled up in the darkness of your room, breathing each other in and you're practically melting into your boyfriend as his hand is routed in your hair, giving you a head massage. You're getting sleepy now, the alcohol definitely catching up with you and being so warm in the arms of the man you love only adds to the comfort and peacefulness.

Before you succumb to sleep, you say, "Thank you for being so lovely with my family tonight."

"Thank you for inviting me, baby." Matty smiles, kissing your forehead softly as he adds, "I had a lovely time."

"Truly Matty," You say, sounding a little more awake as you really want him to know how genuine you are when you say, "Thank you for being so lovely, especially with the kids."

Matty is smiling at the memory of all of you on the dancefloor earlier this evening when he tells you honestly, "I love kids. It was no trouble at all."

You hum, already knowing just how good he was with children. Seeing him with Adam and Carly's little boy was enough proof of that, but him being equally as adorable with your family really melted your heart. It certainly had you thinking about future possibilities.

"I think Sam liked you." You whisper into his neck. Matty hums in agreement, and after a few seconds he replies, "I think Sam's my favourite of them, if I'm allowed to say that."

"I don't think we're supposed to admit it, but he's my favourite too." You spill your little secret. You do miss the nights you were babysitting him a lot, you miss him like crazy and you are definitely going to arrange for him to come to your flat again soon so you can spoil him rotten.

You can't get over tonight though, the memories replaying quickly in your mind leads you to be grinning like a fool as you say, "You doing karaoke with him might have been my favourite moment of tonight."

Matty's kissing your forehead again and you expect another hum of agreement, but he surprises you when he says, "My favourite moment was finding that cardboard cut out."

Immediately you slap his bare chest and tell him, "Stop it right now," as you feel yourself flush.

Matty can't help his cackle then, but he has to push you a little, "What would nineteen year old you be thinking right now if she knew ten years later I'd be in this bed with you?"

You chuckle at that, and there's no hesitation in your answer, "She'd be saying 'fuck the risks, get all his clothes off'." You tease him then and let your hand run down his chest until your fingertips are tracing the elastic of his boxers.

Matty's breath catches in his throat for a second then, but he thinks he does well at restraining himself when he just brushes his lips against your ear and encourages, "You're more than welcome to."

You smirk, loving the thought but you're having none of it, "Absolutely not."

Matty chuckles knowing it was coming and he can only say he's thankful that you move your hand from his waistband before any more sinful thoughts run through his mind. Although he thinks the fact he's quite literally on your walls and the revelation he's had about you reading smutty books, he does think you'd quite enjoy what he has in mind. Maybe another time though.

There's a few minutes of silence between you then, and you're very nearly asleep when your boyfriend asks, "Got anything else you wanna tell me baby?"

By your slow and sleepy response alone, Matty knows he's lucky he caught you still awake, "Nothing else yet until we're married with kids so you can't run away scared."

"Come on, can't be that bad." He encourages.

You hum, "It is." But you're happy enough as there's no way in hell you're telling him a thing.

Matty lets the silence pass between you then, and you're about to slip into sleep until he speaks back up. And your world cracks with his words, "Is it the fanfiction you wrote about me?"

Pulling out of his grasp immediately, you feel wide awake with your heart beating out of your chest as you stumble asking, "How- H- How do you know about that?" Your blood has certainly just run cold and you're sure that if there was any light in the room you would look extremely ill because you certainly feel it. Never have you felt so mortified in your life.

But Matty's just grinning as he explains, "Dimz is very keen on embarrassing you when she's drunk."

"I hate her so much." You curse her as you roll away from him and hide into your pillow, willing your bed to suffocate you.

Matty just laughs at your reaction though and follows you over to the other side of your bed. He doesn't let you escape, instead he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you gently back into him as he says into your ear, "I wanna know what it's called and what it was about."

"Absolutely not, no, never." You mumble into your pillow. 

After a few minutes of reassurance that he's not bothered by it, and he hasn't been put off by your deepest darkest secret, you vow that you're going to get Amelia back for her betrayal. Apparently he's known about it for a while and has never been fussed by the news, which might be the only blessing of the whole situation. Although you still would have preferred him to find out about it years, if not decades down the line.

Eventually, after a lot of coxing and playful kisses, he has you back facing him and you've relaxed against his warm body again. And you think your soul yearns for him once more when his nose rubs against yours as he whispers, "Obsessed with you baby."

"Obsessed with you too." You hum, a smile dancing over your lips which Matty can't help but kiss a few times.

Only when your kisses cease does he grin, "Oh, I know."

~*~*~*~ 7th March 2023 ~*~*~*~

Going to Los Angeles, for one of the most nerve-wracking weekends of your life, after having spent the best time with your family and your boyfriend was a change big enough to give you whiplash. Not to mention the horrendous jet lag that had messed up your schedule the first day in LA.

You and Amelia had been trying to fight the consequences of the change of time-zones, and the effects of your nerves when thinking of the upcoming events. At least you were able to be productive when you and your best friend were stuck being up during the night, and had started your practising of questions and notes about all the different people that would attend the Oscars After Party.

The day has been spent rehearsing, doing fittings for the content you were recording, and having a meeting with the Vanity Fair team. And though you've only done a few things, the day has felt so long; you could've shed tears of happiness when getting back to your hotel room. It is mostly because jet lag has been kicking your arse, so running yourself a bath and reading a book in the tub is your form of self-care tonight.

You do your skincare routine once out of the bath and let your hair air dry as you continue reading your book. However, your reading is interrupted when your phone starts ringing from where it landed on the bed after you tossed it as soon as you got back.

You almost don't go over to pick it up, but when you catch a glimpse of a silly photo of your boyfriend that you have as his contact picture, you almost throw the book over your shoulder and answer his call.

"How's your day going baby?" He says with a loopy smile as soon as you answer.

It's embarrassing the way your expression instantly falls into an enamoured one when you see his pretty face. For a second, you forget how draining the day has been, until you remember he asked you a question, "Yeah okay, thank you. It's just such a massive production, it's a lot to wrap my head around." When you think about it, you get nervous all over again, "I'm glad we got here a week before; lets it all sink in a bit more."

"Yeah and it's completely understandable that you'd need time to adjust to it," He can also see how tired you look, probably jet lag, and the nerves must be playing with you to make it worse. "Remember it's still only your third carpet like this and you've smashed it each time, so you're only gonna get better and better."

You roll your eyes at yourself because your insides melt when hearing him reassure you. A drunk-in-love giggle almost slips past your lips as you say, "Thank you baby, I hope so."

Matty is not having any doubt though, so he states, "You will."

If he keeps saying stuff like that, you will either cry because he's not next to you or simply manage to push those three words that keep coming to your mind when you see him, so you change the topic, "Well enough about me, how are your rehearsals going?"

You need the inside gossip on Saturday Night Live. Any and all details you'll happily eat up.

"It's okay, thank you. Just boring as fuck now the promo pictures and clips are done," The way he sighs and rolls his eyes in annoyance makes you giggle. He's a sassy one.

"Surely you get to see them practising the sketches," You reply excitedly, you had always been fascinated by the process behind SNL, "That must be cool."

He bursts your bubble by funnily pointing out, "No baby, it's so painfully American. Once you've seen it once. It's just shit."

"But you're so easily impressed," You joke with a smirk on your face. "How are you struggling?"

"Ha ha." He says dryly but a smile plays on those gorgeous lips, "You'd understand if you were here seeing it."

Your chest sinks a little as you say, "I'm sorry I can't be."

"Don't be silly, you're busy," Matty says quickly, taking it back because he did not mean to make it sound like that. There's a pout on your face though so to try and distract you, he continues updating you on his rehearsal process, "We're rehearsing for a few hours and then pissing about for the rest of the day."

That automatically piques your interest, "What have you been entertaining yourselves with?"

"Today I'm going to meet Caveh. Remember, he's the one I told you about that's basically fucked his marriage over the fact he's videoing every aspect of his life."

"Oh yeah. That should be interesting." The memory of Matty showing you about that man comes to the forefront of your mind, and after your boyfriend filled you in on some of the 'lore' behind him, you were very intrigued by him. So it would be fun to see what Matty could find out from meeting him.

Your boyfriend has been so fascinated by him that you can see his excitement through his expression, "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it."

"What else have you been occupying yourself with?" You further ask, because there is no way he has been able to stay in his hotel room doing nothing. He's full of energy, like a fucking golden retriever, and you know it very well.

Mysterious, as he always tries to be, he replies, "Something I actually need your help with soon."

You sigh, thinking back to the many things he had said prior to you parting ways, "Matty we've discussed this: I'm not sending nudes regardless of time difference."

"No baby, not that," He huffs funnily, before he backtracks and very honestly says, "Although I do want to FaceTime again later."

You narrow your eyes at him and deem him, "Filthy."

All smug, he shrugs, "You know me."

You shake your head at him, but your curiosity is itching you so you ask again, "What do you need me for other than your filthy habits?"

He sits up straight, and gets all serious, "So me and Jordan are filming some stuff, making it a bit of like a day-in-the-life thing but funny, hopefully. I was just wondering if you'd do the honour of editing it all together?" 

You're so intrigued by him proposing the idea that he's essentially recording vlogs, not expecting that from him at all, so you're even more intrigued now as to which direction he will take when making them because there is no way it isn't for a bit that will become something bigger. While you try to think what he could be actually doing, you're silent so your boyfriend takes this as hesitancy and quickly adds, "No pressure if not, Jordan can manage just fine but I'd really love to have you involved in some way or another. And I know just how good you are, so I thought I'd ask."

You can't help but pout at him for being so cute, "I'd love to, might just have to finish it up properly after the Oscars."

He nods childishly, "Of course, that's fine."

Looking at your state, in your bathrobe while laying atop of the bed, you actually tell him, "You can send me stuff in the meantime, I'm not doing much when we aren't rehearsing, in fittings, or revising."

He tuts at you, "You should be out and about exploring LA."

You shrug, "Yeah but I plan to stay out here a bit longer so I can do that afterwards."

"I'm gonna fly out to you after SNL," Your boyfriend states.

Biting your bottom lip, you get a bit shy when you think you don't want to burden him by cutting short his very much needed rest before resuming his world tour, "You don't have to if you wanna go home."

He doesn't even have to think about it, "Why would I wanna be at home if you're not there?"

You press your lips together, holding back from the urge to screech at his words. Instead you let out an unconvinced, "Home comforts?"

He rolls his eyes, before staring at you through the screen, "You're my home comfort. Wherever you are is home, baby."

You can't hold it together anymore, covering your face with one of your hands and fully melting into the mountain of plush pillows, "I'm still too jet lagged for you to be cute, don't make me cry."

He coos, "Don't want you crying baby. I do miss you though."

"I miss you too..." you pout at him, and he pouts back while fluttering his lashes at you. You laugh at his puppy face, "God we're so pathetic, it's only been a few days."

He grins big and bright, "Ahhh but we're young romantics, it's the way."

You sigh, thinking ahead, "God help us when you go back on tour."

"Don't remind me," he groans, running a hand over his face. "I do hope you can come to a few of them."

You hum, as if you're considering it, but when you see him frowning, you giggle and assure him, "I'm sure I'll get to some."

In a shy little voice, he proposes, "You can book off our next UK tour."

"Well of course..." You say, because that was always the plan. You remember a very important aspect of a certain show though, "Just let me know when it'll be and I'll round up the family for your London date."

Your heart practically leaps from your chest when you see his face light up at the mention of your family and all those he had invited over to the shows, "Yes, I can't wait to have all the fam there!"

Something very important comes to mind when you think about his shows, so you feel the urge to say, "But can you do me a favour though and stop being a slut and pulling your top up when you sing? It's very distracting."

"I'll try," he quips back with a smirk. "Don't want to out you as my whore to your whole family, right?"

Your jaw is basically on the floor at his words, but you're quick to get yourself together and reply with rosy cheeks, "Okay, save those thoughts for later Mr. Healy."

His voice drops an octave when he says, "Baby..." with that smirk that makes your knees weak.

But you need to be strong so you look away and go back to something else, "Anyway, tell me more about your funny vlogs. And what elaborate title have you come up with for this series of videos?"

"I don't like the fact you know I've come up with a big name," He has the audacity to say with a frown.

You roll your eyes sarcastically, "You're so predictable." a smile playing on your lips that you can't quite hide.

He offers you a blank face and no enthusiasm as he says, "Gee, thanks."

"Come on, what's it called?" You urge, knowing that it's something ridiculous.

He sighs and lets the silence linger for a little, your curiosity growing and showing on your face, before he lets out, "A Theatrical Performance of an Intimate Moment."

You're so confused at first, the 'intimate moment' bit throwing you off instantly, so you quickly declare, "Yeah, I will definitely steer clear of actually being in these videos."

"Why?" He asks, almost offended.

You can't believe he's asking why when it's so obvious, "It sounds like a shit sex tape!"

He scoffs, shaking his head entirely in disapproval, "You're a little shit."

"L-" You catch yourself before you say it. A sarcastic 'love you' is not how you want to say those words for the first time. But you realise again just how much you need to say those words to him soon, it's getting painful to withhold them now. You laugh to disguise your previous mistake before saying, "Little shit I might be, but it does sound like a porno."

He thinks about it for a second, smirking when he gets your point, "Well, if you put it that way... You sure you don't wanna star in it baby?"

~*~*~*~ SNL Day ~*~*~*~

Matty is having an awful day. The worst in fact. For the most part, he tried not to let it show. He first battled his feelings by recording another section of the A Theatrical Performance of an Intimate Moment, but clearly being trapped inside a suitcase for a prolonged period of time left Matty to stew in his thoughts for a long while which made his mood worse when he eventually escaped his self-inflicted trap.

While the bits he directed Jordan to record of George slamming the now empty suitcase into a wall did make him laugh, the deflating feelings stuck around. And Matty would love to say the reason is solely because he's had enough of this week being trapped in America and being forced to be on the set of a show they weren't needed for five days of rehearsals for, he's lying to himself.

Matty knows and has buried the reason he's in such a foul mood now only hours before showtime is because he's not in America with you. He's on the other side of the country from you when all he's like to do is trap you in a never ending series of hugs and kisses. And to top the day off, he's barely had a chance to speak to you today with the time difference and the fact that you've been preparing and rehearsing yourself all day.

The only saving grace about today for Matty had been the meal that he had with his family and friends. The band, his Mum, Lincoln, and Jack and his fiance all had a big meal together in a lovely restaurant. But the actual saving grace of that meal was the fact it was the last time he spoke to you before he was whisked away back to Rockefeller Plaza for SNL.

You'd been telling him about your day which you'd mentioned had been really long, going over and over what was going ahead the following day. And then you told him that you were due a full dress rehearsal that evening which you were nervous for.

Matty reassured you endlessly, and he loved hearing your voice on the other end of the phone. It picked his mood up so much that when you eventually had to say goodbye because you were called upon, it left him longing for more. The last thing he wanted was to be overbearing, but maybe it was the mere fact that Matty knew he couldn't get ahold of you because your phone was in a green room in LA and not on your person just made you feel that much further from reach. His mood was back to being pouty and distant, the only thing he wanted to do was sit in the corner of his own green room in NYC and stare at pictures of you he had on his phone.

Whether that be the funny ones you'd snapped of yourself on his phone pulling a funny face when he wasn't watching just to fill his camera roll with nonsense, or the selfies he'd taken of you together in bed on lazy mornings. His favourites were the ones that just had you in it, the innocent ones that he'd take of you in his home, sitting reading away or cooking, or simply the ones of you giggling at something he said while he had his camera on you.

Matty adores every last inch of you, and he has your stunning faces memories down to the finest detail. How could he not when he's so irrevocably in love? All he wants right now is to be by your side cheering you on instead of hearing your prep day stories on the other end of the phone. Matty wishes he could actually be kissing your cheek instead of looking at his Lock Screen of him doing exactly that.

The singer releases a long sigh at the fact he can't do any of those things in the slightest and he won't be able to for quite a while. With another deflated sigh Matty locks his phone, closes his eyes and rests his head against the back of the settee. He planned on staying that way, maybe having a nap just to pass the time, until he felt a kick to the shin.

Opening his eyes, all Matty was met with is George frowning, asking, "Are you gonna get the stick out of your arse at some point today?"

"What?" He raises his eyebrows.

"You heard," The drummer tells him, "Pull the stick out your arse mate, you're in the worst mood."

Matty rolls his eyes at the drummer and mutters, "Sorry, I just want this to be over with now."

"It's alright, we get it, but come on. Can't have you looking like this when we've got America to impress."

He knows George is trying to make him laugh, but it fails. Matty shows no enthusiasm as he lets out a big exhale and his words come out defeated, "Yeah I know, I just wanna get it done."

"With a smile, I beg." Jamie pleads, putting his hands together to emphasise how much he would love for Matty to adorn that stage persona in another hour.

"Yeah, yeah."

Bless Adam, he hears and sees the lack of joy from Matty and he is quick to sit right next to him to offer, "You wanna talk about what's up?"

Matty sighs, allowing himself a deep breath to not let his mate be on the receiving end of his foul mood, "No Hann, I'm good. I don't even really know what's up, I just don't wanna be here anymore." It was just one of those days when everything felt wrong. He just couldn't be arsed anymore, especially with it being such an unnecessarily long gig, just so the only Americans who watched the dumb programme could go on twitter and ask 'who are these 1975 guys?'

However, Matty doesn't realise that everyone just knows he's in a bad mood because he's acting like a love sick puppy. "We've been here for days watching and waiting, and it's fucking boring at this point when we've performed these two songs almost a hundred times now."

Adam sighs, his hand coming to pat Matty's back in a show of reassurance, "I know mate, but after tonight we can go back home and be done with it."

Be done with it? God Matty can't wait for that moment. But going back home? While you're over in LA? Matty doesn't think he can do it at all. Not for another day. He can't begin to bear it. So after doing a bit of googling and seeing that no flight will get him there quick enough, Matty brings up a contact of a friend he's not long since left.

Jack, could I ask a massive favour please?

Matty doesn't have to wait long for a reply.

Course buddy, anything. What can I do for you?

After all arrangements are put in place not even ten minutes later, Matty locks his phone, his chest feeling lighter almost instantly and he disguards the device, "Right Jamie lets mess about, grab the guitar and I'll Google some chords, George you get the weed, Ross get the alcohol."

Ross scoffs and sarcastically asks, "Anything else sire?"

Matty groans, but a smile is still plastered on his face despite the fact that his following words sound slightly irritated, "Oh piss off."

Adam scolds Ross, pointing out, "He's smiling again, everyone do your tasks!"

In a few minutes, they're all sitting round the lounge area with Jamie playing the guitar, Matty using his phone looking for chords for different songs they all enjoy, George is rolling a couple spliffs, and Ross is pouring a few shots.

After the induction of alcohol and hearing Jamie Squire's phenomenal voice singing The Corrs, with everyone singing along to a bit of Shania Twain improv, Matty started to feel a lot better. Or that was until he got a tobacco craving and his usual security wasn't around to safely take him to where he needed. It hit Matty all over again then that he couldn't just go and have a fag in peace, he needed security, how depressing.

"Where's Mark?" He huffs like a little kid, the craving becoming an annoying itch he needs to scratch the more he looks around and can't find his security.

Ross is busy on his phone, so he barely looks up and shrugs to say, "Dunno."

An eye roll is all Matty offers the bassist, and then goes around the room and the hallways asking, "Anyone seen Mark? I wanna go for a smoke."

There is only so much the singer can go with getting the same negative response, especially since that irritation from earlier was creeping back on him and he was well aware of it. Matty ends up leaving their room just to see if the big man was standing guard outside, but unfortunately luck still isn't on his side as Mark's nowhere to be found.

With quick fingers, he messages Mark. Clear and straight to the point.

Mark, where you at man???

Wanna go for a smoke but you're not here to serve and protect?!?!?!!

Matty paces up and down the hall as he waits for an answer. He almost starts counting down the seconds it takes Mark to say something back after a few minutes, but before he can start cursing out to the wind, his phone pings in his hand.

Sorry Matty, had to go back to the hotel. Upset stomach from lunch, ain't a pretty sight.

He wants to pull the hair out of his scalp when reading that, groaning out loud at the news. There is no pun intended since his fingers move quicker than his thoughts when he replies: Shit man. 

Mark has seen Matty grow up basically, and they are so far beyond regular human boundaries by now that it is a no-brainer for Matty to dial his phone number and wait for the big man to answer, even if he's in the bathroom.

Worried, the singer asks, "You okay mate?"

Mark very quickly lets out in that neutral tone he always uses, "Not really Matty. In a lot of pain."

"You on the shitter?" Matty snorts out at the end, still finding a bit of comedy in the situation.

He hears the man sigh loudly before scolding him, "You're a little shit. You've got Tim with you, I'll see you tomorrow."

Matty cackles at Mark's loss of patience, but he doesn't let him go without saying, "Jokes aside, I hope you're alright mate." Of course, as the kid he is, he cannot hold back from adding, "I'll buy you a new pair of pants for tomorrow."

"Get gone, you little fucker," Mark hisses down the line, making Matty erupt in a string of silly giggles. Hearing Matty's laughter always gets Mark, so he chuckles lightly before wishing the lad, "Good luck."

Mark definitely regrets being a nice person when all Matty does is quip back with, "Good luck on the shitter." The last that Matty hears on the phone is a loud huff that makes him cackle again, the echo of his laughter so loud in the empty halls that he misses any sound coming from the other side of the line before Mark hangs up.

Finding Mark's situation so hilarious lifts Matty's spirits, so he goes back into their greenroom with a loopy smile. Everyone is sort of shocked to see him smiling again, but they don't question it since they need him in the best of moods for the show.

Still craving a smoke though, Matty decides that instead of being a responsible adult and going to find Tim, he gathers the lads and takes the spliffs that George has so deftly rolled from the coffee table. Instead of being hounded outside and risking the full show going to shit, they opt for smoking into the vent of the bathroom ceiling in hopes that the smoke alarm doesn't go off. Matty can't help but also think that this is excellent material for A Theoretical Performance of an Intimate Moment so he asks Jordan to start filming too which ends up with the chosen few laughing loudly at the shit the singer spews from his mouth without any prompting.

Thankfully no fire alarm was sounded during the fun pastime, but each and every one of them smoking weed in the bathroom almost pulled a Mark and shat themselves when there was a loud knock on their greenroom door. Never had a spliff been put out faster than that moment, which when Matty, George, and Jordan all head back out to the lounge area to see it's only Denise and Lincoln at the door there's a silent groan for wasting the rest of a good smoke.

All that being said, the singer can't be annoyed seeing how happy his Mum currently looks as she makes Ross get up and give her a cuddle after she lets go of Adam. Once released from the hug, Denise turns to see the faint smile on Matty's face and declares it a far better state than what Adam told her it had been before. So she grins brightly and almost shouts, "Thank goodness you lot have got him in a better mood."

"You alright Mum?" Matty asks as he walks up to her and Lincoln.

"Good, thanks chick." Denise hums, and as she hugs her son, she adds, "You look like you're having fun."

Matty giggles, his eyes closing slightly as he gives her a squeeze, "Yeah it's been funny."

George is obviously the next target for Denise's hugs, but as the gentle giant hugs her, he realises his mistake when she all but freezes in his arms. He's not closed or moved away from the toilet door. Her keen sense of smell means that George gets a slap on the chest and a frown as she scolds both him, her son, and the photographer, "Have you boys been smoking weed in here?!"

Laughter fills the room then and despite the small plea from their surrogate mother to again quit smoking both nicotine and weed, they all fall into easy habits of entertaining each other. It was just like being back at the Healy Household back in the day. Denise mothering them and asking if they'd eaten, followed by random anecdotes, and tons of laughter.

That is only interrupted when Denise's nosy self sees a familiar phone lighting up with a picture of what she hopes will be her gorgeous daughter in law. So she announces, "Matt, your phone is ringing," from the other side of the room and holds up the screen so he can see it is you that is calling.

Matty practically runs for the phone, making everyone laugh. Ross teasing loudly, "Absolutely whipped!"

"Damn right," Matty replies proudly as he gets a hold of his phone, and then leaves to the adjacent bathroom to answer. "Baby, hey!" He greets you loud and excitedly.

You can hear the smile on his voice, and it fully melts your heart. "Hiya Matty, how's your day been?"

"Can't lie baby it's not been great, but I feel a lot better now. Especially because now I get to hear your voice." He wishes he could say see your face, but you have oddly not facetimed him this time; though, he is not complaining at all.

He hears you cooing and his cheeks burn at the sound, "You're so cute, I missed you lots today."

"Never more than I miss you," He is quick to refute because hearing you through the phone is definitely making the void in his chest grow. He wants you there with him so badly and very selfishly.

"I beg to differ," You quip back. Matty hums funnily and it makes you giggle as he continues, "Let's agree to disagree because we'll be at it all night, how was your day baby?"

"Really good thanks, it was nice being all dressed up for it. The after party carpet is stunning this year, like a royal blue." And his face lights up when you add, "I felt like a bit of a princess in my dress."

He smiles when hearing that, and he's so excited to get the breath knocked out from his chest at the sight of you, "I'm sure you'll look like one. I can't wait to see you in it." But knowing you won't give him more details on your attire for tomorrow, he instead asks, "What are you up to now?"

"I'm in a taxi heading back to the hotel to watch SNL," You explain, but before he can ask why you're going back on your own, you continue, "Amelia's gone out with a few of the crew for some drinks but I wanted to get back, got scared I was gonna miss the start of it."

He isn't fond of you missing out on some fun to watch a shit comedy show that will only have them on for a total of eight minutes. So he lets you know just that, "Baby you should go out. It's American drivel, and you've heard the songs a hundred times before."

"I'm watching it Matty, I'm not missing seeing you on TV." You say seriously, but Matty can hear your smile as he listens to you all but coo, "It's not every day you get to see your boyfriend on TV." The tone you use to say that makes him chuckle lightly.

"That's cute but I know you're watching for Ross," Matty jokes and he's delighted when he hears your snort of laughter followed quickly by a giggle.

You sigh happily, "You know me so well." And in your head, you can clearly see him shrugging with a smug look on his face when he replies, "I try."

"Yeah, I know you do." You grin, your tongue swiping over your top lip as if to try and hide just how much this man makes you smile and feel all gooey inside. 

Just as you're realising you have absolutely no need to keep your smile to yourself, your call is unfortunately interrupted by another knock on the greenroom door. Matty opens the bathroom door and stands in the doorway to keep in check with what's happening. You hear the commotion on Matty's end of the phone, somebody scrambling to let someone in, and once they do, you don't quite hear what's said now the room has gone quiet but from the mere reaction once the chatter starts again, it's easy to tell they were just called to set.

Matty sighs looking at his watch seeing that it's now 11:46pm and he's just beyond gutted he won't get a chance to speak to you for longer. He's disappointed to say the least and you can tell in his tone when he says, "They're calling us to go baby, I'm sorry." Matty takes a seat on the leather sofa quickly, using his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear so he can multi-task and put his shoes on as you finish up your conversation. 

"Why are you sorry?" You laugh a little, "You should be excited. In fact, you best be excited because I don't want to see you half-hearting it on TV, Matty."

"You really are my toughest critic." Matty says as the room starts buzzing around him with everyone getting their stuff together. But even as he has his shoes on ready to go, he makes no effort to move.

The singer stays seated, nodding and holding his finger up to people trying to make him get a move on, but he's not shortening the already limited time he has talking to you for the sake of an extra minute of a producer telling him what to do. And he's glad he didn't just end the call because he gets to hear your giggle through the phone and he can picture you nodding in your taxi as you say, "Well of course, I can't have you ruining my reputation... I need America to be swooning at my boyfriend's stunning voice."

"Don't forget my life changing good looks." Matty can't help but sarcastically add.

"Oh, I could never." Your boyfriend can tell that you're grinning as you say that, but you do get a touch serious when you continue, "Have the best time okay, and I'll be watching every minute, so I want you to know that I'm there with you every second of the way."

"Thank you, needed that... and to hear your voice again before doing this." Matty's sure his heart just grew in size at your words. He's positively obsessed with you, and he can't wait for the night to be over so he can be another day closer to having you back by his side.

"Miss you so much baby." Your boyfriend tells you and he once again gets the urge to just let those three words slip from his lips.

Needless to say, you're in the exact same predicament, wanting so much to express your love for him but stopping yourself is almost painful. "I miss you too baby..." Is what you settle for, but Matty can hear exactly what you mean when you softly whisper, "Obsessed with you." like it pains you to not say what you actually wish to.

A smile lights up your boyfriend's face hearing those words though, and he gently repeats them back to you, "Obsessed with you too."

You hear your boyfriend's name get called then, and a quick, "I'm coming." falling from his lips, so you know it's really time for him to go. So you manage to quickly add, "Dance for me baby."

"Promise," Matty grins, "I'll call you after the show."

"Can't wait." You smile, and just as you're both about to bid each other farewell, another question falls from your lips, almost in a panic, "Wait, you didn't slick your hair back, did you?"

Your boyfriend lets out a loud laugh at that, knowing by now just how important his hair is to you. But instead of answering you, he leaves you with, "Guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Almost offended he won't tell you, you're about to scold him, "Matty." but he doesn't leave you the chance to. "Bye baby." Matty giggles, and he only puts the phone down once he hears you laugh again and say your own, "Byeeee."

When everyone makes it to set, the producer gives everyone another overview of how the night will go and the schedule that needs to be stuck to. The band can't help but be thankful that they aren't doing the sketches too because it means a much simpler night for them, with only two songs to play, one at 20 mins into the show and the other at 40 minutes.

The show begins without a hitch, Jenna Ortega completing her monologue without any hiccups and it lands well with the audience so Matty thinks that the writers should be proud of themselves for doing their job correctly. The sketches also seem to go okay and before he even knows it, Matty is being ushered onto the stage to take their places and get their instruments all ready.

He can feel the audience watching wait for the adverts to finish so they can begin and he gears himself up as he would before every show. A few playful words with the other boys, a few bounces on the spot and Matty's ready and in the right zone to entertain. He has to deliver for you, put on a show for you that will make you want to call him as soon as he can get back to his phone.

Thinking about your reaction makes him feel goofy and playful, like he wants to dance enough that he'll have you giggling for an hour about it on FaceTime. Matty can't help but smile at the mere thought of seeing and hearing you so happy, so to please only you that little bit more he twists a few strands of his hair around his finger so his curls really are on show for you, and he hopes you'll be happy with the result.

Before he can do anything else, the runners all start scrambling back behind the camera, the producers ensuring Jenna is in the correct spot to introduce them and the lights are lowered as he and the band take their position. There's the ten second countdown back from the adverts and then after hearing the actress say, "Ladies and gentlemen, The 1975." the song begins.

The familiar guitar riff fills the room, and the singer falls into his performance easily. The joy the music fills him with shows on his face and he can feel that the energy lifts in the room, and he feels lighter when he sees the smiles on people's faces as he looks around the small audience in front of him.

He can see fans in their merch, ones he recognises and new faces he doesn't but most of all he's just feeling the music and trying to be as flamboyant and as playful as possible as you are still in the forefront of his mind. He's playful as he sings, changing his voice to make this performance that little bit different from the other times he's sang I'm In Love With You on the tours, and he's doing it because you're all he has in mind. How can Matty not be happy and dance around whilst he sings a song about being in love when he knows the woman he's madly in love with is watching?

When the song reaches the first chorus Matty can't help but notice movement in the top right hand corner of the room, and he almost frowns seeing what the open door reveals. The singer looks to the top row of the seats facing them, and sees his Mum and her husband wondering in late but they are dancing as he sings the song which almost makes him chuckle. They stay where they are though and make no effort to find their seat and Matty can't think why but he tries to pay less attention to them and focus on performing.

Playful is the only way the singer could describe how he's performing, and ultimately feeling in this moment. He's putting on his show for you, as promised and he hopes you're loving every second as he's well aware how much him performing affects you and makes you happy. And there's nothing more that Matty ever wants to do than be the cause of your happiness.

Just thinking about your reaction when he comes to LA to surprise you in the morning, he absolutely cannot wait for. He's dying to feel you in his arms again, to feel your kisses on his skin, the thought absolutely electrifies him. This hour of his life can't go quick enough, and as soon as he's performed Oh Caroline later he's running back to the green room to grab his shit and then he'll be on the plane before he knows it. And considering the singer hates flying, he's never been so excited to fly across a country in his life.

The top right corner of the room catches the singer's eye again just as the door opens again revealing Mark stepping into the room. Matty has to hold back a frown seeing his security guard walk into the room considering he was meant to be on the toilet back at the hotel. Still confused, he lets his eyes linger on his Mum now saying a quick hello to Mark, but it's when the singer notices that his security is holding the door open for someone. And when that someone walks in, Matty almost stops breathing.

You are the person that walks out through the door, you're there in your jeans and your Drive Like I Do hoodie, tote bag filled to the brim on your shoulder and you all but throw it to the floor, your bright eyes never leaving the band you start singing along to the second chorus. Matty can't help the giggle that falls from his lips as he sings, and he has to bat away the tears that threaten to spring to his eyes.

His heart is thundering seeing that it's really you there in front of him, singing the words to his own song back to him. You're here, in New York, when you should be thousands of miles away. You're here, dancing with his Mum, supporting him, smiling and blowing kisses at him.

Matty's heart can't take much more, so he just leaves it all in his performance, and knowing the bridge (your favourite bit of the song) is about to come up, Matty decides to push himself. The one thing the producers told him was no swearing in the song, which considering the show airs after 12am seems really fucking pathetic but thankfully Matty remembers and flicks his face away from the microphone as the words he usually sing start to come out.

His eyes focus on you, giggling at the way his curls land on his face, but Matty can't stop himself from doing what he's about to. As he sings, "It's like one, two, yeah. I'm in love with you." on the you Matty changes to falsetto and at the same time he points up to the love of his life who is dancing along and singing the lyrics right back at him.

The singer sees you grinning and you hug yourself for a second, your hand going over your heart before you lift that hand to your lips and blow a kiss down to him. It's needless to say the tingles Matty can feel throughout his body at that moment is nothing to do with the adrenaline rush of singing live. It's all you, and all of the emotions you evoke in his body waking back up now you're in front of him again making him feel like he's floating on air.

The rest of the song goes by in a blur, him falling in step with Adam and Ross as they simultaneously sway side to side to the beat of the song. At one point he turns around to George to keep in time with the music but Matty only does that so the cameras can't see just how stupidly big his smile has got. Making eye contact with his best friend doesn't even ground him again though because George has a smile on his face too, along with a knowing grin.

When Matty raises his eyebrows slightly, the drummer easily picks up on the silent question of, You knew she was coming? And from the the casual little shrug and smile from the drummer, the singer knows his best friend well enough to hear the smug, Of course I fucking did. Deciding that he would deal with his best mate's little betrayal later, Matty just shakes his head faking disapproval and turns himself back around towards the cameras and audience, but his gaze can't help but find its way up to you once more as the outro wraps up.

The singer tries to hold himself together, and not seem jittery or eager to leave the stage as he takes in the audience's applause and he manages to tear his eyes from you to smile and graciously accept the cheers for his band. The 5 seconds in which he takes a short bow seems to drag on for half a lifetime when all he wants to do is rid himself of his guitar and wrap his arms around you, but the calm and collected facade changes as soon as he hears, "And we're off air."

Turning quickly to put his guitar down, Matty gives a quick thumbs up to Polly and Jamie before nodding to the rest of the band. But before they can even smile back at him, Matty turns and gives the audience another wave before he jogs off stage towards the double fire exit door knowing he'd find his way to you. And the singer is certain that this is the only time that he's ever been thankful that Americans have adverts every five minutes because he's never moved faster in his life.

And suddenly he's so grateful he's been stuck in this studio for a week, because he knows these corridors like the back of his hand at this point. Yes, he's aware he must look like a mad man, running through the halls in a suit like he's a btec James Bond, but nothing and no one will keep him from finding you in the next minute.

Your boyfriend is so glad that you seem to be on the same wavelength as him because when Matty turns his next corner, he sees you exit from the door he saw you enter when he was on stage. He genuinely thinks his heart skips a beat when your eyes meet, never ever have you looked so angelic than right now.

Despite just being in mundane clothes, you look like you're absolutely glowing. The smile on your gorgeous face is huge and the way you start sprinting towards him is enough confirmation that you're just as down bad for him as he is of you. And the way you clash together like bullets finally hitting their intended targets takes the breath from you both, but the momentum and adrenaline has Matty having to pick you up to spin you so you can both slow down.

There's a small giggle that slips from your lips as your arms tighten around Matty's neck which almost has the man's knees giving out, he's missed the sound of that laugh in his ear so very much. His hold around your waist only tightens as he slows his spinning as you press excited kisses to his neck as you continue to hug him until your feet hit the floor again.

It's almost like Matty's in a daze when he releases you just enough so you can each pull back and see each other's faces properly. He can see the shine in your eyes much like you can see the same in his when he cups both sides of your face and asks in utter shock and disbelief, "What are you doing here?!"

The smile that brightens your stunning face even more has Matty's heart almost bursting from his chest. Your hand comes to rest over one of his that covers your cheek as you say, "I told you, I couldn't miss this."

"Baby." Matty sighs in joy, and he doesn't have it in him to stop himself from quickly pressing his lips to yours. The peck is only short because he can't stop himself from saying, "I can't believe you're here."

You giggle again at that, your own heart beating out of your chest entirely at the fact you're back in the arms of the man you love. Deciding you need to steal another peck from those pretty lips of his, you quickly do so before you explain, "I was meant to be here so much earlier but the flight got delayed."

You trap Matty into another crushing hug when you as you elaborate, "Was supposed to be at the meal earlier, but clearly it wasn't meant to be."

As gutting as that news is, Matty can't bring himself to care that the initial plans for the day didn't go as planned. He believes that showing up how you just did made the surprise so much better because he had absolutely no inkling that you'd planned this. Not when you have the biggest gig of your life in less than 24 hours... Wait. 

"But what about the dress rehearsal?" Matty starts to panic, pulling back from the hug so he can look at your face as he realises what you're putting at risk by being here in front of him, "Baby, what about the Oscars?"

"Dress rehearsal was this morning," You put his mind at ease and explain, "It's all done and there was nothing to do for the rest of the day or tomorrow until we have to watch the awards in the evening." You chuckle as you tell him, "I've been trying to get on a flight all afternoon."

"I can't believe you've flown to New York for this shit show when it's the biggest day of your life tomorrow." Matty can't help but run a hand through his hair, his other one still on your waist as he can't let you go at all. "God baby, you're so perfect but so silly at the same time."

Shrugging as you laugh and nod, accepting the truth as it slips from his lips but you have no regrets. Being back in his arms is a dream come true. "I just couldn't miss this." You tell him as you bury your head into his neck again, hugging him tightly. You're sure at this point you could get some sort of high just from inhaling his aftershave, it might be your favourite scent ever. Squeezing him tightly you admit, "And I missed you so much."

"I missed you more," Matty promises as he kisses the side of your head as he hugs you back.

If there was any doubt in either of your minds that you were each other's soulmates, this would have confirmed it. This moment of just utter euphoria from being back in each other's arms, but an overwhelming sense of peace washes through you also. You imagine this is the closest you'll get to heaven on earth, and you're so lucky you've found it.

Pulling back from the hug, you look into those gorgeous brown eyes as you say, "Impossi-" but your words are taken from you when your boyfriend's lips find your own again. This time it's not rushed, if anything, it's entirely savoured. Matty gently rests his index finger under your chin and tilts your head up slightly so he has you exactly where he wants you and you're happy to give in completely.

He kisses you like he can't get enough, his hold so tight like you might disappear and you're certain you fall even further in love with him in this moment. Matty's hums against your lips as you let your hand slide up into the back of his curly hair. You can't help but grab ahold of his tie with your other hand to keep him from going anywhere. Something that makes Matty smile into the kiss and subsequently you do as well but you don't let him get away. Your lips find each other over and over, both releasing little pleased hums here and there just to further show how much you love the sensation.

You've missed this. You've missed how at home you feel in his arms, and how his kisses make you feel like the world has ignited around you. The way your heart yearns to be close to his says it all, you couldn't be apart for a week without needing to experience him again.

Your kiss turns into a few longer ones, which eventually shifts to the both of you giggling as you steal pecks from one another. Eventually your forehead rests against his and your gorgeous boyfriend gives you a soft Eskimo kiss which makes your heart stutter. A gentle giggle leaves your lips, you don't even hesitate with what you're about to declare, "I-"

"Matty!" A yell from down the corridor briefly interrupts the moment, and you don't have to look to know it's George.

This may be the first and only time you marginally dislike George Daniel for stealing the moment you were about to tell Matty that you love him. Equally though, when it happens you want it to be grander than in a random back corridor in a studio. But emotions are getting the better of you, and you feel it so so deeply now, you don't want to keep it to yourself for much longer.

Your boyfriend turns towards his best mate and hugs you into his chest as the both of you look down the corridor. The gentle giant waves at you with a smile on his lips but doesn't come any closer, instead he just tells Matty, "They need us to go over something really quickly in the green room."

"Give me two minutes G." Your boyfriend says as he holds you that bit tighter.

George nods, and then his eyes move to you and his smile gets that bit bigger as he says, "Good to see you Y/N/N."

"And you George." You grin, the smile you share is a knowing one, because he was the one you told first that you were making the trip over. 

The drummer turns on his heel, briefly nodding to Matty in confirmation of those two minutes he gave him. And your boyfriend certainly makes the most of those two minutes. Arms wrap tighter around your waist and before you even realise you're hoisted into the air and span around which makes a loud giggle fall from your lips, and the joy that's on Matty's face has you spellbound. Stealing a few more kisses from the curly haired brunette, you don't want to let him go just yet so you make the most of every second.

When your feet return to the ground, you tell Matty that you're going to make the most of being at SNL and head into the studio again to finish watching the sketches with Denise and Lincoln. Matty nods, silently understanding that you don't want to feel in the way by going back to the green room with him when there's going to be a meeting of sorts, and that you may as well make the most of being here by seeing the show.

But your boyfriend has to ask, "How long has my Mum known?"

"Bless your Mum has been sorting everything out for me," You chuckle, "I told George but when he said that your Mum was coming I started liaising with her so you didn't get suspicious of George."

Matty pulls a face which screams betrayal as he asks you, "Who else has been hiding things from me? George, me Mum...You're all sneaky."

"Mark wasn't on the shitter," You laugh before divulging, "He was getting me from the airport." Overhearing that conversation in the car made you giggle, it was an effort not to tell him earlier when you were on the phone faking you were on the way back to your hotel in a taxi. You're just glad the roads here are as busy as the ones in LA so the background noise didn't give you away.

Matty scoffs at the news and shakes his head, "I'm surrounded by snakes." You just hum and nod before you lean in to kiss him once more. And you're certain your two minutes have long since passed when you eventually bid each other a brief goodbye and you head back into the studio as silently as you can.

The show seemed to pass by in a flash, the cringe of the sketches weren't as bad as when you were in the room watching them compared to when watching on TV so you found yourself having fun. But even more so when you got to dance with Denise again when the band came back out and performed Oh Caroline.

The gorgeous song was over before you knew it and you knew that there were only a few more sketches before the end of the show, so you were making the most of them until someone familiar took the free seat beside you. Before you can even congratulate him on a good show he's already cupped your face and leant in to kiss you cheek which just makes it so your smile is a permanent fixture upon your face. Matty scoots his chair as close to yours as humanly possible and he crosses his legs as he takes your hand and intertwines your fingers.

The sketches aren't as captivating as the way Matty's thumb strokes the back of your hand, you just end up watching him. You've missed the tiny things about him, like how he bounces his foot slightly as he watches the show, his small tell that he's not quite as comfortable as he makes out to be. You've missed the way he twists that front curl around his finger again absentmindedly as the world passes him by. You've missed everything about the gorgeous man beside you, but mostly, the overwhelming feeling of home he brings you. You lean your head down on his shoulder and smile brightly as you take a deep breath. There's no place you'd rather be than by this man's side, and you squeeze his hand a little to try and somehow silently convey that.

Feeling a gentle kiss being placed on top of your head adds to it even more, and when he leans his head down against yours you hear Matty whisper, just loud enough for you to hear over the sketch, "I'm so glad you're here."

Your heart flutters at that but even more so when he picks up your adjoined hands and kisses the back of yours. God, you love him so much. You both happy lose yourselves in each other's presence as you watch possibly the only decent sketch on this programme. The Weekend Update has both you and Matty in stitches laughing and you find that the laughter lingers even when they go into an advert break for the millionth time this evening.

A yawn is the reason your laughter stops which Matty pouts at and gently smiles, "You tired Baby?"

Nodding in confirmation, you also decide to tell him, "I'm gonna have to get the earliest flight in the morning. I need to be back in LA at the earliest opportunity, just to ease my mind." Because God only knows how you've thought about every way in which you might not get back to LA on time. But you're looking on the positive side, you're going to be fine and you'll get back with plenty of time to spare.

"I got you covered Baby," Matty grins, and he gives your hand another squeeze, "I was flying out right after this anyway."

Mark quickly taps your boyfriend on your shoulder to tell him he's needed back on set for the closing part of the show and you receive the loveliest kiss on the cheek before your boyfriend heads backstage. Five minutes later you're happily whooping and cheering for your favourite band as everyone is on set closing up the show.

And as soon as wrap is called, Denise and Lincoln show you the way back towards the lads greenroom and you're greeted with big smiles by everyone. Polly hugs you first, followed by Adam, Jamie, and George. But as Matty attempts to give you another hug, Ross swoops in and hugs you, taking you off your feet as he spins you around a little. He as you laughing in his arms as you hug him back, but the sheer surprise of it has you dizzy once your feet return to the ground.

Giggling, you tell him, "Missed you guys." And you look around them with nothing but love in your heart. They truly feel like a second family even after such a short amount of time. You can't believe that you first met these people just a handful of months ago, and now they aren't just your favourite musicians, they are actually your friends. And one is your boyfriend... You truly can't believe your luck.

"Never more than we miss you." Ross hugs you into his chest and you giggle at that.

Even more so when you see Matty is now perching on the arm of the settee and he's watching you and the bassist like a hawk, knowing his mate is trying to keep you all to himself to get under his skin. You feed into it though by squeezing Ross' waist tighter as you counter, "You'd be surprised, I've had years of longing for you all don't forget."

"Don't we know it." Matty chuckles and the lads and Denise laugh.

But Ross briefly lets you go so he can look down at you and he holds your shoulders as he grins, "And we all know I was your favourite."

Your smile matches his as you all but giggle, "Only because Matty was with Flo at the time." The room erupts in laughter then and the bassist quickly leans down and kisses your cheek before you go and take the seat beside where Matty is perching. Your boyfriend's own smile lingers for a while before he slides himself down into your lap and cuddles himself against you.

Both of you being entirely soppy, resting your head against each other, your arm moving over his waist as he presses his kisses to your temple, then cheek, then your lips. And you savour them all, stealing another kiss from those pillowy lips of his until you pull away feeling a little self conscious as there are way too many eyes in this room.

It's all a bit chaotic by the time everyone packs their stuff up. And by the time you're all ready to leave the room it's close to 2:30am. Denise and Lincoln wished you well before heading back to their hotel about 45 minutes ago and you're now ready to do the same, feeling completely exhausted after a long day. Matty smiles at you when you release a tired yawn, and he throws his arm around your shoulder to pull you into his body as he begins to drag his suitcase along with you towards the green room door. Everyone is loitering with their cases though so the both of you pause, waiting for the others to get their shit together.

It seems that everyone around you is so manic, that your quiet conversation goes relatively unheard. Matty turns towards you and smiles, "Let's go to the airport."

"What?" Your eyes go a little wide, "Like right now?"

"Right now." Matty nods with a grin. You shake your head a little, mostly confused because, "There aren't any planes to LA at this time, Matty."

"There are," He chuckles, "If you have a private one, and thankfully I have a friend who's not using his right now."

Your jaw falls open, and Matty can't help but glance at those pretty lips of yours. It takes everything in him not to kiss them. "Matty, we can't." You shake your head. No way can you impose like that. Taking a private jet just to benefit yourself, it's something from a story, not something you can actually do.

"We can and we are doing," Your boyfriend nods and smiles. And you know by the way he's looking at you that he's not taking no for an answer. You smile sweetly at him. Afterwards, you notice his eyes dart around the room, "Come on, where's your case?"

"Didn't bring a case." You shake your head, just patting the tote that's on your shoulder. "Didn't think there'd be much point when we haven't seen each other in over a week."

A cheeky knowing smirk tugs at your lips as you whisper, "Pyjamas wouldn't be needed, would they?" Matty's eyes darken a little at that, looking at you like he could devour you at any given second now. But he just lets his arm slip around your waist, "Oh, I'm going to be such a bad friend."

"What?" You frown, asking curiously, "Why?" Before Matty can respond, the room gets loud again as everyone starts moving into the hallway. Shouts about an afterparty in a different hotel are mentioned, everyone shouting who's coming and who's driving with who takes your attention as you turn to face the door again.

But Matty wraps his arms around your waist from behind you, pulling you back into his chest. Your heart thuds at the feeling but what makes it skip a beat is when you feel his smirk against your ear as he whispers, "I'm going to shag you on the plane."

~*~*~*~ Oscars Day ~*~*~*~

You had gone to a big hotel suite to get ready for the Oscars Vanity Fair After Party with Amelia, watching the red carpet as you got your makeup and hair done. It felt so odd to be pampered while feeling so incredibly nervous inside, because the drag of the straightener along your hair kept making your eyelids flutter shut, but your stomach kept doing somersaults and making you nauseous.

It kept making you nostalgic to look to your side and see Amelia getting ready next to you, sipping a Diet Coke as you both watched the red carpet like you have been doing together for years. This time though you're both being glammed up as you do so, about to meet those in attendance, this time just on the other carpet, maybe next year you'll be lucky enough to do the preshow one.

Thankfully you did sleep on the plane back to LA, so your make up artist didn't tell you off for bags under your eyes. And considering you spent the night and day beside Matty, you felt so well rested and happy that up until getting here you weren't too nervous. But now the clock is counting down and the anxiousness has crept back in.

It takes the two hours of the red carpet and a little into the ceremony for you and Amelia to be fully ready and prepared for the night. Once you're ready to be taken over to the Vanity Fair carpet, you have just under half an hour going around the massive hotel suite to take loads of pictures while you listen to the important stuff happening in the background in case any new questions could be asked to your guests on the carpet.

When you step out of the suite, the door closing behind you kick-starts a new round of nerves, making you grab your best friend's hand tightly. Amelia looks at you and you screech in unison as you head to the lifts. You have no idea how you're gonna keep from shaking like a wet dog on the actual carpet, but you hope that you manage to settle in time.

When the lift doors open at the lobby, you realise you had completely forgotten about a certain someone waiting for you there. Matty's eyes are gleaming when they catch you walking his way. He can't help but think that you look so fucking unreal, and his hand comes over his chest as if clutching it would stop it from beating erratically.

Your boyfriend briefly allows himself to look at Amelia, seeing that she's looking lovely in a sleek black dress with a curved neckline trailing up her shoulder to cover one of her arms. But regardless of your best friend's beauty, Matty is absolutely spellbound by yours.

You're walking towards him in a sparkly rouge v-neck dress which accentuates all of your stunning features. The neckline shows off your boobs in the most drool worthy way, it takes effort for Matty's eyes not to linger for too long. Not to mention the way you just look like a Disney princess, looking as gorgeous as ever, it's almost otherworldly. Even your skin has a sparkle to it.

"Oh my..." You hear him mutter as you finally reach him, but his arm snakes around your waist and pulls you in to kiss you. "Lipstick!" You manage to mumble against his lips, and when he pulls back, you laugh as you wipe the remnants of mauve off his lips.

Matty doesn't let go of you, nor stop giving you compliments the whole way to the venue. He's clutching you so tightly, you're blushing the entire time. Amelia keeps giggling and pointing out how down bad he is for you, to which he always proudly replies, "Fuck yes, I am."

When you get to the venue it's not long before showtime, so you leave the little backstage dressing room Vanity Fair gave you fairly quickly, but it feels almost painful to leave Matty behind. Before leaving though, you give your boyfriend a kiss (which you had been refusing all the way there for the sake of your lipstick), and he promises he will be all dressed up and ready for you by the time you're back.

You're a little jealous he can stay in his comfies for a bit longer than you, but the show must go on. So with lots of words of encouragement, Matty bids both you and your best friend good luck and goodbye before you head over to the corner of the iconic carpet Vanity Fair has set up for you.

You're so nervous seeing all the new faces walk past and up to you, but it's also just so much fun seeing familiar faces like Pedro Pascal and Sabrina Carpenter. There is a bit of pressure on you and your best friend since these interviews are happening on a TikTok live, but having her doing it with you makes it so much easier. You are just bouncing off each other, asking random and funny questions to throw your guests off and get good comedic moments.

Your faces light up when you and Amelia stop your chat once you see Paul Mescal from afar bowing to the two of you. You wave him over eagerly and he excuses his way over to you, grabbing the mic off a staff member helping your production, and stopping right in front of you.

Amelia chuckles, immediately pointing out Paul's actions, "I saw you bowing to us."

"From up there," Paul snorts at himself. You put on your best smirk and act smug as you reply, "Yeah, and we thought: thank you."

"You're welcome." Says the gorgeous man. He certainly looks the part of the heartthrob tonight. The black trousers with the white blazer and red flower pinned to his lapel. Since the ceremony has finished though he's swapped the shirt and bow tie for a white vest, making for a more casual look, but still very dashing.

Amelia bows to him as she says, "My king." You laugh to yourself and follow Amelia's bow, and just about you're standing back straight, Paul reciprocates with another bow, "My queens." You truly don't know how the both of you fight that flustered blush from your faces. Yeah, you may be taken, but you're only human.

"So what mood are you in? Are you in a party mood?" Amelia asks Paul, going straight back into interviewer mode. Paul thinks about his answer for a second, "I'm in a... Yeah, I think I'm in a party mood."

Amelia quirks, "Yeah?" And you follow with a silly question that you thought would be interesting for tonight, "Have you ever danced on a table?" Paul shakes his head but firmly states, "I'm gonna do that tonight." You and your best friend approve in unison, "Yeah!"

"I'm gonna dance on a table tonight."

Amelia is satisfied with Paul's decision so she continues onto another question, "Have you ever been-" But Paul cuts her inquiry short to put forward one of his own, "Are there any tables in there?"

You shrug and honestly say, "Dunno, we've never been." Your bluntness makes you all snort at the same time, enjoying your novelty in these types of events all together.

Amelia waves it off, like she's got the situation under control and swiftly says, "We'll get a table for you." Mimicking talking to someone on some earbud intercom, you say, "Excuse me, can we please get a table for Paul Mescal to dance on?"

Paul finds himself amused at you two, playing onto your joke with a cheeky grin, "Quick. Pronto." You click your tongue, "We've got you covered, Paul."

"You're here with your whole family right?" Amelia inquires after you saw his little sister Nell going in earlier. Paul nods, turning to look ahead at the carpet, "Yeah, I sent them in. They're in at the party and I'm waiting for-"

Amelia cuts in, playing into his presence with you rather than with his family, "And you had to come chat to us, obviously." He plays into it naturally, and it makes you smile, "I was like, I've got to do something really important. I've gotta chat to Amelia and Y/N."

You hum as you nod, "Yeah, it's really, really important." Amelia genuinely replies with, "We actually love chatting to you every time." And you love seeing Paul brighten up and reciprocate, "I love chatting to yous!"

"It's great," You grin.

Amelia, with her sudden changes of conversation as per usual, asks, "Do you identify as a heartthrob?"

"Do I?" Paul chuckles at the complete turn of direction in the chat, "Ermmmm... No, I don't identify as a heartthrob." You gasp, "You don't?" Amelia states quickly, "Well, we think you are."

"That's very nice of you to say," Paul replies rather shyly. And just for his sake, knowing that it will send him back into his shell if you two keep poking on his heartthrob states, Amelia goes, "Anyway, you've gotta go."

You have to bite your tongue not to burst out laughing. Even more so when Paul laughs but nods in agreement, "I've gotta go." You add to the joke, "You've reeeally gotta go."

"You're cool," Paul says wholeheartedly. You and your best friend quickly say the same back to him, because you truly believe it and he's one of your favourites, "You're cool."

Paul bids you farewell, "See ya!"

"Bye!" You wave with a big smile. Amelia quips before the Irish lad can leave, "I'll see you on the dancefloor."

"See you on the dancefloor," Paul says, and goes back to your early joke by adding, "On a table." You laugh, nodding in confirmation, "On a table, yup."

It's hard to wipe the smile that breaks on your face after that chat. Paul is one of the people you adore and you're so grateful to have met through your work, you love the friendship he has with you and Amelia, and it is a plus that he is such great friends with your boyfriend.

The thought of Matty makes you smile harder, becoming internally giddy at the prospect of finishing this interview section and finally getting to enjoy such a monumental night with the man that keeps your heart beating out of your chest.

Matty has been watching the interview on TikTok with a grin on his face and pride swelling his chest in the little backstage room you had been getting ready in earlier. Your boyfriend had been enjoying every bit of the interviews and laughing to himself like a fool, swooning over how beautiful you look, how much he loves seeing you smile and laugh, and just so incredibly ecstatic that you have gotten to this place in your career. He believes you deserve the entire universe, and he is so glad that you and Amelia are both getting the recognition you have always deserved.

Your boyfriend can see how happy you are at the moment, but it is perhaps just how bright your smile is that gives the next person to walk up to you the courage to be so upfront, and it makes Matty grow irate in a matter of seconds.

"Oh camera!" You point out in a gasp when an actor in a dark grey suit walks up to you, taking a disposable film camera from his pocket and turning it on. Both of you recognise the actor immediately. He's not an A-lister by any means but you've seen him in a few films so you're excited to meet someone new to bounce off. But almost immediately you know exactly what sort of man this one will turn out to be.

You hear his low hum against the mic before he says, "Yeah, pose for me."

Amelia and you pose for the camera, giving your best smiles and the flash blinds you slightly so you faintly see the lad pocketing it before properly grabbing the mic again. A smirk grows on the lad's face as he points out, "Taking pictures of the best moments tonight."

You want to giggle, and can't miss the chance to tease, "Oh, so we're a highlight then?" 

If he'd have just agreed with you and looked at your both genuinely as he said it, you may have found this interview very different. But instead, you absolutely don't miss the way that his eyes linger way too long on your breasts before his eyes finally reach yours. Accompanied by a wink which is aimed directly at you, he replies, "You definitely are, love."

From your dressing room, that look and comment earns Matty's first scoff of the night, and though he shouldn't, he hates the fact that you look a little flustered as you reply with a shy, "Oh, okay."

But what the camera isn't showing is that you're not flustered because this man is flirting with you. You're flustered because you feel uncomfortable being objectified so openly like that, and on camera too. Not to mention, you can keep spotting telltale signs that the actor in front of you is extremely drunk.

Before Amelia can come up with a way to save you, the lad (very stupidly if you were to ask Matty) questions, "What are yous doing?"

One of your brow quirks at the nature of the question, before you can properly think about it, you just repeat his question almost mockingly, "What are we doing?" Amelia almost instantly goes, "Interviewing you."

The actor nods, "Right." swaying slightly on his feet. You almost want to huff because he is giving you nothing, so you go ahead and fire him a bunch of questions hoping to wrap this interview soon, "So what are you doing in there? Where are you going? Dancefloor, crying in the bathroom...?"

But you're not counting on him continuing with his heavy flirting. He takes a step towards you, grabbing your hand and squeezing it as he leans in a little to smoulder at you, "I'm going wherever you're going."

Whiskey. Whiskey is what this man in front of you has been drinking, and you know because it's all you can smell on his breath. It takes an extraordinary amount of effort not to gag in front of him or live on the show. You try to turn him down without being so obvious, while also trying to keep up with your usual awkwardly flirty persona. You squeeze his hand before gently slipping it free so you can ask, wide eyed, "Oh, so you're dancing?"

The man's eyes wonder to your chest again and you feel a little ill as you can't help the sensation of being vulnerable. Almost like you can't stop this from happening without seeming like an absolute cow in front of millions online. The last thing you want to cause is a scene, especially at an event like this. "If you save me a few dances, I will definitely join you," The smirk that tugs further on the corners of his lips makes you squirm in your place.

You should be glad to have not been a witness to Matty's second scoff of the night which was followed by an eye roll, and a hissed, "Silly prick."

You dismiss the actor gently and subtly again, "We'll see how the dancefloor looks when we go in." But he doesn't relent in the slightest, "Oh I bet you look good on the dancefloor."

It makes you chuckle sarcastically, and you're so glad you can roll your eyes at his antics this time, "Nice pun, Turner."

Elbowing you softly, Amelia reminds you to try to be merry and flirt, so to your boyfriend's and your own dismay, you smirk as you flick your hair and quip back, "I do actually look good on the dancefloor." You swear the actor's voice drops an octave when he says, "Can't wait to see that up close." and you don't miss the way his eyes fall to your body again and lingers before meeting your eyes again. 

Hating that you're on a livestream and can't give Amelia a 'help me' glance is killing you, so you very awkwardly turn to your best friend and fully avoid the lad getting any ideas in his head by changing your own plans, "Think we're just gonna have some burgers actually."

"No dancing?" The actor tries again, smirk just glued to his face. Matty is fuming, wanting nothing more than to reach into the screen and slap that smirk off the guys face. He really isn't enjoying the fact that he won't stop staring at you, nor flirting with you. Not only that, but he also thinks the lad is a massive dickhead for fully ignoring Amelia next to you.

You shrug, languidly making eye contact again, "Depends who asks." He puffs his chest out as he says, "I'm asking."

Matty clutches his phone in a white knuckle grip.

Amelia quips into the conversation for what feels like the first time, "Which one of us are you asking?" But the actor doesn't even spare her a word, just intensely staring at you with fuck-me eyes that threaten to give you a bad case of the shivers.

Amelia shifts uncomfortably in her place, chuckling awkwardly before stating, "This might get a bit messy," knowing that your boyfriend is watching. Your very jealous and angry boyfriend who is very much tempted on going out to the carpet and decking the pretentious prick.

That need to break the actor's nose just peaks when he replies, "Hopefully."

You're at a loss for words, your mouth opening in shock. Amelia can only mutter a choked, "That's-" which gets lost in the wind for she has no clue what to actually say.

Luckily, the lad starts laughing loudly at your reactions, breaking the sudden awkward tension created and urging you to laugh with him just to leave the interview on a good spirited note. Amelia clears her throat and implicitly tells the lad it's time for him to go, "We saw some of your mates get in already, so we won't steal you any longer."

He gets the hint, but not with joy. His smirk falters and his shoulders fall, "Ah bummer." You give him the fakest smile as you say, "We'll see you inside." But it almost crumbles when he winks again and replies, "I'm really hoping you will."

Amelia tries to lighten the mood by joking about your plans, "Burger in hand." However, the actor is damn stubborn and continues to try and plan something with you, "We could have some burgers together, yeah." You stay quiet, letting Amelia take this one just so he knows that you're not even jokingly considering it, "Ooo, a picnic!"

When he looks at Amelia instead of you, your shoulders sag slightly in relief. Matty is seeing red though, he cannot fucking stand to see the lad's face any longer and even the harmless, "Sure, why not?" that he replies with, has the singer rolling his eyes and clenching his fists.

Amelia bids him farewell, "It was nice seeing you!"

"Likewise," he nods and waves as he returns the mic.

You smile big and bright, feeling finally free of your torment, "See ya'!"

And your boyfriend also feels relief starting to flood his system when the lad seems to turn away from you, but his anger is piqued yet again when the actor doesn't miss the chance of the goodbye to walk up far too close to you, hugging you by the waist and leaving a kiss on your cheek. Matty doesn't even note the fact that he does the same to say goodbye to Amelia, he's just furiously replaying in his head the way that his arms wrapped around you too easily and he was too slow and deliberate when planting his lips on the soft skin of your face.

What bothers him even more is the way you and Amelia giggle together once the lad is gone, as if you had enjoyed that. He doesn't want to keep on watching the livestream, and he has to remind himself that this is your job, but it doesn't make it any better.

It's ironic how that interview has made him feel just the exact way you're about to feel when you see who is about to walk into your little corner by the carpet. Dressed to the teeth in black, the woman in a high necked dress and wet look pixie cut steps in front of you.

"Halsey!" Amelia greets the singer all excitedly while you stand beside her trying your absolute best to put on your biggest smile and gather as much content as you can to appear as eager as your best friend.

But it is hard for you to formulate anything in your head that will allow you to make the interview good so you allow Amelia to take over for a little, that is until the woman unfortunately brings up the topic of dating. Halsey laughs a little as she looks between you both and says, "You've dated so many of my exes."

You hum, internally cringing but keeping a smile on your face. Thankfully, Amelia takes that one and says, "That is true. Wait, how many?"

"Erm..." Halsey trails off, cringing outwardly a little but making it playful by smiling, all while you feel like you've done something wrong. And you would hardly say two is 'so many'. You've only been on a chicken shop date with Matty and Yungblud.

Amelia realises her mistake and softly snorts, "Oh wait, okay, I know." To try not to seem too awkward about it, you chip in with a little joke that seems to also be the truth, "We all have the same type, love that."

"Yeah I know," Halsey widens her eyes to try and signify the awkwardness but at this point you can't quite tell if she's playing up to the fact the dates aren't real, or the fact that you're actually going out with Matty. The man she wrote many Tumblr blogs and poems about.

Amelia tries to lighten the situation by adding, "Damn, okay."

However, it is hard to keep it lighthearted when the singer says, "I'm sorry for you." The way she said it, and how she looked at you as she did made your stomach drop, so it is hard to reply with anything right away. It's harder to keep the smile on your face when she shows her true colours by saying shit like that as well.

"Yeah." Amelia says a little awkwardly at the same time as you go the other way and half laugh as you try to maintain your smile, "Oh, I'm quite alright."

"Maybe that's where we're going wrong somewhere on our chicken shop dates, me especially, is because we have the same type." Amelia keeps things jokey and playful as you try to get back into the swing of it after the shock the comment gave you.

"Imma give you some like real advice," she starts like she's about to give you two a TedTalk, "Yeah, that is where you're going wrong. Don't follow in my footsteps." She might see the way you can't hold your face from growing stoic and the quirk of your brows as if challenging her to continue.

You have quirky remarks ready to defend yourself, your previous dates, and especially your boyfriend. But thankfully the woman in front of you isn't as brave as she initially believed she was. The singer backtracks, "I'm just kidding, everyone is wonderful," but you're sure you can hear sarcasm as she sighs, "Everyone's amazing."

Amelia takes over for you yet again and jokingly attempts to make it obvious your dates are fake, "Everyone is wonderful, but like maybe we should change our type? Would you say maybe, not musicians?"

The singer, thankfully, takes her eyes off you to look up as she thinks, "Erm, well it depends what you're pivoting to because if you're pivoting to actors... also the same."

Remaining professional, you pitch back into the conversation with an easy smile as you chuckle, "Maybe just someone who's not going to be here tonight." She nods, looking between you both and saying, "You should find an accountant."

Amelia brightens up, "An accountant. You know what, that would also be a really useful thing."

"Yeah." The singer confirms. You hum, smiling but playing up to the joke as you say, "Maybe more useful than a lot of boyfriends."

The singer agrees again, "No, for sure," but backtracks again and tells you and your best friend, "No, you don't even need a boyfriend, you just need a therapist."

You can't help but snort, "Okay, cool." It's funny because if she's being a cow on purpose, this makes her look like such a petty bitch for saying this to you. If she's genuinely doesn't realise what she's saying though, it just makes her fucking stupid.

"A therapist," Halsey says again.

"Yeah. No, I could have another therapist," Amelia comments, "I have one at the moment, but I could double up." Halsey laughs at that one before joking along with you, "One to date, one to talk to." You cock your head in consideration, brows furrowing as you give her comment a thought, "Maybe yeah, maybe one to date."

She covers her face with one hand as she laughs softly at herself, "God, I'm giving terrible advice right now." You don't know how you refrain from raising your eyebrows and nodding in agreement. Instead you just mirror your best friend laughing.

Amelia is far too nice when replying, "No, you're giving the best advice."

"What kind of mood are you in tonight?" You bring the interview back to the default questions for the night, "Are you in the mood to party?" She considers the question and cocks her head before replying, "Yeah, I think so. This is kinda like a circus in the best way."

You nod because she is not wrong, "Okay." And Amelia agrees on it too, "Yeah." It feels like the tension has settled for a second, and it thankfully feels like this is the end of her interview. But, of course, you were too early in thanking superior forces for her leaving so fast because your heart drops as soon as she goes on to ask something you had long forgotten about.

"What word do I say wrong by the way?" Her challenging smirk is big on her face, the rise of her brows annoying you because it feels patronising. You immediately know what she's referring to but your brows furrow and you muster your best confused face as you quip, "Pardon?"

You swear you hear her scoff softly, giving you a roll of her eyes that most people would see as a joke but it just irritates you more, before adding, "On your date, you said that I say a word wrong? Lilac, was it?"

It sounds like she knows exactly which word she says wrong, so you hold back the urge to massively roll your eyes. Especially when she says it wrong again. So you nod, and emphasise the right way to pronounce the word as you confirm, "Yeah, lilac."

Then she goes again saying it weirdly, "Lilac," and you have to bite your tongue not to laugh. You take a shallow breath to calm yourself down since you feel like she's fully playing with you, before explaining, "No, it's one word, say it all together."

But she says it just the same again, "Lilac." You release a long sigh and try your best to appear as friendly and comedic as possible as you openly admit your lack of patience and her lack of ability in just saying the damn word correctly, "Yeah, no. This is not going to work."

Amelia diverts Halsey's attention from you to her as she lets out a hearty laugh, one that the singer very fakely joins into. You have to laugh along as well, before your best friend finally saves your arse and bids Halsey farewell, letting you feel just a bit of relief by having the girl out of your sight. But it would be a lie to say that the little awkward moment had not just ruined your night. It's a little pathetic of you to have let her rile you up so much, but from the shit she's written about your boyfriend in the past and now this passive aggressive interaction just set the tone.

It could've gone the other way entirely and you both laughed at the situation of your actually going out with someone she did. But no, you were met with silent animosity, sly digs, and looks that could kill. And to make matters worse, you're more than likely going to bump into her again inside, which pisses you off further. It makes you seriously debate just going back to the hotel with Matty and falling asleep in his arms. But you will absolutely not let that snake win.

Thankfully, the last few interviews manage to lift your spirits, Sam Claflin being the last person to step into your little corner. And the absolute gem of a man has you gigging instantly.

"British!" Sam exclaims when hearing you and Amelia say hello to him and welcoming him into the carpet. You and Amelia laugh and repeat with the same enthusiasm, "British!"

Sam lets out a sigh of relief at the familiarity of the accent, "That's so nice!" Amelia chuckles and jokes, "When British people see each other, that's what they do, they go: British!"

You and the man in the classic tuxedo say at the same time, "British!" And the three of you continue with your chorus of "British," until the word starts feeling odd when rolling off your tongue.

You point it out with a funny look on your face, "Alright, that's starting to sound like an odd word now." After a little laugh and Sam agreeing, Amelia points out, "We've seen a lot of your castmates."

Sam raises his brows, and looks around a little before saying, "See, I haven't seen them yet! And this is what I'm excited about." Amelia nods and continues with her line of questioning, "Yeah, we've actually seen them. So will you all be on the dancefloor together, do you think tonight?"

But Sam shocks you with his answer, "I'm not much of a dancer." It's a little hard for you to believe that he wouldn't be good at dancing. This man in front of you is so talented in so many ways, you're willing to bet money he's actually a great dancer. "Are you not?!" You say instinctively with a shocked expression on your face.

Sam looks devastated to bring the horrible news, "I can't say that I am." 

Amelia follows up with a sad, "Are you kidding?!" The actor shakes his head, "No. Yeah, ermm..." Amelia does bring back what you had seen when he was approaching you, "When you came over, just now, I thought you're definitely a dancer!"

"Oh, I did dance over!" Sam chuckles, nodding a bit. "Yeah!" You say enthusiastically. But he adds, "No. I uh, I definitely have the posture of a ballerina. But no, it's not for me." Amelia snorts, "A posture of a ballerina. I love that."

To change the topic, you ask, "Are you fan of a burger? There's In-N-Out burgers."

"I do love a burger." Sam nods and his face lights up when he asks, "There's In-N-Out burgers?" You just get the excitement on his face and eagerly nod, "Yes!"

Sam delivers yet more sad news to the audience when he confesses, "See, okay, I've only had In-N-Out once in my life." But this time, you get it because you could probably count the times you've had In-N-Out with one hand, "Oh yeah, because we're British."

Sam almost pouts as he says, "We don't have it." The faint sadness shows in Amelia's voice as she adds, "That's true, we can't really have it."

It is absolutely hilarious when Sam turns to the camera and points at it as he says, "So, if you're watching In-N-Out, bring it over, over the pond." You look at the camera and point as well as you emphasise, "Over the pond."

Sam hums and continues, "And introduce us, properly." Amelia nods like a child at the camera and mumbles, "Yes, please."

It's hard not to laugh when you turn to Sam and hide your sarcasm to ask, "Cos you've just been having, what? You've just been having Sunday roasts?" Sam chuckles at the question and nods, "Sunday roast."

Amelia says, "Fish and chips." The tone that the both of you use makes Sam laugh again, "Yeah. Oh, fish and chips."

Because it's your brand, you can't help but mention, "We've been having loads of nuggets." Sam hums, completely lost at the random mention of chicken nuggets, "Those are good too."

Amelia seems elated at his agreement and is chipper as she continues, "Right? Can never go wrong with some nuggets." Bless him, he must think you're not eating well if that has been the main course of your diet as of late, but you let him go with a big smile and an eager, "Well, thank you Sam!"

Amelia smiles brightly, "It's been a pleasure." He offers you a sweet smile and says, "Thank you to you both." You give him a tiny wave as he goes to hand back the mic, "Have a great time!"

While Amelia says, "Bye bye!" into her microphone. Hilariously, before he leaves, he salutes you as he says, "British!"

And you and Amelia cannot hold back from saluting him back as the both of you say "British!" Sam laughs as he walks away, heading to the photo section of the red carpet, leaving you and Amelia to finally wrap up the TikTok live.

"On that patriotic note, we're gonna say goodnight to you all," You start the closing dialogue of your interview section.

Amelia finishes your sentence with, "And go get ourselves some In-N-Out burgers!" Playing into your brand, once again, you quip, "You think they'd have chicken nuggets?" Amelia hums, considering that to be better than burgers, "Cross your fingers."

Turning back to look at the camera, you bid all your viewers goodnight, "Alright, thank you for watching guys!"

"This has been Amelia," Your best friend starts saying. You grin, "And Y/N, at the Vanity Fair Oscars After Party Red Carpet!" In unison, you say, "Bye!"

And just like that, the live is ended by the staff behind the cameras and you have officially survived your Oscars weekend.

This should make you so incredibly happy, ecstatic to have accomplished such a thing, and have been able to pull it off like you did, but your brain is cruel and all that flashes back to the forefront of your mind is Halsey's interview. You try to shoo away the way it made you feel, her voice echoing in your head when she said, "I'm sorry for you". It just makes you want to crawl out of your skin to remember her tone, and her expression when saying that. Who the fuck is she to comment on your relationship like that?

It's really hard to focus on anything else while you're getting your mic packs taken off your gowns as the crew picks everything up before leaving. When you get the greenlight to go though, you remember your favourite curly headed lad waiting for you backstage, and that's when a smile comes back to your face. You cringe at yourself internally when you feel like you're following the light as you basically power walk your way back to Matty. Amelia cackles behind you when you loudly wince at your aching feet trying to keep up with your need to get to the backstage room yesterday at this point.

But feet pain be damned, you can barely even feel it when your boyfriend opens the door just as you're turning the last corner. And seeing him is just the thing you needed to calm you down. You can't help but grin as you look at him. He's changed into his black tuxedo, and has a crimson shirt underneath that matches the colour of your dress to a tee. He's got a few buttons undone and showing his chest tattoo, and the chain that falls over it adds to the whole look, so you don't know how to react. He looks so good with those curls bouncing freely on his head and you adore that he has a matching smile on his face as you all but run to each other.

"I'm so proud of you," Matty whispers in your ear after he catches you in his arms. You feel yourself melt into the embrace. He feels like home and it's such an overwhelming sense of relief that you feel like you could cry. Your voice sounds croaky when you softly reply, "Thank you baby."

He pulls back, pecking your lips quickly before analysing your face. He can see your eyes gleaming, slightly teary but that could just be the excitement of the moment, or even anxiety, so he makes sure to ask, "You good?"

Like a magnet, your lips are on his again, this time more of a proper kiss. One that says those three words you're holding in tightly to yourself. He hums tasting your mouth again, and it all feels so right. You pull back, give him the brightest smile, contagious as he mirrors it, and confirm, "I'm good."

Amelia's heels clicking closer make your turn slightly in Matty's arms, but it's her groaning at your displays of affection that makes both of you laugh. "Okay, you vile pair-" Amelia clicks her fingers at you both before she ushers you along, "Let's go party and get a burger before they run out of them!"

Matty snorts at her, "Burger first?" Knowing Amelia, he says that more as a statement rather than a question.

Yet, Amelia surprises him when she sighs, "No, let's head to the bar. I need some shots first."

Matty's eyes widen and you cackle at your best friend. Not entirely against her wishes. So the three of you waste no time gathering your belongings, sending the stuff you won't need back to your hotel, and heading inside to the big party. 

The one thing you can think of when you step into the place is how Halsey was right saying this was a circus. You have to really put effort in keeping your jaw in place, because the amount of famous people you see walking around you so carelessly is insane.

You have to scorn yourself for still thinking about that conversation with Halsey, letting her words ruin such a monumental day in your career. But it proves quite hard when everything she said felt like a dig at you and your relationship. However, you do your very best to push the memory aside, focusing on enjoying this very moment with your best friend and your boyfriend.

When you come back to Earth, you see Amelia have the same look of disbelief on her face. Letting go of Matty's hand for a second, you hug your best friend tightly and squeal in her ear. A singular second of fangirling before you try and act cool so you don't blow your cover of 'fake it 'til you make it'.

Heading straight to the bar is a good way to fight that imposter syndrome. A shot of tequila helps you settle down a little, and sipping a fun cocktail on your way to your table rids you of your nerves. The three of you bump into Paul again, and you're all enthralled in amazing conversation for a while. People coming in to join you, and therefore meeting celebrities you had never thought you'd meet. It feels so surreal but you make sure to enjoy every bit of it.

That is until you volunteer to get the next round of drinks for you and Amelia. Matty had bumped into Kate Berlant, and after introducing you to her, you left him to chat with her while you went up to the bar. 

In your giddy state, thanks to the alcohol making you feel warm and fuzzy inside, you miss the fact that a certain someone catches you making your way over to the bar. His voice alone startles you, the way he lowers his tone an octave when flirting with you. "Fancy seeing you again, gorgeous."

The icky actor who heavily flirted with you on the carpet is a few steps from you, and you're half sure he sees the subtle uncomfortable cringe you let yourself have. It's impossible for you not to look slightly horrified at the fact that he's back in your presence. You truly felt earlier like you were being preyed upon by a drunken fool. And if that's not enough, the awkward and cold tone in your voice should help. "Oh, hi." You turn away, hoping all the signs make up the clear message in his head.

Apparently, everything flies over his head. He swiftly takes a big step so he ends in front of you again. Massive smirk on his face as he continues his flirting, "Was hoping to see you in here."

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself to be professional. After all, he could be a Chicken Shop Date, and that has never harmed anyone. "Yeah? Thank you so much for coming over to chat to us before." You smile, trying to be genuine with the encounter, because content is content at the end of the day. "It makes it so much easier for us when people are chatty."

It's an attempt to sound friendly, but the step you take back so you're at a distance from him, added to the fact that you hide your hands behind your back should give off the vibe that you don't want him close.

However, Mr. Can't Read Social Cues does not catch that either. He leans in as he comes closer to you, "Well, I saw you in that dress and couldn't stay away." He makes the effort to grab one of your forearms to take your hand and kiss the back of it with a smile on his lips, "You look like a million dollars."

Mentally, you scold yourself because you feel your cheeks burning. More so from annoyance that he is not getting your offstandish ways. You pull your hand back as calmly as you can. You would hate for anyone to see this entire interaction and take it the wrong way, awkwardly you smile at him trying to appear as if you're flattered. Truthfully though, all you can smell is the alcohol on his breath and you feel your skin crawl.

Clasping your hands behind your back again, you smile softly as you accept the compliment, "I certainly feel like it, thank you." He smiles endearingly at you, and you cringe internally when you realise he might be taking this as you being shy. And from the way his eyes keep looking you up and down you know he's not going to give up. 

And your point is proven because it becomes so much more obvious that he just doesn't understand a woman's demeanour when he goes even further with his flirting, "I'd certainly pay that much for your company. You'd be worth every penny."

You scoff in disbelief, but mask it with a giggle when he raises a brow at your reaction. Never in a million years would you want this guy to spend a penny on you, so you jokingly say, "Well lucky for you I'm free."

The way his face lights up at your comment makes your heart drop to your arse. "You're free?" He asks with a hint of hopefulness behind his lustry yet drunk voice, "If you are, I'd love to take you out sometime?"

Shit. Fuck. Idiot. You laugh over-exaggeratedly, trying to make it seem like it was a joke, "Oh I'm sorry, I just meant I'm free to chat now."

Relentless might be this guy's second name though, or so it seems, because he continues to list all the things he is willing to do for you. "I would though," His eyes never leave you, and the way his gaze runs down your figure makes you squirm in your place. It's almost like he's eating you up with his eyes as he declares, "Absolutely love to take you out, pamper you, not to one of your chicken places though. I'm thinking fancy restaurants, treat you to something that'll truly satisfy you before we finish the night in the best way possible."

It's really hard not to roll your eyes at him, or push him away from you. You sigh as softly as you can, thinking about how awful it will be for the girls who might fall for his love-bombing ways in the future. Spare them please, whoever you are up there. Mustering your sweetest, kindest, smile, you start letting him down easy, "As lovely as that sounds I-"

But he is quick to interrupt, words drunkenly stumbling out his mouth, "If it's an issue because you're going back home soon, that doesn't have to be a problem. You're more than welcome to stay here in LA with me. I can show you around and take you to all the lovely restaurants and sights we have to offer... Equally if you really have to get back, I have residence over in England so maybe you could take me around London?"

Kindness be damned, you can't even hold a fake smile when you say, "Thank you for the kind offer but I have a boyfriend."

His face falls entirely, almost like the fact has sobered him up, "You have a boyfriend?"

"Yes," You say quickly, cold and cutting. But it seems like not even a boyfriend will stop his advances, because he very easily asks, "Is it serious?"

This time it's impossible to hold back from letting out a mocking laugh at him. Sarcastically, you reply, "I'd like to think so."

You would have paid hundreds for someone to have captured your face when he adds, "Does he really have to know?" Your jaw all but falls to the floor after hearing that. Bewildered is an understatement, and it takes you a few seconds to gather yourself and declare, "I'm not a cheater."

He sounds to be very well versed in the art of cheating and its loopholes when he suggests, "Is it really cheating if only us two know?" 

You truly can't believe the words you're hearing. Never in your life did you think this talented actor would be a drunk idiot who prayed upon women. Appalled and disappointed don't quite cover it. "Yeah it is," You nod with no sympathy left in you. "As flattered as I am, I'm not interested. Thank you."

You make an attempt to go around him, and head for the other end of the bar, but he catches you before you can even take a third step. Your skin crawls at the feeling of his hand on yours again but looking back you hold your ground, not letting him intimidate you in the slightest. His face is riddled with confusion when he asks, "But the flirting?"

To anyone observing the encounter, the smile you give him might appear sweet, but to those who know you well would definitely see that you're being nothing but cynical. And you hope the lad catches it as you all but spell it out for him, "It's part of my job. I'm paid to do it. Please take the hint."

His cocky mouth opens again and you'd already prepared for another quip back at him, but thankfully a saviour appears. "Baby, do you need help carrying the drinks?" Hearing Matty's voice floods your system with relief, and you're quick to escape from the actor's grasp to wrap your arm around your boyfriend's side. It's amazing how just his presence alone calms you, but you're just glad you don't have to speak to the prick who's looking at you knowingly now.

Holding Matty's hand makes you relax all-together, and it can be heard in your voice when you nod at him, "Please, that'd be great."

He's awfully tense though. His jaw locked, brows furrowed, killing stare aimed at the drunk and stupid guy from the interviews. Matty can't help but menacingly ask, "Everything alright over here?"

"It was," The actor quickly replies. And you're relieved that this is all over far too soon, because he then puts on the most taunting smile and asks, "So this is the boyfriend?"

Matty clenches his hands, forgetting yours is holding him tightly. But before he can say anything that might end badly, you go ahead and factually say, "This is my boyfriend."

Your boyfriend who had been giggling and enjoying himself while chatting with some friends he had bumped into. That was until Kate mentioned something that Matty thought you would like. When he turned his gaze towards the bar to look for you, and saw this bloke chatting you up again, he excused himself and dashed your way. Every step he took was accompanied by the memory of everything he had said to you during your interviews. All the stupid one-liners that you had laughed at and not really turned down as evidently as Matty would have liked.

It's her job, he'd had to remind himself. But you weren't on camera anymore, not on the clock, not your job to entertain him anymore. And by the looks of it, something must have happened. When he was walking toward you, he saw you smiling but it was like you were gritting your teeth to even be able to manage the facial expression. Something had happened, and clearly you've handled it well, so Matty is simultaneously biting his tongue and holding himself back from making a scene, just as you are. Though he's sure you were getting your point across, it seems the drunk fool in front of the both of you clearly isn't quite taking the hint. Matty's hopeful that his presence now diffuses the situation. 

A certain line he said comes back to your boyfriend, and Matty can't go without ill-willingly letting the lad know he is the one you're with, "She does look incredible on the dancefloor, by the way. Enjoy your evening."

You would have laughed if it wasn't for the fact that the comment only causes the man to smirk widely, winking at you before saying one last thing before he goes, "Think about it."

The lad walks away with a swagger that makes you scoff and roll your eyes. But those words only make Matty frown and question their meaning, "Think about what?"

"Nothing," You brush away with a shrug. But before you can turn back around towards the bar, Matty comes closer to you and inquires again, "What did knobhead want?"

You sigh, already tired of dealing with the lad and the consequences of his drunken words, "A date."

Matty's brows furrow even more. "At a chicken shop?" He has no say when it comes to who you date for work or not. But he will definitely voice his annoyance before you think of bringing him on the show. For all he cares, Amelia can take that date.

But Matty sees red when you confirm, "No, an actual one." Everything the actor said was so stupid to you, so it's not a big deal for you to share the absurd idea the prick had when you said you were taken. You raise your eyebrows as you tell him, "And for me to cheat apparently."

The dead look Matty gives you then screams, are you fucking serious? And when you press your lips together, you silently answer with a look of confirmation. "Oh, absolutely not." That is the last nail in the coffin for Matty. His head snaps to the direction the actor walked off in as he says under his breath, "I'm gonna deck the little cunt."

He goes on his tiptoes, looking through the crowd for him but before he can make any move, you keep him in his spot. You grab his forearm before he can even take a step and you stand directly in front of him, your grip tightening ever so slightly.  His gaze falls on you and you sternly say, "Don't. He's gone now, that's all I wanted." You're so over the whole thing, and you don't want to let the prick ruin such a special night for you.

"He's got some nerve," Matty hisses through his teeth, still looking through the crowded room for the silly cunt. You don't think you've ever seen Matty so enraged. Not in person anyway, but this is much different to the videos where he's speaking passionately about something he believes in. You can practically see his anger seeping through his pores.

And while you agree, you want the whole thing dropped, "Please leave it. It's finished. It's fine, he's just a bit too drunk and clearly doesn't know what he's saying."

"It's not fine, not at all," Your boyfriend says back. You can see his rage through his eyes, pupils blown, and trying to find his target. He scoffs when he can't find the awful head of hair the lad sports in between the sea of people in the place. "Asking you to cheat? Really? Fucking dickhead."

You sigh, dropping your head to take a few seconds because you know that Matty's got every right to be upset about it. But you just want it over with. You don't want to think about that creep anymore, so you take a few seconds to acknowledge your emotions and let them pass. It takes a few seconds, and you can feel Matty's gaze on you but after a minute, you feel so much lighter.

When you pick up your head, you say, "Let's just get our drinks, yeah? I don't want this to ruin what this is for us." The fury in those brown eyes you love so much thankfully flickers out into nothing. And you relax a little more when your boyfriend manages to slip his hand into yours. And with the way that Matty leans in to kiss your cheek before you're off to actually get the drinks, you're thankful that he's complying with your wishes. Yet, the hard stare he gives the bartender when he smiles at you before taking your order tells you an entirely different story.

Possessiveness isn't something you've noticed from him in the past. But you can understand it just after a situation like this and there's a part of you that appreciates the way he's so willing to defend you. But you'd much prefer for him to just be at your side while you ignore advances from people like that. Not that you get many of those advances anyway, thank god.

You notice Matty's still a bit tense even when you get back to your table. It's hard to get a genuine chuckle out of him as he chats to the people who have been catching up with Amelia. And you can't miss the way he so overtly glancing around the room, not even being discreet with the way he's on the lookout for the damn actor. But there's only so much of that you can take, so you make a show of dragging him to the dancefloor with Amelia.

Luckily, your curly haired brunette can't avoid the hold you have on him for long. His hands are on your hips before he can even think about it, and his lips are looking for yours as you move to the rhythm of the catchy songs the DJ is playing.

Having a boyfriend that loves dancing around on stage and a best friend that enjoys making TikTok dances is a god send at this moment. Because you've never found yourself laughing so much as you watch the silly dances they both challenge each other with. And hearing that adorably quirky cackle that's so unique to Matty, when Amelia busts out a few wild moves, is music to your ears.

Relief floods you, and letting go as you're celebrating such a big night with two of your favourite people ever is so easy. You're only human though, and you grow thirsty after putting off your bodily functions for a good half hour.

Matty volunteers to go to the bar for another round, and you're so grateful for the quick break from the attack your heels have on your feet. Amelia and you are giggling and chatting in loud whispers to each other's ear while you wait for your drinks, but she leaves you in a rush when she spots someone she knows around the edges of the dancefloor.

You watch as she runs towards the girl and how they light up at the sight of each other before hugging tightly. The whole scene makes you sort of nostalgic for a memory in the making, and you just need to take it all in for a second. Your gaze goes around the entire room, taking in every detail and committing it to your memory. You can't help but feel so overwhelmingly lucky. Being at one of these events even a few years ago was a fever dream, and now that it's your reality and you were actually paid to attend is something you'll forever be grateful for. And then your eyes land on the person who makes you feel complete and your heart melts all over again.

On his way back to the table, Matty locks eyes with your dreamy stare, and you just spring up from your seat at the sight of him. He can't help but notice the tears threatening to spill on your waterline as he gets closer though, and he becomes a little worried. He's carrying three drinks and you rush to help him with them. Not because you want to take a sip of your fun little cocktail, but because you need to kiss him and feel his arms around you desperately.

"Everything okay?" He asks, concern evident in his tone. 

You nod and peck his lips before grabbing your and Amelia's drink, quickly making the short way back to your table and setting them there for the time being. Turning on your heels, you see Matty set his glass right beside yours, but he's so conveniently close, your hand cups his jaw and you trap him in a loving kiss.

He hums against your lips, an arm wrapping around your waist while he rests on arm at the edge of the table. His worry dissipates quickly, and he can guess you just got in your head a little and you let yourself have a moment to take in everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. Matty only hopes that you're as proud of yourself as he is of you.

Giggles come from you when he leans forward, threatening to tumble you backwards and onto the table. You feel his smirk on your lips, but neither of you dare break the kiss. It's too perfect to stop yourself, you adore the feeling of the butterflies in your stomach as you kiss the man you love.

Matty knows you're not one for PDA, so this is a surprise to him, and he would be crazy to even think of cutting the moment short. Your mouths move together so naturally, second nature to show all the emotions inside you that you haven't said in words just yet. But you're so close to letting them out. His tongue teases the three words that hang on the tip of yours as he deepens the kiss. It's impossible for you not to break the kiss as you throw your head back in a cackle when his hand comes down from your waist to grab a handful of your arse. Even that's a step too far for you though, so you gently move his hand back to your lower back.

You're about to tease him for his actions, but he gets in there before you, so he can say, "I'm so proud of you, baby."

Your chest swells at the words, tears welling up in your eyes again when hearing the sweet conviction in his voice. There's nothing you love more than getting lost in those gorgeous brown eyes of his, and you can see just how earnest his statement is because you can feel the love he has for you radiating from him. But you don't get a chance to reply when you feel a hand resting gently on your upper arm, drawing your attention away from your lovely boyfriend.

Out of everyone you could expect to ruin such a moment, the last you expected was the person who stands right in front of you right now.

"Hey, there's no cameras in here, you know?" Halsey says, the condescending tone seeping from her lips as she continues, poison lacing her words, "You don't need to do this."

You have no idea what else to say other than, "Pardon?" as you and your boyfriend detangle from each other, which makes the intrusion all the more bitter.

But the singer fully ignores you, her gaze now falling on your boyfriend, who she gives a bright smile and greets with a nod and a soft, "Matty."

Standing up straight, but bringing you with him as he still clutches your waist, Matty smiles back at her to make this a friendly situation, "Ashley, how've you been?"

"Okay, thank you." She smiles at him, "Saw your show in LA. Your tour seems to be going well."

"Yeah," Matty nods, "I'm certainly enjoying it, thank you."

And while this exchange is very pleasant for distant exes, you can't help yourself. You have to know what she meant when she first came over and interrupted you, "I'm sorry, what don't I need to do?"

The woman with the wet look pixie cut finally looks at you again now. The harshness of her dark eye makeup makes her stare even more jarring when she finally responds with, "Be all over him-" She nods at Matty, "Because you went on a filmed date."

"There's a 'no camera policy' in here." She smiles patronisingly at you, as if she wants it to come across like she's doing you a favour when she informs you, "No one will report on what you're trying to do... So you can relax, and just enjoy the party."

Despite the shock of that coming from absolutely nowhere, all you can think is, wow, what a dumb fucking bitch. For a start, you don't know how she's missed the fact you and Matty are officially an item. It's not as if either of you have been hiding it, and from the way you've both been prayed on by the paparazzi over the last few months, you know that media companies in America have had you in articles over here.

Secondly, if you and Matty were faking a relationship just to get more coverage in the media, who the fuck is this bitch to tell you what not to do? Who the fuck is she to get involved in yours or Matty's business at all?

But before you say anything, you want to hear her admit to this being what she thinks is going on. You frown a little, feigning confusion, "And what am I trying to do?"

"Oh, you know. The dancing, the hugging, the kissing..." She looks between you and almost laughs when she sees Matty's arm still wrapped around your waist. "You might as well be attached to his hip."

As annoying as it is to have your relationship questioned in this way, you can't help but find this whole interaction rather amusing. An ex getting a little too involved in a new relationship is genuinely hilarious to you, especially when Matty has (in the past) already stressed just how much he and Halsey were never an official item.

Before your boyfriend picks his jaw up to correct the woman he used to sleep with, you beat him to it. And Matty can't help but take pride in the way you're so nonchalant and sarcastic about it. "Oh right," You nod before dryly saying. "I wasn't aware that I needed permission to have a drink with, or dance with, or kiss my boyfriend but I'll certainly endeavour to get authorisation next time." You turn towards him slightly, laying a hand over his shirt as you ask, "Matty, any issues?"

Even from just this small shared look between you, the humour is so clear in both of your eyes just how amusing you're finding this. 

"None at all." Matty smiles at you.

The smirk that finds its way to your lips has your boyfriend biting his tongue to stop himself laughing. There's certainly a silent conversation happening between you, and it's along the lines of, I can't believe you used to date this woman - yeah it wasn't my best decision making - I can't believe the audacity she has - Yeah, tell me about it. Why do you think it didn't last?

"Wait," Halsey brings you back to reality and the both of you glance back to her, watching as she blinks slowly, and there's something so satisfying about seeing the moment realisation seeps in. "This is real?" The singer points between the two of you, dumbfoundedly asking, "You two are actually..."

Letting your voice have that noticeable gravel drawl, you nod slowly, patronisingly, "As real as a heart attack."

"Since when?" She frowns, shaking her head as if she still doesn't believe you.

It's a pathetic question regardless. Her having a date won't make her believe your romance any more than she already does. Matty has to hold back a scoff, unable to believe how entitled she feels to information that is none of her business. Especially not when she approaches the two of you with a ridiculous superiority complex, "Since I asked her to be my girlfriend and she said yes."

The bitch inside you wishes she could add, A question that you never heard. 

Before you could even have the chance to though, Matty wraps the interaction up for the both of you, "Now if you'll excuse us Ashley, we've got things to be doing." Your boyfriend quickly reaches behind you and grabs the drinks again before you start walking off. "Wish I could say it's been great to see you, but alas."

You're somewhere between wanting to scoff or laugh as you take yours and Amelia's drinks from Matty, pinching both glasses between your fingers, so you can take Mattys other hand in your free one. Ultimately, you just end up shaking your head a little when you look at the curly haired brunette, finally getting to voice, "She's actually deluded."

"Yeah, well. Nothing that different from ten years ago." Matty sighs like he can't stand his past self for ever going there. And you're sure you'll talk about it more at some point tomorrow when you recap your day, but for now, you're happy when he gives your hand a squeeze and smiles at you, "Come on, I swear I just saw George."

You grin, looking around yourself for the lovely gentle giant who's in this room full of stars. And it doesn't take you long to find the man in question, and when you do, you see that he's already found your best friend too. George - dressed in a lovely light grey suit - and Amelia are in deep conversation when you get to them, but what you fail to notice until someone else moves out of your way is that there's another special guest with them.

This man is wearing a dashing burgundy suit with a black shirt underneath, his beard groomed to perfection, and his hair tied back in that man bun that screams 'pull me'. It's absolutely no wonder that you slip from Matty's grip to go and say hello to the man you're so very lucky to call your friend.

"Ross!" You smile brightly, wrapping your arms around the tall bassist. And you take every comfort in the big hug that he gives you, "I didn't know you were here!"

"Yeah well, these two were coming so I didn't wanna be left out." He explains, "And Hann was going back home, so I just got on the plane with George instead."

You chuckle a little, but then realise again where you are and just how prestigious this place is. He certainly couldn't just come in with George, he'd have to be on a list. So you ask a little confused, "But how'd you get into the after party?"

"Oh," Ross grins at you then, releasing you from your hug before he takes a step back and wraps his arm around Amelia, "Courtesy of your best friend. I'm her boyfriend for the evening."

"Oh," Your jaw falls slightly, as you glance between them, smiles on both their faces. You can't stop yourself from nodding, "Lucky."

"Lucky who?" Matty asks, taking his place by your side once more having already said hello to George.

You briefly hum in amusement, "Don't ask questions you don't wanna know the answers to." Unsurprisingly, Matty pinches you then as the others start laughing at you. But with a quick playful slap to his arm, you promise him, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

"I know you are." Your boyfriend nods, pulling you tightly into his side for a moment so he can kiss your cheek, and deciding to throw caution to the wind even more, you steal a proper kiss from him. PDA be damned.

After your kiss, you slip from Matty's grip once more to give Amelia her drink and to greet George properly. You adore the bear hug he gives you, and it's an effort to pull away from the warm embrace. "Where have you been the past few hours?" You ask him.

"Charli wanted to be fashionably late," He explains with a big smile, "And me and Ross wanted a back door entrance."

"You could have come through with us ages ago." You slap his arm a little. You all could have been having a good time together so much earlier if you knew this. Already knowing Charli will look amazing, you can't help but get excited to see her again as it's always an amazing night when you're out with her. You hope that she comes and finds you all soon.

"You two ladies-" The drummer nods to you and Amelia, "Attract too much attention and the last thing we need is more attention."

George adds with a smirk as he looks at Ross, "Especially after last night."

You frown at that, not quite understanding, "Last night?" You're so confused, as the only thing you know that happened last night was, "SNL?" Even when you glance at Matty for some insight, he looks just as confused as you. He's none the wiser, so you're happy as the drummer continues divulging more information.

"The afterparty..." George smirks, his eyes full of mischief when he informs you, "Where several women had to be escorted out because they were fighting over Ross."

Your jaw drops at first, imagining that scene and being slightly disappointed that you missed seeing that unfold. But the fomo dissipates, and a shit-eating grin cracks on your face as you turn to your boyfriend to say, "I told you they like Ross more than you! I told you!"

All your boyfriend has to say about it is, "Bullshit." Clearly not wanting to let go of the heartthrob-of-the-band title but you won't back down when it's a fact now.

"He is, and he has been for a while." You nod, and you even look to George for back up when you add, "I bet they were all over him."

"Swear on my life, Matty." George mimes a cross over his heart, and the biggest smile lights up your face. Being right about it is just fueling your ego on another level, and it's even better when his best friend adds, "Never seen anything like it before." George's smirk makes giggles bubble up your chest, and you let them out childishly when he clutches the bassist's shoulder and sets on stone, "Ross MacDonald the last last single stud of The 1975, ready to be devoured at any given moment."

Devoured. The use of the word makes your face heat up, and it is then that intrigue takes over. It's impossible not to ask, "Did you show any of them a good time at least?"

"How dare you suggest such a thing." Ross fakes a scoff before wrapping his arm around Amelia's waist and pulling her into his side as he plays on their new fake dynamic, "I've got a girlfriend to think about." You don't know whether to be jealous or happy for your best friend. But watching her blush has you wanting to scream at the top of your lungs. Maybe it's time to suggest a foursome to Matty?

Instead, you smirk and switch up your inquiry, "Are you going to show her a good time?"

Ross smirks at you before looking down at your very flustered best friend, deciding to reply with a mysterious, "If we're lucky."

Matty and George shake their heads, pulling Ross away from Amelia as you just look at your best friend and mouth, 'you lucky, lucky bitch'. The grin on your face won't subside as she walks towards you and grabs your hand, saying a quiet, "Shut up, shut up." The giggle that leaves your lips is loud, but the smile from this point onwards never leaves your face. Taking your hand, Amelia pulls you to the dancefloor, clearly needing a moment where it's just the two of you and no friends around to embarrass her further. Although, you do make her blush once more by telling her to go for it with Ross. Even if it's just for a night, she's absolutely won either way.

Unsurprisingly the subject gets dropped, even though you see the way her eyes linger on the bassist as she gets a little more tipsy and as you dance with her you catch the way Ross' eyes linger on her. You hope the both of them end up having a wonderfully messy night.

All previous sour interactions have left your mind, each sentence that had made you feel bittersweet before has been switched for the sound of Amelia's giggles as you have a dance off with each other. Charli bestows compliments on you when she eventually finds you, about your makeup and dresses and there's so much laughter from you all, but especially from George when you start your fake advances at his girlfriend. Not to mention how happy Matty's kisses make you feel, and you can't help but love the way Ross' winks at your best friend. Every negative thought you'd had while being here thankfully completely disappeared. You feel like you're riding such a high, and you wish you could bottle up that feeling and never let go of it.

"Come on, dance with me." You ask your boyfriend, and he absolutely indulges in your wishes without a second thought.

Dancing with him, song after song, wraps it all together for you. The man of your actual teenage dreams dancing with you, kissing you every chance he gets, at a place that never in your wildest dreams you thought you would be invited to, surrounded by people you only ever saw through big screens or on stage metres away from you.

It's a little wild to you how many familiar faces come up to you while you're on the dancefloor to speak to you about your work. About how much they adore Chicken Shop Date, or about how they love the way you and Amelia are on camera, and even how they love your friendship. Everyone is so beyond kind to you, and you truly don't think your heart has ever been so full. These talented people come up to you expressing how brilliant they think your show is, the one that you and your best friend dreamt up back in high school. Not only that, but now these celebrities are saying that they would love to be on a chicken shop date when you propose the idea of them coming on the show.

A million emotions course through you, and sometimes you don't even know how to react to it all. You're grateful, first and foremost, but it becomes rather overwhelming after a few hours of greeting so many new-but-old faces. Imposter syndrome mixed with the cocktails, aching feet, and a damn long past few days, you can feel your social battery draining at an increasing rate.

Matty is the first to notice, and he keeps a close eye on you until you say something. Only that you don't. And he can see the fact that you would rather be anywhere else but here now, but the words won't come out of your mouth.

"You wanna get a burger and head back to the hotel?" He asks into your ear while you softly dance together to a slower song.

You perk up instantly, your tired eyes widening at the thought of some food and the comfy hotel bed. Nodding, you smile to agree, "I would love to."

Your boyfriend pecks your lips before he stands up straight. A smile comes to his face when he sees your shoulders fall in relief at the prospect of leaving, "Let's say bye to them lot, and we'll sneak off."

Goodbyes are quick with the boys, George and Ross both giving you a bear hug and they melt your heart when they say they're proud of you, and you kiss them on their cheeks as a thank you. Charli gives you a hug before she's dragged away by someone who only just found her, but that gives you more time saying goodbye to your best friend. You're sure it's a solid 2 minutes that you clutch each other tightly for. You're both swaying, refusing to release the other, whispering how much you love each other and how proud you are of each other. Without any doubt you know that at one point you almost make her cry, and it's when you just about choke out that you can't believe that you've both made it. 

When you eventually release each other, Matty notes the glassiness to your eyes so you really appreciate the way he grabs your hand and pulls you into his side and kisses your temple. On your way over to the fast food stand, you get stopped by a few more people wanting quick chats, all of the encounters leave you smiling like a lunatic despite you growing more tired by the minute. Before you know it, your order is being bagged up for the both of you, and Matty has your hand in his as you both aim for the exit. You can't help but steal one last glance at the room filled to the brim with A listers and you feel beyond lucky all over again.

Pride fills your chest as you take it all in for the last time, and you can't tame the smile on your lips. But that smile turns to a full on grin as you turn to leave after spying your best friend and a certain bassist dancing too suggestively and far too close together. God certainly has favourites, and you and Amelia are certainly near the top of the pecking order.

~*~*~*~

Matty holds your big In-N-Out bag, leaning against the doorframe while you look through your little purse for your hotel room key.

All that is on your mind is taking your heels off, eating, taking off your makeup, and cuddling your boyfriend in bed until you fall asleep. You can't get in the room quick enough once the door opens, and Matty can't stop smiling at you. Your little list is stuck like a post-it to the forefront of your mind, and you tick the first item off it as soon as you open the door. Seeing where your expensive and borrowed heels fly to, distracts you for a few seconds from the very big surprise that awaits you sitting on the coffee table.

"Oooo flowers!" You gasp loudly, dropping your purse on the floor, when your gaze lands on the royal blue and white roses. There's so many of them it fills the table as a stunning centrepiece. "These are huge," you can't stop yourself from thinking out loud, wondering how many roses make up for the large arrangement. "They must've been so expensive for Vanity Fair to buy. I guess they've got the money though."

You chuckle hearing yourself, but before going back to your boyfriend and the delicious meal that awaits you, you notice the little envelope that pops out in between the flowers. It's been placed in such a way that you don't see the 'Baby' written on the back of it until you pluck it from the holder.

"Matty..." you say under your breath, knowing that this is his handwriting, and therefore, the flowers are his doing. As you go to open the envelope, a soft "What?" falls from your lips, but he just watches you with a smile so that you continue reading the little note.

'I never thought something we said on our first ever date would be so true. Thank you for showing me the art that is dating you. You continue to amaze me every day. I'm so unbelievably proud of you, baby.'

Your heart is hammering against your chest, begging to escape its humane prison to end up in his hands. Each word on the note branding itself on the forefront of your mind while your eyes can't stop going over them again and again. It's hard to tell if you're dreaming or not.

"You deserve them and more," your boyfriend says, snapping you out of your trance.

"Baby." You whisper, a lump almost forming in your throat at the emotions threatening to escape. But of course they do, your eyes fill with tears and a few fall slowly down your cheeks. Instantly, you walk towards him, your arms instantly wrapping around his neck and burying yourself into the comfort that is his body. Matty holds you tightly, but on your way over, he spied your glistening eyes. So he leans back a little, prying your face from his neck and cupping your cheeks in his hands so he can see his gorgeous girlfriend.

"No," He says softly, trying not to coo at your pouting face. Thumbs rubbing at your cheeks as he attempts to stop your tears from spilling, "No crying on me."

But it's actually impossible not to. Not when the flowers are insanely beautiful, not when his words make your heartbeat erratic. Not when everything you feel about him is coming over you like pouring rain, impossible not to become overwhelmed by their effect over you. "Thank you so much, I- I-" Your eyes leave his briefly, glancing back at the beautiful bouquet, your voice almost cracks as you explain, "No one's ever given me flowers before."

It's almost pathetic that you're crying over flowers, but it just feels so special and you feel beyond grateful for this charming man being in your life. Never have you felt so happy. Never did you think this sort of happiness was intended for you, and the fact you now have it makes it all the more precious to you. 

You all but fling yourself at your boyfriend again, clutching him as tight as you possibly can which makes Matty release one of those wonderfully unique giggles of his. He smiles, leaning into you to place a kiss where your shoulder meets your neck before he says, "Well if you're going to cling to me like this, please expect them all the time now."

A teary giggle escapes your throat, but you don't let him go as you whisper a sincere, "Thank you so so much."

"Anything for you." Matty smiles, his hand rubbing up and down your back comfortingly. He gently tells you again, "I'm so so proud of you."

"I'm proud of you." It's a must that you say it back at him, because getting to witness all the things he and the guys are doing fills you up with pride. But there is also a tinge of regret when you admit, "I wish I'd brought you a present to New York now."

Of course, your boyfriend is adorable and says, "I had you as my present. And you're all I'll ever need." He kisses your cheek, and his lips brush the soft skin of your face as he declares, "Best present ever."

But that only makes you want to cry again. Your chin wobbles, and your eyes fill with tears, while your voice is just strong enough to let out a broken, "Matty."

"No crying." He smiles with a tiny shake of his head, and he makes an effort to be cheerier and to distract you a little so you're not ending the night crying, no matter if the tears are happy or sad. "Come on," Matty takes one of your hands in his and gives it a little squeeze before smiling brightly, "Let's eat. I don't know about you but I'm starvin'."

Sniffling a little, you wipe the remnants of your tears and move your gorgeous flowers towards the side so that Matty and you could set up your feast on the nearby glass table. You take your seats on either side of the corner, so you're facing each other and your feet end up knocking against each other as you set out your meal.

The food has gotten a little cold now, but it still looks amazing. And after such a long day, you can't wait any longer to dig in. After taking a big bite of your cheeseburger, you hum in content and dance a little in your place. Matty chuckles as he takes a bite as well, and it's when he grabs a chip that you get nostalgic.

The parallels between your first ever date, contractual or not, and tonight are all that you're thinking, "I feel like we're in a really fancy version of a chicken shop."

"Yeah, same." Matty agrees, looking around as he takes in the luxurious look of the hotel room and compares it to that chicken shop in London where you first dated, "Fancier venue too. The food is just the same and average."

You can't help but think about how much you would pay to go back to that first date. To tease him for being late, ask all the silly questions Amelia and you had come up with, to get him flustered and for him to get you flustered. Never would you have thought that it would have brought you here, to this very moment. And the conclusion you always get to is, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Your boyfriend gives you a sickenly sweet smile, and his eyes scream sincerity when he replies, "Me neither."

Your smile is huge just before you take a bite of your burger, but Matty's silent questioning has you explaining, "You're practically dressed the same as you were on our date."

Matty looks down at himself and chuckles, "Oh yeah." noticing only his shirt is a different colour to the white one he wore on the date.

"I feel like I'm on par with you now." You take his attention back to you, and his eyes drop to your exquisite crimson dress again and he can't help but smile.

"Hey," Matty raises his eyebrows as he eats a chip. He's unable to stop his smirk, "You looked amazing in those leather pants." The memory of it makes you giggle, and you're sure you'll never forget the way he looked at you on your official second date either when you wore the black ones just to toy with him. You make a mental note to get a few more leather pieces for your wardrobe when you get back home.

"Not as good as you in those black ones in the Love Me video." You grin, "Your arse is better now than it was back then, I need to get you in a pair again." Biting your lip for a second, you have to add, "Tight ones, preferably."

The snort that Matty releases makes a smile appear on both of your faces. "I knew you only wanted me for my body." You hum in fake agreement, with a playful roll of your eyes as you take another bite of your burger. Matty feeds you a few of his chips then which makes you giggle again but you gratefully accept them.

Relishing the moment you are sharing with your boyfriend is easy, but it's hard for you to wrap your head around everything that's happened tonight, "This still feels so surreal. I can't believe this is my life."

Matty, being the jokester that he is, can't help himself and says, "Baby, I thought you were over being starstruck by my presence."

You roll your eyes, and sarcastically laugh, "Ha, ha. You're a little shit." And though you would love to joke about it, like you know your boyfriend is trying to do, to make whatever ramble you're about to go on not as heavy on yourself, you can't help but let your thoughts leave you freely.

"It's just-, I don't know." It's frustrating how you can't find the appropriate words for your feelings, so you just continue talking, "A designer offered to make this dress for me. Vanity Fair and The Academy wanted Amelia and I as hosts for this carpet. People we have been looking up to for ages actually recognised us and said they love our work."

"I don't understand how this just happened. And it's not been overnight. We've been doing this for almost 10 years now. But... I'm just amazed by it all." Truth be told, you had never thought things would come to be this big for you two after such a long time trying to make it anywhere. "And I feel awful that I just wanted to be gone by the end of the party." You felt so ungrateful in the moment, and now you feel the need to apologise for it, "I'm sorry, by the way. For letting my energy get so low, and just not keeping up with the energy inside the party."

"Baby-," Matty starts, but you can't hear him say you don't need to apologise again.

"No, I-. You might have wanted to stay, but I was just drained." Admitting that is hard, knowing that you should've enjoyed every second of it. Imposter syndrome being exchanged for shame at yourself for not taking in every little bit that you're getting back now. "And I know you. I know we left because of me."

The look you give him makes him reach out for you, holding your hand over the table. Earnestly, he starts, "Baby, you don't have to apologise for that. Ever." You pout at him, unsure of how to truly feel; relieved by the reassurance that it's okay to have wanted to escape all that, or still guilty to have felt so overwhelmed by such a big night.

Your boyfriend knows how to get you to smile though, because he gives you a cheeky smile as he adds, "You know we'll always leave at the same time."

A snort comes from you, and you shake your head while fighting a big grin tugging at the corners of your lips to call him out, "Of course you had to do a self-reference."

He shrugs, squeezing your hand twice, "Made you laugh."

You hum, not wanting to actually acknowledge that, instead admitting, "Made me want to listen to Notes."

Matty grabs another chip, with the hand he's not holding yours with, and contently promises, "I'll serenade you once I'm done with my food."

Now that's one thing you'd love, so you smile brightly as you continue to eat. But Matty notices how your smile fades off as you silently continue eating, so it's no surprise when you show that you've been giving it all a thought again when you confess, "I know you just said I shouldn't apologise but I must confess it's become so much attention now, sometimes I think I'm not made for it."

He looks at you seriously this time, knowing how hard it is to struggle with fame. Having dealt with not only his own, but his parents' and the effect it had on his family. Even though he knows it's not the best thing to hear, he knows that the best insight he can give you is, "You sort of get used to it."

"What if I never do?" You ask genuinely, "Because I can deal with the dates, the promo for them, and these events. But only when it's on camera." A heavy sigh leaves you when you remember what happened earlier, another example of why that attention you're getting can be so inconvenient, "I was so uncomfortable when that guy came up to me inside."

"That prick?" Matty says straight away, but he notices what he's doing again, so he rephrases it, "The actor?"

"Yeah. He wouldn't get any of the things I was telling him. And then you came over..." The feeling of uncertainty that filled you at that moment comes back as a ghost that makes goosebumps break on your skin, "I didn't know what to do, honestly."

Your boyfriend pales, and stops eating. It's clear now how much of a dickhead he had been earlier, and he apologises for it, "I'm sorry for reacting like that instead of comforting you."

You don't want to make it a big deal, not wanting for that drunk guy to take away from tonight. And you know that Matty saw all the flirting on the livestream, you cannot judge him for being jealous when you would've been too if you were in his position, "It's alright, I get it."

But you sure appreciate how self-aware and thoughtful your boyfriend is when he continues, "No, I went defensive instead of making sure you were okay. And I know you can handle yourself, and you did handle it yourself but I should've thought of only you instead of wanting to get all macho man with the lad."

What you don't expect though, is for another apology to follow. "And while we're apologising, I'm sorry about Ashley's behaviour." It takes you a second to realise he's talking about Halsey but he continues, "You didn't need all of that today and certainly, especially on camera but even afterwards in the party." Matty can't help but shake his head as he frowns, "She never could bite her tongue if something was on her mind but that hit a new low this evening."

"Nonsense," You shake your head, picking up another few chips as you say, "You don't have to apologise for that, for her."

"I know I don't," Matty is instant and even pauses eating as he tells you, "But maybe if in the past, if I had left things a little better, you wouldn't have had to be on the receiving end of that today."

You can see the guilt simmering in his eyes, and that's something you never wish to see. Especially about this specific subject. There's nothing you want him apologising for. "Her not growing up and getting over it is not your issue." You very seriously say, looking into his gorgeous eyes as you promise him, "She didn't ruin my night, and you don't need to apologise."

You lean across the table and take his hand, squeezing a little as you smile, "Having you here with me tonight was one of the best things about it."

Matty can't help but smile as he intertwines your fingers. He tilts his head to the side as he playfully asks, "Not the best thing about it?"

"Oh no no," You can't help but smirk at him, grabbing another chip with your other hand and eating them as you grin, "You gotta know your place."

Matty can't help but laugh, but he indulges you, asking, "Do tell."

He's so beyond easy to wind up, it's a joke. And all it takes is three little words. Your curly haired brunette's face changes entirely when you smirk, "Seeing Ross, obviously."

"Oh come on!" Matty scoffs, pulling his hand from yours to playfully hit the table in fake frustration. It's beyond funny as you can see him wanting to laugh, but he manages to restrain himself. But you can't help but think back to the man who your boyfriend still doesn't believe is now more thirsted over than himself. One day you will show him the depth of stan twitter.

"Did you see him and Amelia when we left?" You have to question as you eat some more of your food, and you almost find yourself flushing a little when you ask, "I wonder if they left together."

Matty smiles, as it wouldn't surprise him after the way he saw his mate looking at your best friend this evening. But he can't help but plead, "Don't put a glass to the wall I beg."

"She's across the hall, so at least we're safe." You chuckle a little, but you can't help but let your mind go a little wild and your lips get a little loose as you add, "However, I'd do anything to be a third."

Never have you seen your boyfriend's jaw fall so fast than it did just then, and it takes everything you have to stop yourself from bursting out laughing. His dramatic leaning back in his chair, shaking his head and crossing his arms, "Wow, okay," makes it even harder to stifle your laughter.

"Oh don't get jealous." You purse your lips to stop your amusement from showing, but you're sure that you're not hiding it very well. "If there's a third, there would be a fourth. I'd bring you."

Matty raises his eyebrows, as he half laughs, half scoffs in disbelief, "Oh how gracious of you!"

You can't hold your laughter then, and it seems your boyfriend can't either. You both let a few laughs out, the last of your food long since forgotten in front of you, but Matty shakes his head as his chuckling slowly subsides, "I'm not sharing you. No way."

"Oh come on." You tease, the smile on your face never faltering as you carry on taking the mick, "Even with our best friends? We've all kissed before."

"What now?" Matty's eyes somehow get wider.

"Well," You chuckle as you correct yourself, "Me and Amelia, you and Ross. What's the difference?"

Your boyfriend shakes his head, "No." A smile is still tugging on his lips though, and you're adamant to get that grin back on his face.

"Come on!" You lean forward and poke his knee, trying now to annoy him into submission.

"No, I don't want them to touch you." Matty bats your hand away, shaking his head again, his curls going everywhere as he says, "No way."

Smirking, you sing-song, "You're jealous."

Matty wraps a curl around his finger a few times before he says, "No."

"Don't lie." You laugh, knowing full well that you're right. So you nod, repeating yourself, "You're so jealous."

You would've bet thousands on him not admitting he was jealous, yet he shocks you first when he easily replies, "Well of course I'm jealous." But it's far easier for him to say, "I love you."

You see his face change from the faux nonchalant demeanour he had put on to tone down his jealousy, to an expression of surprise at himself. But his face didn't fall in fear nor embarrassment. There was a shadow of relief, a sparkle of anticipation rather than dread for your answer. Because, truly, he's spent so many nights thinking about when the best moment to tell you would be. The struggle to keep in those three words has been excruciating, but the need to make it special has been even worse.

But now he's here, letting slip at such a random time, and though he should be worried he's fucked it all up by saying it now, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. His heart beats freely inside his chest, content at the fact that it's all out in the open, just waiting for what you're going to say next.

A massive smile makes its way to your face, your cheeks will be hurting and you know it, because there's nothing and no one that will be able to wipe it off your face. "Yeah?" You giggle because the two of you saying these words to each other like this is so you. And you truly wouldn't have it any other way. That's exactly why you add, "I'd probably be jealous as well because I love you too."

"Give me a kiss." Matty's grin is unlike anything you've seen before, and he leans forward, needing that closeness once more. Of course, you're about to lean forward and kiss him, but a memory springs to mind which keeps you sitting back in your seat.

The smile on your lips is untamable when you say, "Can't reach."

Something in Matty's heart lurches when you say that. The image of you doing the exact same thing to him back on your first date is quick to enter his mind. He can't believe just how much has changed since that day. Never would he have imagined that agreeing to the date and asking for you back at the NME awards would lead to him being in the most meaningful relationship of his life. Never has he felt such love from another person, or has been so in love before.

So there's absolutely no hesitation from him when he smiles, "I can reach."

"I can't reach." You stay where you are, a massive smile still on your face as you sit back needing the past to repeat itself.

Smirking, Matty stands up, "I can reach." and he places his hands on the table dividing you, leaning closer, and he gently takes your chin between his thumb and finger and makes you look up at him. He leans in closer to kiss you but pauses a few inches away to promise, "I'll always reach."

And if you weren't already madly and deeply in love with him, you would have been then. You bridge the gap and kiss the love of your life like you can't wait another second.

You've kissed your boyfriend before a million times, every one of them releasing a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, but this time it feels different. His plush lips slotting between yours, the warmth of his hands cupping your face, the sound of his soft exhales as he moves with you. His tongue poking out slowly to tease yours, an invasion that you accept gracefully with a hum that makes him hold you a little tighter. But it's not rushed, it's not shadowed by lust or need; it's slow and deliberate, intense yet thoughtful, like both of you are trying to memorise what it feels to taste each other's mouth when the novelty of those three words is still fresh on your tongues.

Matty's smile is so soft once he pulls back from the kiss, despite having done reluctantly so. "Say it again."

"I love you." You whisper, needing him to know those words are only ever for him from this moment on. Your heart is his and it forever will be. Nothing will ever change that now.

Matty watches you say that to him, and he can't believe his luck. You're it for him, and he has every intent to cross every milestone with you. Give it a year and he has every intention to have a stone on your left ring finger.

He presses another kiss to your lips just before he promises, "I love you." The small giggle that leaves your lips in answer is one of pure joy. You can't believe that you're so lucky, that you have such a wonderful man who has been your crush for years declaring his love for you.

"Okay, I'm changing my answer," You say randomly, not really bursting the bubble of your moment but piquing at Matty's curiosity.

So he is quick to ask, "To what?"

You definitely get his heart racing when you make clear what it is that you're referring to, "Seeing Ross wasn't the best thing to happen today."

He smirks, prematurely smug about what you're about to say and how it definitely involves him. "Ah, really. What's the best thing now?"

Yet, you remind him of just why he fell absolutely and irrevocably in love with you when you say someone else's name instead of his, "Paul Mescal."

Matty cackles loudly, not having anticipated you saying that at all, but he plays along, "Now that's a crush I can get behind. We have similar taste with that one."

"See?" You grin, "That's why I love you."

~*~*~*~ The End ~*~*~*~

A/N: We're so damn emotional finishing this story. We never anticipated what it was going to become, but we thank you endlessly for all the love you gave it and allowing us to continue to have fun with it. Long live Baby and Matty, we'll miss them loads.

Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @faveficz @indierockgirrl​  @slutformattyhealy  @kmsmedine @cecefaith​ @benkidgenius @avasjunkpile@spicyraccoonlordking@lizzylynch1​ @ofbluesandyellows​ @kipperthedog2004​ @slutforcoffein​ @madamedesmond​ @iamhallucinationnn @imagines4peeps @siwiecola​ @eaglestar31 @neverlieliliac​ @olliewhinchester​ @internetmultifandomfangirl @wellwellhereiam​ @dania7361 @kurdtbean @mawanji @jazzymariexoxoc @picklesandsprinkles @home-of-disaster​ @maelialuv​ @londonalozzy​ @ker0senebunny​ @golden-hoax​ @thouarntsage​ @belledawnidk​ @confusedcrayon​ @how2understand​ @harringt8ns​ @sheisaaantisocial​ @brumantrack @real-actual-human-person​ @eddiemunsonsgroupie @hemmings8376​ @darlingbravebelle @defnotgracee​ @fabulouslyflamboyant5  @deamus-liv​ @itsjustsocialimplications​ @deamus-liv​ @itsjustsociallimplications​ @lauren--maex​ @ithinkivegonemad11​ @stclen-sweethearts​ @stuck-in-fictional-worlds @befrwime​ @getbillzoned​ @hazskillerqueen​ @conanbeshifting​ @thereisaplaceintheheart​ @jasmine06blog​ @blancastans​​ @luvrattyhealy @wendyspotatopeeler​​ @oh-caro​ @journey-to-consistency​ @kizzywh​ @ihatemat-tyhealy​ @l0ve-0f-my-life @julezs-bl0g @geeksareunique @eddiemunsonsgroupie @procrastinatinglikeapro @inlovewrobin @houseofdilfs @wh0re4zaynmalik @qtheressurections @hrryshoney @sinarainbows @behindmygreyeyes @oliviahickson @strugglingsophieee

[lizzie-queenofmeigas]

Warnings: incest

Notes: So, this chapter has a sex scene right at the beginning, but I won't post that because I have some shame. However, here is the link if you wanna read it.

As a child, Sarah used to sneak into Rafe's room. Ever since she learnt how to walk. She slept better in his bed. In his arms. She did that for years. Her mother thought it was cute. Ward not so much. And now she was doing it again.

Memories of what went down last night assaulted her when she awoke. There was a soreness between her legs, from what happened last night. Because of what she did. What Rafe did. What they did together. 

She should feel terrible about it. That was a lot of moral barriers crossed in one night. But Sarah didn't really care. It didn't feel wrong. It felt right.

"Morning" Rafe mumbled sleepy, stirring behind her. He tensed, probably remembering what happened last night. What he did "Fuck. Sarah, I'm—"

"I love you" a confession finally said out loud "Like a sister, but not only like a sister" she gulped "Do you—"

"Yes" his arms tightened around her waist "I love you. I have for a while"

"How long?"

"I think I always... romantically, at least since I was seventeen. I think, it gets blurry"

Because of the alcohol and the drugs. He didn't need to say that out loud, she knew. Seventeen. That would make her fourteen. That was the summer he started drifting away from her. 

Pieces and places.

"What do we do now? With this. With us"

Rafe kissed her neck, one time, two times, three times. Sarah giggled.

"Ideally? Live our lives together. Keep it a secret"

"Is that what you want?"

It was what Sarah wanted, but if he didn't...

"We'll figure it out" 

Would they? How can they figure out something? Committing incest was a crime. But it was true, that so long as they had enough money they could avoid the possibility of going to prison for it. But it would be Rafe who would face the possibility of prison. And that thought terrified her.

"Yeah. I should get ready for school" immediately, Rafe let go of her. It made her feel sad. The loss of his arms around her "I'm going to the shower" she sat in bed, hugging the sheets to her body "Can you pass me my shirt?"

Rafe didn't have the same shame as her, apparently, because he didn't seem bothered as he walked around the room. He threw her the shirt with a smirk. She grabbed it, her face burning at his nakedness and her own.

"I already saw you naked, don't know why you're so shy now"

"Shut up" 

Sarah put on her oversized shirt and grabbed her bikini on the way to her room. Maybe she needed to leave some of her clothes there. No, no, he was going to change rooms. She could leave clothes in the wardrobe of the new room.

"Sarah?" She froze. Wheezie was looking at her with her mouth open and her eyes, for once, not on her phone "Are you naked? What the fuck?!"

"I have to shower" she pretty much ran to her room, ignoring Wheezie's shouts and the pain she felt.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Wheezie knew. Wheezie saw. She would figure it out. And what would happen then? Her sister wouldn't tell on them, or at least she didn't think so. But what would she think of them? Would she hate them? Be disgusted by them?

Probably. We are sick and twisted.

Sarah took a quick shower, scrubbing the dried blood on her inner thighs. She had bled. Shouldn't be too surprising, it did hurt at first. But she didn't have time to dwell on that. No, time was running out. She needed to talk to Wheezie and then she had to go to school.

As she brushed her hair in front of the mirror, her gaze fell on the bite mark that decorated her neck. Fuck. She needed to hide that. Why couldn't the day be cold? If it was cold her clothes would hide it. And no one would question her for wearing a scarf. 

No scarf now, but a ribbon could do. She had a couple of ribbons wide enough to cover the bite mark, and mixed with a little makeup, the mark was pretty much invisible. She hoped, at least.

It took her a couple of deep breaths and a lot of convincing herself to actually go downstairs. To face her little sister, if she was there. And she was in the kitchen, sitting on one of the stools at the table. Rafe was there too, silently eating cereal. He smiled when he saw her.

"Wow, you guys are so gross" Wheezie commented lightly. And it was that, a teasing tone, not a judgemental one. Like a kid who sees her parents kissing and thinks it's disgusting "Stop it"

"We haven't done anything"

Wheezie glared at her.

"You two have fucked, which is super gross, but it's not that"

"You don't mind?"

She shrugged "It's you two. I'm not surprised. You have always been attached by the hip, for as long as I can remember. Then you had two bad years and now you're back and more obsessed with each other than ever. I don't care, guys, just don't kiss or anything in front of me"

"Done" Rafe finished his cereal just as Sarah sat at the table, grimacing at the action. She was so fucking sore. Thankfully, Wheezie didn't notice "When did you get back anyway?"

"I don't know. Before two in the morning for sure"

"Please tell me you didn't walk back home alone"

"Nothing ever happens around here, besides I always carry the pepper spray and taser that Rose gave me. You don't?"

"I don't go to places completely alone" Sarah sighed and took a bite of her toast "Why didn't you stay at Sandra's?"

"Ugh. Her boyfriend dropped by and she pretty much kicked us out. So rude"

"That is rude" Rafe agreed with a nod. He checked the kitchen's clock before standing up "Hurry up, we have to go"

They dropped Wheezie at school first and made her swear she would never tell anyone about them. Her sister seemed to understand the importance of keeping quiet, so she agreed.

"You know, we could go to the beach later" Rafe commented, trying to sound casual. She knew him better than that "Like, just the two of us"

Sarah smiled "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Maybe I am"

"Well, then, maybe I would like that"

Sarah looked through the car window, biting her lower lip, her face flushed. They reached the high school too soon, in her opinion. She couldn't wait until it was over and she could spend all of her time with her family and friends. There were some doubts in her mind, about going to college. Rafe didn't know yet, but she'll tell him.

"See you later" Sarah leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his cheek before leaving the car.

"You two sure are close now" You have no idea. Kie pretty much dragged her inside, because Sarah was having trouble walking fast "What happened to you? Why are you walking so weirdly?"

Oh, fuck.

"I fell" yeah, that was a good excuse. A believable one "So I can't really walk at your pace"

"Oh, sorry" her friend apologized "What's with the ribbon?"

Her fingers touched the lace of the ribbon. It was pink.

"I was watching Buffy, and it gave me some fashion ideas"

Her mother used to love that show. They watched it together when she was a child.

"It looks cool. Suits you"

"Thanks"

Sarah looked at the building, dreading already all the hours she would have to spend sitting on a hard, cold chair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pope had never expected to befriend Sarah Cameron, much less Rafe. If whatever truce they had could be called 'friendship'. But there he was, spending at least one day a week in Tannyhill. Drinking Rafe's whiskey (he did it once and is never doing it again) and eating his food. Swimming in his pool.

He had been hesitant at first, in believing Rafe was actually sorry. That he was actually trying to change. But it seemed like he really meant it. And that was why he had gone to Tannyhill when his father received a letter. A threatening letter. He'd gone to Tannyhill because of all people he knew, Rafe was the only one who was really dangerous. And because somehow, in the past few months, Tannyhill became a place of reunion for the Pogues. They were all there.

"So, this guy wants a key, what key?" John B questioned out loud after reading his letter "It literally just says 'the key'"

"It's not very descriptive" JJ agreed "What did your dad say?"

"That he has no idea what that means" he grabbed the letter "But check this out, look at the name. C. Limbrey, doesn't it ring a bell?"

He could tell by everyone's face that it did, in fact, not rang any bells. Pope sighed.

"The captain of the Royal Merchant was a Limbrey. So, I think this has something to do with the gold"

"We know a Limbrey" Sarah commented lightly. She was sitting on her couch, a blanket over her legs and a ribbon around her neck. She was walking weird that day. She fell, or so she said. Pope didn't know what to make of it "Charlotte? I don't actually remember her name. I was like eight last time she came around"

"Carla" Rafe placed the empty glass, previously filled with whiskey, over the table "Her name's Carla. She was a cousin of our mother"

"So...you guys are Limbreys?" Kie raised her eyebrows to remark her words.

"We are Redfields" Sarah's voice was clear and precise, probably bothered by the comment somehow. Then again, he would be bothered too if someone told him he came from a family of slavers "But our maternal grandmother was a Limbrey. So, Carla is our first cousin once removed. Which means we can help you, Pope"

"Yeah, we'll call her. See what she wants"

"Would she tell you?"

Rafe shrugged "Don't know. She was close to our mother, but didn't really show up after her death. But for what I heard she is dying, been so for years"

"That is a good excuse to not show up, actually" JJ took a fistfull of chips and swallowed them. He was a messy eater "What can she do to you, anyway? We're rich now"

"Yeah. We're kooks now"

"We're new money, she's old money. She has connections we don't. Not to mention she practically owns Charleston" he explained a little exasperated.

"Thank God we don't live in Charleston"

Rafe grabbed his phone, previously left by the empty glass, and dialed a number. Pope felt anxiety moving to his heart. It was always in his body, but sometimes it was still and did nothing. Others, it moved.

"What are you doing?!"

"Calling her" he could practically the 'duh' in his voice.

"You have her number?" Sarah asked surprised, because apparently that was something important.

"So, are we gonna threaten her or..." Pope glared at JJ.

"We are not going to threaten her" John B said as if he hadn't had worst ideas. Then, he looked around "Right?"

"I'm just saying, we have guns and we are not dying. So maybe she should be scared of us and not the other way around"

Rafe rolled his eyes, and honestly he could relate to that.

"Hey, Carla. This is Rafe Cameron, yes, Bessie's son. I was wondering if you could come over to Tannyhill, to discuss something important. Business plans. I have a lot of money now, as I'm sure you know" Carla had to say something that he didn't like, because his eyes went empty and cold. That did not help his anxiety "Yeah, so sad. Poor dad. Anyway, when are you free to meet me? Tomorrow? Good. See you tomorrow, Carla"

He hang up the phone, his empty eyes only filling up with life again when they fell on Sarah. He sat by her side, their shoulders touching. It was weird. Pope didn't have any siblings, but he was pretty sure they usually didn't act the way Rafe and Sarah did.

There was something he wasn't catching.

"Dude" only by those words he could tell JJ was about to say something insensitive "You really fucking hate your dad, huh? Not judging you or anything, it's just that I have never met anyone who hates their parents so much"

"Yeah, well, he's a piece of shit"

Something sad shone in JJ's blue eyes, a clearer shade than Rafe's. Pope felt the urge to hug him.

"Happens"

"It does" Rafe's fell over Sarah's thigh, squeezing lightly. Pope didn't think anyone other than him noticed that.

He didn't know what to make of it.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Keith Edwards at No Lies Detected:

Last Monday morning, I endured the spectacle of MSNBC hosts Joe Scarborough and Mika Brzezinski defending their post-election pilgrimage to Mar-a-Lago, marking their first meeting with Donald Trump in seven years. As they sat there reading from a prepared script, blissfully arrogant and hypocritical, a now-familiar nausea washed over me. It began in late October, when Jeff Bezos — with billions of dollars of business before the federal government — instructed the Washington Post’s publisher to break 36 years of precedent and make no endorsement in the most consequential election of our lives. I felt it again last week when CNN’s Dana Bash bizarrely both-sidesed the somehow unknowable politics of neo-Nazis on the march in Columbus. It was clear to me, as I’m sure it was to you, that Joe and Mika were afraid of what Trump 2.0 would do to them, which Brian Stelter’s CNN later confirmed. (See my YouTube video for my initial reaction).

[...]

Powerful media figures' craven capitulation to government power — before that power is even inaugurated — surely smacks of the preemptive compliance Snyder describes. Since we as Americans have no experience of authoritarian rule, speculating about what comes next is a challenge. To imagine what a returned Trump might do once in power, consider Russia’s experience during Vladimir Putin’s rise:  Four days after Putin’s inauguration as Russia’s president in May 2000, Russian federal tax agents raided the offices of NTV, one of the country’s few independent media outlets. NTV had pitilessly mocked the notoriously thin-skinned Putin; once he got to power, he wasted no time deploying the full force of the Russian federal government against it. Under the guise of financial crimes, NTV’s owner was swiftly arrested, imprisoned, and coerced into selling NTV to a pro-government conglomerate who would replace NTV’s journalists and make it a Kremlin mouthpiece. The following month, Putin summoned Russia’s most powerful business figures to the Kremlin where he made clear their new reality: Stay out of politics, and you all can keep your businesses, your wealth, and your freedom. In one fell swoop, the Russian state had cowed its media elites.

If you’re saying, “Well, that’s Russia and this is the United States,” compare the parallels between our country today and the Russia of 2000. Trump of course is pathetically sensitive to media criticism, and he has repeatedly made plain his intention to continue his weaponization of the federal government against his perceived enemies. Senate Republicans are eager to grant him his loyalist hacks as law enforcement officials (so long as they aren't generationally loathsome accused sexual predators!) who will unleash prosecutions against his enemies. As recently as today, Elon Musk — whose willingness to light money on fire extends from Twitter to Trump-Vance 2024  — has menaced MSNBC with a pro-Trump takeover. Meanwhile, social media and tech moguls fell over themselves to ingratiate themselves with Trump after his victory, having essentially shadowbanned political content prior to it. Trump moreover enters office with advantages Putin did not. He will be the first U.S. president with a media company of his own, which before Trump took a sledgehammer to our norms would have been unthinkable (though it worked out in Italy!). He enjoys the unlimited support of Elon Musk and his wholly owned and radicalized X, as well as of an emerging army of Gen Z podcast bros. Lastly, a rightwing legacy media propaganda machine consisting of Fox News, Newsmax, and OAN stands at the ready. A cinematic universe of Made-in-America state-run media served from your TV to your browser to your phone.

Dear Media: Do Nor Obey In Advance.

[charlotte-of-wales]

An endless list of my favorite outfits worn by the Princess of Wales (59/∞)

Unveiling The Magic Garden attraction at Hampton Court Palace, May 4th 2016, wearing:

Michael Kors blue twill swing coat

Roksanda Ilincic 'Peridot' Shift Dress

LK Bennett 'Fern' trench leather pumps

LK Bennett 'Nina' frame clutch style in trench leather

Mappin & Webb 'Empress' earrings and necklace

[crepezinhos]

Time-in

Kinich is not the most humble guy when it comes to setting hours to Ajaw's timeout and Ajaw hates it to the core. He hates it so much that he counts every single second until he can leave that stupid place and Kinich knows it, which is why he almost always prepares to have the pixelated dinosaur flying around him, screaming how reliefed he is to be out again... but not when he's fucking you.

Kinich is raw. He'll fuck you for hours in many kind of positions until he's made sure that your are full of him without emiting a single, clear moan. It's all whispers of praise and hums done inside his throat. It's not because he doesn't enjoy that kind of activity, he actually enjoys it like you're gonna die tomorrow, after all, he even manages to lose track of time, no matter how perfect he is with timing.

"Ahhh!!! Feels so good to be out aga-" Little Ajaw suddenly popped out from Kinich's back very excited to be out, but before he could start doing little 'celebration' dance where he’d just twerk his buttocks around, the scene and sounds below him made his whole tiny body freeze, to a point where half his forehead was blue due to the shock.

"A-Ajaw..?!" You moaned his name out in despair, using all the strength you had left to try angling your intimate body parts away from Ajaw's big eyes, but you can’t ‘un-view’ things unfortunately.

Kinich didn't even realize Ajaw's presence at first, so he got confused when you said that and turned to his back him right away, already ready to act tough on the poor dinosaur who was witnessing raw human breeding.

"Leave." Kinich scolded him with an annoyed voice tone, trying to censor your body from him by hugging you closer to his chest, but not a single muscle of his face moved as he did so, neither did he stop thrusting your swollen cunt, going back at staring at your pathetic sex face as soon as he was done ordering the pixel around.

Ajaw's jaw trembled some times, probably trying to find something to respond, but the view he was witnessing of his servant’s dick being so roughly inserted in such an angelic and modest woman like you to a point where you were all naked and broken into a hungry slut with sweaty hair, a creampie in your belly and so many marks of bites, hickeys and handprints all over you done by Kinich, was making him so uncomfortable that he just flew back to his timeout zone. Yes, he went to timeout on his own just because he was that uncomfortable. Just the fact that his servant knew what sex in the first place bothered him! You and Kinich seemed so modest talking to each other that in his eyes you two would never be able to do such carnal activity, especially a kinky one.

"K-Kinich! S-Slow down-! I-I just came, please!"

Were the last words he heard from Tevyat before he was back to his little pixelated jungle realm.

Silly little thought about Kinich before I finish my actual next post 😋

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

astarion ancunin hcs {pt. 1}

once he's comfortable with you, he adores non-sexual physical intimacy

playing with his hair will calm him down almost instantly

he's protective and possessive, so he'll keep a hand on you at all times, usually on your back

loves when you initiate any kind of physical contact

always asks to do something before he does, in either a sexual or nonsexual context

he's easily jealous and can sometimes get very possessive; for the first time in 200 years, he has someone who genuinely loves him and he hates the possibility that he might lose you

that possessiveness is obvious when he marks up your neck with bites and hickeys

if he feels like his place in your relationship is threatened in public, he will not hesitate to touch, hold, or kiss you in front of whomever is making a move on you; after some bearing of fangs, whoever it is usually scuttles off very quickly

he definitely feels very undeserving of you and your love and has his days when he's convinced you're going to leave him for someone better when you get the chance, or that he's keeping you from; that insecurity lasts for a very long time

constantly buries his own feelings, so you have to coax them out of him and teach him how to set boundaries and stand up for himself

astarion absolutely LOVES bathing together; he can be very vulnerable with you without sex being expected when you bathe together and it absolutely helps him regain some control and bodily autonomy

he loves gifting you things: jewelry, clothes, weapons, little knickknacks he sees that remind him of you

his elven ears are so sensitive and he absolutely will whine involuntarily when you brush your fingers over them (either on accident while you're touching his curls or on purpose)

speaking of which, astarion loves having his hair played with, it's a huge comfort to him (and another form of physical touch that isn't inherently sexual, so it's one of the ways to ease him back into being intimate and physical)

sexually, he's very switchy; some days he wants to be in control and giving you all the pleasure you deserve, but other days he's more than happy to let you take the lead and love on him

he loves staying up late to have deep talks and watch the sky (sun or moon and stars, it doesn't matter which to him)

cuddle this man. all the time. he's absolutely a cuddle bug. if you don't cuddle him while you go to sleep, he'll be very huffy, and you'll wake up to him curled up around you anyway

he also likes to be the little spoon sometimes, once he's comfortable with you seeing and being wrapped around his back

he will sew everything for you instead of teaching you to do it; he likes being useful in some little way for you (inspired by @aethes-bookshelf's post here because I saw it and went "you are absolutely right")

he commonly speaks to you in Elvish whether you understand it or not; it's absolutely a comfort to him, especially when you start picking up words and understanding some of what he says

contrary to the performances he puts on, astarion is a very gentle lover when he can finally be comfortable and genuine with you. he's quieter, softer, he takes the time to learn you and himself, he lets himself enjoy it; he learns to become a taker, not just a giver

he likes to hold you, however he can, and at the very least always be touching you. an arm around your waist or shoulders, a hand on the small of your back, holding your hand or twining your pinkies together. he can't be touching you, he's standing so close to you that he could be touching you if he moved a centimeter more

he likes to hug you randomly; one of his favorite ways to do it is to come up behind you while you're cooking or talking to someone or looking at yourself in the mirror to get ready so he can surprise you by putting his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder

astarion has a habit of kissing your neck whenever he can, sometimes it's a way to let you know he's hungry, other times when he wants to be intimate, other times just to remind you he loves you

on the same hand, he doesn't always say 'i love you' but instead makes it known through his behavior around you (and the fact that he's constantly looking at you like you are his whole world, because you are)

on the nights when you can't sleep, he reads to you until you drift off because he knows you find his voice soothing

he likes tucking his head into your neck and shoulder when the two of you sleep (which he finds out he actually likes doing every now and then)

the first thing astarion does when he wakes up is pepper you with little kisses on your shoulders, collarbones, cheeks, and forehead

when he's nervous and with people he's okay with knowing that, he'll reach for your hand and touch your fingers to calm down and ground himself. if you wear a ring or multiple rings, he'll play with those

astarion loves it when you call him by a nickname, either a shortened version of his name or a pet name. if he's fed recently and had enough blood, his cheeks will turn this adorable shade of pink when you call him "Star" or "my love" or something similar

how he wakes up from a nightmare changes constantly. the worse the nightmare, the worse his reaction when he wakes up. sometimes it's just a little gasp and his eyes flying open, sometimes it's a yelp and tears, sometimes he's crying before he even wakes up; but every time, his biggest comfort is to cling to you until the panic fades and then curl up in your lap (you've learned to light a candle or summon lights with magic when he wakes up from a nightmare; the shadows make him feel worse)

when you fall asleep outside of bed, he picks you up and carries you to bed and tucks you in—all without waking you

if you are injured at any point and there is no certainty that you'll pull through, he panics. he stays at your side the entire time, even if the smell of your blood is driving him mad, and holds your hand and talks to you, often begging you to wake up, to come back to him, to stay with him; more than once, you've woken up to find him with tears streaked down his face

every time you wake up from an injury and he realizes it, either because he's watching you or because you say hi to get his attention, he smothers you in kisses

once he's no longer starving, he likes to feed from you very slowly, to take his time and enjoy your taste; now that he's promised food, he doesn't feel the need to rush. feeding becomes very sensual, intimate, and personal for the two of you after that

he also loves leaving bites and drinking from you in places the others won't see; it makes him incredibly giddy to know that you let him bite you in places only he will ever see

if he's taller than you, he loves to kiss the crown of your head whenever he can

he will sew up your injuries whenever you need his help with it, even if the sight and smell of your blood makes him salivate

he loves touching your body to see how you react and lets you do the same to learn his own likes and dislikes

matching. outfits. he loves it, loves seeing people realize that you wear the same material and colors and realize what it means. he's very smug when people come to the realization that you're together

he frequently gives you his shirts to sleep in

if you are apart from him for any amount of time, expect to be tackled with a hug the minute you are reunited again

when you have the time, he likes to just lay in bed with you and relax together, half-asleep and cuddling and sometimes mumbling to each other pt. 2 coming soon

[kiss-inthekitchen]

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 

That is, until you opened the door. 

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 

“Sure looks that way.” 

"At least it's a queen?" 

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 

"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 

"–mind as long as you–" 

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Sorry,” you managed. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 

“You just said ass.” 

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 

“I knew you’d agree.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out. 

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 

“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not. I just know you.” 

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 

“I told you to stop profiling me.” 

This time, he just hummed in response. 

“And so what if I stuttered?” 

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings from him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 

“That all makes total sense.” 

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 

“Now tell me the rest of it.” 

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 

“Yes.” 

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 

“It is.” 

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 

“Are you certain of that?” 

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips. “It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 

“Okay, was it just me, or–” 

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed. 

“Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 

“Well, you kissed me.” 

“I did.”  

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 

You text back: okay? 

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 

You: what did u say? 

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 

You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 

Shit. 

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate?? 

Spencer: Yes 

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn. 

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 

[moonchild1]

 kim taehyung fic rec list (Ⅴ)

hello everyone i know it's been a while since i posted, work has been hectic, but i got some time and managed to finish a list so please enjoy i have a few lists ready to post so i'll que them up... here's my all time favourite taehyung fics, please show lots of love and support to these wonderful authors and their blogs, leave a heart, reblog or even leave a message or feedback under their posts i know they would appreciate hearing from you, some of these fics contain smut so no minors allowed you will be blocked ♡ feel free to recommend me some fics or just share what your reading right now i'd love hearing from you 🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

only here to sin by @gimmethatagustd s a ft. namjoon

When your genius of a boyfriend returns to Harvard for his sophomore year of college, you never would have expected to have his worst enemy keeping you entertained in his absence.

our gray winter by @vyduan s a ft. jjk

“Were you looking for this?” Taehyung asked as he handed you the box of tampons you always bought. He remembered. You wanted to sink into the floor and die. Instead, you recalled your manners and said, “Thanks.” You put the box in your basket. “I can’t believe you remembered.” He beamed at you. It was patently unfair how he could look all glowy and soft while you looked… not like that. “Of course, Y/N.” If possible, Taehyung’s voice dropped even lower. “I remember everything about you.”

schemes and tricks to win her heart by @crystaljins ft. ksj

Rich company heir Kim Seokjin has a plan to win the heart of the girl of his dreams, and you, his little brother’s best friend, are dragged along for the ride. His younger brother objects, of course.

camboy!tae by @hisunshiine f s a

Give me all of your love, gimme something to dream about. KTH is your favorite camboy, and as a loyal subscriber, you are chosen to test out some new features on the platform he uses to go live. He’s really good at selling his viewers a dream, and as a thanks to a new milemark he’s hit on the platform, he’s choosing one winner to get their fantasy scene. 

tolerate it by @archivedkookie s a

Taehyung is your husband, and you love him. If only he loved you back; if only he cherished your love and not tolerated it.

what was hidden by @daechwitatamic s a ft. myg

This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You're assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg's The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there's a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one's "true self" versus one's "shown self", darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

complete faith by @daechwitatamic

It’s Taehyung himself who admits that it’s usually around the one-month mark that he starts to lose interest in his relationships. So even though you’re so drawn to him you can barely stand it, even though he’s attentive and funny, even though you’re helplessly crazy about him… when you start dating, you feel like you’ve got an expiration date from day one. But will it be Taehyung’s issues that get in the way, or your own?

and they were roommates by @hoseok666 f s a ft. jjk

it all started with a rejection from your longtime crush, jeon jungkook. you decided to confess to him on your last day of high school. after a harsh rejection and a rough summer dealing with the heartbreak, you were starting anew once your freshman year of college came. you were going to be sharing an apartment with two other roommates that you don’t even know. what a surprise you’re going to be in for once you find out it’s the one and only: jeon jungkook and kim taehyung. 

with a brush of fate by @yoongiofmine f s a

Your roommate was sure she found you the perfect man. Her boyfriend believed he found Taehyung’s soulmate. The only problem was that you never wanted to date an idol and he never wanted to drag you into this life. Taehyung didn’t even know what he wanted anymore and was tired of being criticized for simply growing up. You just wanted to finish university and do something for yourself. What started out with the meddling of your friends became something neither of you expected. Could the two of you be what the other is missing? Or would things just fall apart?

groovy by @kinktae f s a

Even in the 70s, it goes without saying that you shouldn’t have feelings for your best friend’s little sister. 

tempting by @/kinktae s a

Y/N is an angel. She steers clear of the seven deadly sins, especially lust. She runs into a demon but, luckily for her, that demon doesn’t seem to buy into that whole “Angels and Demons are sworn enemies” idea. But unluckily for her, he just so happens to be the very embodiment of sin. Especially lust.

talk by @gukslut f s a

Finals week is kicking your ass, thank goodness you have a friend to help you relieve some stress. It’s a great arrangement, as long as no one finds out... as long as you don’t catch feelings. What could go wrong?

somebody to love by @cutechim

kim taehyung wins the heart of everyone he meets, and you—his self-proclaimed work “nemesis”—are not an exception.

tear you apart by @bratkook s

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear, ‘I wanna fucking tear you apart.’ demon au

clairevont by @/bratkook f s a ft. jjk

The second year of college starts off with a bang until you find yourself tangled in between your fuck buddy Kim Taehyung and his innocent room mate Jeon Jungkook.

free use by @littlemisskookie f s a

You tell your crush you want him to have full control of you in every way always. He obliges.

lost myth of truelove by @sugalaritae f s a

for six months you wait for him, a weekend spent together, finally able to reach the man your soul is tethered to.

because of you, blue by @ugh-yoongi f s a

nearly a year out from your breakup with taehyung, jin begs you for help saving his failing restaurant. the two of you aren’t exactly friends, but you feel some stupid sense of obligation and, really, what’s the worst that could happen?

true love by @jjkeverlast f s a

in which you're face to face with your ex again after 5 years, because both of your friends start dating each other.

obsidian by @kpopfanfictrash s a

The world of magic is divided into dark and light, witches and warlocks, choice and fate. You’re a prodigy of light, a witch who works within the police force. You’ve heard of Taehyung in passing, spoken in whispers as the warlock of dark who has the world holding it’s breath.  All this changes on the night you’re assigned as security for a mysterious singer named V and you come face to face with Taehyung himself. What happens after that might be fate.

baby, baby by @hobiwonder ft. pjm f s a

When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

entangled by @caelesjjk ft. jjk s a

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well. Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

buzzed by @junqkook f s a

maybe ordering a vibrator and letting your best friend open your mail wasn’t such a great idea.

queen cobra by @fantasybangtan f s a

when your boss offers the chance to take down the nation’s most lucrative gang from the inside out, you know you’ll do it no matter what the cost… even if that means entering an arranged marriage with the kingpin himself.

pulse by @rohobi f s a

You fell in love with Kim Taehyung during Medical School. Now living totally different lives in completely different hospitals, you're pulled together again as if by fate during a code black when someone plants a bomb in your hospital. 

things we don't say by @wintaerbaer f s a

Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

mars by @to-star-lake s a

ahistorical au, military au, yandere!taehyung

satisy by @suga-kookiemonster f s a

 “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do?

no kisses by @icedmatchatae f s a

It's championship week! The most anticipated week of the school year; however, leading up to the events, you and your council must collaborate with the football team to promote school spirit and pride. Unfortunately, you're forced to work with your number one enemy, Football team captain and fuck boy, Kim Taehyung, known for having a mysterious "no kisses" rule.

beyond desire by @strwberrytae s a

it’s never easy falling for your best friend when you have so much history. it’s especially difficult when you both share the same sexual desires and lifestyle. taehyung is a dominant CEO of a well known company in Seoul and you are an up and coming editor. while both of you come from a troubled and dark past, you lean on each other for support and comfort. what happens as your feelings blossom and grow over the years? what happens when you fear taehyung may be falling in love with someone else? will you confess your feelings or remain in the shadows?

one-shot

crazy for you by @oddinary4bts f s a

 you’ve known Kim Taehyung your whole life. When you meet again at a party hosted by your best friend, alcohol looses your lips and you spill your secrets to your childhood crush. Will Taehyung give in to your desire, or will you be struck by remorse?

seventeen times 17 by @cutaepatootie f s a

You loved him Seventeen Times 17.

ten out of ten by @shadowkoo f s a

For the past three years, Kim Taehyung has made it his mission to annoy you relentlessly on campus, finding every possible way to drive you up the wall during your shared classes. However, as you both enter your senior year, something strange happens. Taehyung begins to sense a shift in his energy, realizing he might just have some secret feelings for you. What unfolds when you make this earth-shattering discovery too?

under wraps by @jungkxook f s

there’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.

always the bridesmaid by @kookingtae f s a

When you first meet Kim Taehyung, you’re determined to find every reason you can to hate him—or maybe he’s just looking for ways to get on your last nerve. But when a turn of events has the two of you working the wedding of the man you’re hopelessly in love with, you’re too late to realize the real reason to hate Kim Taehyung is because of the latest column he’s secretly writing: “Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride”, and it’s all about you.

any way you want it by @noteguk s

in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

sharing is caring by @jjkpls f s ft. pjm

Taehyung is taken aback when his soulmate, Jimin, introduces his new girlfriend to him. Jimin tries to help them break the ice.

the end of all things (and the beginning of us) by @/kidguk f s a

the end of the world has come and passed, but there is still much to live for. there’s hope, there’s tomorrow, and there’s that guy you met while scavenging for supplies in an abandoned cinema. turns out he hates being alone, and the feeling is mutual.

aberrant by @kth1 f s

Meeting a handsome and rare fox hybrid was the last thing you had expected in a world of coexisting hybrids. What you also hadn’t expected was how this fox found a liking to you, showed up randomly at places where you were and next thing you knew - you were falling, hard, for the man.

lost in you by @/jjkeverlast f s a

the infamous kim taehyung, campus fuckboy and heartthrob is much more than you thought after an unexpected night.

the dinner date by @diortae f (ao3)

pretending to be on a date with your best friend to get a free meal at the fancy restaurant jeongguk works weekends at doesn’t sound so terrible, all things considered. there’s just one small problem: you’re pretty sure you’re in love with the aforementioned best friend.

until yesterday by @jimlingss f s a

You and Taehyung are hopeless as you are hopeless romantics. But five months after tying the knot and saying "I do", you're hospitalized after a car accident with him. But upon waking up, the doctors tell you that you don't have a husband.

the forsaken by @yoonia s a ft. knj

In order to save your people from the danger of drought and hunger, your father had sent you out on a mission across the ocean to find the heart of nature that could bring back the prosperity which your land had long lost. As the Chief’s daughter, you took the mission as your responsibility, even if you had to let the man that vexes you the most join you in your journey, even if you had to ignore the Elders’ warnings about the dangers and all the vicious monsters lying in wait.

blacklist by @httpjeon f s a ft. jjk

after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

1-800-music-street by @/httpjeon f s

↬you’re enchanted by a street performer and then he saves you, resulting in multiple meetings one can only describe as fate.

farner boy i love you by @strawberrynamjoon f s a

↬Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.

waterloo by @/kinktae f s a

↬Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn't believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story. Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love."

get you the moon by @bymoonchild f s a

↬Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate.

fate of the fast & furious by @prolixitae f s

↬you’re a first-generation college student and taehyung is the hot guy with a love for motorbikes who lands the job babysitting for your family while you’re away.

fast & fearless: what comes first by @/prolixitae

↬taehyung is used to earning his keep through illegal street races, and he’s got every reason to win that upcoming promise of prize money for an old friend. but when the odds don’t fall in his favor, he turns to babysitting. enter, you: a first-generation college student with too much to lose to be spending all your time with a troublemaking biker. who also happens to babysit for your kid brother.

cobalt blue by @hobivore s ft. jjk

↬you ask Jungkook to draw you like one of his French girls. 

let it snow by @/suga-kookiemonster f s

↬it all started by accident, but it continues by choice—even before you began sleeping together, things with your friend taehyung have always been comfortable and easy. simple, and this new arrangement between you is certainly no exception to that rule. well...that's definitely what you thought before a major snowstorm traps the two of you in his apartment over the holidays. now? now, it is quickly becoming apparent that things are a bit more complicated than you realized.

muse by @/suga-kookiemonster f s

↬this could finally be tae’s big break, but he’s nervous and struggling to find inspiration. luckily, you’re willing to support him in all ways necessary.

falling, falling gone by @johobi f

↬Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You'll never tell him for fear of rejection. So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?

new tricks by @geniuslab f s

↬When your newly adopted puppy turns out to be a lot more work than you expected, a cute dog trainer comes to the rescue. You soon become friends, but you begin to realize friendship might not be all you want.

guns & roses by @chateautae f s

↬he was cold-blooded, stone-faced and ruthless; a formidable force anyone in the criminal underworld sought to destroy. and he didn’t care, so long as it was never you.. anything but you.

saudade by @chateautae f s a

↬a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it's time to find out why.

strands by @xjoonchildx s a

↬taehyung can't figure out how he got separated from his men, or how he ended up stranded in these woods -- hurt. the only thing he knows is that he has no choice but to rely on the beautiful, secretive stranger who's found him.

cheap skate by @/gukslut f s

↬Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting. 

definition of love by @taegularities f s a

↬When the gorgeous student from your literature class starts showing interest in you, you discover that there's much more to him than his know-it-all facade. But is this realization enough to get through your insecurities and secrets?

↬looking for other kth fics or the other members check out my library for more

[hintsofhoney]

Mine

Paring(s): Alpha!Dean Winchester x F!Omega!Reader

Summary: When Dean is forced to mark Y/N in order to not blow their cover on a case, it leads him to reveal a secret that he's been keeping since they met.

Square(s) Filled: biting for @anyfandomkinkbingo

Tags: 18+, true mates, smut, p in v, marking, a/b/o if that wasn't already obvious lmao, knotting

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Helloooo, it's been a minute. If I'm being honest, I have about 10-15 finished works just sitting in my "ready to post" folder, but posting is always such an ordeal, so they just stay there until I feel like dealing with Tumblr. But, this one I did write over the last two days after I finished reading Bride by Ali Hazelwood, which I loved so much that it made me want to dip my toes into the Omegaverse! That being said, I don't know how much in here is actually in line with A/B/O "rules", but I know I needed to twist some things to fit the story (e.g. in this specific A/B/O fic/universe, claiming marks will fade if they're not true mates). Huge thank you to my A/B/O girlies, @makeadealwithdean and @emoryhemsworth, for reading it over, I love you both to the moon and back! I hope you all enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST |  SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST |  MAIN MASTERLIST

“We get in, find the knife, get out, got it?” Dean asks, looking between Sam in the front seat and Y/N in the back, making sure everyone is on the same page. They both nod once in understanding, before the three of them make their way out of the car, their doors slamming shut simultaneously. 

Y/N stares up at the mansion before them, the music loud, the party raging. It’s some charity event thrown by the wealthiest Alpha in the state, and he just happens to have the weapon they need to finish out this hunt. Y/N stumbles a bit, tripping over the cobblestone driveway in her heels, and she catches the sleeve of Dean’s suit to steady herself. He shoots her a glare that tells her to pull it together. They need to blend in.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Here,” Dean replies, grabbing her wrist and pulling it through the crook formed by his bent elbow, forcing them to walk arm-in-arm.

“I don’t need –”

“You are an Omega, Y/N. And there are upwards of a hundred Alphas here who can all smell it. So what you need to do is start acting like one. Just because I’m not some asshole Alpha who demands your respect doesn’t mean they aren’t, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”

Y/N takes a deep breath and plasters on a fake smile as they move slowly up the driveway. “Anyone who demands my respect just because of some bullshit biological hierarchy doesn’t deserve it,” she grits out.

Dean stops, turning to face her, one of his hands on either side of her biceps. “Do you want to be on this case or not?” 

His voice is lower than usual, demanding and gruff. A voice he only uses when he wants to remind her that he is an Alpha, and bullshit biological hierarchy aside, her body is wired to listen to him. 

She gulps, and he tries not to focus on the bob in her throat, the pulse in her neck near her gland, the scent of her. The moment he met her he knew who she was, what they were. Are. He’s been taking scent blockers since before he met her, finding it far easier to interact with other Alphas when investigating cases if they couldn’t scent him out, but the moment he met her, he knew he had to start taking rut blockers too. Though, it feels like the longer he’s around her, the more immune he becomes to the pills. Like she’s going to send him into a rut any fucking second, and she has no idea. He’s thought about telling her so many times, but mates come with strings. Strings that aren’t conducive to the life of a hunter.

“Yes,” she answers his question meekly, almost submissively, and he nods to cover the hormones he forces himself to swallow down. Rejecting your biology is not easy, no matter how many pills you take.

“Then I’m going to need you to take my arm, put on a smile, and act like being an Omega is the greatest joy of your life. That means –”

“I know how to be a good little Omega, Dean,” she interrupts, dragging the words ‘good little Omega’ through a sarcastic tone.

He tenses slightly at her words, sarcastic or not. Good little Omega.

“I’m only bad for you,” she continues with a cheeky wink, and fuck, he might explode. Hell, he might take her into the bushes right now and mark her, claim her, before parading her around in front of this entire fucking party with his teeth marks on her neck. He’s rigid, trying to keep himself under control, and she gives him a playful pat on his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll be a good girl.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He gives her biceps a squeeze that he hopes comes off as reassuring as he’s trying to make it seem, before linking his arm with hers once more and catching up to Sam at the front of the driveway.

The trio is greeted by the owner of the mansion himself, one Jim Myers, who welcomes them in with a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand. 

“How Gatsby-esque,” Y/N mutters under her breath, watching as Myers shakes Sam’s hand.

Dean nods in agreement. “You definitely wore the right outfit.”

Y/N blushes as she looks down at her dress; a black, semi body-hugging cocktail dress bedazzled with gold sequins in some sort of art deco pattern. All she’s missing is a cigarette holder and a feather in her hair. 

“Only because I read the invitation. Unlike some of us,” she mumbles in reply.

“Watch it, Omega,” Dean grits out, plastering on a smile as soon as Myers comes over to greet him.

“Jim Myers, pleasure,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand.

“Dean. And this is Y/N.”

She keeps the cordial smile on her face as Jim takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before inhaling her scent. 

“Pleasure, Miss Y/N,” he says with a feral grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable lust as he lets her hand fall back to her side. 

Dean takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “Mine,” he practically growls, and Jim takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“My apologies. I didn’t see a mark, so I just assumed.”

Dean falters, clearing his throat, suddenly reminded of the reason they’re all here in the first place. “No, that’s alright. It’s my fault for not putting it in a visible place.” His eyes dart over to Y/N’s. “I think I’m gonna fix that.”

She ducks her head but can’t hide the red flush that creeps up into her cheeks, reminding herself that it’s just her biology, and that this is all for show anyway. They’re here to do a job, and sometimes those jobs involve… well, whatever the hell just happened. And clearly, Dean is a better actor than she gives him credit for.

Jim chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Well, you three have fun, the drinks are free, the food is good, and if you,” he points at Sam, “good sir, are in search of an Omega, there are plenty to choose from.”

Sam blushes. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks.”

And with that, Jim disappears into the crowd.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam says. “You two go. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. If I got the right blueprints.”

“If you got the right blueprints?” Dean asks.

“Just go.” He taps his ear to indicate that he’ll drop in on Dean’s earpiece if anything goes wrong. 

Dean sighs, taking Y/N by the hand and leading her up the stairs. He weaves in and out of the crowd, the scents of everyone mixing together, making it impossible to decipher who is what. Y/N’s never been more glad to be on heat suppressors; knowing full well the scents of this many Alphas invading her nostrils would send her body into a major one.

Dean quickly finds the door, and they slip into the room unnoticed, closing the barrier and switching on the light. It’s a bedroom — the master, from the looks of it — and the knife is right in front of them in the middle of the room, across from the foot of the bed. It’s in a glass case, on display, and likely armed with a million alarms, but right in front of them nonetheless. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about what the next move should be.

“We could find something that weighs the same? Lift the glass and replace it super fast?” Y/N offers.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s the glass that’s probably set to trip an alarm. But the fact that you’re applying Indiana Jones to real life scenarios is making me want to —” 

He stops himself, realizing what he was about to say. He needs to get himself under control but Y/N in that dress with her smart fucking mouth, with other Alphas eyeing her, he really shouldn’t be here, with her, alone, and —

“Making you want to what?” she asks.

Shit. “Making me want to… make you watch more of them,” he replies, opting to circle the display case, searching it for a way in to distract himself from her. 

“Oh, goody. Can’t wait.” She’s as monotone and sarcastic as ever, and every time something smart comes out of her mouth he has to resist the urge to bend her over and fuck her right then.

“Get out of there now,” Sam’s voice comes in on Dean’s earpiece. “Lost track of him for a few seconds, just found him again. He’s making his way upstairs.”

“Shit,” Dean says. “Shit, shit, shit.” He looks around the room frantically. If they go out the door, Myers will without a doubt see them leaving his room. “Myers is coming,” he explains to a confused-looking Y/N.

“Fucking — God dammit.” She looks around too, for a hiding spot, for a weapon, and then she spots herself in the mirror hanging on the wall and an idea comes to her. “Mark me,” she orders.

“What?” Dean snaps, his attention fully on her.

“Get over here and mark me. You told him you were going to make it visible.” She continues before Dean can protest. “Who knows if it’ll even stay, it’s not like we’re mates, right? And if it does, I don’t mind being bound to you for the rest of ever. It’s not like I’m having much luck in the relationship department anyway. But we need that knife, and we’re not going to get it if we don’t –”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath with a quick shake of his head, before he strides across the room and pushes her up against the wall just in time to hear the door click. He inhales her scent, his mouth trailing from the base of her jaw all the way down to her mating gland where it hovers as the door opens all the way. Then he bites down.

Y/N throws her head back, her fingers digging into Dean’s shoulders as his teeth sink into her, and none of it is for show. The pain is euphoric, and her senses heighten, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t been so stringent on taking her fucking pills, because whatever this feeling is, coursing through her veins, settling in her core, she needs to feel it more. She can’t stand how dulled it is, how it just stays there, simmering underneath the surface. She wants to erupt. 

“Mm, fuck, Alpha!” she cries out, no trace of sarcasm in her voice, and Dean’s hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise them. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jim exclaims. “Got an alert that someone was in here, there’s some very valuable things in here, you see, and I just wanted to make sure —”

Dean pulls away from her neck long enough to shoot him a glare that translates to “get out or I’m going to kill you”, and Jim gets the message, backing out the door and shutting it behind him. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, letting his forehead fall to Y/N’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be so close to her. He should back away, give himself some space to breathe. But her scent keeps him rooted in place. It’s her usual scent; something like freshly baked sugar cookies and vanilla, sweet and enticing, but there’s something else, something —

“Are you guys okay?” Sam’s voice in his damn ear again.

Dean lifts his head and presses the button on his earpiece to reply. “Fine, Sam. Give us a second.” Then he takes the earpiece out and tosses it over his shoulder, more agitated than he should be at his brother just trying to check in.

“Dean,” she breathes, and she sounds absolutely wrecked. She brings her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?” 

He nods. Her touch is like fire on his skin. He needs her. 

Y/N squeezes her thighs together. She’s never been able to scent Dean before, but he’s never been this close for this long. He’s never marked her, either. Right now his scent is breaking through the suppressants, little by little. It’s bits of cedar and leather and whiskey, and she’s never smelt anything like it, yet it is so familiar somehow. It invades her senses, and if this is what he smells like with suppressants, she’s terrified of what would happen without them.

“Dean… your scent.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

“Fuck, my pills must’ve worn off, I —”

She shakes her head. “It’s dulled but… but it’s there.” Her thighs clench together again, and she needs him back on her skin. “It’s there and it’s so fucking good.”

Dean’s eyes fall to the gland on her neck, and the severity of what he’s done comes crashing into him like a wrecking ball. It’s enough to force him to take a step away from her, panic rising in his chest. “I – fuck. I marked you. I fucking marked you.”

Y/N’s fingers come up to graze the indent on her neck, and she shudders at the touch. “I told you to.”

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N –”

“I know what happens when mates get marked, Dean,” she interrupts matter-of-factly. “I’m sure this’ll fade.”

“It won’t. I – I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck. Fuck!” He turns to the wall next to him, hitting it with the side of his closed fist. 

“Dean.” Her touch on his arm is gentle and comforting, but he doesn’t turn to face her. “You need to calm down. It’s really not a big deal, I –”

Dean takes a deep breath, both hands on the wall now as he collects himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at her when he says, “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

She takes a step back, and her fading scent is what makes him finally face her. She’s halfway across the room by the time he does. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he repeats.

She shakes her head, her hand coming to her neck again, the teeth marks seared into her skin. “N-no. H-how? When? How – how long have you known?”

Dean takes another long, deep breath. He could lose her tonight. She could run and never come back and he wouldn’t blame her. “Since we met.”

“THREE YEARS!?” she roars. “YOU’VE KNOWN FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!?”

“Y/N, I –”

She stalks toward him, one finger outstretched, one fist clenched by her side. She points at him as she backs him into a wall, and he’s incredibly turned on and incredibly scared at the same time. 

“You’ve known that we’re fucking mates for three years, and you didn’t feel as though that was pertinent fucking information to tell me!?”

Dean swallows. “I – it’s – there are… strings with mates. You know that. I didn’t want to ball and chain you. I didn’t want to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. And if – fuck – we’re hunters, Y/N. If something had happened to me, and you knew… I didn’t want you to have to live with that. With the pain that comes with losing a true mate.”

Y/N stops half a foot away and drops her accusatory finger. “What did you say?” she whispers.

“True… mates,” Dean breathes.

“We’re…? But… We never – I don’t –”

“With me on my pills, and you on your pills, I think it was enough to… so we just never…”

“But you knew,” she says, closing the gap between them, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “You knew for so long and you watched me go on dates, had to listen about the… things I did with other Alphas… if I had mated with one of them, you –”

“You deserved to have a choice. Regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to have a choice.” 

“My choice could’ve left you depressed and alone and celibate forever, you fucking dumbass.” 

He shrugs, and her hand falls to rest over his heart. She stares at it as she continues.

“When you… marked me… I felt… I don’t know what I felt. Nothing’s ever been so intense.”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiles softly.

“That’s the bond,” he explains, his large palm coming to rest over the hand on his chest. 

“And if we weren’t on… our blockers?”

“If we weren’t on our blockers, there’s no fucking telling how many pups we’d have running around by now.”

Y/N shivers as the thought of being bred settles in her core, and for once she’s not cursing her biology. Dean chuckles faintly at her reaction, dropping his forehead to hers. 

“We can practice in the meantime. Until you decide you want off of them.”

She inhales deeply, taking in as much of his scent as she can. “Oh, I –” another deep breath, “I’m getting off of them for sure.”

Dean lets out a borderline animalistic growl, thinking about how many times he’ll get to fuck her through that first heat. “I’m gonna stop taking my pills, too,” he says breathily.

“Yeah?”

“I had to get on rut blockers when you moved into the Bunker because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. But now,” he says, spinning them both around and pinning Y/N against the wall, “now I don’t fuckin’ have to.”

“Dean,” she half gasps, half moans. He kisses the mark on her neck before licking all the way up to her jaw line and pulling back. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Omega.”

She meets his feral gaze with one of her own, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Prove it.” 

And it might be an incredibly stupid thing to say to a horny Alpha, but it’s also Dean. And he’d never hurt her.

“Mm, fuck.” His voice is raspy and wrecked and they haven’t even done anything yet. Before Y/N can process what’s happening, he’s picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. He climbs over her, hovering for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, the warmth radiating off of her, her scent. “You’re beautiful,” he states plainly, like it’s the one fact in the world that he knows without a doubt to be true. 

Y/N blushes. “Thank you, Alpha.” She says it because she knows what it does to him. 

“You’re beautiful, and I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

A gasp leaves her lips as he pushes her dress up her hips and moves down her body to the foot of the mattress, his fingertips dancing along the hem of her panties before his eyes meet with hers. She gives him a nod, and it’s all the confirmation he needs before pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside. 

He watches hungrily as she spreads her thighs, her core damn near dripping with her wetness, and if this is what it’s like when she’s on heat blockers, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like covered in her slick. His cock grows hard in his slacks at the thought, and he has to step off the bed to take off his pants and boxers before the containment grows painful. He shrugs off his suit jacket and white dress shirt too, and when he’s standing in front of the bed, fully naked, Y/N is propping herself up on her elbows to take him in.

“Holy – fuck,” is all she can get out. 

Dean chuckles deeply, one knee coming up onto the mattress as he fists his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He looks her over again, pussy glistening, nipples peaked through her dress. “Fuck, I want you to – would you present for me?”

A smirk spreads across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything before flipping over and assuming the position. Ass up, legs shoulder width apart, chest resting on the mattress. 

Dean lets out a low and guttural, “Fuuuuck,” and it’s enough to make her pussy clench around nothing. She feels the mattress dip behind her, and when his cock starts to move through her folds, she almost cums right then and there. 

“I know you you wish you weren’t an Omega,” he starts, “but you’re a fuckin’ perfect one, baby.” 

She shakes her head, soft whimpers escaping her as he continues to tease her with his dick. “I’m glad I’m an Omega, because I’m yours.” 

With that, Dean loses what little self control he has left. He lines himself up with her entrance and sinks into her heat, and she feels so fucking perfect, the way she molds around his cock. The noises leaving her throat spur him on as he thrusts into her, setting a bruising pace. He wraps his hand around her shoulder for leverage, his other gripping her ass.

“Oh my fuck!” she practically screams, and he can feel how close she is, can smell it. 

“You’re gonna be a good little Omega and cum for me, aren’t you baby?” he pants, and he couldn’t be thrusting deeper if he tried.

She nods frantically. “Yesyesyes, please, Alpha, I wanna to cum. I wanna — mm, fuck — on your —”

She’s too fucked out to even finish her sentence, and Dean can feel himself about to fall over the edge. “What’s that, sweetheart? Speak up.”

“I wanna cum — oh, God! — on your knot. Fucking fill me up, Dean, please.”

He barely manages another thrust before he buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock swelling inside her as he pumps her full of his seed.

The feeling of him filling her sends her over the edge, her pussy clenching around his cock, his knot, and she feels so full and fucked and sated.

“Oh my fucking fuuuuck,” he groans, feeling her pulse around him. “Fuck, everyone and this fuckin’ party is gonna be able to smell me inside of you.”

She moans at his words.

“Gonna have me dripping down your thighs ‘til we get back home.” His hand squeezes the globe of her ass before he leans over, getting as close to her ear as he can. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again. And again. And again. Because we got three years to make up for.” He nips at her ear playfully. “And now you’re finally mine.”

[darnell-la]

Darkceo!logan and employer!fem-reader when he's using his power to control her fully as employer and plaything💯

pairing: dark!boss!logan howlett x employ!reader

warnings: controlling, unprofessional, threats, choking, hair pulling, sexual harassment, high power, forced creampie, rough sex, marking, baby trapping, etc.

note: I’ll be Logan’s slut coworker anytime.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Logan, I can’t stay after hours to help the kids in detention. I’ve got work to do myself,” y/n said after the man called her in his office. This was his third time within a week, making her stay back.

“Well, I’ve got paperwork, and need someone to watch the kids when I’m not looking,” the man fixed his glasses before looking back at the computer he was typing on.

“You’re in the same room as them — I’m sure they’re not gonna up and leave,” y/n tried convincing the man to let her go, but that wasn’t happening, just like the other nights.

“When I tell something once, I expect you to listen, y/n. Don’t make me tell you again,” the man had looked up at the girl.

Y/n stood in the middle of the man’s office, wanting to fight for some kind of break, but last time he had scared her into staying.

“Yes, sir,” the young lady said before turning around and walking off. She could see the smirk on the older man after her sentence. He owned her, and she had no one to go to and tell.

“Y/n, stay back — We need to talk,” Logan said after y/n dismissed detention for the kids. Some laughed as others ran out, ready to do whatever teenage mutants did at this time of night.

“Mister Howlett, I really need to get to my own work-“ she tried saying. “Don’t start,” the man cut her off at the end of her sentence. The way he always looked over his glasses, made her shut up in an instant.

The class was finally empty. Logan stood outside of the door, waiting for all of his students to leave before closing and locking his classroom door.

“You’re the best teacher I’ve got, y/n, but your attitude — It ain’t pretty,” Logan finally turned around, eyes burning into hers. She didn’t want to get fired. She’s done everything he’s asked, but she could feel something coming.

“Ima need you to work after hours right here with me. Confused it a mild punishment for your recent behaviors,” he said, confusing the girls.

“Mister Howlett, I’ve donen’t everything you’ve asked me to for days. If I don’t get my own work done, I can fall behind. The stress isn’t good for teaching,” she tried telling the man.

Logan walked toward the girl, letting her talk for once until he stood right before her.

“I know you love this job, y/n, but you will lose it if you don’t obey me,” the man said. Obey? “Logan, this isn’t some kind of joke. I can’t be around you all day and night for no reason. I have papers myself,” y/n tried standing her ground, but it was hard. His gaze intimidated her.

“Then take ‘em down here for now on. Don’t argue with me anymore,” the man looked down at her as she rolled her eyes. He didn’t like that.

“Look-“ Logan said as his hand raised, gripping the girl's neck out of nowhere. “I don’t know who the fuck told you, you can act a certain way towards me — But I’d advise you to cut that shit out,” he said.

When the girl didn’t give a response and just looked up at the man, he dragged her until her body was pinned against the cold thick wooden walls.

“You think I’m a joke, Bub? I’ll fire you right now. I don’t give a fuck how important you are to my school. I’ll fire you and throw you out tonight,” the man threatened as his body pressed against her.

“So as I said, cut the fuckin’ attitude, before I do it for you,” another threat was made. “You can’t just-“ y/n tried saying. “I can’t just what? Hm!?” Gripped her neck tighter, waiting for her to tell him what he couldn’t do with her.

“Y-You can’t just do this, Logan. I have a job to do, just like you, and you’re getting in my way. Y-You’re distracting me,” she finally said.

She had been trying to tell the man for weeks now, but every time, he’d threaten the woman’s job. It was unprofessional of him shaking up in her room one night, and telling her she needed to come to her rooms at times and work. She didn’t know what the man's problem was, and she was scared to ask.

“Oh, I’m distracting?” He asked in a low voice which slightly came out as a growl. He couldn’t help but smirk and scan the young lady. She looked so good like this.

“Maybe I am too — Those lips aren’t very easy to ignore,” he said, face coming close to hers. Once his hot breath hit her skin, her heart dropped and reality hit her. This man has been hitting on her…

“M-Mister Howlett,” the girl spoke, earning a groan from the man. “Yes, princes?” He asked as one knee moved in between her leg, pushing until he grazed her clothes folds.

Y/n regretted listening to the man when he demanded her to look more professional by wearing skirts and dressed to teach.

“T-This is unprofessional,” she said, instantly making the man laugh as he tilted his head back. “God, you’re so fuckin’ dumb. Lucky me, I like ‘em that way,” the man said before he slowly leaned at her neck.

The young girl whined softly, her heart rate raising as her boss sucked on her neck. “L-Logan,” she pushed at his shoulders softly, but what would that do? He was stronger and wanted this.

The man growled in her neck, loving the way his name rolled from her tongue. “L-Logan, stop this,” y/n pushed harder at the man’s shoulders, but all he did was laugh at her skin.

Y/n’s eyes filled with tears as she noticed her cunt throb on his thigh. She was growing wet as well, and she knew he knew that.

After Logan realized how much she was leaking, he pulled her off of the wall by her hair, pulling her over to his desk. “Be a good coworker, and spread for me,” the man pushed her down onto his desk, almost breaking it.

“Ow, Logan,” the girl whined. He loved how venerable she was. The girl wasn’t a mutant, so she knew he was too strong for her. He loved the power he had over her as a mutant and boss.

Y/n repeatedly begged the man to let her go, telling him she’d do whatever he wanted from now on with no attitude, but all he said was “Ima get that anyway,”.

Logan pulled the girl's tight dress up, eyes filling with darkness as he saw her wet spot. “Fuckin’ slut got wet on the job,” the spat before ripping them off clean.

“P-Please, Logan,” y/n begged again, legs already shaking from the fear in her body. She’s never been with a mutant, and having her boss be the first, isn’t professional of her. She can’t do this.

“Don’t worry, Bub — Gonna fill this cunt right up. Give her what she needs,” he made up his own thoughts on what y/n wanted as he pulled himself out, stroking until he felt pre cum leak from his tip.

Logan knew the young lady wasn’t on birth control. He made her sign work papers, having that down as one of the questions. She didn’t think of it at first because she just wanted a job. A normal job, but now she knows it’s not so normal.

Logan forcefully pushed at the girl's entrance, making her grip his table. He was huge, and he hadn’t even filled her to the brim yet.

“L-Logan, please!” She begged as tears slipped from her eyes. The man groaned as he slipped into her walls, feeling the instant warmth and grip. “Fuck,” he couldn’t keep in. He’s been waiting on this for a while.

L-Logan,” the girl's cracked voice filled the room as he pushed all the way into her. She felt full. She felt pain. She felt pleasure. He knew she liked this deep down.

“Ah huh, baby — You like it?” He asked as he slowly pulled back before pushing back in. Y/n’s body went stiff at the length he was. He was too deep, and he loved it.

“T-Too much, Logan,” she cried low, gripping his desk harder. “I know, Bub, but whose fault was that for not being nicer to me? I would’ve trained you with my fingers, but you’ve been pissin’ me off lately,” Logan leaned over y/n, rubbing at her cheeks.

“Got me so fuckin’ angry, but all I could think about if fuckin’ it out. All out, into you,” the snap on his hips made the girl yelp. “So, you’re gonna lay here, and fuckin’ take it — professionally,”

Logan couldn’t help himself. He tugged on the girl's hair and gripped the side of her waist, pulling her into every hard thrust he could give. He knew the screws on the table were loosening, but he’ll fix it later.

“Can’t walk around here this tight and think I don’t want a taste, baby. Gonna be havin’ this cunt whenever I want, and however I want from now on,”

Y/n’s cunt was finally stretched and wet, good enough for Logan to slip into her with ease, but still rough enough to punish her. He neared to use the power he had over her, and he was.

“For now on, you’re in my room. Don’t need you unsupervised when you’re this tight,” the sounds of y/n’s juice filled the room as he talked. She couldn’t control her system. She was leaking worse than before. “And leave the panties alone. Need ease access in what’s mine,”

The girl's cunt throbbed at his words, not knowing why, but she knew she was fucked. If she tried telling anyone she didn’t want this after knowing the knot in her stomach getting harder to hold, they’d laugh in her face.

“Petty girls gonna cum, hm? Well, that ain’t so professional of you, ain’t it? Tellin’ me how unprofessional I am, but you’re about to cum on my jeans like the whore of the night,”

Y/n tried holding herself back, angry that he read her like a book, but she soon failed. She came all over his lower body, making the sounds of his thrust louder and more sloppy.

“That’s it, baby — Cum in my cock, and I might give you a raise,” he chuckled as he felt himself eat close. Y/n felt horrible. She clenched around the man after he mentioned a raise. That could only mean she was fine with this, as long as she got paid.

“Gonna have to save after the baby forms in your stomach. Can’t have my pretty girl workin’ too hard,” a whine left the girl's mouth. A very sexual moan that made him know she wanted this. Deep down, she couldn’t hide it. She couldn’t hide how good he was fucking the life out of her.

“That’s it, baby — Keep moaning like that, and Ima put a village in this sweet cunt,” the man said between his teeth, now slamming into her. His thrust was brutal, knowing the wind and trapped moans from her mouth any time his pelvis slapped her ass.

“Fuck, yes, baby. Grip me — Grip me and show me you want it,” the man's cock twitched in her walls, warning her, he was close. Before he could say another teasing sentence, he was cut off by his groans as he filled the girl up.

He spilled in her for what felt like hours, pushing his cock deeper into her cunt to make sure one of them would be a winner.

[lucyandthepen]

salted caramel | lmh ( m )

you hadn’t been aware that mark’s jealousy followed the rules of baseball — three strikes, and he snaps?

read the first part here!

pairing: barista!bf!mark x reader verse: college!au rating: r warnings&tags: unprotected sex, mentions of creampies (although not an actual one), hickeys, possessiveness and jealousy, exhibitionism, sort of phone sex in conjunction with said exhibitionism, oral (m!receiving), mark has an understated but unending obsession with mc’s stomach, tummy bulges, we always love an implicit bigdick!mark, donghyuck is kind of a little shit and basically he has to cross a few lines for this “plot” to get to where it gets word count: 20.3k

a/n: this is a bit rushed and panicked because I basically wrote it in a feverish 2.5ish days… i’m so sorry that the pacing might be a little off, especially since I can never tell if it’s actually too fast or not. this is also unedited and unbeta’d but oh well because i never edit my stuff before posting and just re-edit when I re-read! regardless, i hope it’s something that you can enjoy, and i couldn’t pick between sweetest bf ever!mark and hottest mf ever!mark, so i guess you get a little bit of both!

if you liked it, please consider reblogging to support (especially because this may get flagged for mature content)!

You should have noticed it the first time, but in your overall defense, you find most things that you take note of about Mark Lee to be more on the highly positive and greatly endearing side — or, maybe, you just have a tendency to paint him in that kind of light.

You can’t really help it; he’s still got that halfway shy, softly adoring look in his eyes whenever he sees you, which is more often now than ever before, and you just can’t do anything but reciprocate, if only to see his eyes grow a little brighter. You wonder if Mark’s aware that if this were a Shakespearean scenario, you’d easily fall on your sword for him without question, for as long as he asked, but you don’t think there’s any pressing need to remind him — not with the way you spend most of your free time figuring out ways to be with him. You’re certain he should know, what with the fact that every time he looks at you, even just a glimpse, your gaze is always on him, ready to make eye contact whenever he turns his head — something he often acknowledges with one of those signature blushes that spread like wildfire across his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears.

It also should be unmistakably clear that you’re head over heels for him, given how at least once a week, he’s got his face buried between your legs in an attempt to hear the thing he wants you to say the most (see: his name, in varying pitches and decibels) — but if he doesn’t notice then, you can’t hold it against him; Mark’s mouth is so attentive that you doubt his mind is anywhere else apart from what inch of you his tongue is going to meet next in that moment. At least, that much is true for you.

He should at least know, what with you waiting for his classes to end so you can walk to Starbucks for his afternoon shift; you even race the twenty-minute distance to the Department of Mathematics, still holding your European Renaissance History textbook from your last lecture, just to make sure you’re there right as he gets out — a fact he has to know is an act of devotion, considering how often he finds you heaving for air and leaning your back against the brick wall outside the Accounting 150 Lab. Even his professor knows you as Mark Lee’s admirer, which is all well and good, but if you had the breath to spare, you’d correct his terminology for accuracy. Girlfriend. You’re Mark Lee’s girlfriend.

It’s a fact you don’t mind reminding him of but that you actually have to do quite often, because when you call Mark the appropriate counterpart — boyfriend — his eyes still widen, like he’s hearing it for the first time. It’s cute, just like everything else about him. You just have to wonder, at times, if he doesn’t believe you.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter; you’ll just keep telling him.

You don’t have any classes with Mark this semester, which is a shame, considering your favorite pastime over the last few months had just been to stare at his side profile and wish he’d look over so you could kiss him, but the fact that you spend almost every day with him now, using that time to remind him of how much you want to kiss him and actually getting it to do it right then and there, pretty much more than makes up for your previous schedule of daydreaming.

However, hanging out with him doesn’t always mean you’re just with him; you came to learn this after the first week of the new semester, and you’ve now gotten used to the fact that with Mark Lee sometimes comes his band of tall, often loud friends.

The loudest by far is Lee Donghyuck, the mysterious figure last semester that you’d only known by one syllable, now easily recognizable (and no longer enigmatic by any means to you) by his booming voice and even more demanding personality. He’s supremely outgoing, a trait you can’t say you mind, but there’s an interesting contrast between Mark, who tends to say things after carefully considering his ideas, and Donghyuck, who seems to just burst out in fits of impulsive rambling that often leads to some kind of semi-structured debate. It kind of gives you whiplash, in a funny, slightly perplexing way.

The whole friend group likes to meet up at Starbucks while Mark is on his shift, and now that they’ve come to know you as that girl Mark didn’t teach a single thing in College Algebra to but still somehow got lucky with (something you’ve wasted immense efforts into correcting but have ultimately failed to do so), you now find yourself sitting with them, all somehow waiting for who appears to be the nucleus of this group to stop taking coffee orders and hang up his (cute, but you’re the only one that thinks so, actually) green apron.

Again, you don’t mind it; new people aren’t an issue to you, and you’re also interested in finding out more about Mark through those closest to him. You get to see the few ways they’re alike in contrast to the staggering number of things that make them amusingly different from one another. Despite the broad spectrum of their intersecting interests, you’ve come to learn, through the conversations you’ve had to sit through over the last month, that they have varying opinions on said interests. For instance, you know they’re all into video games, Japanese manga, and long-winding fantasy movies, but every conversation takes flight the moment there’s even a spark of dissent from one person — and the source, usually (and quite unfortunately), is Lee Donghyuck himself.

Today is no exception.

“Dude, you’re crazy,” Zhong Chenle practically seethes. Whether by sheer coincidence or actual desire, he’s the one who most often finds himself staring Donghyuck down, trying to bend the latter’s will into admitting defeat. Donghyuck, on the other hand, has mastered the art of looking supremely unperturbed, especially when Chenle is in the heat of his rage. “The ninth was the worst, hands down.”

“Art and rendering were so solid.” Donghyuck raises a finger, and you’re not sure if it’s to start off a list or to shut Chenle up. You don’t want to ask, anyway, too busy finding amusement in the shifting expressions of despair, rage, anguish, and murderous intent on the latter’s face to speak up. You presume that’s why everyone else isn’t stopping them — or maybe they’re just preparing their own defenses and points to raise. “Intuitive combat and flawless combo chains. The fucking open world? Which other installment in the franchise offers that much depth in the gameplay?”

“Depth? Do you even hear yourself right now?” Chenle grips his head so tightly that when he pulls his hands away, there are actual red marks across his forehead and temple, and his bangs are askew. “What kind of depth comes from cloned movesets? The character designs are so stupidly traditional too. And—”

“There’s a unique kind of beauty in familiarity.”

“The open world was a disaster,” Chenle plows on. “It was so empty, and the map was the farthest thing from intuitive. It’s quite literally the worst thing KOEI has ever done. That’s exactly why they went back to the limited map strategy in later installments. Even the spin-offs.”

“I thought the grappling and ambush systems were pretty intuitive. Ingenious, even.”

It’s a singularly amusing sight — Chenle is one insult to his pride away from imploding, and Donghyuck is just checking the dirt under his nails like he’s waiting in line to take his school ID photo. Park Jisung, one of the quieter ones in the bunch, tries to diffuse the tension by clearing his throat and going ‘I actually really liked the Age Of Calamity Zelda one they released with all the different campaigns,’ but that just goes unnoticed by either party.

“You once failed an ambush play just because you were stuck behind a wall you couldn’t scale. Don’t say shit about the ambush and grappling mechanics.”

“Unlike some people sitting around this table, I learn from my mistakes. That’s also probably why some people — not naming names — just can’t appreciate the artistic beauty that is Dynasty Warriors 9.”

Donghyuck doesn’t even look up from his cuticles when Chenle explodes.

“You’re fucking impossible!”

“Can you guys relax?” Lee Jeno, who had somehow miraculously found the space and silence in the breaths between the entire argument to doze off, opens one eye, only slightly irate. “You’re making a scene over a dead game franchise.”

“It’s not dead; they’re on hiatus,” both Chenle and Donghyuck chime in together, apparently finding a moment of unique solidarity to shoot Jeno down before going back to glaring daggers at each other. Jeno shrugs, gives everyone else at the table an I tried kind of exasperated expression, and settles back into his seat, the one eye already closing before he’s fully folded his arms across his chest.

Your eyes wander away from the group over to the counter. You’re thankful for the fact that most of the time, you just get invited to share a table with them without necessarily being trapped in the middle of a conversation — especially one as heated as the one Chenle is prolonging while jabbing his finger accusingly at Donghyuck, as if he’s trying to pin a crime on the latter instead of just explaining why Donghyuck’s opinion is ‘borne of ignorance.’ When they’re all caught up in their business like this, you end up being able to revel in your more or less unobstructed view of Mark behind the barista’s station, where he’s busy piping an extra helping of whipped cream on top of a strawberry frappuccino for a kid that’s already jumping up and down next to the pick-up station.

The biting winter had already given way to the first signs of spring, and the Starbucks Mark works at has a supremely effective central heating system that allows people to shed their coats. This works in your favor, considering Mark wears nothing but a button-up shirt over his apron while he works, and he’s got this habit of rolling up his sleeves so they don’t catch any stains. You’re pretty sure he has a second motive, though; surely, he’s aware of how the view of his arms, muscles tightening under his skin whenever he even lightly grips something, drives you crazy. You’d bet a month’s allowance he’s doing it on purpose so that you start entertaining the thought of yelling at everyone in the branch to fuck off so you can grab him by the front of his stupid shirt so you can kiss his stupid face. Or ride it.

And for some inexplicable reason, he still has the audacity to act like there’s nothing amiss. When he looks up at you right after pushing the frappuccino towards the little girl, his eyes still brighten, almost innocent in their gaze, the corners of his lips turning up surreptitiously, hiding the smile he seems to save for only you from everyone else in the room.

You smile back, but when he turns away to take someone’s order, you let out a heavy sigh and take a long sip of your vanilla sweet cream cold brew until you start reaching the last dregs of it under the ice. Your brain pretty much cries out in protest, but you know it deserves as much as a mental cold shower for entertaining the thought of asking him to bend you over the counter at five-thirty in the afternoon in a Starbucks.

Stupid Mark. Stupid brain. Stupid fucking people in the room.

The warm breath in your ear alerts you to a slowly approaching presence, but you don’t have the reflexes to turn back to its source before it starts talking.

“Got anything to add to either of our cases, ___________?”

“What?” Your palm comes up to rub your ear as Donghyuck pulls away, laughing lightly. You’re sucked back into the foreground of the conversation, but you’re just as lost now as you had been before you started tuning them out in favor of your lust. “Uh — no. Sorry. To be honest, I know nothing about… sorry, what were you guys talking about again?”

“See, that’s how normal people act,” Jeno grumbles, both his eyes flying open this time. “Instead of hosting a presidential debate about Dynasty Warriors.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” You’re quick to add, and Jeno looks mildly amused at your attempt to still mollify the rest of the group. “I’m sure I would have liked it. If, you know, I actually had been introduced to it at any point in my life.”

“And if you had, I’m sure you’d have the taste to assert alongside me that the seventh installment was revolutionary,” Chenle sniffs, but he’s looking more pointedly at Donghyuck, who’s still ignoring him, save for the fact that he’s now looking at you instead of at his nails (which doesn’t feel like such a great upgrade).

“Nah, she’d be on my side. ___________ looks like she’d appreciate a good, scenic open world and grappling system. Right?”

“Uh…” you say smartly.

“Man, shut up.” Chenle throws his hands in the air before he stands up, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushes it back with astounding force. “Got me so pissed off I need to pee now.”

You have no idea what the correlation is between getting annoyed and needing to use the bathroom, but even if you wanted to bring up your doubts — which you don’t — Chenle is long gone before you can get your thoughts together. It’s only when he’s out of earshot that Donghyuck leans in, almost conspiratorially, to whisper to you again.

“Actually, I think the ninth sucks too. But isn’t it kind of funny how worked up that fucker gets?”

“To be honest, I’ve never known anyone with quite your talent in riling people up,” you admit, and even though you’re not sure what kind of meaning you want attached to that, you notice that he decides to take it as a compliment all on his own, his chest puffing out in pride. “Too bad I have no idea which opinion is really right, or I’d weigh in, too.”

“Not a Dynasty Warriors kind of girl, then?”

“No one is, Hyuck,” Jeno snorts, shaking his head. “You two are the only people I know who still played that past the fifth installment.”

“Fair. I nurture a love for old franchises.” Donghyuck leans back, looking supremely satisfied at how he’s managed to tick off one of his most important ‘to-do’ points of the day. “So what’s your poison, ___________?”

“What’s that mean?”

“You a Gardenscapes kind of girl? Tekken? Maybe you like some good ol’ fashioned LoL?”

“I honestly don’t have the hand-eye coordination to play,” you confess. “I know Mark likes to play PUBG from time to time. I mostly just sit and ask questions, though. The few times I tried playing with him, I swear any normal person would’ve cried. He had to babysit me like crazy. It was a miracle he didn’t throw me out.”

“She even tries to play with him,” Donghyuck whistles lowly. “Dude, how’d Mark get a chick like you?”

“Meaning?”

“You’re way too good for that dope.” His laugh is light and good-natured. “Never thought a moony-eyed weirdo like him would actually wind up with his dream girl — which he’s called you, more than once, by the way. Fucking disgusting, but… I get it. Doesn’t make it less crazy or weird to hear, though.”

“Sorry to put you through that.” You smile, using your straw to stir the contents of your cup. A warmth spreads through your shoulders and down your arms to the tips of your fingers as you digest what Donghyuck’s just said to you, and you find your eyes trailing back to Mark, who’s pulling off his apron. His eyes are already fixed on you, and when you lock gazes, he mouths a wait for me that makes you want to squeeze the life out of something in pure joy. You settle for a soft sigh. “I guess it won’t help if I say your friend over there’s my dream guy.”

“It absolutely will not,” Donghyuck groans, faking a gagging noise that has you laughing. “But tell you what — if you ever get tired of Mark playing PUBG and ignoring you like the clown he is, I’ll find you someone else more your speed.”

“No thanks,” you snort, taking the last sip of your drink. “More than that, I’d just want to be some kind of helpful to him if I ever play with him again.”

“We can help you with that too,” Jisung volunteers. “Jeno taught me the basics. I’m sure he can teach you too.”

“Yeah, and I’m guessing you’d be a better student than mister “how come you didn’t tell me I had to focus the crosshairs myself” over here,” Jeno chuckles, surreptitiously pointing at Jisung when you cast him a questioning look.

“I’m pretty good at sneak attacks myself.” Donghyuck makes a show of pretending to slice your neck before grinning smugly. “We’ll take care of you. Mark won’t know what hit him next time.”

“What’s happening to me next time?”

You feel Mark before you see him, his hand landing on your head lightly and smoothing your hair back in an idle, gentle motion to announce his presence. You look up at him, already beaming, and he returns the favor as his hand settles on your shoulder.

“We were just talking about replacing you. Both as a friend and as a boyfriend, for your poor little dream girl here who’s just too nice to turn you down.” Donghyuck lies like it’s second nature; you wonder if that’s a Finance major thing or just a him thing.

“And you’re offering that to someone who didn’t ask for it?” Mark snorts, nudging Chenle’s bag over so he can sit in the empty spot.

“She’s so caught up in your sticky little web that she can’t struggle against you.” Donghyuck feigns a heavy sigh that suggests he feels sorry for you before he puts a hand on your free shoulder, shaking his head in a convincing kind of pity. “I’ll save you, so don’t worry. Mark can’t keep his grubby hands on you forever. Whenever you need to be saved, I’ll come a-running to free you.”

There’s a tightness on one shoulder that disrupts the balance of your torso, and you find yourself leaning closer to Mark. Your hand finds its way to his knee, giving it a light squeeze under the table, and his grip loosens by a fraction. Donghyuck’s as quick to let go as he is to hang on.

“We were just talking about PUBG,” you correct, and Mark’s eyes snap to you. “I was asking for help — you know, so I won’t drag you down the next time I join in?”

“I don’t mind whatever you do in-game.” He’s quick to comfort you, even if you don’t actually need it, but it feels warm and cold “I’m just glad you wanna try it with me.”

“No, but I kind of want to learn too. So it can be fun for both of us. Also so you don’t have to keep avenging me after five minutes,” you laugh. Mark cracks a smile then, and you don’t realize his expression had been slightly harder until it softens under your gaze.

“Then I’ll teach you next time.”

“No, I want to surprise you with how cool I get. And then next time, I’ll even beat you.” You turn to Donghyuck, slightly unsure. “Uh… I can beat him, can’t I?”

“If you play different teams, yeah,” he confirms. “Trust me. I’ll help you kick his ass.”

“Or we’ll both kick yours,” Mark chuckles, his grasp now tightening and loosening intermittently. He’s massaging your shoulder lightly, and you end up sinking deeper into his side. You don’t miss the slightly nauseated amusement that passes across Donghyuck’s face nor the way he mouths ‘sap’ to Mark, who ignores this comment in its entirety.

“Yo, hotpot at seven? Renjun’s asking,” Chenle announces as he returns to your table, his phone in one hand and a crumpled paper towel in the other. “Jaemin can’t make it, though. Study group or whatever shit he always says.”

“I’m down,” Donghyuck immediately replies, and Chenle’s eyes shoot heavenward, like he’s already asking for the divine strength to not sock Donghyuck in the face later.

“Can’t,” Jeno yawns, both his arms outstretched as he tries to move the sleep out of his spine. “Pre-test tomorrow.”

“Dude, it’s a pre-test,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to study if they’re just testing how much you know before studying.”

“Gotta study all the same.”

“I gotta pass too,” Jisung looks actually apologetic. “I promised my mom I’d help her move some stuff to my aunt’s place tonight.”

“Boring,” Chenle grumbles before turning to the both of you. “Lovebirds?”

“Rain check,” Mark shakes his head. “Family dinner. My brother’s home for the weekend. How about Monday instead? Most of us can’t make it anyway. At least Jaemin doesn’t have study group either.”

“If that’s even what that weirdo’s doing,” Chenle sighs, already punching in a message to send to Renjun. “Fine; I’ll ask about Monday. You guys better actually reply to the goddamn group chat. I can’t coordinate in six different private chats ever again.”

“You can put my name down already,” Mark casts you a sideway glance, and you nod immediately. “Two names, actually.”

“I’m good on Monday too. When we see each other again, I’ll bring some prospects for you to sift through,” Donghyuck adds to you, and you laugh. “Cool guys. Jocks. I know this upperclassman all the girls say is really hot. I think I still have his Messenger from when we did a group discussion last semester.”

“I’ll have Mark look at them so he can reject them all for me,” you promise. Donghyuck feigns affront before looking at Mark in utter disbelief.

“How the fuck did you snag a girl like this, man?”

“I’m pretty sure she once told me I… what did you say?” Mark glances at you amusedly. “I had some moves, I guess.”

“You mean stutter and blush in her presence?” Donghyuck can’t decide how to look at you without being even the slightest bit offensive; he just settles on incredulity. “And that won you over?”

“Most powerful move in the Mark Lee playbook,” you shrug, grinning. “Had me from the first ‘um,’ and he’s had me ever since.”

“You lucky son of a bitch,” Donghyuck snorts, and neither of you misses the slightly abashed but unmistakable smugness in Mark’s face when you lean in to rest your head on his shoulder.

The second time it happens is on that Monday, in a far more noticeable capacity. You just aren’t quick enough to read the signs, as usual.

But in your defense (again), it hadn’t felt all that significant.

“Fuck, this is spicy,” Na Jaemin sucks air in through his teeth and lets it out in a sharp whistle that’s broken by a laugh that’s not necessarily at anything funny. Maybe he’s just laughing at the sheen of sweat across his forehead that he has to wipe off with the other side of his napkin.

Miraculously, the hotpot plan pushes through, with no small amount of effort in coordination on Chenle’s part; he’d even texted you just to make sure he’d gotten the head count right, despite the fact that Mark had already confirmed your attendance twice over. Even the often elusive Na Jaemin, who always seems to have one or another study group to attend on most nights, manages to come and is currently busy mixing his peanut sauce in his little bowl with such vigor that you can’t help but wonder if he’s not trying to drown the mala-flavored strips of meat in it completely.

“That’s why I said you need a bowl of water for dipping, you dimwit,” Donghyuck points his chopsticks at Jaemin’s messy plate in a way you can only describe as nagging, even if that’s actually impossible. “You’ve got super mala breath now.”

“Don’t know about me, but I can smell yours all the way from over here,” Jaemin quips back with an easy kind of nonchalance, hastily ducking the balled-up napkin that goes flying across the table. It lands on the floor behind his chair harmlessly.

It’s nice, you think, that Mark’s friends like to invite you to their outings now; despite all the jokes they’ve made at his expense, they’ve been consistently open to having you around. You’re not necessarily the type of couple that acts in a way that disgusts people into moving to a completely different table anyway, and you allow their conversations to unfold easily without ever interrupting, so you think that this arrangement works for all parties involved.

They’re even louder outside Starbucks, you’ve come to note; the restaurant is significantly busier than the cafe anyway, filled with people on their company dinners, so Mark’s friends all seem to want to rival that boisterous energy. Weirdly, you like it, even when they’re already half off their seats and one (Chenle) is just about to strangle the other (Donghyuck). The laughter flows freely, and there’s a messiness to the whole affair that makes it impossible to feel uncomfortable.

Even Mark pipes in occasionally, offering his opinion on topics he knows much more about than you, and you can’t help but admire how everyone listens to him when he starts to speak, even if he has nothing realistically important to say. His friends might find it odd that you’d been so drawn to him, but they just don’t know that even they’re victims of Mark’s natural magnetism, also falling quiet and eager to hear his voice, his light-hearted laugh, in response to the things they say.

But even when he’s mostly distracted by conversation, there’s a part of him that continuously pays attention to you in his own way. He nudges his ginger and soy sauce bowl towards you with the side of his wrist so you can dip your beef in, even if you’d adamantly declined him giving you your own bowl of it in the first place (you’d always thought you were peanut sauce or nothing kind of girl, but one sneaky venture into Mark’s sauce proved you wrong). His hand hovers over your head when you drop your chopsticks and bend over to pick them up from where they’ve rolled under the table, making sure you’re bump-free when you resurface.

And his palms always, always settle somewhere on you, no matter what he’s doing. If one hand is busy feeding himself, the other is intent on warming your thigh, passing over the denim in slow, steady strokes. His fingers tickle your knee when you laugh, just to make you laugh a little harder — you’d even almost kneed the table at one point, much to Huang Renjun’s alarm. But the most common place for his arm is around you, fingers lightly bunched into the side of your shirt, like he’s worried loosening his grip on you further will cause you to vanish. It keeps him close to you, keeps his scent and warmth washing over you in gentle waves, so much so that you often have to remind yourself that he’ll be the target of much light-hearted mockery if you so much as lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder.

But it’s hard to resist it, especially when his hand seems to be intent on outlining every curve on that side, passing over your hip and dipping into your waist. The motion allows him to slowly but surely lift the fabric of your shirt, up until there’s just enough of an opening for his palm to slip under, and suddenly it’s much warmer on that side, with the light roughness of his hand grazing at your skin. His fingers always stretch apart, like he’s trying to feel as much of you as he can, and the pads of his digits have a tendency to graze the plane of your stomach — his nails sometimes even travel featherlight just next to your navel, etching out words you can’t really decipher. Like he’s writing a message just for you.

It makes you feel like no matter what he’s doing, a part of his mind is always on you.

“You guys want to see that new horror movie? The Ghost Within, I think it’s called,” Jisung asks the group from over at the other end of the table, having to raise his voice significantly to make sure it isn’t swept away by the raucous laughter from across the restaurant. “I think it’s coming out in a week or two.”

“I’d be okay with it,” Renjun shrugs, although he doesn’t look enthused. “Kind of looks like a cliche horror with all those cheap jump scares and shit, but I’m down if you all are.”

A wave of assent passes over the group in general, but you notice Mark doesn’t immediately respond. You take this opportunity to lean in and confess your stance.

“If I have to sit around and watch a ghost pop out at me from a big-ass movie screen, you may never again see me in the same wonderful light you do today,” you warn. “Remember me as I am, not as I will be, Mark Lee.”

He snorts, coughing lightly as a mixture of ginger and fishcake sticks in his throat. “Yeah — we’ll pass, I think.”

“Scaredy-cat,” Donghyuck teases, and you’re surprised that Mark doesn’t come to his own defense. There’s something romantic in him not wanting to be the one to sell you out, but you suppose there’s also a kind of chivalry in being the one to take the bullet.

“Actually, I’m the one who can’t handle it well,” you smile in apology. “Sorry. I don’t have much of a reputation, so to speak, but what elegance may be attached to my name, however misplaced, is something I really want to maintain. At least until I graduate.”

“In short, you don’t want Mark to see you scream and cry,” Chenle deduces. You can’t even find fault in him figuring it out so quickly.

“Bingo.”

“Well, we can solve the problem,” Donghyuck claps his hands, getting everyone’s attention for no good reason. “__________, you sit beside me, and Mark can sit on the far end of the row. With how dark it is, he won’t see anything, and I get to sit next to a cute girl in a movie theater. Win-win.”

“Thanks for the offer,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But it’s not a win-win if I accidentally grab your hand out of instinct.”

“It is to me,” Donghyuck winks, and you feel Mark’s hand stop brushing over your stomach. His fingers curl in lightly, almost like he’s trying to make a fist but can’t quite get to that point out of personal restraint. “Or better yet, you could do what we all think you should do and dump Mark for someone you won’t be ashamed to cry in front of. I, for one, would not even bother to comment on whatever emotions you’re going through in the middle of a movie, so what do you say? It’s a pretty sweet deal, in my humble opinion. Me versus Mark Lee. The showdown of the century, right here in Hai Di Lao.”

You’ve noticed that the more Donghyuck piles onto his little teasing rampage, the more forcefully Mark tugs you over; his fingers aren’t just skimming over your skin but have now grown into the habit of gently pinching it, as if begging for your attention. It feels nice but also a little urgent, although it’s hard for you to understand why; the whole foundation of this group is built on teasing each other until someone (Chenle) snaps and lobs a bottle cap at someone else (Donghyuck), so it should be normal for Mark to be at the receiving end of some light banter.

“Should we ask the hostess to referee the match, then?” You ride along with the joke.

“No way. You’re the one calling the shots.” Donghyuck sits up a little straighter, putting on a smug face. “Okay, pick, __________. Me or Mark; who’s got the better punches?”

You make a show of acting thoughtful, even tapping your chin to pretend considering it deeply, but there was never any doubt on your choice. Still, you can’t really decipher the sudden slowness, the light tremble in Mark’s palm as it travels to your hip, where it settles, heavy, over the curve.

“It’s a complete knock-out,” you finally announce, grinning. “Championship belt goes to Mark.”

“Man, if I had a girlfriend as straight-shooting about her feelings for me as you are about your feelings for Mark, I’d propose in a day, max,” Jeno groans, half-exasperated and half-amused all at once.

“Man must’ve saved a nation or something in his past life,” Donghyuck grimaces. “No way he deserves a girl this hot and crazy about him. Hey — got any tips on stopping natural disasters or something? I could use a sexy, loyal girlfriend in my next life. Or maybe I’ll just poach yours in this one and see what it feels like.”

“I would actually deck you, so don’t even try it,” Mark snorts, his arm now winding full around your waist. You’re flush against his side, and he uses this opportunity to do something he doesn’t often do in front of his friends: show explicit affection by pressing a light kiss just behind your ear. It tickles, his breath grazing your earlobe, and you giggle, squirming in his hold. All he does is smile and pull you in tighter.

The bill’s split eight ways, but Mark’s fishing out cash to pay for your share even before you can get your wallet out from the bottom of your bag; it’s one of those quick, instinctive moves he likes to use on you, where he pushes the money and sends the bill back to the staff before you can even protest in full, so you have to settle on thanking him by returning the earlier favor — landing a peck on his cheek, which flushes a warm and contented pink the moment your lips make contact.

You just pointedly ignore the snickers that run around the table, particularly from Donghyuck and Jaemin.

The group splits ways at the front of the school dorms; most of them head in after their goodbyes, while Chenle backtracks towards his apartment building off-campus, mumbling something about how he hopes his roommate’s in because he accidentally left his key in the bowl next to their doorway. Mark should be piling in with the rest into the dorms, but he has a habit of insisting that he take you to the subway station; you’ve long since given up on convincing him against tagging along, mostly because he looks slightly hurt whenever you try to get him to stay put. You’re not going to complain anyway; for as much as you like being around Mark’s friends, it’s even better when you have this little slice of alone time despite the hassle it brings him.

Your fingers are linked when you walk under the street lights, the campus road leading to the station entrance significantly less busy at this time of evening; it’s cool enough for you to have an excuse to press yourself into Mark’s form, and he accepts this additional burden with an immense amount of grace, his arm finding its way around you again. Two minutes later, his palm is pressed against your bare skin once more, rubbing small, gentle circles just above your pelvis.

A part of you wonders if you’ll be able to do this — lean in, flush against him — when the summer heat starts to stick, but rather than really worrying about the logistics, you realize you’re more hung up on the idea of spending this summer with him.

“Sorry,” Mark murmurs out of the blue. Your eyebrows shoot up, and he looks down at you sheepishly. “Isn’t hanging out with my friends kind of driving you crazy?”

You hum in thought before shaking your head in resolution. “Not really. Not in a bad way, at least. I like how close you guys all are — and how big the group is. It’s usually just Yeji and Jisu with me, and they’re definitely not as rowdy. The change of pace is pretty fun.”

“Yeji and Jisu,” he echoes. “Your best friends. I haven’t met them yet, have I?”

“Not yet. Jisu started a part-time job across town, so we can’t get our schedules to align right just yet.” Your hip collides gently with his. “Should I let you, though?”

“One day… I think it would be nice to hang out with a less migraine-inducing crowd for a change.”

“I’ll tell them, then. They want to meet you.” You crane your neck up slightly, lowering your voice into a hushed whisper that’s completely unnecessary. “They want to know if you’re as cute as you look in your pictures.”

Mark draws back, laughing incredulously. “How do they know what my pictures look like?”

“I stalked your Instagram and showed them,” you answer simply. He throws you a funny look that’s equal parts disbelief and amusement. “They liked that one with the Spider-man costume.”

“Please don’t,” he groans, passing a hand over his face. “I should have taken that down, but I didn’t think anyone would care.”

“Why? I like it.” Your hand’s the one that manages to slip under his sweater this time, fingers trailing down his stomach; you feel him suck it in for a second in surprise before he lets out an exhale.

“I can’t ever understand what’s going through your head,” he chuckles, and you think it’s unfair that he manages to extract your hand from under the fabric while his is still firmly pressed against the side of your stomach. “You saw that and still wanted to date me?”

“Mark Lee, you simply underestimate how much I adore you. It’s kind of hurting my feelings at this rate.”

You’re just a few inches shy of the circle of light cast by the subway station sign. Your feet try to bring you forward, but Mark lingers behind, just outside the curve of soft white on the pavement, and his hand slips from under your shirt. You turn, and his hand skims down your arm instead, fingers locking around your wrist. With the slight distance between you, it looks like you’re caught in motion.

“I still can’t wrap my head around it sometimes.”

“What?”

“I just look over at you and feel like it’s not real. Like you’re going to disappear, and I’m just going to wake up from a dream and see you the next day, just some other stranger who doesn’t even know my name.” He licks his lips, and you want to reach out and kiss him already, but you know he isn’t done talking. “And I’m going to remember how much I liked you in that dream, but you won’t ever feel that same way.”

“You know I’m right here, though, don’t you?” Your fingers mimic his, squeezing around his wrist. “You can feel me. I’m here with you.”

Hesitation flashes across his face even when he nods, and you notice his eyes flit down to his shoes before looking back up at you — a habit of avoidance you know he’s trying to correct. “Sometimes I have to wonder if they’re right.”

“If… who’s right?”

“Them.” He jerks his thumb back in the general direction of the school dorms. “The guys. You know — when they ask me how I got a girl like you… the truth is, I don’t even really know. They can’t believe it, and it’s so crazy to me that I still sometimes can’t myself. So I start wondering if—”

You don’t let him finish this time; it’s rude to interrupt, you know, but you also know that what he’s about to say is probably something neither of you wants to hear anyway. Your lips connect with his, firm and demanding, and his words die in his throat, melting into a soft groan that vibrates against your skin. When you pull away, you don’t create the same distance, and Mark’s hands find their way to your waist, slightly trembling.

“They’re wrong,” you murmur, a quiet strength in your voice. “So stop wondering and just be with me.”

A smile starts tugging on the corners of his mouth, and the next moment, he’s nodding in assent, in wholehearted agreement, and the next kiss you share is one he starts, far more gentle than earlier.

“Next time I catch you entertaining nonsensical thoughts, there’ll be consequences.”

“Are you threatening me?” His laugh is colored with incredulity.

“Yes.” Your tone is firm, but your grin gives away too much of the jest. “Maybe I’ll ground you for a week, or something really childish.”

“I’d take it if you were with me.”

“That’s not how it works,” you snort, gently flicking the tip of his nose. He scrunches it on impact. “You’d be in solitary. You must reflect on your actions and all that nonsense. Meanwhile, I’ll be out having some good hotpot with everyone else.”

“If that happens, promise me one thing, then.” He maneuvers your stance until you’re both back in the blanket of darkness, just out of reach of the subway entrance. “Don’t sit next to Donghyuck.”

“And let him and Chenle give me an earful about how bad-slash-good the first Human Centipede movie was all over again? I think not.”

“No, really.” Mark buries his face into your neck, and you hear the quiet inhale as he breathes in your scent. On instinct, your hand comes up to thread through his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp. “I don’t want you sitting there and hearing him talk your ear off about how much I don’t deserve you or that he’ll help you find someone better.”

“You know he’s just joking — and I’m just joking, right?”

“Just promise me.”

You pause, wondering if it’s in your best interest to tease him for whatever act he’s pulling, but there’s a shortness to his breathing that makes the whole situation feel weirdly tense. He’s really waiting for something — an answer. The right answer, maybe.

“I promise,” you finally say, and you know you’ve said the correct thing when Mark’s lips press a soft kiss to your collarbone, like he’s sealing in your vow.

On the third time, Mark pretty much gives up.

The strangest thing is that it starts at a time when you’re not even actually together; if you had to pinpoint the exact moment, it probably had to be when Donghyuck had walked you to the dorm from library. No — maybe even before that. Somewhere in the time you’d spent in there, he’d thought up yet another way to push Mark’s buttons. You just didn’t really know the exact minute he’d first seen you with Jung Jaehyun.

You don’t know how Jaehyun does it; he skips half his classes and somehow doesn’t even get in trouble, let alone fail. You’d only met him last semester, but he was just about the only person who was halfway familiar in your Anthropology 120 class, so you thought you could at least feel comfortable enough to chat with him about the weather or what had happened in the last meeting. You don’t expect him to strong-arm you into being something of a literal proxy for him; the first week of the semester, you’d spend almost each lecture period gnawing on your nails and fretting over the fact that your signature for attendance looked nothing like his. By the second week, you’d already come to realize that it doesn’t matter because he had only attended one lecture — the first one — thus far and your professor was as clueless about Jaehyun’s handwriting as you. By the fourth week, you had resigned yourself to being his slightly unwilling associate for his random escapades, allowing him to copy off your notes and turning in his homework for him.

Now that you think about it, that’s probably how he does it.

You sacrifice your free time for him today, caged up in a library for pretty much the afternoon. You can’t help but resent him, not just because the whole room is stuffy and the librarian keeps passing by, clucking to remind people not to litter between shelves, but also because you’d much rather do things that are important to you — like pretending to flirt with Mark for the first time when you place your order and watching him act like it’s the first time you’re saying something so sweet to him, except he’s definitely not pretending. Instead of watching Mark’s face color that cute shade of pink and that sweet little smile pull at his mouth until he’s basically biting his lips back to stop himself from grinning, you have to bore yourself with the sight of Jaehyun trying to decipher your handwriting.

“You should really be more legible with your strokes.” He has the audacity to chastise you as if he’s the one doing you a favor by giving you constructive criticism.

“You should really come to class more often,” you bite back, although there’s no real heat to your words. You just look out the window and watch the sun sink down behind the university hospital building, wondering if there’s a chance you’ll still be able to catch Mark before his shift ends.

“Would if I could.”

“You actually fucking can,” you say tiredly, and even the way he turns the page is so impossibly slow. “Can’t you just take a picture?”

“Nah; writing it down carefully really helps my retention of this kind of stuff.”

“So take a picture and then write it down carefully.”

“With your ridiculous handwriting? I’d probably fail.”

“So come to class and write it yourself!”

Your hiss increases in pitch, and it calls the attention of the librarian over to you. She swoops in, clicking her tongue, but she’s not even looking at you. Her eyes are zoned in on Jaehyun, who meets her gaze with so much innocence it’s hard to imagine you’d wanted to smack him two minutes ago.

“Jung Jaehyun,” the librarian snaps in an undertone. The slow, punctuated way she says his name suggests she knows him fairly well — and not in a great way. “I see you’re back in here after your probationary period.”

“Sorry for the trouble, Mrs. Park.” He grins up at her, looking anything but apologetic. “I promise I won’t get in your way again today.”

“And this one—” She points to you, and you point to yourself in shock at being pointed to, and Jaehyun’s pointing at you and mouthing ‘this one’ with excessive mirth in his eyes. “Isn’t another one of those girls you plan on defiling my sacred space with?”

Jaehyun says ‘we didn’t defile anything’ at the same time you say I’m going to throw up, and the librarian just adds to the noise by shushing you on top of that jumble of words.

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you two,” Mrs. Park warns before stalking away, tutting at a library assistant for wrongly shelving a volume of Encyclopedia Brittanica.

“Please, Jaehyun,” you groan, crossing your arms over the table and flattening your forehead against them. “Just hurry up. Release me.”

He ignores you, still leaning closer to your notebook to decipher your handwriting. “I would like to set the record straight and make it known I didn’t fuck anyone in the library.”

“What’d you get probation for, then?”

“Just making out.” You notice he has the energy to grin wickedly even without meeting your eye, even while he’s still scrawling on his own notebook, and you groan something incoherent and irate once again. “What are you in such a big hurry for, anyway?”

“Has it ever occurred to you,” you grumble, raising your head. “That some people might want to do better things than sit here and watch you write stuff for ages?”

“No,” comes his simple reply. You bop your head onto your arms a few times in the hope that the impact will shake you out of this nightmare and you’d find yourself waking up in Mark’s arms instead, but you have no such luck. “By better things, do you mean fucking Mark Lee in someone else’s bedroom? That’s real defilement, by the way.”

“How’d you hear about that?” You squeeze your eyes shut and growl under your breath. “Fucking Youngho.”

“You doing that too?”

“Shut — please, would you hurry?”

He pointedly purses his lips in an effort to keep himself from letting out what you can only assume is, by the glint in his eyes, a witch’s cackle. “Almost done, man. Relax a bit. So did you guys get together — like, together together?”

You initially contemplate not telling him, but Jaehyun’s nosiness is probably going to reveal the truth to him sooner or later anyway. “Yeah. What’s it to you, though?”

“Nothing. You’re lucky.”

For the first time today, you feel like Jaehyun has finally said something right. “Yeah — yeah, I am.”

“I bet his friends don’t seem to think so.”

“Is this something you know because it’s a guy thing or because you’re so nosy that you just can’t help but listen in on every other juicy conversation around you?”

“A bit of both,” he chuckles. “Mostly just because I know Lee Donghyuck was giving him a hard time about it last semester.”

“I noticed that too — a bit, anyway. But it’s just banter, I think.”

“Probably. Imagine being his friend and getting a girlfriend; it’s like… the perfect ammunition for teasing. But I’m pretty sure half of the things that come out of his mouth are jokes meant to annoy.”

“What about yours?”

“I get it,” he sighs, shutting your notebook resolutely. It makes a thud that alerts the librarian two tables away, and she glares at you like you’re climbing onto Jaehyun’s lap in the middle of the References on the Korean War aisle. “I’ll set you free. Thanks, by the way, for letting me copy from you. Same time next week?”

“Or how about you look up the schedules for our classes and actually come instead of piggybacking off of my efforts and making snarky remarks about my handwriting while you’re taking advantage of my goodwill?”

“Sounds like too much effort on my end,” he yawns, waving you off as you stuff your notebook into your bag. “Later, ___________. Say hi to Mark for me. The normal way — not the girlfriend way, please.”

You stick your tongue out at him before you make a mad dash for the door, ignoring Mrs. Park as she shushes your footsteps on the marble. You’re so intent on fishing your phone out of your bag that you almost ram the door into the person standing behind it.

“Oh, fuck— Jesus, I’m sorry, I wa— wait, Donghyuck?”

“Great to see you too, ___________.” He rubs his jaw where the edge of the door grazed it. “You in a rush?”

“I was just about to go see if Mark was still at Starbucks.”

“His shift’s probably almost over. I’m headed back to the dorm if you wanna tag along.” When you nod, he starts leading the way, breaking the silence again soon after. “Were you in a study group, or something?”

“No,” you jerk your thumb backwards towards the minuscule form of Jaehyun, who’s now busy wasting time and space playing something on his phone where you’d left him. Donghyuck’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s my classmate who never comes to class. I was just lending him my notes.”

“Oh, Jaehyun, yeah.” Donghyuck snaps his fingers. “We were classmates last semester. He never went to class either, but I don’t know who he mooched off of to pass. You guys close?”

“Not really. I just fell into the trap of being too nice to him.”

“It’s funny,” he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Jaehyun seems more your speed. On paper, at least.”

You can’t help but look taken aback, and Donghyuck laughs at your expression. “What do you mean, my speed?”

“Not sure.” He pauses, trying to find the right words to explain himself. “Someone who’d fit more into your social circles. Someone who probably likes Formula One and considers men’s health magazines to be classic literature.”

“That’s your impression of my social circle?”

“You know what I mean. People like Jung Jaehyun or Seo Youngho. I literally thought you were dating him last semester, so it was totally crazy to hear you asked Mark out.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Like… you asked him out. Not even the other way around. That’s ridiculous.”

“Why?” You know he doesn’t mean anything bad by it; Donghyuck has next to no filter, and something about him being unable to process your relationship is honestly a little funny. “A girl can’t ask a guy out?”

(You try not to think too hard about the fact that up until you’d cornered him in Youngho’s room, you had been praying to whatever god could hear you to convince Mark Lee to do the romanticist thing and ask you out.)

“Nah, dude. Like… a girl like you asked a guy like him out.”

“I didn’t ask him out because he was a guy like that,” you say pointedly. “I asked him out because he was a guy I liked. I wouldn’t have asked anyone else out if it weren’t him.”

Donghyuck falls quiet for a while, and only the crunching of the leaves underfoot accompanies your walk. “You really like him that much, huh?”

“I’m crazy about him.” His nose scrunches up like he’s been hit with a horrible smell, and you laugh. “Can you stop giving him a hard time? Or tone it down? I know you probably don’t like it—”

Donghyuck’s chuckle is light and easy. “I’m not teasing him because I hate it; let’s be clear on that. I actually really like that you guys are together. I’ve never seen him this happy with anything or anyone.”

“Then why are you—”

“Because he’s Mark.” A devilish grin creeps up his features as he holds the door to the dorm lobby open for you. “And teasing him is my favorite thing to do.”

You shake your head; you can’t help your amusement, but you’re not sure you fully understand this kind of friendship. You suppose if Mark is okay with it in its totality, then there isn’t much you can say to change it either.

The next twenty minutes pass in comfortable back-and-forths; Donghyuck is, as you already have learned, an expert conversationalist, and while he doesn’t aggravate you the way he does Chenle, he does manage to navigate a quick-fire kind of exchange of thoughts and information that allows you to see the speed at which he thinks. There’s barely any lag between when he digests what you say and when he responds. You suppose there’s a measure of wit in that, but it’s also a little bemusing to see someone speak without at least running it through the conscience checker every once in a while. You decide you’ve never met anyone quite like Lee Donghyuck before.

He’s in the middle of asking you what the Anthropology professor is like because he’s planning on taking it as an elective if he can when you notice a familiar figure pushing into the lobby, backpack swinging on a folded elbow.

“Mark!” The brief confusion on his face morphs into a surprised joy when he spots you on the couch, even though a bit of it lingers upon recognizing that Donghyuck is seated next to you. He walks over in long strides, and your posture straightens to meet his palm as it comes down gently against the crown of your head again; it bumps lightly, causing the both of you to laugh.

“Hey, you.” His voice is warm and fond in its greeting, and you beam up at him. “Did you have a busy afternoon?”

“Unfortunately. Did you just get back from your shift?”

“I passed by the co-op to check out the new university letter jackets. Design’s pretty dope.” He nods towards the elevator. “You wanna head up for a little bit?” You almost get to respond before your companion cuts in instead.

“Hey. Can’t you see we’re having a riveting conversation over here?” Donghyuck sniffs, making a show of hitting Mark’s shin lightly with the heel of his shoe. “Have some respect.”

“Is the conversation so riveting that I can’t take my girl for the evening at all?”

You mouth out a no, but Donghyuck’s flair for dramatics has him humphing and shoving Mark’s hand away from your hair. “Yeah, man. At least let us finish up.”

“What’s this even about?”

“How Jung Jaehyun asked her out in the library today,” Donghyuck replies easily. You start, shaking your head immediately, but Mark’s jaw slackens a little upon hearing this. Donghyuck continues loudly over your protests, and you can’t keep your voice straight because you’re adamant and yet, somehow, still laughing incredulously in your shock. “Oh, dude, let me tell you. He had his arm around her like this — and he was giving her the bedroom eyes… I wouldn’t have blamed her if she folded, honestly.”

“Mark, no,” your stupid gasp comes out as half a giggle as a result of Donghyuck trying to reenact his imaginary scenario. He’s slung his arm across your shoulders and pulled himself in, doing his best expression of a pleading dog’s gaze, which is both perplexing and hilarious. “He’s just kidding—”

“Then he got all close like this—” Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, and the view he allows himself blocks him from having to look at Mark. You, on the other hand, are still trying to resist a misunderstanding, your palms up and every part of your body that can move shaking vehemently, but you can see Mark’s face turn a violent shade of red you can’t remember having seen from him before. “Spoke all low — you remember he had that sexy, husky voice, right? ”

“He’s just messing with you,” you wheeze out, trying to extract yourself from Donghyuck’s hold, but he only tightens his arm around your neck, almost to the point where you can’t inhale properly.

“And he said ‘you’re the hottest chick I’ve ever seen—’ then you know what he did, Markie?”

Mark doesn’t respond; you’re not even sure if he can, considering his Adam’s apple is bobbing dangerously like he’s one misstep away from exploding. You laugh again, stupidly, because you don’t know what else to do; you know Donghyuck’s teasing him, and you know Mark usually takes it in stride, but you’ve also never seen the latter look so focused on anything that didn’t involve a math problem or eating you out. “No, really, nothing hap—”

You don’t even have the space to finish your sentence. Donghyuck’s too quick when he grabs your face and plants a comedically sloppy kiss on your cheek, bursting out in laughter when he pulls away. You can only sit there, probably as stunned as Mark looks, raising your hand slowly to wipe the spittle Donghyuck left behind in his wake.

“Oh, Jesus,” Donghyuck rasps out between snorts. “Your face is priceless, man.”

“Not funny,” Mark grumbles, and there’s a hoarseness to his voice that makes you feel like it’s barely controlled.

“Also not true. I just bumped into her on the way from the library. We were talking about one of her classes or whatever.” Donghyuck dramatically wipes the tears from his eyes, and you sigh, nudging him. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t resist. Man, don’t even worry. She’s downright crazy about you. Even if Jung Jaehyun had asked her out—”

“Anyway.” Mark reaches down, lacing your fingers together, pulling you up and closer to his side like he’s worried you’ll catch Donghyuck’s crazy. “If that’s all of it…”

“Yeah, yeah. You two lovebirds go moon over each other already. I just love seeing your face like that.”

Mark snorts, yanking on Donghyuck’s earlobe punitively, and the latter cries out sharply (and a little exaggeratedly) at the pain. Mark doesn’t even seem to care; he leads you to the elevator and punches in his floor. You barely have time to call out a belated ‘bye’ to Donghyuck, who acknowledges it with a raise of his palm, before the doors slide shut.

It’s a slow elevator, given that it’s an old building, and the first couple of floors pass without much noise between the two of you. You’re not unaware of how tight Mark’s grip is on your hand, but you don’t comment nor take it against him. By the fourth floor, you’re raising his hand up to your lips and pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

“Nothing happened.” You confirm his unasked question, and you see a modicum of tension leave his shoulders. “He was just messing with you because he thinks it’s funny.”

“Yeah, I know.” Even if he says it like that, there’s still lingering doubt in his voice. “Were you with Jung Jaehyun today, though? Is that why you didn’t show up?”

You nod. “He was copying my notes for Anthropology. Guy barely shows up to lectures, so he borrows my stuff. I can’t believe he hasn’t been suspended yet. Or punched in the face by the people he leeches off of.”

“No kidding.”

You step out on the sixth floor with him. Even if you already know where Mark’s dorm is, you let him lead the way, and he ushers you into an empty and dimly lit living space while taking his shoes off. His roommate barely seems to be around; you’ve seen him all of two times, and it doesn’t look like he’s here either right now. You pause anyway, listening to any signs of life just to be sure, but when you both confirm that there’s no one but the two of you, you busy yourselves with turning on the lights and plugging in the water dispenser.

You work in relative silence; it isn’t anything unusual since you’ve done this a million times, and you’ve come to learn that small talk isn’t necessary when you’re just washing your hands or opening the refrigerator aimlessly even if you know you both plan on ordering in. But there’s a weird aura around Mark that you’re not sure how to place; he doesn’t seem like he’s mad, but there definitely seems to be something off — a problem, at least, that you’re not sure you know how to ask about.

So you just try to diffuse whatever it is by completely ignoring it.

“Pizza or Chinese?” You ask, flopping onto the couch as he plugs the television into the outlet. He looks up at you, and you notice his eyes are slightly dazed, like you’ve just woken him up from a dream. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse the first time he says it, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, sorry.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“We just had pizza, so I’m thinking Chinese is the better option. Cream shrimp? Fried rice? Not the salted fish one, though, maybe.”

You hum in assent, but when he straightens up from behind the television, you extend your arm to him, attempting to clarify yourself. “I mean, what are you thinking so hard about?”

“Nothing.” His answer’s a little too quick. A moment of awkward silence passes where you telepathically tell him you know he’s lying and he has to come to terms with his horrible lying skills, and he sighs, crossing over to the couch and settling beside you. Immediately, he tangles your fingers together, belatedly returning the favor from the elevator and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “He didn’t ask you out, right?”

You know he knows the truth, so you decide to bat your own question back at him in an attempt at rhetoric. “What would it matter if he did? The answer would have been the same, real or imagined.”

Mark pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling slowly. There’s a red flush on his neck that’s only started fading, it seems. You reach out and skim your finger along the vein that runs down the side of his throat. “I know. I don’t like it all the same. I hate… even thinking about it, actually.”

“Really — nothing happened. If you don’t count the fact that I almost strangled him for keeping me there — which I’m sure you’d agree doesn’t count as anything in favor of him.”

“I heard Jung Jaehyun’s kind of a playboy.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Nothing. I don’t know.” His head lolls to the side, and his eyes hold a sadness that pulls at your heart. “It means he really could have made a pass at you. Or you could have — I don’t know. In the end… I just worry.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Your lower lip juts out, and his eyes widen slightly, his head shaking before his mouth can even work out a proper response.

“No — I mean, yes, absolutely. It’s — I mean, it’s just—” He inhales again to gather his wits, two fingers still rubbing his forehead. “I trust you, without a doubt. I don’t trust other people — not around you. Not Jaehyun, or Youngho, or—”

“Or Donghyuck?” You smile a little apologetically at his embarrassment, clear on his face when his eyes stray from yours. “Mark, you know he’s only messing with you, right? I thought it was a funny thing for you guys.”

“It’s not funny if it’s about you,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you. He looks up at you again, chewing on his bottom lip. “I know. I’m trying to control it. Sometimes… I don’t know why it gets under my skin. I guess it’s because it could happen — you… finding someone else. I kind of hate the thought of that.”

“And if I said I hate it even more than you?”

His gaze softens, something like relief passing over his features, but the rest of his body still holds a significant amount of tension; you know by the way he’s running agitated circles on the back of your hand. You gently tug on his arm, allowing yourself to use it as an anchor to shift your weight. Mark makes a soft noise of inquiry but says nothing more, waiting until you’ve maneuvered your body to settle on his lap.

The view is reminiscent, and you can see that the core memory you share flashes through his mind too. A small smile, still somewhat reluctant, plays on Mark’s lips, and you hate that it’s all you get right now, so you rectify this by leaning down and leaving a small, chaste kiss on them. You pull away much too soon, and his head follows in response to the distance, chasing your lips until you’re realistically too far to reach. His arm extends instead, swiftly tucking your hair behind your ear.

Your fingers close around his wrist, and your head turns, continuing the kiss against his palm — short and firm.

“Stop doing that.”

His eyebrows fly upward in questioning, his other hand freezing in its trail up your thighs. Even his breath seems to catch, and what’s left of it comes out as a raspy whisper. “Stop being jealous? I’m… I’m trying.”

You shake your head. “Stop being sexy when you’re jealous.”

The ‘what’ he seems to want to ask dies in his throat, his mouth only able to form half of the word before you interrupt, your lips taking in the rest of the syllable. When you kiss him this time, there’s a slow hunger to it; your teeth find his lower lip even before he’s able to get into the rhythm of kissing you back. You just want him to know — everything about him drives you wild, even when he doesn’t know it.

You’ll never grow sick of the taste of him, you’re sure; today, he tastes even more enticing, the hint of something rich mixing in with the stronger flavor of coffee on his tongue. It’s familiar and comforting, and it’s only when you break away, both your faces flushed from a prolonged lack of air, that you puzzle out what the taste is — the lingering aftermath of a vanilla sweet cream cold brew, one he must have prepared in anticipation of you this afternoon.

You briefly squeeze your eyes shut and thank whoever’s listening for the gift of Mark Lee.

“Mark,” your murmur, your voice much softer, intent on coaxing him into releasing his worries. “You know, right?”

His ‘hm’ is only half-there in focus, the rest of his attention on his hands, which have found their way to your ass and have started digging his fingers into the flesh beyond your jeans. You have to tilt his head up with one finger under his chin, and there’s a whirlpool of emotion in them: curiosity, desire, and, interestingly, a quiet, almost suppressed kind of anger.

“If it isn’t you,” you whisper. “Then there’s nobody else.”

You see his jaw tighten, feel his grip against you do the same, and his brow furrows, like he’s trying — much too hard, and for no good reason — to stop himself from tipping over. You don’t like that either; if he’s there, you think, you should take him over the edge.

“But if you want them to know so badly, then…” You tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, bringing the expanse just a little closer to his mouth. “Why don’t you go ahead and put your claim on me?”

You swear you see his pupils dilate right before he presses his mouth to your skin. With a low, almost pained groan against your neck, he latches his teeth in lightly, and you feel the soft sting, the increase in pressure the moment he starts sucking a mark just above your collarbone. There’s a wet, messy pattern to his movements, always punctuated by the sweep of his tongue to soothe your flesh. Even with that, his movements are slow and careful, still gentle in the way he’s handling you, but you feel it anyway — all of his tension’s concentrated in his grip, the way he keeps you close, hips pinned against him as if he’s worried anything less will cause you to disappear.

“Every time you worry, remember you can do this.” You pause, your breath catching in a lilt as his teeth dig in a little more fiercely. “You’re the only one that can.”

His lips detach with a soft groan, fingers squeezing your ass tight for a moment. Warm breath cools against the damp patch on your neck, and a second later, you feel his mouth graze against the few inches of skin, sensitive and slightly raw. “I know. It’s just not fair.”

You hum in questioning, but he doesn’t answer immediately; his mouth busies itself just under the mark he’d surely left, already starting up the same routine. You’d let him, and you want him to, but you want to hear his voice more. Your fingers tangle into his hair, and you use that hold to ease his head back, urging him to look up at you. It’s almost a mistake, seeing him like that — lips slightly swollen and definitely slick with his own saliva, parted just a little to reveal teeth he’d been desperate to nip your flesh with again. It crosses your mind that Mark has a mouth made for kissing — no, that isn’t accurate.

A mouth made for you to kiss.

“What’s not fair?” You ask softly. Even now, he takes his time in answering, his eyes falling close for a second; you watch him swallow, lick his lips, breathe in before he speaks, and all of those mundane things he does somehow make you lose your mind all the more.

“How badly I keep wanting you,” he breathes out, his eyes slowly opening. “And how it makes me think everyone wants you just as much.”

His hands leave the curve of your ass, traveling up your shirt, resting against your sides. He holds you like he’s careful in trying not to break you, his fingers spread wide to make sure his thumbs almost meet against your stomach, but there’s a smoldering headiness in his gaze that tells you he’s thinking a little too hard about wanting to break you.

“I touch you like this, and I think that everyone would kill to do the same.” His fingers squeeze against your flesh, inching upwards until they rest just under your breasts; his thumbs stroke the curved underline of your bra. “I think about kissing you and it feels like everyone’s thinking it at the exact same time. I look at someone next to you, even if you don’t know them, and I wonder if they want to pull you close, if they want to feel you against them just as much as I do. When I—”

He inhales sharply between his words, and the exhale comes out somewhat shaky. For a moment, he grits his teeth, jaw flexing in an attempt to keep himself in check. You worry he doesn’t want to continue — doesn’t want to let you hear it, but it feels so important that you can’t let it go. “Tell me.”

“When I think about fucking you,” he breathes out, voice barely audible. “Whenever I look at you and think about how much I want to feel you around me, feel you cum around me… I just know everyone else wants the same thing, and it’s driving me crazy because… because they can’t.”

It’s there again, flashing in his eyes — a determination that reads almost like fury.

“They can’t,” he repeats, his voice firmer. “I won’t ever let them. Never.”

You don’t stop him this time when his mouth reclaims your skin. You let his thoughts fuel the need in his movements, allow yourself to move only in reaction to what he does — the tilting of your head to give him more room, the tightening of your fists against his shirt to keep yourself steady. A surprised mewl leaves you when you feel his teeth pinch against your flesh again, and it’s harder, sharper this time, his quiet anger finally dictating his strength. You grapple for words, but they come out in weak gasps.

“It doesn’t — doesn’t matter,” you manage to whimper out. “How many people think that way, how much they want me that way. I only ever want you.”

His breathing is caught, warm, in the pocket of space just between you and his mouth; it tingles against your skin, tickles your senses into heightening. Your fingers unfurl, pressing against his chest, and you can feel his quickened heartbeat thrumming under your palm.

“God, please,” he murmurs, the soft peck of a kiss landing against your collarbone. “Please, tell me.”

“Mark, I’m yours.” There’s no teasing in how you say it; it was never meant to rile him up. It even escapes sweetness, the romanticism it usually comes with when you remind him on any other occasion. This is a promise to him, something you’re reinforcing as fact, something that can’t ever change. “I’m always going to be yours — no one else’s. I’ll never let anyone have anything that’s yours. Ask anything, take everything you want. I’ll never say no to you. Only you — always you.”

You know something’s different in a number of ways; his arms circle around you, but instead of keeping you firm and stable in his lap, they’re tight, squeezing a whine out of you, holding your torso flush against his. His face never leaves the crook of your neck, but you hear — feel — something there — a soft growl of need, of frustration that begs release. Suddenly, you find yourself off the couch; you barely have the presence of mind to wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your thighs against his sides before he’s carrying you to his room, kicking the door open and letting the rebound of the impact against his wall slam it shut behind him.

You’ve been in Mark’s room before, so there’s absolutely no need for you to take in the scenery when he sets you down on his bed. It doesn’t matter anyway, even if this were your first time; Mark’s crawling over you, his face flush and eyes sharp with hunger, and he looks so enticing that you wouldn’t want to pay attention to anything else around you anyway. His limbs cage you in, arms on either side of your shoulders and his knees just by your thighs, and you don’t really know why he’s already panting, but it just makes you want him all the more.

“Never,” he groans out, leaning down to nose against the patch of skin his mouth had worked on. “I’m never going to let anyone take you, ever. You’re all mine.”

His name fades on your lips, carried away by a moan when his mouth reattaches itself to your neck; it moves, almost frenzied, to renew the mark he’d left, make it a deeper red, a slightly bruised purple. You’re usually careful not to do anything that will require any attention or cover-up after, but Mark seems a little too far gone to care, and you realize you like him best this way.

Even with all the attention he gives your neck, his fingers are busy; they work on the button of your jeans, sliding them down with the help you offer by raising your hips. They only reach halfway down your thighs, his reluctance to come back up for air stopping him from peeling them off completely, but it’s all he seems to need for now.

Eager fingers ease between your thighs, two at once, pressing against your folds. You’re unable to spread your legs like you usually do, but this tightness makes you all the more sensitive, and you keen as his digits fit themselves into your slit. Frustratingly, they don’t move right away, and you have to raise your hips again just to get some sort of friction. Even then, Mark doesn’t take the hint — or, perhaps, the bait — keeping a light pressure against your clit without doing anything else. His focus is still on your neck, now slightly aching under his lips, and when he finally pulls away, you see a look of triumph on his face. He tilts his head back slightly to admire his work — the blooming dark patch you’re sure he’s left where your skin tingles the most.

“If I said I wanted to mark you all over, would you let me?”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t ask for it?”

He chuckles, tightening the pressure of his fingers against your clit; you say something that sounds halfway between ‘Mark’ and a sob.

“I want to, so badly.” He admits, gaze still fixed on your neck. “I’d want to see you walk out of here, walk into class covered in them. I’d want people to ask you how you got them, and who gave them to you. And I’d want you to say it proudly — that it was me who did it. That I fucked you all night and made you mine over and over again.”

“Why don’t you?” His eyes snap up to you, a small smile forming on his lips. “I want to say that too. Let me brag about having you. Let me tell everyone how good you always make me feel. Then you can tell everyone who doesn’t believe you, too — how I let you take me every single time. Show me off and tell them to look at how you made me yours.”

Another laugh escapes him, but there’s more disbelief than humor in it; he seems to find it amazing, that you can just agree with what he says, no matter how strange he thinks it is.

“Show you off? If I mark you in other places, do I have to show them every part?”

“Do you not want to?”

“I want to, and I don’t.” He pauses, slightly amused, and you know he’s remembering the first time you fucked. “I don’t them to see your body, but I want them to see what I did to it. I don’t want them to look at what’s mine, but I just want them to know it is.”

“Then you can fuck me in front of everyone and make them watch you ruin me completely.”

He shakes his head, even if desire flashes clear across his features. He busies himself with actions while he mulls it over, tugging your jeans down alongside your panties and casting them aside before he straightens up. His eyes rake over your form; you’re bare from the waist down, your shirt halfway ridden up, the underside of your bra peeking out from under the hem. Again, his eyes land on your neck, and his smile widens slightly.

“Can’t.” He decides finally. “You’re too pretty for that.”

You hum thoughtfully, and he raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t move, even when you sit up, shifting yourself so you can tuck your calves under your thighs — not even when you reach out to undo his belt or tug down his zipper. He only reacts a little when your hand presses against his hardness through his boxers, the girth now easily familiar to your palm.

“What about something like this?” You ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed. You’ve started slow strokes against him, the fabric creating extra friction, more heat under your palm, and you watch his jaw clench as he swallows back a soft grunt. “Would you let them watch me do this for you?”

“Let me think about it,” he chuckles softly, and you nod, letting your fingers work to make your point. You don’t have to undress him completely to get what you want; all you need is to tug down the front of his boxers to free him, and you already have him wrapped in your palms, stroking his shaft to full hardness.

“Think faster,” you urge, and he shakes his head, slightly bemused. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t even want them to watch me jerk you off?”

“At least give me a full minute.”

You laugh lightly, whispering a ‘fine’ before you press a soft kiss against tip. He inhales sharp through his teeth, already sensitive, and you waste no time in letting your tongue flick out against the smooth head. He doesn’t need the lubrication, realistically; his precum’s already leaking from the tip, mixing in with your saliva as you run your tongue around it. All you do is make him a little messier, a little slicker, your spittle running down his length.

Taking Mark in your mouth is a demanding task, but one you’re always up for; there’s something uniquely satisfying about letting him fill your mouth, inch by inch, and watching his breathing hitch and stutter until your lips are closer to the base than to the head. What you can’t reach, your hand always squeezes around, eager to make sure he feels good completely. His expression is sublime when you draw your head back the first time, sucking as you do so — his eyes are half-lidded, and he doesn’t stop the moan that falls from his lips. His gaze is fixed on you, hazy but still able to drink the sight of you in, and you’re not sure how, but you almost feel like you could get off to watching him watch you taste him.

You try, somehow, vaguely conscious of the movement of your hips; you’re grinding at nothing at first, so your knees give way just enough for you to press yourself against his sheets. It’s slightly uncomfortable, a strain in your thighs that you’re not really used to, but you don’t care; Mark’s sharp inhale at seeing you attempt to grind your pussy against his mattress is pretty much as arousing as anything else. His cock twitches hard in your mouth, and you suck just a little harder, a little messier, your head bobbing down to meet your hand, still firmly wrapped around his girth.

The room’s filled with nothing but slick sounds and soft groans; Mark’s hand has found its way into your hair, tangled into a makeshift ponytail, and while he isn’t guiding your mouth to do anything, you can feel his hips stutter then start to move, pulling back when your head does. He tries to hide it, tries to keep himself steady, but pride blooms in your chest when you note that he can’t; he wants to feel like he’s fucking into your mouth, into your hand, the way he does when he takes your pussy.

It’s relatively quiet for that time, nothing but muffled moans from you that mix in with his noises, but you only realize you’d been waiting for an answer to something when he speaks up again.

“It’s… still a no for me.”

Your movements slow, your gaze lifting to communicate your mild confusion to him. You don’t want to ask; you just don’t want to lose the taste of him on your tongue just yet. He looks down at you, smiling with overflowing tenderness, almost like he’s apologetic.

“Even just this — you’re too pretty when you do it.” His hand reaches down, thumb stroking over your cheek. “I can’t let anyone see what you look like when you’re like this. They’ll keep thinking about you doing it for them. And you’d only do it for me — right?”

You nod immediately, your response causing your mouth to slip down his shaft just a little more. It elicits a guttural noise from him, one that fuels you into sucking him just a little harder, your enthusiasm overtaking your restraint. His fingers have let go of your hair, stroking it back into smoothness, almost comforting in their movements.

“God, I wish you could see yourself; you’d know what I mean,” he continues to murmur, his voice just a little louder over the eager, wet noises you’re making. “How pretty you look with your mouth wrapped around me. How perfect you are when you’re kneeling like this for me — how happy you look when you’re sucking me off. I can’t share that with anyone. Fuck — not ever.”

Your mouth draws back, completely this time, and your tongue presses against the underside of his cock. You lick a long stripe up his shaft, moaning softly at the light throb you feel, and you watch him tip his head back. The groan that follows soon after is almost close to a frustrated growl, ending in a whispered ‘shit’ before his eyes land back on you. He watches you press kiss after kiss against his tip, coaxing the precum out even more, and you take special care to leave more down each inch of his cock until you’re finally able to release your hold on his base so you can leave the last one there.

His hand combs your hair back before it falls to cup your chin, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to gently clean up the froth of spittle there. You smile up at him in thanks, and his thumb sweeps over the seam of your lips to follow the slight curve.

“So pretty,” he repeats, and your cheeks glow pink under the palms that caress them. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Pretty as hell, fucking perfect — and you’re all mine.”

You kneel up again, chasing his lips with your own, and he locks you in his arms as his tongue slips its way past your teeth, the aroma of coffee still on it. He leaves today’s taste of him against your tongue, on the ridges of your teeth, until you feel like you’ve all but consumed him, and you whimper softly when he pulls away, urging you to turn around and lean back into his chest.

His mouth reattaches itself to the same spot; it’s like a home base for him, and he breathes in your scent from there before giving the same patch of skin a light suck, almost as if he’s worried it’ll fade in a few minutes’ time if he doesn’t give it attention.

“Show me.” Hands slide down to your hips, squeezing them lightly, like a prompt for your response. “Show me how pretty you are for me.”

His palms never leave you, not even when you detach yourself from his chest and bend down; your elbows meet the mattress, but your hips stay raised, giving him a view of your pussy. Your gasp easily turns into a moan when his digit dips into your wetness again, his other hand pushing gently at your asscheek to keep you open.

You think he’s about to slip his finger in, the tip brushing against your entrance, and you tense in anticipation, but it doesn’t happen; he continues to run his finger down your slit, careful not to linger against your clit for too long. The result is that you tighten around nothing, and you hear him suck in a breath as he watches your hole grow smaller for a second. You laugh breathily, resting your chin against the backs of your hands, one folded atop the other. “Pretty enough for you to fuck?”

“Do you have to ask if you already know?”

“I want to hear it anyway.”

His finger slips into your hole, finally, and you keen softly as he breaches the first ring of tightness. He doesn’t really move it, just tests your tightness, feels you contract around him as if to know what his cock will feel in a few moments.

“Your pussy’s too pretty not to fuck,” he manages out, and his throat sounds as tight as you feel. “Seeing it like this… makes me think there’s no way anyone can resist. It’s exactly why I can’t let anyone see you like this.”

You hum as his finger presses in deeper, and you know it’s nothing in comparison to the real thing, but you like feeling that mild stretch, the depth it reaches all the same. “How should we let them know, then? That I’m all yours.”

His finger stills, and you hum softly, swaying your hips to shake him out of whatever trance he’s in. He’s grown quiet, but there’s a thoughtfulness in this pause, like he’s seriously considering your question. You laugh lightly, ready to tell him you’re just egging him on until he fucks you, but he slips his finger out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing again. You can’t help the confused noise that comes out of you, but you at least know he isn’t completely backing away, his other hand still firmly on your ass.

“Mark, what—”

You get your answer in the thud that interrupts your question — he’s tossed his phone onto the bed, having it land next to you. Something in your blood runs hot, and your fingers tremble when you pick it up. You see yourself reflected in the blackened screen — excitement in your eyes, your lips glossy from your blowjob.

Mark’s silent as you let the meaning of his actions settle; wordlessly, he slips his finger into you again, followed by another one this time, and you shudder in pleasure at the difference in the stretch. He doesn’t ask, but you can tell he’s wondering if he’s gone too far— if you think he’s crazy. He lets his fingers stay anchored in you, unmoving, waiting for you to say something, but from where he is, he just can’t know the smile that passes your face.

Finally, he tries to speak up. “We don’t have to— I just meant—”

“What’s your passcode?”

He breathes out, the exhale quivering as much as you probably are. “Your birthday.”

Your smile only widens when you tap the screen to life and see a picture of you — you don’t even remember when he’d taken it, but it’s a shot of you sprawled on his bed, bundled in his blanket and reading something that looks oddly like your textbook for your European Renaissance History class. It’s grainy and dimly lit, a stolen photograph of you, but it makes your heart swell, and you laugh lightly as you key in your birthday; the screen unlocks, allowing you access to all his applications.

“What’s funny?”

“Just thinking about how you should replace this wallpaper.”

“To what?” He sounds bemused.

“The view of me you have now.”

His fingers curl in you, pressing down against your walls, and you push your hips back in a bid for more friction; you hear him hiss out a ‘fuck’ under his breath, and his hand digs harder into the flesh of your ass.

You open Mark’s contacts, scrolling down aimlessly. Most of the names, you don’t recognize, but you see a few familiar ones crop up here and there. He doesn’t ask, only starts pumping his fingers into you in quiet anticipation, wondering how far you’re willing to take it, how much you’ve bought into this crazy idea.

“Mark,” you call out, and he hums in response. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“With my life.”

“So if I called Donghyuck right now—” His fingers hook into you, the delicious pressure on your walls making you squeak instead of finish your sentence immediately. You twist your torso to meet his eyes, and you’re slightly surprised but not at all displeased to see something crazed lingering in his gaze. “How much of a show would you want to put on for him?”

He shifts his weight, his knee sinking into the mattress as he slots it between your legs. This change in position allows him to angle his fingers a little differently, driving down into you with a force that makes you squirm. You almost forget you’ve asked him something again until he leans in closer, his murmur almost drowned out by the slick sounds of his finger pressing into your hole.

“Just… enough for him to know you’ve always been mine.”

Your thumbs are shaking when you scroll through his contacts again, up and down until you find the right name — Lee Donghyuck — and Mark watches you intently, wordlessly, as you press his number, start the call, and put it on speaker.

The wait feels like an eternity, with Mark’s finger slipping in and out of you in a steady, languid pace as you watch the line connect, but in reality, Donghyuck really only answers after the fourth ring. “Yo, Mark.”

His voice is casual, lacking in any sort of expectation; you can hear explosions and gunshots in the background, and you’re willing to bet he’s in the middle of an action movie. You’re proven right when you hear random English babbling soon after.

“Hi, Hyuck.”

“___________?” He sounds genuinely confused that it’s you that greets him. “Where’s Mark? You okay?”

“He’s right here with me; don’t worry.” Your voice is a soft croon, and he has to lower the volume of the television to be able to hear you better. “We’re totally fine. What are you up to?”

“Watching Resident Evil. Uh, is there a reason you called?”

You want to draw out the lie of something casual for as long as you can, but Mark doesn’t let you. His fingers push, suddenly forceful, into you, and you let out a soft cry into the receiver. You look back at him, eyes wide with amusement, and he shrugs, having at least enough sense to look slightly abashed at his experiment.

One moment, you’re listening to a female voice shout something, and the next, Donghyuck’s side of the call is silent except for his breathing. When you don’t bother explaining what had just happened, he takes matters into his own hands.

“Hello?”

He sounds equal parts affronted and amused, like the shock of it has tickled him. You can’t help it; you laugh too, but it’s quickly cut off by another whine when Mark pulls his fingers out. Donghyuck makes an incredulous noise.

“Now, what the fuck is all this about, you freaks?”

“You kept wondering why I ended up asking Mark out,” you evade his question with another one. “Should I tell you why, if you’re that curious?”

“No way. Have fun, weirdos,” he laughs, and the line goes dead a second after.

You snort out a laugh, and Mark mumbles something that sounds vaguely like that was crazy before he leans down and presses a kiss to the small of your back. You make to turn so you can finally face him, but you’re distracted when his phone screen lights up again, and Donghyuck’s name flashes across it.

You exchange amused glances before you pick up the call, and you don’t even get a ‘hello’ out when his voice rings out, sharp and clear.

“But pretending I am,” he says, as though he hadn’t hung up the call a few seconds ago. “Exactly what kind of answer would I get?”

“The kind that’ll hopefully shut you up for good,” Mark pipes in instead of you.

“What’s that even going to sound like?” Already, Donghyuck’s activated whatever toggle in him that gets him to push Mark’s buttons. This time, though, you can’t say it works against you; you feel Mark inch closer to you, and a moment later, the fat tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. “I bet you can’t even get her to yawn, man.”

Mark doesn’t have to respond; you do it for him when he pushes in, torturously slow, as if to draw out your moan. It works a little too well, with you keening into the phone, and yet no part of you is acting for his sake. As familiar as the stretch is, it’s not something you’ve ever been able to commit to memory fully, and it feels like a new breaching of your tightness each time. Your legs fold in slightly, a useless movement that attempts to get you adjusted to his size faster, but Mark interprets it as discomfort, his hands tightening on your hips.

“You okay?” He sounds genuinely worried for a second, forgetting that Donghyuck’s still on the line. Your cheek brushes against his sheets as you nod, trying to meet his eye even in this position to let him know you’re being honest.

“Fucking big, Mark.” You hear Donghyuck tsk from his end, and you laugh breathlessly. “You don’t like knowing he’s big?”

“I just hate that fucker,” Donghyuck quips back easily, but there’s no seriousness in his voice. If anything, it sounds a little raspy, with him clearing his throat soon afterward.

“Well, I’m crazy about him,” you whisper into the call, and your breathing hitches as Mark finally bottoms out, groaning at your tightness. “I’m crazy about the way he touches me, the way he tastes. I’m crazy about how big his cock is, how deep it gets when he’s inside me, how he stretches me out — fuck—”

Your verbal rampage is cut short by a loud moan as Mark draws his hips back and pushes forcefully into you; you haven’t fully adjusted, and you’re even tighter now from what you’re saying, so the friction inside you is nothing short of delicious. He starts a pattern of thrusts, not bothering to build up from his usual slow and steady pace — hearing you talk that way and knowing that Donghyuck is listening is enough to get him to abandon self-imposed restrictions.

“Mark,” you whine out, accidentally pushing the phone a little further away as you reach out blindly for him behind you, and he catches your wrist to let you know he’s there. “Mark, fuck, it feels so good—”

You tighten around him as if to prove your words, and he growls in response. You find yourself having to press your cheek in a little harder into the mattress as he gathers your wrists together into one hand, pinning them to your lower back, and it’s with that hold on you that he leverages his thrusts, pumping into you a little harder each time.

You’re not completely unaware of your surroundings, but it takes a while for you to process the sounds coming from the phone’s speaker — labored breathing, the sound of a zipper being pulled down. You want to wonder if this is working a little too well, but nothing comes from your mouth apart from soft whimpers, and it’s all the cue Mark needs to be the one to fill in the relative silence himself.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, and you feel his lips press between your shoulder blades. It feels like a chaste kiss at first, but he leaves his breath there, still flitting over your skin as he continues to speak. “I’ll never get tired of how pretty you are — how pretty you always sound for me. Doesn’t she sound pretty, Hyuck?”

“Fucking pretty,” Donghyuck agrees, though his voice sounds somewhat distant. You can only sob back a quiet ‘fuck me, harder, harder,’ in response.

“Can you imagine how much prettier she looks under me?” It’s almost a full-blown conversation now, but even if Mark’s addressing Donghyuck, the rest of his attention’s fully on you. He adjusts his stance, still keeping his hold around your wrists as he angles himself deeper into you, causing you to cry out and squirm in pleasure. With your face pressed against the bed and his weight driving down into you, you feel utterly trapped, in the best kind of way. Mark, in the way he is now, is inescapable, almost incorrigible, and he pistons deeper into your pussy, his free hand brushing your hair away from your shoulder so he can leave a kiss against it. “Bent over, legs spread just a little, all for me to take. Pretty little hole wet for me, and so fucking tight. Can you imagine that?”

“I’m doing it right now.”

“It’s a thousand times better in person. Trust me.”

The same hand slips between your thighs, two fingers spreading your folds apart; the middle one circles your clit in a pace that matches his thrusts, sudden and shocking, and you arch your back upwards slightly with a choked noise. He finally releases your wrists, and you claw at the sheets helplessly to keep yourself somehow upright as the force of Mark’s hips, their impact against the backs of your thighs, pushes you forward, closer to the phone again. The stimulation is merciless, endless, and in the haze of your pleasure, you wonder if you should make Mark a little more jealous everyday if it gets him to act this way.

“Mark, I…. I’ve been— s-since—”

“Not yet,” he whispers, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as if to bring you back to reality. You shudder at the pain, the pleasure that accompanies it, and when you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, you notice that a few tears escape your eyes. “Hold out for me a bit, okay? Please. It’s not enough. Not yet enough.”

You wonder if ‘enough’ is a concept the both of you even understand when it comes to wanting each other; already, you feel desire pooling in your stomach, threatening to spill from you, and clenching around him isn’t helping you stop it the way your body seems to think it’s supposed to. It also doesn’t help that Mark’s fingers are relentless, one still drawing tight, heavy circles around your clit, and the other creeping up under your shirt to tug down the cup of your bra, letting a breast spill into his warm palm. He kneads with an unusual — but not unpleasant — roughness, and you squeak out incoherently as he tweaks at the hardened bud of your nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hold on for me a little,” he continues murmuring, even after you shake your head and whisper ‘can’t’ to him over and over. “Do it for me. Tell Donghyuck — tell him how good it feels. How much you want to keep feeling me inside you.”

You don’t even know what to say; the pleasure that washes over you, the new kind of roughness that Mark exhibits has you drawing a blank, and you can only whine in a last attempt at protest, only for your tongue to start moving on autopilot, fueled by your want.

“It’s not enough,” you echo — and even if it feels like it is, even if it feels even more than you can possibly handle, something tells you that it’s true. “Not enough — need to feel you more, Mark. God, I want to feel you stretch me out, fuck my little hole into the shape of your cock— until no one else can fuck me but you—”

“What,” Donghyuck breathes out, his exhale coming across as static. “The fuck.”

You don’t have to explain; your babbling’s doing most of the work in that regard anyway, and you can tell by the wet, staccato noises on the other end that Donghyuck can easily piece together the scenario anyway. He’s jacking off to the both of you, something in your mind whispers, and the notion of that alone has you tightening around Mark’s cock. The change doesn’t go unnoticed, and his fingers sink deeper into your flesh; you cry out softly when you feel a jolt of pleasure as he gives your clit a sudden pinch.

“How much tighter can you get?” He sounds incredulous but also, interestingly, proud — there’s a smug tinge to his voice that arouses you even more. “Does it feel that good?”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe out, the syllables quivering in your throat. “So good I’m going to lose my mind. Let me — God, please, let me—”

“Not yet,” Mark mumbles, and you whimper as he slows and slips out of you, his hand gently rubbing your folds in what feels like comfort — a small apology for his overt enthusiasm that you don’t even really need. “Just a little more. I need to see it.”

“See what?” Donghyuck’s voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse and pretty much muffled by the sound of his hand pumping his own shaft. Your head’s light, so your body moves on its own when Mark inches away slightly, giving you room to turn yourself around and lay on your back. You’ve barely even settled when he lifts your hips, dragging you closer to him and easing your thighs apart to slot himself between your legs.

His cock weighs heavy, pressed up against your folds, and he pushes his hips in a superficial thrust to get them to spread. His eyes fall briefly on your swollen clit, the wetness that you left on his shaft, even more of it still leaking from your hole. When he looks back up at you, there’s something triumphant in his gaze.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he coos, so lovingly it’d be hard to imagine his cock still sliding against your folds if you couldn’t feel it yourself. “I’ll never get enough of your perfect pussy — so perfect that it was made to take me.”

“See what?” Donghyuck presses, an impatience now coloring his voice. Mark chuckles, nodding at you and mouthing silently. Tell him.

Your inhale’s shaky, quivering like the rest of your body, and you don’t ever break away from Mark’s gaze, even as you speak.

“His cock fucking me in my stomach.”

Donghyuck’s ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ is drowned out by your cry of need as Mark pushes back into you. There’s no lag time now, no wait for any kind of adjustment; he takes you in one motion, until you feel his hips hit the backs of your thighs again. Your walls flutter around him, unable to process his size fully, and all that comes out of you is a string of messy mewls that’s constantly interrupted by the wet sounds of his thrusts.

Your body feels almost weightless, the only thing you can understand being the feeling of his cock pumping into you, stretching you out further. You’re only able to shake yourself out of the reverie when you feel his hands push back against your thighs, folding you in half, before they crowd atop your stomach.

“God, I need to feel it,” he groans out, his palms skimming under your navel, searching. “Please — do it for me.”

Even with your brain muddled, you don’t even have to try to figure it out; you let him feel it every time he asks. You inhale, deep and slow, until your stomach sinks, and the walls of your stomach flatten against his cock, which pauses briefly in its movements as he revels in the newfound feeling.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, and you flush in pleasure, in satisfaction at his praise. “Love seeing my cock inside you.”

He adjusts himself before he starts pumping into you again, burying his shaft all the way to the hilt each time; each thrust is followed by a soft sob from you, and you reach out, planting your hands on top of his. You obviously can’t feel his cock under your palms, but you don’t have to anyway; the fit’s tight enough that it feels, ridiculously, like he’s fucking your whole body, like he’s pressing into the deepest part of your core. You just want him to feel it more — the movement of the bulge under his hands, the resistance it has to push through to get to your stomach.

“Love feeling me inside you,” he continues, and his breathing stutters then, signaling that he’s also barely hanging on. “Love seeing how pretty you look when I rearrange your insides.”

You mouth out a disbelieving ‘what the fuck’ that earns you a simple smile, but Mark’s unrelenting in his movements anyway, his palms completely covering your stomach.

“Dude, I wanna see it too,” Donghyuck reminds you both of his presence when his voice comes through the speaker. “Put her on video.”

“No way,” comes Mark’s swift, firm reply. Donghyuck makes a noise of protest. “This is just for me.”

“Selfish as hell, calling me without really sharing.”

“The point wasn’t really ever to share.”

Mark’s hands suddenly press down on your stomach, and you stifle a soft scream; the pressure increases tenfold, as does the tightness of the fit, his cock brushing against your walls in a way that makes you feel breathless — it makes you feel used. Your hands fly up, fingers locking behind his neck, and you squirm under him, knowing fully well that you can’t escape anyway — not that you really want to, anyway.

“Mark,” you warn him again, your voice thin and airy. “I can’t anymore — I really—”

“I got you,” he murmurs — something you’ve come to learn he always says, always wants to let you know. He’ll be here until you break, until you can’t take anymore. “One second, okay?”

“Bro, what? Are you serious—” Even Donghyuck sounds confused, although his voice is tight too; he must be close, your mind weakly registers, but it doesn’t matter. Mark, albeit reluctantly, slips one hand away from your stomach — for a good cause, he must think, and you learn what it is when he ends the call, effectively cutting off Donghyuck’s complaints. Your eyes widen in confusion, but all Mark’s gaze is to you is reassuring, gentle, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he answers your unspoken question.

“Can’t let him hear you cum,” he murmurs against your mouth. “That’s only for me, isn’t it?”

You nod, letting the movement of it brush your lips against his. “You’re the only one I’ll cum for — the only one that can make me.”

Above your head, his phone is trilling noisily; the vibrations course through your back, weak but persistent, and for some reason, it heightens your arousal all the more. Mark ignores it completely, single-mindedly focused on pistoning into you with the bulk of his strength. His hands push down just under your navel, increasing your awareness of the feeling of his cock, him fucking you, coaxing out your climax.

“Do it. Show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.”

You don’t think it’s possible for him to inject any more strength into his movements, but he proves you wrong time and time again; the wind’s knocked out of you as he braces himself and fucks you harder, sharper into the bed, and the only noises you can make are weak whimpers and choked sobs. Your mind’s so overrun with pleasure that your climax hits your body first before your mind fully parses it; your back arches again, and you mewl out something broken, something that sounds like his name as you come undone.

Mark still doesn’t relent, the tremble in your legs somehow only inspiring him to put more power in his thrusts. Even through the dazedness that comes with all the stimulation, you can see the fine details you’ve come to know so well — the tightness in his jaw, the growing flush across his collar, the quick heaving of his chest. He’s close too, so close he’s just holding himself back out of sheer force of will to make sure he can watch you come down from your climax completely. You don’t know why he has to, but you want to see him let go too, and you scramble for words, for more touch — pressing your thighs firm against his sides to keep him close, locked — just to get him there.

“Will you mark me up one last time?” You breathe out. He reacts almost instantaneously, moving to lean down and press his mouth against the still-untouched side of your neck, but your palm on his chest stops him from doing so. Surprise crosses his face, followed by slight confusion. You squeeze your thighs against him, trying to make your point, but even then, his brow furrows. “Mark me — inside.”

His eyes widen, and his hips stutter before they resume pace, his fingers digging into your stomach almost painfully as he tries to keep himself in control. “I— no, you know I can’t…”

“Do you want to?” You egg him on, your hand dropping from his chest to land on top of his again, adding to the pressure until you’re sure he can feel every small movement, every throb of his own cock inside you. “You can, you know — make me yours, from the inside out.”

“God — we can’t; you know we’d be in so much trouble.”

“But I’d let you anyway, if you wanted to. Do you ever think about it, Mark?” Your fingers toy with his, almost like you’re having a casual conversation instead of a situation in which he’s deep inside you, already aching for release. “Fucking your cum deep into me, letting it seep into my stomach — making sure no one else can fill me up?”

“Jesus,” he growls, and he reluctantly slips his hands out from under yours to grip your thighs. Realistically, he has enough strength to peel them away, have you release him, but his hold just tightens, not really making any motion to do so. You see the thought flash in his eyes, serious even just for a moment. He thinks about it all the time.

“Think about it,” you urge, your voice soft but close to a demand. “And every time you do, remember one day, you will — because you’re the only one that can.”

He tilts his head back, letting a growl rip from his throat, and he finally manages to push your thighs apart. You let him, let them fall apart so he can slip out of you. You watch him shift upwards, his knees on either side of your torso, and you’re met with the erotic sight of him fisting his cock in front of you, urging himself into completion. You do the only thing you can think of to help; you open your mouth wide, pushing your tongue out, silently asking for his load.

“Even when you do that, you’re fucking pretty,” he groans out, and his thumb presses his cock down, resting the underside flush against your tongue as he rocks his hips. “How much prettier are you going to look with my cum all over your face?”

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out, and you don’t have to respond; he gets the answer he wants with one last thrust against your tongue, and you close your eyes briefly, allowing yourself to drink in the taste, the smell of his cum as it streaks across your cheeks, all over your lips. You hear his release as it comes too — the soft rumble from his chest, the release of air that gently whistles through his teeth.

When you open your eyes again, Mark is looking down at you, a warm flush creeping up his cheeks and ears again; he’s breathless, panting as he comes down from his high. From the daze of his climax, a slightly sheepish look of apology crosses his face, and he reaches down, seemingly without any real plan, to clean you up, only to withdraw, slightly bemused, when you shake your head.

A laugh escapes him when you shimmy out from under him, straighten up, and extend your arms upward, puckering your lips in slight demand. You think he might reject you, but Mark doesn’t even hesitate longer than a second. He swoops down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, and your thighs press together tight as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue swiping away his cum from your bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, sucking softly as if to clean you completely.

When he pulls away, his head dips into your shoulder; again, his face turns to press against the mark he’d left, and his teeth nip at the soft bruise that’s already begun to blossom. Satisfied by the soft noise you make at the sensitivity you feel from the contact, he breathes out, long and steady, against your skin.

“Just… can’t get enough of you,” he finally exhales, pressing another kiss to your neck; it’s gentler, situated just under your jaw.

“You don’t ever have to think about having enough,” you whisper, leaving a light nuzzle against his shoulder. “Just always think about having more.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, but he nods, accepting your offer anyway. A moment of silence passes, where you’re wrapped up in each other, his weight against you in a blanket of heat, and it stretches to what almost feels like an eternity — if not for the phone suddenly ringing again, Donghyuck’s name coming up on the ID. You both start, and Mark reaches over, fumbling with the sides of his device before he finds and toggles the silent switch.

“Seriously,” he grumbles, watching the call drop just for it to start up again, the screen flashing.

“We kind of left him hanging, to be fair.”

“No fairness.” Mark tosses the phone to the foot of the bed, where it lies, facedown and buzzing. “He got more than he deserved today.”

You watch him as he slips off the bed, rearranging himself before clipping his jeans button back into place. He whispers a gentle ‘be right back’ and exits the room, leaving the door only slightly ajar. You hear the water run in the bathroom, and a few moments later, Mark returns to your side, holding a damp towel.

He leaves a kiss after each light swipe across your face, as if to apologize for the pain he thinks he might be causing; you laugh, partly because it’s ridiculous, but mostly because you like it. He cleans your mouth last, even though there’s already nothing left, just so he has an excuse to leave a long, lasting kiss there.

You think it’s the last you’ll get for now, but he surprises you by bending down even further, hiking your shirt up your torso again. His hand rests on your thigh, keeping himself balanced as he presses a flutter of kisses around your navel, lingering at the exact spot that sits above where he knows his cock hits every time he bottoms out in you.

“One day,” he whispers into your skin before he looks up at you, his eyes shining. “I’ll really make you all mine.”

“Dummy.” Your voice is just as low, and you pull his head up again, enjoying the brush of his hair against your hand, the swoop of his jaw under your palm. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Every single day, considering I’ll never get tired of it.”

You hum, not one to deny him of what he asks anyway; you push him back onto his calves, climbing back onto his lap; it’s your favorite way to be near him, you decide, with almost nothing between you, almost everything of yours touching everything of his — like you fit in him perfectly. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling their soft rise and fall as his breathing steadies, and you squirm a bit, if only to make sure his arms are locked securely around you — to make sure he won’t let go. Just like that, in his arms, you say it again — a truth, a fact, and a promise.

“I already am.”

[astonmartinii]

no more ace to play [mamma mia part two] | formula one social media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso and jenson button

the investigation was fruitful but now y/n has a handful of drivers and a bucket load of criticism

general note: i answered an ask about this but i thought i'd reiterate here, this is a no wives or kids au, so seb and jenson's wives and kids do not exist in this !! thank you so much for all the lovely feedback on the last part, hopefully i remembered to tag everyone who asked x

part one | masterlist | ko-fi

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and 1.405,605 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel, jensonbutton

yourusername: so i guess it's kinda real now and they're all lovely x

view all comments

user4: i know the bitter old people are going to find this now but i for one think it's fucking ICONIC

user5: the guys are way too chill for the situation

user6: they've not said anything, so how would you know?

user5: idk reeks of babytrapping

user7: be for real y/n doesn't need to baby trap anyone she has her own career?

yourbff: debrief needed STAT

yourusername: literally on my way to yours right now get the non-alcoholic wine READY

landonorris: do i like get a prize for my hand in this?

yourusername: here's a gold star ⭐️

landonorris: i was hoping for some monetary rewards

yourusername: ur literally a millionaire ?

landonorris: and?

user8: are any of them gonna like comment or?

user9: very odd considering they wouldn't shut THE FUCK UP on their own posts

user10: for real they were very proud of their 'accomplishments' but now it's the consequences of their actions and theyre silent ?

user11: have yall considered the fact that finding out you might be a dad is a bit of a shock, let them all process it?

jensonbutton

liked by lewishamilton, sebastianvettel and 302,889 others

jensonbutton: back to see the old rides

view all comments

user12: SPILL JENSON PLEASE

user13: so like what team is this kid going to support they've got so much to choose from?

user14: if they have any taste, ferrari 💅

user15: i mean their momma clearly has taste so ....

oscarpiastri: nice to meet you jenson!

jensonbutton: by how much mark talks about you i could've sworn i'd already met you

aussiegrit: bold of you to send shots my way considering your current predicament

user16: mark saying this like they aren't lucky to be with y/n ?

user17: bro we all saw that you met up with y/n and the baby daddy squad... wanna maybe share some thoughts?

user18: why would he want to publicise that he got with a slag?

user17: i know you're not calling y/n a slag when we're talking about f1 playboy JENSON BUTTON ?

user19: i have complete faith that this mamma mia summer WILL have a good ending but i NEED these men to maybe actually talk about it so people aren't just out here coming for y/n ?

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton and 1,209,677 others

yourusername: got myself a sweet treat and did some meditation (i.e. listening to asmr roleplay) because life is crazy and morning sickness is a bitch

view all comments

user24: not to be sappy but i am emotional watching y/n go through this, she's been on the internet for so long i feel like i've watched her grow up, idk anything about f1 but i hope they're good for her

yourbff: gosh who knew you getting pregnant would lead to us having to go to the bakery every single morning

yourusername: but but but they have such good croissants and SHUSH I BUY YOU YOURS EVERYDAY

yourbff: i know you're like my sugar mama, please still buy me pastries when you have your actual child

user25: i think we're all being a wee bit dramatic about the whole "they haven't said anything" business. yes, they probably should say they're fine with it so people stop accusing y/n of baby trapping them but ALSO we don't know what they do everyday, maybe we should just let the adults go about their business

charles_leclerc: i am basically seb's kid so i shall be a character witness: that man is an ANGEL and believe me that took a lot for me to say in public lol

yourusername: why thank you charles, i have heard a lot about you. in fact on his "provisional dad cv", sebastian directly named you, some guys called max verstappen, mick schumacher and lance stroll as fatherly experience

maxverstappen1: LOL I KNEW SEB LOVED ME BUT WTF IS A DAD CV

sebastianvettel: this is a serious matter and i wanted to show that i'm serious about fatherhood

mickschumacher: soz max, charles and lance i think WE all know who his favourite is

lancestroll: i'm just happy to be recognised tbf

yourusername: well i kinda hope this real child will be his favourite...

charles_leclerc: boring 🥱

alexalbon: well i'm gonna nominate myself as jenson's grid kid and woah that guy is great 👍

jensonbutton: sounds kinda sarcastic but thanks for the effort alex

carlossainz55: seeing as we're all here i'll say that nando is the best grid dad sorry not sorry

yourusername: you're all here but idk who you people are ?

fernandoalo_oficial: chilli have i ever told you how proud i am of you?

stoffelvandoorne: do i mean nothing to you old man

user26: wtf is going on here

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel and 1,403,677 others

fernandoalo_oficial: what a race! thankful to finally be back on the podium this weekend and i'd like to dedicate this race to the soon-to-be new addition and my new family, here's to our future ❤️

view all comments

user27: HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO CUTE

user28: i'm sorry the THUMB IN THE MOUTH CELEBRATION ARE YOU KIDDING?

jensonbutton: proud of you, come home quick x

user29: i'm sooooo chill about this

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll make sure to tell the team that THE jenson button wants the meeting to go faster

sebastianvettel: do i mean nothing? that's literally my old team name drop ME

yourusername: just tell them i've gone into labour

fernandoalo_oficial: you've not even been pregnant two months yet...

yourusername: they don't know that

astonmartinf1: this is a public instagram comment section...

maxverstappen1: maybe when the little one is actually here i'll let you win for once

fernandoalo_oficial: how kind of you?

maxverstappen1: i need the little one to know that at least one of you is cool and that i should be their favourite god father

lewishamilton: now that is a bold assumption

danielricciardo: i have been quiet on this topic but if anyone is prime god father material YOU'RE LOOKING AT HIM

yourusername: you'll all receive an email and a god father application in the coming weeks

charles_leclerc: is this another seb idea?

yourusername: maybe... but idk yall so i think it's a good idea

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, mickschumacher and 1,509,874 others

tagged: jensonbutton, fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel

yourusername: welcome to the crazy house

view all comments

user33: so we've confirmed the poly? yes or no?

user34: i'm gonna say yes but with them you literally never know

georgerussell63: so we all sent them a jellycat?

alexalbon: speak for yourself george that sick ass rocking bunny is all albon

user35: not to be weird but this kids is literally going to have the hottest parents of all time

user36: no cause if i'm a teacher and all of them walk in for parent's evening i'm passing out

jensonbutton: oh wow what a lovely crib i wonder who put that together

fernandoalo_oficial: don't you dare take all the credit

sebastianvettel: as if anyone other than the WOOD WORK KING put that together

yourusername: guys they are lying the delivery guy put it together and they all stood around watching like dads at the airport

jensonbutton: "like dads" so still getting the experience in

danielricciardo: so who is responsible for this grandpa ass nursery aesthetic?

yourusername: well this is awkward i thought it was cute

fernandoalo_oficial: it is don't worry honey, it matches seb's overall grandpa aesthetic

sebastianvettel: you guys agreed to move to mine don't switch up on my aesthetic now

jensonbutton: oh seb we all love your certain affinity for tartan and plaid

sebastianvettel: i'm not feeling this love right now :(

yourusername: cuddle pile incoming

note: ahhh okay this was very highly requested so i hope it met expectations. i'm thinking this could defo be a longer series (i am also working on into the arms of another dw) following the whole family if yall would like that? i'm gonna try and tag everyone who requested that, i am sorry if i missed anyone x

taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @minkyungseokie @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa

[atebyflowers]

— ellie x readers first time . .

first post in literally a month?? i'm so sorry omg this is unedited but oh wells... cw: fingering & head(r!recieving), short after care

thinking about how gentle and sweet she'd be towards your worries, how careful she would be with your body as if you could shatter under her any moment.

"tell me to stop if you're uncomfortable" she'd whisper against your skin, placing soft kisses along your neck before pulling back — softly rubbing her fingers up and down your soaked slit. "els.. whatre you doing" you questioned, whincing at the slow friction. "just getting you ready baby, don't wanna move to fast... you're so f'me already..." she replies, continuing her motion for a moment before it's halted by your hand on her arm — catching her off gaurd.

"what's wrong?" she questioned as you bit down on your lip, hesitant to respond — afraid of saying something that'll ruin the moment. "tell me sweetheart it's okay" ellie adds, caressing your cheek. "m'just nervous" you admit through embarrassment. ellie, replacing the hand on your cheek with her lips — using the other to interlock your fingers with hers. "we can stop at anytime" she re informs with a warm tone, "just say the word and we don't have to continue".

she lifts herself off of you just enough to lock eyes, nodding at her words — you give her the signal to continue as she lifts your interlocked hand, placing another gentle kiss onto yours before re adjusting herself.

You shut your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to relax as she inserted a finger into you — your body taking in a deep breath as the unfamiliar sensation overwhelmed, ellie, slowing pumping in and out as your warm slick coated her finger. her eyes watching your every movement, "it'll feel more comfortable soon i promise angel.. just focus on me" she instructs.. and you do just that — opening your eyes to meet hers, ellie now lowering herself — slightly hovering over your cunt.

with one of your hands digging into the bed sheet, and the other still interlocked with her free hand — she began picking up her pace alongside inserting another finger. though without warning, she's slow, cautious not to hurt you. as her tongue latches onto your body, she brings placing cat links alongside her fingers still pushing into you — her mouth releasing occasionally to mutter praises. "doing so good for me pretty.. swallowing me whole.. god you're so fucking perfect" "wanted to taste this pussy for so long" she manages to speak through moans of her own, getting off to the taste of you.

"ellie .... need more" was all you managed to get out, your body desperate to increase the feeling, something you've never had before but craved in the moment. those words, causing her to look for any signs of hesitation — you, quickly to dismiss it. the words "please els... i want more" coming out of you through a almost pathetic cry, enough to make her thrust her fingers in and out of you — her mouth now sucking down on your clit throughout the process.

you let out sounds you had no idea your body could make, a feeling that was indescribable being pushed throughout your veins. your fingers, practically digging into her hand as your fingers remained intwined, her free hand now holding down your thigh — assuring you don't squirm away.

"fuck!" you cried as you felt a release approaching, "ellie i think-" your words were cut off with her mouths sudden removal from your cunt, though her fingers remaind at the same steady pace. she lifted her body onto yours, her mouth barely an inch away from your ear as she spoke. "you're close yeah..? c'mon baby... cum on my fingers.. taking them so well...". those words from her sending waves through your body as you released onto her fingers below — a mix of cum and liquid marking the bed sheet below. ellie lifted her head down once more, using her tongue to lick your messy and sensitive cunt one last time before slowly removing her fingers — savouring every last bit that coated them.

your body fell limp as you attempted to catch your breath, sensitivity flourished over you as she began to clean your body — your mind to fuzzy to notice her ever getting up. once finsihed, she regains her gentle demeanour — clothing you, and cradling you in her arms as if you were the most fragile being in her presence. "you did so well for me princess... thank you for trusting me..." she whispered once more, caressing your head as she allowed your tired body to doze off.

[rosenclaws]

logan helps you study <3

a/n: full disclosure I'm ovulating and I legitimately can't focus on anything because I keep thinking of Logan and I have a midterm tmr so this is born so I can finally fucking focus. I can't stop looking at pictures of Hugh it is actually driving me insane

wc: 646

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, cockwarming, bent over a table, teasing logan, breast groping/nipple play, reader wears a skirt.

"Lo..." You shift uncomfortably on his lap.

Sweat forming on your brow as your hand shakes. You regret ever asking him for help studying. Though now that you think of it, you never asked for his help.

Logan found you at the dining room table. Eyes straining from looking at your laptop for the last 4 hours of your life. Books open, post its everywhere. You were ready to pull your fucking hair out. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he doesn't try and help his smart girl.

His idea of helping?

Having you sit on his fat cock while you study. Promising you the ride of your life when you're done going through the study guide. He got you to stand up, smacking your ass as you did and sat in your chair.

Unbuckling his jeans with a loud clank and pulled down his pants and boxers in one go. He spread his legs and pat his lap, winking as he stroked his cock. He leaned forward and stuffed his face in your cunt making you gasp.

Your hands gripped the table tightly as pulled your underwear harshly. Watching as your ass shook right in his face. The fabric of your panties rubbing against your clit roughly as he pulled and pulled until it snapped. You mark that as another pair of underwear Logan has ruined. He tosses the scraps somewhere in the room and grabs your hips to place you on his lap.

He smacked your thighs and smiled as he told you to open up. Notching his cock at your pussy and helping you take all of him until he's all the way inside.

This was so not fair.

"Yeah pretty girl?" Logan plays with the hem of your skirt, a smirk on his face as he feels you move on his lap.

"Don't know how much this is helping..." You mumble. He moves his hips and you bite your lip to suppress a moan.

"I don't know, seems to be working from here." He grins as he thrusts his hips upwards.

The tip of his cock burying itself deep inside of you. You let out a squeak as his hairy thighs rub against your ass. The grip on your pen gets tighter as you resist the urge to throw your books off the table and beg Logan to fuck you right here.

"Just a few more questions right?" He slips his hands under your shirt. Fingers trailing up and up until he's cupping your bra. Slowly pulling it down until your boobs pop out.

"Finish them and I'll give you everything you want baby." He purrs as his thumbs flick over your nipples.

It's the most tortuous 10 minutes of your life. Writing answers to questions you can't remember. Logan's cock is pulsing inside of you. His hands are meticulously tugging and playing with your nipples. Squeezing your tits in his rough, calloused hands. He's whispering dirty thoughts in your ear, no longer attempting to help you study. Instead growing impatient as you clench around his cock.

Finally you finish the last sentence. Slamming your computer closed and shoving all your books off the table. Logan stands up, shoving you until you're bending over the table. Cock still deep inside of you as he leans over and pins your body to the table with his super human strength.

Logan growls as he sets a harsh but slow pace. Dragging his cock along your tight walls, groaning when they don't seem to want him to leave.

"Pussy wants to keep me deep inside huh?" He chuckles darkly as he slams his hips into you.

"Hope you studied good baby," He buries his face in your neck. Inhaling your scent as he rubs his nose along your neck.

"Because tonight the only thing you're gonna remember is how to scream my name."

[loganhowlettshousewife]

Okay relating to a recent post, cleaning up Logan after a fight/mission? Maybe you have a kit ready to go when you hear him return, put his favorite pjs on a fluff cycle so they're nice and warm for him. You clean off any blood (maybe a few remaining wounds if it was BAD bad), and wipe down his claws. Maybe shower together, letting you run your fingers through his shampooed hair before getting cozy for the night

I just wanna take care of him

you! you get it!!

comfort

summary: you take care of logan after he comes home from a mission.

cw (treating this like ao3 tags): blood, wound tending, non-sexual intimacy, nudity, not proofread at all, english isn't my first language so beware, reader has hair, i'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but i'm a girl so i may have accidentally added something gendered without realising idk. this is very soft! you can say this is out of character for logan but i believe he's actually a big softie and just wants love!

word count: 1619

logan comes home to you sitting on the couch reading a book. or, well, you’re trying to read, but it’s hard to focus on anything when logan’s out on a mission. you know he can’t die, his regenerative healing factor pretty much guarantees that, and yet there’s still an irrational spark of fear that lives in you, lighting a fire in your heart every time he gets called away by the x-men.

every minute that passes is a dagger, every new star that appears in the sky a reminder of how long he’s been gone. missions for the x-men can be mere hours or last for days, you remind yourself, and time has nothing to do with how dangerous it is.

though logan typically only gets chosen to go on the dangerous missions. he’s not the one they ask to convince new, young mutants to go to the school. he’s too harsh, too jaded.

you immediately drop the book when you hear the sound of the door lightly creaking open. you’re on your feet in an instant, there to catch logan when he falls into your arms, sweaty and bloody and tired - not as much physically, he has insane stamina, but mentally.

“missed you,” he mumbles into your hair, tucking your head under his chin.

“missed you more,” you reply.

you stay like that for a few minutes. you both need the comfort. early on in your relationship, logan would refuse this type of comfort after a mission, claimed he didn’t need it, he’s fought and killed his entire life and never had a sweet thing like you to take care of him when he got back. but you did, you needed to know he was there, with you, a physical presence, proof that nothing terrible had happened to him.

secretly, he revelled in those moments. now, he trusts you enough for those feelings to be spoken out loud, whispered reverently between “i love you”s, declarations of affection and faith. you’re the only one who’s ever been able to get him to open up this way, to verbalise his feelings instead of swallowing them down.

“you’re covered in blood,” you comment, running a hand down his chest.

he shivers, “most of it’s not mine. but they got a few shots in.”

you hum, pulling back to take a better look at him. his shirt is torn in a few places, and in the middle of his chest are multiple neat, round holes in the fabric, small marks showing where bullets pierced his skin. the wound itself has healed, but the blood remains, a visual reminder of the pain your boyfriend was feeling not so long ago.

he may heal quickly, but he still feels pain, feels agony, and your heart shatters at the way others seem to forget that, so quick to put him in the line of fire. he’ll be fine, they say, and while that may be true physically, there’s only so many times a man can play human shield before he breaks.

“let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, the next part of your routine for when he returns from missions. 

it’s a dance you’ve almost perfected, the way he wraps his arms around your waist and you have to walk to the bathroom with him clinging to you. 

he sits down on the closed toilet seat, closing his eyes and letting you do all the work. his claws come out next, stained with the blood of those he harmed and killed, yet you trace them softly all the same. they protect you - he protects you, really, and so you’ll always be grateful for them, even when logan considers them a curse, a stain upon his existence, turning a man into a monster.

you grab a washcloth and dampen it, wiping meticulously at each sharp blade, from his knuckle to the pointed tip of the adamantium. soon, the washcloth is stained a dirty red, almost brown in its appearance, and the metal gleams brightly under the bathroom lights.

there’s an ease to his posture when he retracts his claws, so slight a difference that no one else would have noticed. he told you once that he can feel the blood remaining on his claws when they pull back into his skin, that it’s an uncomfortable reminder that he’s hurt people, that he’s a killer.

he doesn’t clean them himself, says the reminder is necessary. you disagree, and so you took to wiping them down yourself every time he came home after any sort of fight.  

there’s a small spot of blood between each of his knuckles where the claws pierce his skin, the tiniest bit of red that welled up before the cuts could heal themselves and you wipe that away too. then you lean down to press soft kisses to his hands, the part of himself that logan hates most.

he sighs, a shaky exhale leaving him at the sight of you lowering onto your knees to worship him, to prove your adoration.

any other time that would be enough to turn the mood of the evening into something much different, but he isn’t willing to give this up quite yet, this soft intimacy that’s always felt so foreign to him, a type of love he’d convinced himself he would never get to experience.

“i’m gonna go throw our pajamas and a few blankets into the dryer. you can get the shower going in the meantime, ‘kay?” he agrees easily, of course, and you lean up to kiss him, slow and soft.

pulling away is almost physically painful but you manage. you find the fluffy hello kitty pajama pants you originally bought for logan as a joke as well as the matching set you bought yourself and grab the blanket that sits at the foot of your bed, throwing them into the dryer to warm them up.

he sleeps naked most days, a blessing for you, but on his more difficult days he likes to cuddle up to soft, plush fabrics. besides, you like to think that the silly pajama pants bring him comfort, a reminder of your love for him, that you’re thinking about him even at the most inopportune of times.

he’s in the shower when he returns, the water tinged pink as it slides down the hard, muscled planes of his body. you’re quick to undress and join him, stepping under the hot water, feeling it soak into your hair and skin.

“you’re gorgeous,” logan says, grabbing onto your waist with his large hands to pull you to his chest. he brushes your wet hair out of your face. “can’t believe how lucky i am to have you. what did i ever do to deserve you, sweetheart?”

“you don’t have to do anything to deserve me, logan,” you say, “just being you is enough. and really, you do so much for me. every day.”

“loving you is the best thing i ever did,” he admits, “i’m gonna continue to do whatever i need to keep you. wanna be with you until i die.”

you’ve had conversations like these before, usually always in moments of vulnerability, often coming after devastation and horror. he doesn’t say these types of things in the light of day, but he doesn’t take them back later either. they just stay, floating in the air between you.

one day, you think, you’ll be able to have a real conversation about the future with him. it’s a goal to look towards, but he’s not quite there yet, and you’re okay with that. you’re content with what he does tell you, praise that he marks into every inch of your body.

you use your body wash to clean him, knowing he’ll smell faintly of you afterwards, and the possessive part of you is pleased. your hands tangle in his hair, scrubbing the shampoo into his scalp. his head is tilted down so you can have better access. 

it gets harder to finish cleaning him as his body leans into yours, two magnets always seeking each other. 

you exit the shower before him, allowing him a few more seconds under the water pressure to pull the last remnants of tension from his form. you pat yourself dry and then hurriedly grab the garments you’ve thrown into the dryer, stepping back into the humid bathroom as logan turns off the water.

the adrenaline has made way for bone-deep exhaustion, and so you help logan dry off.

it’s peaceful, quiet, as the two of you finish your nighttime routines. he brushes his teeth and watches you do your skincare routine, unwilling to go into your bedroom if you’re not by his side.

he falls asleep before you, for once. typically, he struggles to fall asleep, worried about the nightmares that plague his slumber and the possibility of harming you while unconscious. it’s nice to see him sleeping peacefully, the stern lines of his face flattening into a soft tranquillity that only you get to see.

you can feel your eyelids growing heavy but you need to watch him just a little longer. so you fight the darkness that wants to pull you under, focusing on the hand you have placed on logan’s chest, the way you can feel the steady rising and falling of his breathing, the way his warm skin feels against the palm of your hand. 

“i’ll always come back to you,” he’d told you once when you had expressed the worry that seizes hold of you whenever he’s away for long.

you’re smiling when you fall asleep, those words replaying in your mind. he’s home, with you, and as long as he comes home to you everything will be okay.

[starkwlkr]

cherry flavoured | sebastian vettel

sebastian vettel x reporter!reader

based on the video of iker casillas and his gf during the 2010 world cup

she’s a long one <3 this was finished at 2:30 AM so I’m sorry if there’s any mistakes (please do not request for part 2)

Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2010

It was the last race of the season and you were nervous, especially for Sebastian. It was down to Fernando, Mark, Sebastian and Lewis, one of them was going to be them champion. It was your job to cover the race and conduct interviews before and after so this gave you a chance to speak with Sebastian and wish him luck. The media didn’t know about your relationship that had just become official a month ago.

Sebastian had asked you out before the Japanese Grand Prix. That day, you decided to make a deal with him. If he won, you would go to dinner with him. After 53 laps, Sebastian secured a win and a date with you.

While you finished up your interview with Lewis, Sebastian stood patiently to the side. He kept his eye on you, staring at how you talked with such confidence and passion. He loved how expressive you were, sometimes talking with your hands. After letting Lewis go so he could prepare for the race, it was Sebastian’s turn. He happily joined you.

“Hello Sebastian, how are you?” You asked, knowing already how he felt, but you had to do your job. The night before, you stayed in Sebastian’s room, that’s when he told you how nervous he was feeling.

“Good, excited, happy.” He replied, smiling at you.

“Well I won’t keep you here for very long—”

“Why not? I enjoy talking to you.” Sebastian interrupted. His smirk was making you weak and all you wanted was to drag him into a room and let him have his way with you, but you couldn’t at least not now.

Several questions later, Sebastian was still giving you that look making it hard for you to concentrate. It was the same look he gave you the night before when you and him were in his hotel room ripping each other’s clothes off.

“Alright, good luck Seb . . astian, sebastian sorry.” You apologized.

All Sebastian did was laugh at your mistake. Since nobody apart from Mark knew about your relationship, you couldn’t call him Seb. He nodded then mumbled an ‘I love you’ and left. You really hoped nobody could read his lips since you were still live.

You understood that Sebastian needed to concentrate before the race so you didn’t bother him. Soon, the race had started, almost instantly on lap 1, a crash happened. After the race restarted, you watched Sebastian keep his p1 position. When it came to the final lap, everyone was silent in the Red Bull garage where you were watching the race from. Sebastian crossed the finish line, but you still had to wait for the other four cars.

Lewis came in second then came Jenson. After confirming, it was clear that Sebastian had become world champion.

You and the team members of Red Bull made it to the podium ceremony. The German nation anthem played as Sebastian soaked in the moment. He had made history by becoming the youngest world champion. After the national anthem finished, he tried to look for you in the crowd. When he finally did, he winked at you. Again, he was making you feel all sorts of emotions.

After the podium celebrations and posing for photos, the three drivers had to do threat post race interviews. You were in charge of being the first to interview the new world champion.

In the media pen, Sebastian spotted you getting ready for your interview. When you were done, he walked up to you with the biggest smile on his face.

“Congratulations Sebastian. How was it up there on the podium?” You asked.

“It was a dream, but now it’s reality.” Sebastian replied. “I just wanna thank all the people that supported me and you of course, you’ve been there for me.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Was Sebastian about to reveal your relationship?

“Well congratulations again, go celebrate this historic win—” Before you could finish your sentence, Sebastian placed both of his hands on your cheeks and brought you closer to him, placing a kiss on your lips. You could taste the champagne that had been poured of him by Jenson and Lewis. From the distance, Jenson cheered, making everyone turn their attention towards you and Sebastian.

Sebastian didn’t care that you were still live. All he wanted was to celebrate with his girlfriend. “I love you.” He mumbled against your lips. When he finally pulled away, he licked his lips. “Cherry, my favorite.” He smirked.

“You’re the worst.” You laughed. “I love you too, champ. Go, I’ll see you soon.” You practically had to push him away from you so you could continue with more interviews.

“I’ll wait for you!” He yelled as he walked away.

Then Jenson made his way to you since you were going to interview him next. “Do I get one as well?” He teased.

Of course you and Sebastian celebrated, how could you not? He had made history. After the famous kiss, you were sure that you were going to get fired, but nothing ever happened. You did get a warning to not do it again, which Sebastian reminded the FIA that it was his idea not yours resulting in him getting a warning too.

Over the years, you were there when Sebastian won, when he lost, when he moved to Ferrari. You comforted him when he realized he would never win a championship with Ferrari.

During the summer break of the 2019 season, you and Sebastian decided to get married. It was an intimate wedding with only close friends and family attending. The night of your wedding, Sebastian promised you that he would take you anywhere for a while so you could spend your honeymoon. Of course being an F1 driver and a reporter, it didn’t go as planned as a global pandemic hit. You assured Sebastian that you weren’t mad, you had traveled almost everywhere with him anyway.

After the 2020 season ended, Sebastian was now with Aston Martin. He had only secured one podium finish with the team, but you were still more than happy for him.

One day after media day had finished for the 2021 French Grand Prix, you and Sebastian were in the Aston Martin motorhome having lunch. You were talking about a new piece of furniture you wanted when your phone vibrated. You checked it and saw a picture of your friend’s baby that she had sent you.

“Look, remember my friend Jane? That’s her baby girl, aw she’s so adorable.” You showed Sebastian a picture of the baby. “I need to tell her to stop sending pictures or I might get baby fever.”

“It wouldn’t be such a bad thing, right?” Sebastian asked. “We’ve been together for eleven years, married for two.“

“I did always dream of being a mother. It would be fun to play dress up with our daughter or play with you cars with our son. Can you imagine that? They would call me mom . . holy shit.”

Sebastian thought about it. He was in his mid thirties, he already won four titles, that was enough for him.

“I guess this plays into what I’m about to talk to you next. . . I didn’t renew a contract for 2023 with sky sports.” You said.

“Are you going somewhere else?” He questioned.

“No, I didn’t sign anything with anyone. I just thought that it’s time for me to step back. Give someone younger their moment.” You replied. You made the decision a while ago even before the 2021 season started.

“But you love your job.”

“I can’t stay here forever, Seb.”

All day Sebastian had thought about your words. He couldn’t stay in formula 1 forever either. The younger generation had to have a go too.

At the end of the 2021 season, Sebastian had told you the news that he would be retiring at the end of the next season like you. You were sure him retiring was the result of your conversation, but he assured you that even before that he had considered retirement.

“So when are you going to announce it?” You asked.

“Soon. I want to enjoy winter break with you first.”

You and Sebastian spent the holidays in your home in Switzerland surrounded by family and friends. You weren’t even sure how it happened since you and Sebastian spent most of your time at home, but both of you ended up testing positive for covid. You assumed you contracted the virus when you went out for groceries.

The 2022 season had started and you and your husband were stuck at home quarantining. It wasn’t bad, it was just a normal day except you had medicine and empty tissue boxes scattered around the floor.

“Do you need another blanket, liebe?” Sebastian asked you. He touched your forehead feeling it not as hot as before.

You two were in your bedroom watching the Bahrain Grand Prix. You didn’t expect this to be the start of your last season, but at least you were with Sebastian.

“I’m okay, I’m thirsty though.” You sat up as Sebastian walked to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. Once he returned, he saw how sad you looked as you watch the race.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to miss it, but I’m happy that I get to be home with you.” You smiled weakly at him.

“We can visit whenever we want, liebe, and then one day we can visit with the kids.” Sebastian replied. “Here, drink.” He handed you the glass of water.

Soon enough, you and Sebastian were good to return back to the paddock. You felt refreshed and ready to officially start the season. You did your interviews, greeted your colleagues and then made your way to the Aston Martin garage where you were going to watch the race.

By lap 24, Sebastian was out. It broke your heart to see it, it was his first race back and he didn’t get a chance to finish it. He arrived back to the garage in a Marshall’s scooter making it a funny moment despite his dnf. He looked for you first.

“Are you okay?” You asked, running your hand through his messy hair.

“Good.” Was all that he said.

After doing some post race interviews, Sebastian waited for you in the Aston Martin motorhome. When you arrived, you noticed a plate of fruit and berries on the table. “I figured you didn’t get a break all day so eat. I made sure to get plenty of pineapple and strawberries.” He moved the plate closer to you.

“Thanks, it wasn’t that stressful today. Hopefully the next race is better for us.” You said once you sat down and started to eat the fruit. “No cherries today?”

“You and your cherries. Not today, liebe.” Sebastian grabbed a strawberry from the plate.

Eventually it was time to announce to the world of motorsports and media that Sebastian and you were retiring. You announced it first with a lengthy post on instagram with pictures of when you first started to now, you even posted the famous kiss that Sebastian gave you in 2010.

You received lots of comments and messages from family, friends and colleagues. It was nice to feel loved by them. The next day, it was Sebastian’s turn to announce his retirement. It started with him making an Instagram account then posting a video.

“I hereby announce my retirement from formula one by the end of the 2022 season.”

Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2022

You felt a giant wave of deja vu. Here you were back in Abu Dhabi only this time it would be the official last Grand Prix for you and Sebastian. You would still visit like Sebastian mentioned, but it wouldn’t feel the same.

You walked into the paddock with Sebastian holding your hand. You were greeted by photographers, fans that wanted to get pictures with Sebastian and several members of other teams that wanted to congratulate you and your husband on retirement.

First you went to the Aston Martin motorhome again since you were a bit tired. You sat at a table in the corner. For a couple of weeks now, you were keeping a secret from Sebastian. Your friend, Jane, was the only one who knew since she had gone through a similar experience.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sebastian asked as he noticed the tired look on you. “Want something to eat?”

“No I’m okay, I promise. It’s still too early for me to function I guess.” You dismissed it. “I’ll catch up with you later, I’m sure you have lots of people waiting for you.”

“They can wait. If you need me here then I’m staying, end of discussion.” He was about to sit down next to you, but you stopped him.

“Seb, no. I mean it, I am fine. Go.” You demanded.

Before he left, Sebastian placed a kiss on your lips. When he pulled away, he frowned. “Is that coconut? I thought you were going to wear the cherry one.”

“Change of plans.” You smiled. “Go, the team needs you.”

“Be careful, I’ll see you later.” He placed one more kiss on your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You reply as you watch Sebastian walk out. “I can just imagine how protective he’s going to be about you, baby.” You spoke to yourself as you looked down to your stomach.

You found out you were pregnant when Jane was visiting you in Switzerland. You had gone out to eat for brunch at a nice little restaurant. Immediately after arriving, the smell of eggs made you run to the nearest bathroom and vomit in the toilet. Jane had ran after you making sure you were okay.

“Fuck . . It’s the smell.” You confirmed.

“Babe, when was the last time you had your period?”

Jane’s question made you think back to your vacation with Sebastian a couple months ago. You and Sebastian couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

After taking a pregnancy test, it was confirmed that you were pregnant. You called your doctor to schedule an appointment. Sebastian wasn’t home so you didn’t have to worry about him walking in on you holding a pregnancy test. You weren’t sure how you were going to tell him, but you knew that he would be the happiest man on earth.

You were assigned to interview Sebastian immediately after the race while on the track. You were told that it would be a special moment for you two seeing as you were both leaving. Apparently Sebastian didn’t know this so that was another secret kept from him.

Sebastian stood beside you as he got ready. You held his helmet, your name printed on the side in a small font. “Remember when I won back in 2010?”

“No, remind me again?” You joked. “Of course I do. It was the night you kissed me in front of thousands of people on live tv.”

“It would be a shame if we didn’t recreate that.” He teased. “You know . . . for historical reasons.”

“I don’t want to get in trouble on my last day.”

“You’re no fun.” Seb rolled his eyes playfully. “Kiss for good luck?”

You then kissed the top of his helmet and shoved it in his hands. “Good luck.” You were about to leave, but Sebastian grabbed your hand and brought you back to him. “Fine.” You kissed him as if your life depended on it.

“I was hoping you changed your lipgloss to cherry.” Mumbled Sebastian after pulling away from you.

“You’ll live.” You gave him a chaste kiss then waited for him to put his balaclava. “I love you and I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Soon, the race was starting. Sebastian had started from P9. It was an exciting and emotional race for you and Sebastian. You didn’t want it to end, but you knew that Sebastian’s time in f1 was over.

By the end of the 58 laps, Sebastian had scored his last point in formula 1. You were content with the result even if he only scored one point. You were then directed to the track with a camera man and microphone in hand. As Sebastian did donuts on the track, you took your phone out to record his last moments. When he finished, you put away your phone. You didn’t even notice you were crying until a marshal gave you a tissue.

You thanked him and cleaned up as Sebastian made his way out the car to wave at the fans. Eventually Sebastian made his way towards you without his helmet and his racing suit hanging from his waist. You couldn’t start the interview without hugging him first so that’s what you did. Like in 2010, the camera filmed you and Sebastian as you embraced. You could hear the crowd cheering.

“You did so well. You made me cry.” You mumbled as Sebastian kissed your temple.

“You look pretty when you cry.” He let go of you since you needed to start the interview. He fixed your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear.

“Sebastian, wow, first off congratulations on your incredible career.” You began.

“I don’t know what to say. I feel a bit empty to be honest, it’s been a big weekend.” He looked at the crowd who were sad to see him go. He gave a speech that made you cry even more, which you blamed on the hormones. “I can say that you were always with me in the bad times and good times. Thank you for sticking with me.”

“Always.” You said, completely forgetting you were holding the microphone so the whole audience heard you.

Sebastian then thanked the fans for the messages and support he’s been receiving. It only made you want to cry even more so thankfully your interview was coming to an end.

“Congratulations, Seb. You deserve it.” You said and with that you and your husband hugged once more. “You’re coming home.” You sighed.

“You don’t sound too happy.” He teased.

“I am, trust me. That means you can help move some stuff around and redecorate the guest room.” You let go of Sebastian, but you still held his hand.

“Why would we need to redecorate the guest room?” He questioned.

“Because that’s our baby’s room.”

“Our baby? Really? You mean it?” His lips turned into a smile that he couldn’t wipe off. “When did you find out?”

“Weeks ago. I’m letting you know right now that if you ever make eggs around me, I will vomit so let’s not do that.” You laughed as Seb brought you in for a kiss.

Again, Jenson was cheering in the background like he did in 2010.

When Sebastian pulled away, he smirked. You had changed your lipgloss after all. “Cherry, my favorite.”